Walker’s voice breaks through my thoughts, and I lift my eyes to meet him.
“I won’t apologize for helping your parents. I never regretted it for a second. However, I am sorry for keeping things from you.” He cradles my face between his hands. “I should have been honest about my feelings—and about knowing the truth. What I’m most sorry for is that you had to go through so much on your own, but I promise you’ll never have to carry that kind of burden alone again.”
“There’s nothing to be sorry for, Walker,” I murmur, leaning in to brush my lips against his. “You were there for my family when it wasn’t your responsibility, and I’ll never forget it.”
He never should’ve been responsible for my parents’ yard—or any other maintenance on their house, for that matter. Still, I’m endlessly grateful that he stepped up—not for recognition, but because he saw a need and quietly made life easier for us. My dad was wrong to ask him to keep it from me, though I understand why Walker respected his wishes. And knowing that Walker has been keeping Mama company on nights I couldn’t erases any lingering frustration over the secrecy.
“Everything I’ve done was because I wanted to, and I’ll continue to be here for whatever you and your mom need.” Walker tucks a piece of stray hair behind my ear, his lips curving into a grin.
“You’re my endgame, Birdie Mae Matterson. Like I said at the lake I’m in this for the long haul. I’ll wait as long as it takes for you to see that I’m all in—today, tomorrow, and always.”
The future, once hazy and uncertain, sharpens into focus—one shared with someone generous, kindhearted, and who makes me laugh.
My eyes sting with tears. “I’m speechless… but in the best way possible.”
“That’s all right, sweetheart. There’s no need to rush any decisions. Right now, your focus should be on spending time with your mom and helping her heal,” he says, gently wiping a stray tear from my cheek.
I swallow hard, my voice barely audible. “She’s never going to get better…”
Yes, the doctors have said the pneumonia should clear up, but the prognosis is inevitable and will continue to take its toll until her body can’t fight it anymore.
Walker draws me into his lap and wraps his arms around me. “That doesn’t mean there isn’t time to make plenty of new memories you can cherish forever.” He leans back just enough to meet my gaze.
My lips curve into a faint smile. “You’re right about that.”
I’ve been so caught up in the thought of losing Mama someday that I forgot to appreciate the time we still have together. I’m more than ready to be her daughter again rather than her primary caregiver. And I realize now that making that possible means change is long overdue, and it has to start with my dad. While I channeled my grief into tending to Mama, he coped by avoiding the situation. But we’ve reached a point when pretending that’s a solution doesn’t benefit anyone.
If I want a chance at true happiness—making my sanctuary official one day and building a future with Walker—I have to take matters into my own hands. That means having the conversation with him that I’ve avoided since Mama’s diagnosis.
I glance at Walker, who’s watching me with calm reassurance.
“I’ve been thinking… once Mama’s back home, my dad and I should talk. There’s too much that’s been left unsaid, and we can’t avoid it any longer.”
“I think that’s the right call,” he agrees, gently squeezing my hand. “I’ll be here for whatever you need when the time comes. Whether you want me there for moral support or just to listen as you work through your thoughts.”
I let out a soft sigh, resting my head against his chest. “Thank you, Walker. I mean it. I don’t know what I would have done without you here today.”
He brushes a soft kiss to my temple. “I’m exactly where I want to be, sweetheart.”
It’s then that I know whatever challenges lie ahead, I won’t have to face them alone, and that makes all the difference.
Guilty As Charged
Birdie and I have been at the hospital since her mom was admitted this morning. Aside from a quick trip to the cafeteria for lunch and stepping outside for a work call, the sheriff hasn’t left his wife’s side. It gives me hope that he’s capable of changing and putting his family first, like he should have from the beginning.
The doctor came by early this afternoon to check on Elizabeth and confirmed that, as long as her pneumonia continues to respond well to treatment, she’ll likely be discharged in a few days. The hospital staff has already given Birdie and her dad permission to stay overnight, so I’m heading to Birdie’s place to grab her a change of clothes and feed the animals.
When I reach my truck, I hop into the cab and check my phone. Even though Birdie sent everyone an update this morning, I still have dozens of missed calls and texts from my family, checking in to see how things are going. I had turned it off earlier to avoid causing a distraction. I’m happy to provide them with an update on Birdie’s mom, but I won’t share her Parkinson’s diagnosis. Birdie will have to share when she’s ready.
First, I shoot a quick message to Ma letting her know everything’s okay and that I’ll call with more details later. Then I reply to Briar.
Briar: Please tell me Birdie’s mom is all right.
Walker: The doctor said she should be able to go home within a few days if the pneumonia clears up.
Briar: That’s a relief. I’ll loop in Charlie and Wren.
Walker: Thanks. I’m sure Birdie will appreciate that.
