“Oh my God, Chris! Really? Sabe, make sure he falls off.”
Sabin strides toward me and takes my hand as he eloquently removes his hat and gets down on one knee. “Whatever my darlin’ cowgirl wants.” He kisses my hand and then looks up as though he’s going to say something, but then he stops himself. He holds my hand in his while he struggles for words.
I shake my head a touch. “I hear you. You don’t have to say anything at all. I hear you.”
He kisses my hand again. “Your boyfriend is about to fall off a horse. Get ready!”
Sabin, of course, does not let Chris fall, and for the next thirty minutes, I escape the troubled afternoon and just watch. The strength of the bond between these brothers is strong, but that strength is grounded in turmoil, and that worries me. There is endless love, but an additional piece is beginning to show, and I cannot identify it. It’s a dynamic that hasn’t yet fully played out.
“We have to stop meeting like this.”
I turn and blush a bit when I see Pearce. “Hello, again.”
Sabin waves enthusiastically. “Pearce! This is my big brother, Chris! Look how well he’s doing.”
Pearce waves and gives a thumbs-up. “Lookin’ good there! You’re a solid teacher, Sabin. Nice job.” He leans against the railing with me and squints before he taps down his cowboy hat. “You enjoying your trip?” he asks.
“I am. Been exploring the city a bit, being a little touristy on occasion, but I think that’s allowed. It’s nice to see where Sabin lives. I especially like being here, watching him with Mia. It’s a peaceful place to be.”
“We could all use a little peace now and then, huh?”
I sigh. “You’re not kidding.”
He follows Sabin with his eyes for a minute. “Sabin doing all right?”
I look at Pearce. “Yeah. Why do you ask?”
He tips his head to the side a bit. “He’s been working when he doesn’t have to. Trying to keep busy. Probably avoiding a few things. Sabin’s a drinker, right?”
“How did you know?” I can’t hide my surprise.
He shrugs. “I might know a thing or a hundred about that.” Pearce smiles a bit. “It’s easy for me to see it. That’s all.”
“You used to drink?” I ask hesitantly. I don’t know the rules about talking about this stuff, but he brought it up.
“Yes, ma’am. That’s why I’m not married anymore. Been sober for twenty years now. Drinking away your problems only makes new ones, I learned. So, I quit. Carrying around a lot though, that boy. I’m guessing booze was the least of it.”
“You know Sabin pretty well.”
“Not details, but I don’t need details to know Sabin has a story. And it’s a whopper.”
“Yeah,” I agree. “It’s a whopper.” There’s no disguising the sadness in my voice.
“He’s a good kid. Really good kid. Tough as nails. Just a little unsteady right now. Sabin’s got some shit to work through, and this is as good a place as any to do it.”
“You watch over him, don’t you?”
“As long as he lives here, you bet I do.” Pearce stands up and gestures to Sabin. “Watch the reins, Sabin. Getting too loose there.”
Sabin nods and tightens the reins in Chris’s hands while he continues to walk next to his brother and Mia.
“There you go. See how that’s better?” Pearce rubs his palm over the stubble on his cheek. “I’ll be here if he needs anything, Blythe, okay? He’s good people. He’s got a home here, no matter what.”
Sabin is singing at a club this evening. He’s always loved the spotlight, and I’m excited to see him on stage.Stagemight be a grander term than necessary, given that we’re going to a restaurant/bar that probably doesn’t offer up a massive performance area, but that’s fine. It’s the night before New Year’s Eve, so I don’t know what kind of crowd will be out tonight, but the six of us will be there to cheer him on.
I’m picking up Sabin so that he can get there early, and the others will meet us. I’m a little stressed because I’m running late. It took me forever to get ready tonight, which is unusual for me because—much to Estelle’s dislike—I’m not much for fashion. Yet I couldn’t figure out what to wear or how to do my hair or makeup, so I eventually caved and called on Estelle for help. It’s not as though we’re going to a formal gala, but I wanted to look nice. It’s a night on the town. It’s for Sabin.
I’m parked under a tree outside the path to Sabin’s place, but I sit in the car for a few minutes and fuss with my lip gloss and then curl my hair around my fingers, trying to feel comfortable. Estelle fluffed out my hair into a wild mane of curls and assigned me fitted boot-cut jeans paired with heels and a shirt that shows more cleavage than I usually do. I pull on the back of the shirt to raise the fabric in the front, and then I pull down the front. It’s just going to slip back that way anyhow. Might as well go with it.
