“She’s a pretty hard sleeper, so you don’t have to worry about it too much,” he says lowly.
He turns the radio on, the volume barely audible, but enough to signify he’s done talking for the rest of the ride. I lean my head against the window and look out, even though there’s nothing to see this far out of town. The streetlights are gone, and there’s nolight pollution like there was where I lived before coming back. You can’t even see the stars tonight because of all the clouds.
We ride like that for about twenty minutes before he signals. I snap out of my daze and look around. There’s no one on the road around us.
“Letting the trees know you’re turning left?” I ask, wanting to break the silence. He huffs, almost laughing.
Gravel crunches under the tires as we pull onto a side road.
“You live pretty far out here,” I comment. “I know you like your privacy, but damn. You must have quite a commute to work.”
He glances over at me briefly.
“Brynn clearly hasn’t updated you on anything about me, has she? I mean, the kid being the biggest surprise. She loves being an aunt.”
I clear my throat awkwardly, distinctly remembering the night I drunkenly begged Brynn never to tell me about Beckett Hollis’ life again.
“She probably did mention her, and it just made sense you had a kid. Other than that, we don’t really talk about you too often.”
Beck hums in acknowledgment. We hit a dip, followed by athunk thunk thunkas we drive over a small, low bridge that crosses a pretty big creek.
“I bought Mr. Denton’s ranch a while back,” he tells me.
It brings a giggle out of me.
“You? Mr. All Brains? I thought you’d be a veterinarian. That’s what you were set on for as long as I can remember.”
Beck is silent for a minute as we bounce down the gravel road.
“Things happen sometimes, Clover,” he finally says softly, glancing in the rear view mirror.
It dawns on me. The night I begged Brynn to never tell me another thing about him was the night she told me he was engaged.
I don’t see a ring on his finger, but I do see the moonlight reflecting off the face of a man with tired eyes.
It’s not my place to ask about what happened, so I don’t. I change the subject.
“That’s true. I was supposed to be an animator, but here I am, back in Montana, waiting on last checks from the project I’ve poured years of passion into. Yay, tax evasion,” I deadpan.
“I was surprised you were back. Guess that answers it.”
I shrug. “Yeah, well. Things happen sometimes,” I parrot.
I finally see a speck of light as we get closer to what I’m assuming is his home. My suspicion is confirmed quickly.
It’s large, a gorgeous black home with wood accents, and a giant covered porch with fairy lights strung along the ceiling of it. I want to stare at it forever, mesmerized by how cozy it is, but the rain picked up and it’s coming down quickly.
Beckett leans forward to look up at the dark sky through the windshield.
“Mighty odd for a rain so hard this early in the season,” he comments, scratching his dark beard.
“C’mon, Clover Jane. Let’s get inside.”
“I’ve got Purrlock!” Lennon’s gung-ho voice causes both of us to jump, not realizing she was awake.
“What?” She asks, looking between the two of us. “Well, come on now, we gotta get the stock in.” She’s standing up in the back seat, hood pulled over her head, and my cat backpack strapped to her. She’s clearly picked up on her dad’s lingo.
With that, Beckett nods once and turns a serious expression my way. I hear the truck doors unlock.
