"I made photocopies of top secret work," she tells me. “Then she gave me crayons."
We stop at the grocery store before heading back home. I pick up enough food so I don’t have to go out again for the next couple of days. I’m going to wait until tomorrow to tackle all these bills. Even if I wanted to do it now, my head is all over the place.
Sofia helps me carry in the groceries and stays by my side as I put away the food. It’s like she knows I need her. I’m grabbing things to make dinner when there is a soft knock on the door. I look over at the door, but my feet stick on the floor like glue.
The knock comes again, and I look over at Sofia, who looks at me and then the door. I grab the rag and walk to the door. My hands shake as I unlock the door and open it just a touch. My body goes tense when I see who is standing there.
"Is that Hazel?" I hear Charlotte say, and then I’m pushed aside as Sofia sticks her face in the little opening. Charlotte gasps, and I open the door fully. She stands there holding two bags in her hands with Billy right beside her. My eyes tear up when I see him.
"Sorry," I say, trying to act as calm and cool as I can, while on the inside, I’m slightly freaking the fuck out. "Please come in,” I say, moving aside and waiting for them to come in.
"We won’t keep you, dear," Charlotte says, and I just smile at her.
"We heard about Kaine," Billy starts to say, and I can see the tears in his eyes. “Toughest son of a bitch I knew." Charlotte goes over to him and smiles at him. “Except for when it came to you two,” he says.
"Thank you,” I say and feel an arm around my leg. “Sofia,” I say to her. “This is Pops’ friend."
"Do you have a tractor, too?" she asks, making everyone laugh.
Billy squats down in front of her. “I do have a tractor," he says, and she smiles at him and looks up at me. “And I also have horses." Her mouth opens. “If you convince your momma to bring you over, I’ll let you ride one." I don’t say anything, and I thank God that neither does Sofia.
"We brought you some stuff to eat," Charlotte says, handing me the brown bags.
"You didn’t have to,” I say, looking at the brown bags and knowing they’re filled to the brim with food. "Thank you."
"It’s the least we could do," Billy says, and Charlotte just looks at him and crosses her arms over her chest. I laugh at her. “He used to come and see us," Billy starts. “Every single time he got a new picture of Sofia or when you sent him something of her, he couldn’t wait to show it off." I roll my lips now as he looks at Sofia.
"We should go," Charlotte says. She comes over and takes me in her arms. “If you need anything, dear,” she says, “you don’t be shy."
"Thank you,” I say. Billy comes to me, and when he hugs me, I close my eyes. The tears run down my face and soak into his shirt.
"You need us,” he says, “you call."
He turns and waits for Charlotte to walk out before heading out the door. "Wait,” I say, stepping forward. He turns now to look at me. “I have a couple of things to look through, but I was wondering if maybe you were looking to buy more property." He looks at me. “From what I was told, it’s not going to be long before the bank takes it over. I know he would want you to have it."
"I’ll have Casey come over with me on Monday,” he says. “We’ll figure it all out."
I just nod at him, and he turns and walks out of the house, closing the door softly behind him. Only then do I let go of the breath I was holding.
Chapter 7
Reed
"We’ve been hit." I heard the screaming all around me. “We’ve been hit." Opening my eyes, I was on my back. The sky above me was filled with gray clouds.
"Is everyone accounted for?" I mumbled as I tried to get enough energy to keep my eyes open. I heard a buzzing in my ear as I turned my head, feeling the blood drip off my forehead.
Shards of glass were all over me, and when I lifted my hand, it was covered in blood. "Fuckers are shooting." I heard the commotion around me as my guys tried to get to shelter.
"Cavalry is five minutes out," I heard someone say, and I dragged myself to the side of the building. Looking around, I saw the little girl in the corner. She sat with her back to the wall, hugging her knees to her chest. She held out her hand to me with tears streaming down her face.
