by Liz Isaacson
Get the help you need.
“I want to hire a foreman,” he said to the cabinets in the back of the garage. “I don’t want to run the ranch anymore.” When the thoughts came into his mind, he said them. “I want to be a father and husband. I want to take the kids to the zoo with you. You’re more important than the haying or the branding. So are they.”
“Go,” JJ said from the backseat, but both Jeremiah and Whitney ignored him. Whit slid across the seat and put her hand on the side of Jeremiah’s face, gently making him look at her.
“I love you, Jeremiah Walker,” she said. “The best thing about you is you’re not afraid to fail. You’re not afraid to admit it when you’re wrong. You’re willing to change and be better.”
He blinked at her, sure he hadn’t managed to rope this angel into his life. “I’m going to do better.”
“I know you are.” She kissed him, and Jeremiah hadn’t actually been kissed like that for a while. She told him how she felt without words, and he kissed her back, hoping she knew how much he appreciated her for her good heart and bright spirit.
“Go!” JJ yelled, pulling on the door handle now. He’d already gotten himself out of the car seat, which he sometimes did while Jeremiah drove.
Jeremiah pulled away and ducked his head. “All right, Jay,” he said. “Daddy will get you out.” He glanced at Whitney again and got out of the truck, stepping to the back door to get JJ out. “You can’t yell at Daddy, though, okay? You have to be nice.”
“Nice,” JJ said, stuffing his chubby fingers in his mouth immediately afterward.
“Yes,” Jeremiah said. He loved his son, but JJ was a bit of a devil. “Strong willed,” Momma called him. And while he drove Jeremiah to frustration most days, he wanted time to enjoy his son too.
“Let’s go get the dogs, okay?”
JJ grinned, and Jeremiah checked on Whitney to make sure she was okay getting Clara, and she was.
“I’m going to put her down for a nap,” Whitney said.
“We’re going to go throw a ball for the dogs,” he said. “Okay?”
She nodded, and they went inside the homestead. Jeremiah knew he wasn’t out of the weeds yet. Whitney would forgive him, because she’d been living with him and loved him. But Wyatt could literally never talk to him again.
And Jeremiah couldn’t stand that. He didn’t want family functions to be awkward, and he’d made them that way. Foolishness filled him as he got out the dog treats and the ball. Winston had his front paws on the window by the time Jeremiah had everything ready, and he pushed the dog back, chuckling. “Let me open the door.”
He did, and the dogs ran outside, Willow barking in her excitement. He loaded up the ball in the thrower and launched it from the deck, sending both dogs after it.
JJ toddled after him, and Jeremiah watched him navigate the steps. “Good job, Jay,” he said. “You want to give them a treat?” He handed his son a beef bit as Willow got to the ball first, and the two dogs started back toward them. Willow dropped it, but Winston immediately lunged for the ball again, as if he’d brought it the whole way back.
“Drop it,” Jeremiah said. “Give her the treat, Jay.”
JJ did, and Willow sat back, ready for the ball to be thrown again. Winston still had it in his mouth, though. “Drop it,” he said again, holding up the treat. That got the dog to release the ball, and Jeremiah treated him, picked up the ball, and launched it again.
Willow was simply faster than Winston, and the only time he got the ball before her was when she bobbled it and it went bouncing off in a different direction. After only a few throws, JJ lost interest and went over to the sandbox Micah had built when the boy was born. He had trucks and cars there, and he could play happily in the sand for hours.
Jeremiah kept throwing the ball until he couldn’t put off calling Wyatt for another minute. And he’d probably need to call his mother too. And then send a family text, begging everyone for forgiveness.
You’re a good man and an excellent father. His father’s words from a few days ago meant the world to Jeremiah. All he’d wanted was for his parents to be proud of him. He did sometimes try to be superhuman.
He’d made a mistake today. Everyone made mistakes, and he cast a look at JJ to make sure the boy was still playing nearby, and then he bowed his head and prayed. Dear Lord, I’m so sorry for letting the anger inside me come out. Wyatt didn’t deserve that. Help me to find a way to make it right. Help him to forgive me.
