by Kelly, Amber
“It’s your fault I’m so exhausted,” she murmurs on a sigh.
I slide my hand up the inside of her thigh. “Then, I’ll have to find a creative way to wake you up. Come take a shower with me,” I beckon as I find the spot that makes her moan my name.
She squirms beneath my touch until I have her fully awake. Then, I lead her to the shower.
After getting each other thoroughly clean, I help make toast as she cooks eggs and bacon and brews a pot of coffee.
She is awake enough to be freaking out again. I can see it as her eyes follow me around her kitchen, but I’m done handling her with kid gloves. She’s going to have to get used to the fact that I’m here and I’m not going anywhere.
I grab ketchup from the fridge, make a plate, and sit at the island across from her where I start eating.
“You put ketchup on your eggs?” she asks as she watches me do just that.
“Yep,” I answer.
“Why?”
“Because I like it. Been doing it since I was a kid.” I shrug.
She starts to say something else just as the door swings open, and Beau comes stomping in. I see the immediate panic cross her face before she tucks it in. She wasn’t expecting them to get home so soon, and I’m pretty sure she was hoping I’d be gone before they did.
“You’re home early,” she says as he climbs up in the stool beside me.
“Pop-Pop got a bellyache at church and made us come home. He told Nana he needed to sit on his own throne. Did you know he had a throne, Mommy?” he asks.
She chuckles as she pours him a mug of chocolate milk and places it in front of him. “I did not,” she replies.
“I asked Nana if I could see it, and she said nobody wants to follow him in there.”
Dallas loads him a plate with scrambled eggs and butters a slice of toast while he chatters away.
He looks over at me as he pulls his mug of chocolate milk to him and blows on the top of it, just as I’m doing with my coffee.
Then, he snags the bottle of ketchup and squeezes a dollop on his eggs. He takes a bite, makes a face, and then continues to dig in.
Dallas watches him closely as he mimics my actions.
After a few minutes, he starts filling us in about his Sunday school class’s upcoming field trip to a dairy farm. What Jesus has to do with milking cows is lost to us, but we listen intently as he continues.
He stops mid-sentence and looks at me in question.
“Did you and Mommy have a sleepover without me?” he asks as he blinks up at me.
Dallas’s pleading eyes fly to me.
“Nah, I just came over to have breakfast with you guys,” I lie.
He looks at me funny and then asks, “Why come your hair is wet?” He takes another bite.
“It’s why is your hair wet, baby. Not why come. And his hair is wet because he took a shower right before he came over, and it hasn’t had time to dry yet,” Dallas answers as she pours herself a cup of coffee.
He points down at my bare feet.
“Why come—I mean, why don’t you have any shoes on?”
He’s an observant little devil.
“I mopped the floor last night, and I didn’t want him tracking in dirt,” Dallas says without skipping a beat, “so I made him take his boots off like I try to get you to do before you come in the house.”
She carefully watches him as the next question hits the air.
“Why aren’t you wearing any socks?”
I lean in and answer low, “Sometimes, I like to go without socks. My feet get sweaty.”
I do my best to hold in my laughter as Dallas’s eyes meet mine.
He nods. Then, he leans in and whispers, “Mine too, but Mommy won’t let me wear my boots without socks. She says it makes my feet stinky.”
“Is that right?” I ask.
“Yep, so you’d better put some on, or she won’t let you have sleepovers here anymore.”
Then, he takes the last bite of his breakfast and hops down.
“May I be excused, Mommy?”
“You may,” she says, and he scurries off toward his room.
Dallas’s eyes follow him, and then she says, “I think he might know.”
It’s then that I burst into laughter.
Dallas
Sophie hugs Charlotte as we drop her off at Denver International Airport.
“I can’t believe you’re leaving already. Two weeks flew by,” Sophie says as I unload the bag from the back of the truck.
“I know.” Charlotte pouts. “But it’s time to get back to the real world where vanilla soy lattes with extra foam and spin class exist. Besides, I’ll be back in a couple of months for the wedding.”
I place her bag at her feet, and she turns and opens her arms wide.
“Dallas, I’m so happy I got to finally meet you. Take care of our girl,” she says as I step into her embrace. Then, she pulls back and adds, “And that hunky cowboy of yours.”
She winks at us before she slides her designer sunglasses onto her face, grabs the handle of her suitcase, and sashays into the airport. Her full New York attitude snapped firmly back in place as we watch her disappear into the crowd.
We get back into the truck to head home.
“You know, I think I’m going to miss her,” I say.
“She’s good people. A little nutty, but that’s part of her charm. And I love her and Mom to death, but honestly, having them both in town has been exhausting. I’m ready for them to leave,” Sophie admits. “Maybe now, we can get back to normal.”
Normal.
“I’m not even sure what that is anymore,” I tell her as we pull off.
She peeks a sideways glance at me while trying to watch the road ahead.
“Yeah, about that, how did the rest of your weekend go?” she asks stealthily.
“Exactly how you think it went,” I say pointedly.
“Yay,” she clips. “How was it?”
I sigh. “Amazing.”
“Your place or his?” she asks.
“Mine.”
“Did he stay the night?”
“Yep.”
“How many orgasms are we talking?” she asks, and clearly, my nosy nature has rubbed off on her.
I look over and narrow my eyes at her. “Three, if you count the one in the shower the next morning. And might I add, you are enjoying this little interrogation an awful lot.”
She grins. “I sure am. So, where did you guys leave things?”
“It’s weird. We got up Sunday, and we showered. Then, he started helping me make breakfast, and before I knew what was happening, we were taking Beau to the park in town, having a picnic, and he was teaching Beau how to hold and throw a football properly,” I spew.