"Cover me,” I said, trying to get up, but the guys wanted to stop me. I took one step toward the little girl before I heard the click, and everything blew up.
My eyes fly open, and I see the darkness again. I raise my hand to my face and see that it’s clean. My chest heaves, and I make it just in time to vomit in the trash can by the bed.
I climb out of bed, walking to the bathroom. My body and head feel numb from reliving the dream over and over again. After rinsing out my mouth, I slip on shorts and walk to the kitchen to make coffee. Seeing it’s a little after five in the morning, I grab my coffee, walk outside, and sit down, looking ahead.
Sunday is the day I finally get to see everyone. I mean, I’ve seen a couple of people since I’ve been back, but mostly, they’ve been giving me my space. Grabbing my running shoes, I walk over to the gym and get on the treadmill, replaying what I did yesterday to bring on the nightmare. I was going on two days without having that fucking dream, so the only thing I can think of is that I didn’t work out hard enough.
I run on the treadmill for a couple of hours. My head goes over lists and lists of things for me to do. It also comes up with excuses for me to leave early.
When I get dressed later, in jeans and a white shirt, I decide to walk to my grandparents’ house. Prolonging the inevitable, I can see the people as soon as I get closer. It never fails, and for the first time since I’ve been here, I actually smile. I spot a couple of kids running toward me and see Ethan’s son, Gabriel, with Tucker, Chelsea’s son. "Hey, Uncle Reed," Gabriel says. “My dad said you would be later because he pushed you so hard yesterday that you wouldn’t be able to walk."
I grab Gabriel around his neck, teasing him. “Is that so?" I joke with him and pick him up. The sound of him laughing gets me.
I put him down and bend to pick up Tucker, who I’ve met through fucking FaceTime. “You look like your dad,” I say, and he smiles.
“I’m going to be strong like him,” he says, and I laugh. I walk with my arms around Gabriel and Tucker all the way to the chaos that is my family.
"This one yours?" I look at Ethan, and he smirks.
"He talks a big game." I look at him. “You need to bring him into the gym,” I say.
"Nah," Ethan says. “He’s too busy trying to be a cowboy."
"Really?" I look over at him, and he smiles big. “You don’t say."
"I’m going to be rodeo king,” he says proudly.
"You think so,” I say, and he nods his head and crosses his arms over his chest very much like his father. "Well, I’ll stop by this week and see what you got."
"Uncle Reed." I hear my father talking and look over at him. “He was the best cowboy I’ve ever seen." Gabriel looks at me like he’s unsure. “If he stayed with it, I have no doubt he would have destroyed my record."
"That’s not exactly true,” I say, and he looks at me.
"Yes, it is. You were twelve years old and walked out after the best round anyone has ever seen and you were, like, done. Nothing could change your mind," he says, and I have to shake my head. The memory is now a little bit foggy.
"There you are," I hear Chelsea say, coming to us. “I have been looking for you all over the place."
"Is she talking to you or me?" I ask Tucker, who shrugs.
"I’m talking to both of you." She comes over and gives me a hug first. “Asshole," she whispers so no one can hear and then stands back and punches me in my shoulder.
"Mom," Tucker says, laughing.
"That’s for not calling me back,” she says and then punches me again. "That’s for not coming home in six years." She pulls her hand back again, but Mayson grabs her around her waist.
"Easy there,” he says, putting his hand on her stomach. “Leave the man be."
"Yeah." I place Tucker in front of me holding him as a shield, in case she tries to hit me again. “Leave me be."
"Auntie Savannah," I call to my aunt, who is sitting with my mother. She gets up and rushes over to me.
"You little shit,” she says softly as she puts her head on my chest. “You’re too skinny,” she says, and I laugh now.
"Chelsea hit me,” I say, putting an arm around her shoulder, and she shakes her head. “Twice." I hold up two fingers. “Tell her, Tucker."