He took a breath and paused, taking a moment to listen. He just heard the wind, but his thoughts also quieted. Help me manage this anger. I want to do better. With Thy help, I know I can do and be better.
“Daddy,” JJ said, and Jeremiah looked up, his prayer over.
“What, buddy?”
“Cow.” He pointed, and Jeremiah got up and looked around the corner of the deck. Sure enough, a cow stood there—exactly where it shouldn’t be.
Instant irritation bloomed inside him, and he had to pull back on it. “Come over here, Jay,” he said, walking toward his son with sure steps. His beef cows weren’t exactly dangerous, but they were unpredictable if they got spooked. He picked up JJ in one arm and pulled out his phone with his other hand.
“Orion,” he said when the man answered. “We’ve got at least one cow out. It’s in the backyard of the homestead.”
“I’ll grab Wallace. He’s out with the goats, and I just finished with the horses.”
“Great,” Jeremiah said. “Thank you, Orion.”
“Yep,” the cowboy said, and that was it. He didn’t know Jeremiah had belittled his brother in front of everyone, ruining the announcement Wyatt had probably been excited to say.
“Let’s go in and get lunch,” he said to JJ, because they’d left the party before Tripp had served the hamburgers and hot dogs. Inside, he found Whitney in the kitchen, stirring something in a pot.
“Mac and cheese,” she said as Jeremiah set JJ down.
“I’m going to call Wyatt,” he said. “Okay?”
She met his eye and nodded. “You can go up there if you need to.”
“I’m going to see if he’ll talk to me first.” Jeremiah’s heart beat in a strange rhythm, and he sent up another prayer that Wyatt would answer his phone.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Wyatt looked at his phone when it lit up on the table beside him. He knew Jeremiah would call, but his first instinct was to ignore him. He’d already apologized once. He didn’t need to drag things out.
“You’re not going to answer it?” Marcy asked.
Wyatt forked up another bite of spaghetti. Since he’d stormed out of the party, they hadn’t eaten, and Marcy had whipped up pasta for them. He’d apologized at least a dozen times to her. He’d forced her to choose between him and the birthday party for their son, and she’d chosen him.
“Not right now,” he said. “I already snapped once when I was annoyed, and I don’t want to do it again.”
“Okay.” Marcy pushed another piece of garlic bread onto Warren’s tray. “It’s smart not to talk until you’re ready.”
Wyatt watched the phone darken again, and a slip of disappointment pulled through him. He didn’t want to have contention between him and Jeremiah. He usually got along well with everyone, and he knew that if he were on Jeremiah’s side of the equation, he’d want to clear the air as quickly as possible.
Warren let out a screech, pushing his hands through the food on his tray, sending some of it flying.
“Okay, buddy,” Marcy said. “You’re done.” She got up and unbuckled him from the high chair. “I’m going to get him cleaned up and put him down for a nap. Want to watch a movie with me?”
“Always,” Wyatt said, realizing he was done with his lunch too. “Thanks for lunch, sugar.” He picked up his bowl and took it into the kitchen, where she stood at the sink, wrestling with their boy to try to get the sauce off his hands and face.
Wyatt put his hand on her lower back and said, “I’
m real sorry. I didn’t mean to embarrass you.”
“I know.” She smiled at him, and Wyatt’s heart started beating normally again. “It’ll only be awkward for like, a second, Wyatt. It’ll be fine. I’m okay.”
“Everyone’s going to be checking on us all day.”
“Good,” Marcy said. “You need that.”
Wyatt searched her face. “I do?”
“Yes, Wyatt,” she said. “You’re so used to being loved, and I think Jeremiah doing what he did today knocked you back into reality.” She smiled at him and made one more swipe at Warren’s face. “And it’s okay to be reminded that your family cares about you.” She hitched the baby higher on her hip. “Okay, Mister. Time for a nap.”
Wyatt watched her leave the kitchen, thinking about what she’d said. He knew his family cared about him. Didn’t he?
“Of course I do,” he said to himself. But yeah, Jeremiah’s behavior had made him wonder why he’d been so excited to share their pregnancy with the family.
Feeling calm and like he could talk to Jeremiah now, Wyatt called him back.
“Wyatt,” Jeremiah said after only one ring. “I’m—do you have a minute to talk? I can come up there too.”
“You don’t need to make the drive,” Wyatt said, feeling his chest tighten and then loosen. “Listen, I’m sorry I got all worked up and walked out. That was a bit dramatic.”
Jeremiah said nothing, and Wyatt pulled the phone away from his ear to make sure the call was still connected. It was. “Jeremiah?”
“You’re apologizing to me?”
“I didn’t have to react that way,” Wyatt said. “So…yeah. I’m sorry I let my irritation shoot to the top of my head and come out of my mouth.” He knew better, that was for sure. His public relations manager would’ve been mortified.
“I know I already said it back at Tripp’s, but I wanted to apologize again.”
“Then do it.”
“I’m sorry,” Jeremiah said. “I’m…struggling right now.”
“Yeah.” Wyatt started nodding as he moved over to the couch in the living room. “Gonna get some help for that?”
“I am,” he said. “I do too much around the ranch, and I’m going to do something about that. I’m going to go back to therapy too. And I’m going to get out to Three Rivers and do some equine therapy too.”
Wyatt couldn’t help smiling, because Jeremiah knew how to root the darkness out of his soul, and Wyatt had no doubt he’d do it. “I’d like to do the equine therapy too,” he said. “Could we go together?”
“I’d like that,” Jeremiah said.
“I’ll call Pete,” Wyatt said. “I know they book pretty far in advance, but I’ll see if he can get us in.”
“Wyatt,” Jeremiah said, his voice coming through the line a little strangely. “You’re a good man,” he finally said, the words rough around the edges now. “A good brother. I love you, and I’m real sorry I upset you.”
“I love you, too,” Wyatt said, because he did love all of his brothers. Jeremiah was intense, sure. But he was a good human, and he did amazing things with his life.
“Okay.” Jeremiah cleared his throat. “Well, let me know about the equines. I can get away any time.”
“Yeah? You really can?”
“I’ll make it work.”
“I’ll let you know.”
Jeremiah cleared his throat again and said, “Thank you, Wyatt,” in the softest, gentlest voice Wyatt had heard him use in at least six months.
“Yep,” he said, because his own chest and voice had grown tight too. “Talk to you soon.” He hung up before his own emotions could overflow, and he pressed his eyes closed. He didn’t want animosity between him and Jeremiah. Between him and anyone, and he said, “Thank you, Lord.”
“Okay,” Marcy said, coming back into the room. “What are we watching?”
“You pick,” he said. “I’ll probably fall asleep.”
“Nope,” she said, grinning at him. “I’m going to fall asleep. You pick.”
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Ivory hadn’t felt this sick since she’d been throwing up every morning while she was pregnant with Isaac. She glanced at the little boy buckled in the back seat of the car. “You’re going to see Gramma again, sweetheart,” she said to the two-year-old.
Which meant Ivory would have to face her mother too. “It’s going to be so fun,” she said, and that was definitely to psyche herself up. Tripp had taken Oliver to school, as he normally did, because her parents had done what they normally did—picked the worst time for Ivory and the others to do anything.
School had just started up again, and Oliver didn’t want to miss his first day at the junior high. Ivory didn’t blame him, and she wasn’t going to make him miss it so he could see his grandparents’ reaction to the house.
Tripp had promised to get doughnuts and meet her at the house, and Ivory had left ten minutes late on purpose in the hopes that he’d get there first. Sure enough, when she rounded the corner and the house where she’d lived for a few years came into view, Tripp’s giant black truck sat in the driveway.
So did a huge moving van and her mother’s bright red sedan. Ivory’s palms were suddenly slick, and she wiped them on her jean shorts, one at a time. She probably should’ve worn pants to move boxes, but she couldn’t go home and change now.