"Don’t you," Chelsea says to her son, and he laughs at her. I’m about to say something else when I see my brother, Quinn, walking in. His little girl, Grace, is on his hip as she looks up at him and tells him something. Willow is walking beside them.
Quinn looks around the yard, and when he spots me, he points in my direction, and she smiles. Another kid I met through FaceTime. He walks over to us. “Here he is. Uncle Reed,” he says, and I scrunch my nose up to her.
I hold out my hands to her, and to my surprise, she comes to me. “Want to go pet the horses?" I ask, and she nods.
"Where is Amelia?" Chelsea asks, looking around, and I see her waddling in.
"She looks pissed,” I say and then look back at the group. “Why does she look so pissed?"
"She’s almost overdue," Chelsea says, laughing, but then turns her face when Amelia glares at us.
"She should blame her husband," I tell the group. “He put her in that state." I look back down at Grace. "Let’s get away before she comes over."
"She needs to wash her hands," Willow says, “before she eats."
"She’s fine," Quinn says. “Reed has her."
I turn now and kiss Grace’s head. “When did you get so big?" I ask, and she points with her finger.
"Horse,” she says, and I laugh.
When we get to the barn, I put her down and hold out my hand. “Ready, girl?" She nods her head and walks with me. "Show me where your horse is," I say. She pulls my hand toward her stall, and sure enough, her name is out there.
She doesn’t stop talking for five seconds, and when my father comes into the barn an hour later, she runs to him. “Grampy," she says. “Uncle Reed said a bad word."
"One time," I tell my father. “You weren’t supposed to tell anyone." I walk to her and tickle her stomach. She tries to push me off through her giggles.
"It’s good to have you home," my father says with a smile on his face.
"Yeah, it’s nice." I surprise even myself when I admit it as I follow him out of the barn.
Kids are running around everywhere, and I see Christopher talking with Harlow. "Feels just like it always did." I laugh now. “Except another generation."
"It’s amazing to see," my father says. “When Dad started this tradition, it was only Ethan."
"Now there are five hundred of us," I joke. My father puts Grace down and holds her hand.
"I heard you pushed it in the gym,” he says, and I nod.
"Yeah, it’s been good,” I say. “I have an appointment on Tuesday with the same doctor Ethan used to talk to."
"He’s good," my father says, and I nod. My father played a big part in Ethan coming back home. "Came highly recommended back then, so I can only imagine now."
"I have about three more weeks,” I say, and he smiles, and then you see the sadness in his eyes.
"I missed you,” he says softly.
"We spoke all the time,” I say, the guilt starting to creep over me now.
"I know,” he says, and Grace lets go of his hand. “Go see Grammy," he tells Grace, and we watch her walk toward my mom. "But having you here," he says, “I just realized how much I missed you.” He puts his hand around my neck like I did to Gabriel not long ago. “Even your shitty attitude.”
I laugh. “I never had a shitty attitude,” I say, and his hand comes up to slap his stomach as he bursts out howling with laughter.
"It was close," he says. “I thought I was going to have to knock you out at one point." I look over at him. “You need to thank your mother and your grandfather for saving your life."
I shake my head. “You didn’t even know you were being a little shit." My father looks at me. “You were miserable, completely and utterly miserable, and the minute you told us you were leaving, you were a changed person."
"I didn’t know that you knew,” I say softly, feeling bad about the way I acted without even knowing. “I thought I hid it."
"Maybe to the people who didn’t know you or have to live with you," my father says. “But to anyone who knew you." He shakes his head. “It was your grandfather who called it." My eyebrows pinch together. “‘Set him free,’" he told me. “He’ll come back." My father looks toward Quinn and Harlow, who laugh at something. “The hardest thing in my life was having you leave, knowing in my heart you would never come back." I see the tears form in his eyes. “Keeping strong in front of your mother was the second hardest thing." He smirks, turning and slapping his hand on my shoulder. “You’ll never understand until you have a child,” he says. I want to hold up my hand and tell him that it will never happen. "Why don’t you do your dad a favor,” he says, “and come spend the day with me tomorrow?"
Seeing my father so open with me shifts something inside me, knowing he knew how unhappy I was and that he struggled with it just as much as I did. Today is a good day, I think to myself. Today, for the first time in six years, I’m happy to be here. I say the word that shocks both of us, not knowing just how much my life is going to change. "Okay."
Chapter 8
Hazel
* * *
The smell of lemon fills the air as I pass the hardwood floor in the living room. “Okay,” I say, walking back to the pails and rinsing it off once. I wash it one more time before I think it’s clean enough. The soft breeze from outside comes into the house. For the past two days, I’ve been cleaning the house from top to bottom. I was doing everything I needed to in order to keep myself from breaking down, but I was starting to wear thin. The days are filled with cleaning the house, and the nights are filled with regret and questions. I start angry and then slowly end up with my head on the kitchen table while I sob. My grandfather is gone, and now I have to give up the only thing I have left of him.
* * *
Billy showing up is a sign. If anyone out there was willing to buy the farm, it would be the Barneses. It’s no secret that they own most of the properties, so what’s one more?
Asking Billy to buy the farm was a huge thing. Now that I knew Casey would be coming around, my nerves were on edge. I’m barely sleeping, and when I do, all I do is dream of Reed, which makes me wake up in a pissed-off mood. "Why don’t we start moving the furniture?" I look at Sofia, who is wearing jean overalls with rubber boots.
* * *
The company just came by and picked up Pops’ hospital bed. "Where do you want to put this?" Sofia points at the recliner where Pops used to sit.
* * *
"That," I say with a smile on my face. “Goes right here.” I push it to the spot in the corner where it always was. “You know why?" She shakes her head. “Because you can see who comes to the front door,” I say, pointing at the window and seeing that it is true, but now with the overgrown weeds, you can’t see anything really. “And you see the television perfect.” She nods her head at me, and I push the stuff around. The hair on the top of my head is slowly falling out of the bun. It takes me over an hour of pushing to fix things. The whole time, Sofia is either sitting and watching or “helping.”
* * *
"There," I say, pushing the couch against the wall. “How’s this?" I look over at Sofia, who is helping by pushing her side of the couch.
* * *
"I like it,” she says, plopping down on the couch. “Comfy." She pats the space next to her. “Come sit, Momma."
* * *
"Okay." I smile as I sit next to her, putting my arm around h
er and pulling her to me. I kiss her soft brown hair. "Much better,” I say, looking down at her. “You make everything better, Sofia." The ding of the kitchen timer rings, letting me know my cookies are ready.
* * *
Sofia flies off the couch and jumps up and down. “It’s ready." She puts her hands together with excitement.
* * *
"They are,” I say, getting up and walking to the kitchen.
* * *
"Be careful, Momma," she tells me. “It’s hot."
* * *
I laugh at her and grab the oven mitt, opening the oven. The two baking trays are on the middle rack, and the cookies are a golden brown. “They look good,” I tell Sofia, putting them on the stovetop. She comes over to stand next to me, not getting too close, and gets on her tippy-toes. Ever since I had Sofia, baking has been my favorite pastime. I had a book of recipes from my great-grandmother that Pops brought me when he visited once Sofia was born. Batch after batch, I would give it my own spin. It even helped out when things were tight, and I would sell the cookies at school. Word spread, and it was a quick side job, but I’ve not done this in a while. The only cookies I bake now are for Sofia’s school and us.
* * *
"Can I have one?" she asks.
* * *
"Soon,” I say, and she yawns. “Are you tired?" She shakes her head and rubs her eyes. She woke up at four thirty today and refused to go back to sleep.
* * *
"Why don’t we go and snuggle and watch a movie, and then we can have some cookies and milk?" I pick her up, and she puts her head on my shoulder.
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