She pulled into the driveway, which had plenty of room for all the vehicles, and got Isaac out of the back seat. He babbled to himself as he walked along, seemingly one step away from falling. His language wasn’t as developed as JJ’s, something Ivory had worried about as she spent more time with Whitney, Marcy, Callie, and Evelyn. Simone and Mal came to the girls’ days too, and Ivory had done her best to include them though they didn’t have children. She’d want to be included if she didn’t, and when she’d hosted last month’s get-together, she’d had everything ready for bunko, as well as plenty to do for the kids so they kept busy in the living room while the ladies played in the dining area.
Penny brought a new Texas treat every time, and Ivory had really enjoyed getting to know her better. She went to lunch with Penny, just the two of them, too, and Ivory loved how open and warm her mother-in-law was. She’d determined that she wanted to be like that for her kids, no matter who they married, because she certainly hadn’t received such treatment from her parents—and they were her parents.
Bless Tripp, she prayed as she went up the steps and opened the door. “Mom?” she called. “I’m here.” Her husband was a saint, and Ivory thanked the Lord every day for him. She knew she was lucky to have him, though he was the one who claimed to have hit the lottery the day he met her.
Tripp appeared back in the kitchen and gestured to her. “Come here, babe,” he said.
Ivory looked at Isaac. “There’s Daddy. Can you say daddy?”
“Dad,” Isaac said, reaching for his father. Tripp grinned at the boy and took him from Ivory. He plunked a kiss on the baby’s head and then kissed Ivory real quick.
“How long have you been here?” she hissed out of the corner of her mouth. Her mother stood in the kitchen, opening drawers as if she expected rats to come springing out of them.
“Five minutes,” he said. “Your dad is in the bathroom.”
So he’d been alone with her mother. Great. “Mom,” Ivory said. “What do you think?”
Her mom looked up, and Ivory recalled every negative thought she’d had that day. Her mother’s eyes shone with tears, and she broke down crying as she rushed at Ivory.
“Oh, uh, okay,” Ivory said, holding onto her. Then, as if God Himself had opened a bottle of magic and poured it out, everything inside Ivory softened. She closed her eyes and drew in a deep breath of her mother’s scent.
This was her mother. The woman who’d given her life. She had been difficult to live with sometimes. She made mistakes, like everyone else. But Ivory could forgive her. She could.
“It’s wonderful,” she said. “And I’ve only been in her
e. But it’s just wonderful. Thank you, Ivory.” She sniffed and pulled back, keeping her head low as she wiped her eyes. “We’ll definitely pay you rent.”
“You don’t need to, ma’am,” Tripp said, meeting Ivory’s eye. They’d discussed at length whether or not to tell her parents about his money. Their money. All the money.
Ivory nodded, and Tripp looked back at her mom. “We have plenty of money. We bought the house with cash, and we don’t have a payment. So…we don’t need you to pay rent.”
Her mom looked at Ivory, who just nodded. She wasn’t an overly emotional person, but her throat felt like a straw, hardly able to get enough air down it.
“Don’t say anything to your dad,” she said. “But thank you.”
Tripp stepped over to her and hugged her. “We’re glad you’re here, Joan. Tell us what to do, and we’ll do it. You’ve got us for a few hours, and my brothers should be here soon.”
Ivory’s dad came out of the hallway that led back into the master suite. “This house is amazing,” he said, smiling at Ivory. He hugged her, but it wasn’t the same soft, forgiving hug Ivory had experienced with her mother. “Are we unloading?”
“Yes,” Ivory’s mom said. “Let’s start unloading, at least the boxes and little things. The brothers can get the bigger items.” She exchanged another glance with Ivory, who reached for her mom’s hand. They walked out to the driveway together while Tripp opened the garage door and her dad went to turn around the moving truck so the back faced the house.
“What are you going to do here?” Ivory asked.
“Oh, I don’t know,” her mother said, sighing. “I’ll probably look for a secretarial job. Your dad will do what he’s always done.”
Nothing, Ivory thought, watching him. He’d get a job probably, but he’d only keep it for a while. Sometimes six months. Sometimes a year. By the time Ivory was old enough to realize that her dad had a new job all the time, she’d also discovered how very poor her family was. Her mother did the best she could, and she’d retired from the doctor’s office where she’d worked for two decades a year or so ago.