“That sounds like fun to me,” she says carefully.
“It was fun,” I agree.
“Then, why do you sound so put out?” she asks, confused.
“Because I was freaking out, and he acted like it was the most natural thing in the world to wake up and spend the day together. No discussion. No, what are we doing? Nothing.”
I throw my arms up in exasperation.
“And the worst part is, Beau did the same damn thing. When he came in from Momma’s and saw Myer sitting there, having breakfast, he didn’t bat an eye. Little turkey even called us out when we lied about having a sleepover. No, why are you here? What’s going on? Just a shrug, and let’s go play.”
She bites her bottom lip as she fights a laugh.
“What’s so funny?” I snap.
“I remember when I was the one freaking out after spending the night with Braxton and you having to talk me down. It’s nice, being on this side of the equation,” she says.
“Grr, not helping.”
“Okay, look, Beau’s not acting weird because it’s Myer, and there is nothing strange about Myer being at your house. He knows him, he loves him, and he trusts him, so he’s completely comfortable with waking up to Myer in the kitchen. And
Myer is not acting weird because he’s a man. Men apparently don’t have the freak-out gene that we do. They decide they want something, and they take hold of it. Bam. No fuss. No long-drawn-out discussion needed. Braxton sent me a thumbs-up when I texted him about my dad seeing me leave his apartment one morning. It’s frustrating, I get it, but if you’re waiting for him to feel the same panic you do, you’re gonna be disappointed.”
“Yeah, well, he sends me a stupid thumbs-up emoji, and I will break his thumb off his hand and shove it somewhere extremely uncomfortable,” I huff.
“That’s what I’m saying,” she agrees.
We make it back to Poplar Falls just in time to get an hour of work in before I have to pick Beau up from school.
When I pull into the passenger pickup line, Mrs. Perry meets me at the truck with Beau.
“Hey, Mommy,” Beau greets cheerfully.
“Hey, baby. How was your day?”
“I made Josh laugh at lunch, and milk came out of his nose,” he says excitedly.
“Ew, nasty,” I say as I strap him in.
“It was great. So gross.”
I shake my head. The things boys like.
Once I have him in the truck, I shut the door and turn to his teacher. “What’s up? You never walk him all the way out.”
She usually stands at the head of the pickup line and watches for the children to make it to their parents.
“We had some unusual activity today. A gentleman sat on the bus bench across the street most of the afternoon. I could see him out the window. He wasn’t doing anything wrong per se. It was just odd to show up hours before your bus is scheduled and just sit there. He was finally picked up about half an hour ago. I’m sure he was just passing through, but I felt it better to walk each child out today.”
“Thank you. I’m sure you’re right, but I appreciate you caring so much about the kids’ safety,” I say as I hug her.
“They’re my babies too. Every one of them,” she says as she leans down into the window and waves at Beau. “I’ll see you in the morning, Beau.”
“Bye-bye, Mrs. Perry.” He waves back.
Myer
I’m in the barn, transferring bales of hay from the trailer to the floor. We ordered extra this week to use for seating for the branding this weekend. Branding is a tradition here in Poplar Falls. Every May, friends and family gather on a ranch and watch the branding of the calves before the summer grazing season begins. Horsemen and wranglers from other ranches volunteer to help.
It’s been nonstop prep for the last few days. Pop, Truett, Foster, and I have been getting the ranch ready and the corrals set up while Momma, Bells, and the other ladies in town have been picnic-planning.
Braxton, Walker, Emmett, and Jefferson will be a part of our branding this year, and Pop, Truett, and I will be at Rustic Peak to help the following week.
Our branding day here on Stoney Ridge usually pulls in about fifty to seventy-five spectators. After which, we serve a feast. There’s something special about gathering with your neighbors, giving thanks to God for his provision, having the reverend bless our land, working hard, and then spending the evening eating and drinking in fellowship. We are a community based in support for one another. It’s a beautiful thing.
In addition to getting everything ready for Saturday, we have to prepare our fences and watering systems to move the herds into the summer grazing pastures after the branding.
Ranchers get very little sleep in the spring.
I hear footsteps and look up to find Dallas walking into the barn.
The sight of her takes my breath away damn near every time she walks in a room.
I drop the bale in my hands, wipe the sweat from my brow, and walk over to greet her.
“Hey,” she says, looking around. “Working hard, I see.”
“Yeah, just getting everything ready for the weekend.”
“I tried to call. I hope it’s okay I dropped by,” she says nervously.
Is she kidding?
“Of course it is. You can drop by anytime,” I tell her.
“I know you’re busy and probably really tired, so I thought maybe Beau and I could come here for supper tonight. I mean, if you want, I could make supper at your cabin, so you don’t have to cook. I can have it ready when you get done working.” She’s babbling now.
“I’d love that,” I cut her off.
She smiles. “Okay. I’ll make spaghetti. I’ll just bring everything I need with me.”
“Let me get you the keys,” I say as I remove my gloves, and we walk in the direction of my truck.
“Are you guys ready for Saturday?” she asks.
“As ready as we can be, I guess. Foster pulled a muscle in his back, so he can’t do the roping. That leaves just me and Brax on horseback, but Emmett called and said he’d help Truett with cutting, so Walker can ride. Pop and Jefferson are going to be doing the branding,” I share.
“At least the weather is going to be nice this year. Remember last year, we all sat in the pouring rain, watching you guys slip and slide around, roping calves in mud all day,” she says, laughing at the memory.
“It’s funny now, but it wasn’t at the time,” I recall.
I open my truck and fish my keys from the console, and then I start removing my spare cabin key from the ring.
“What time do you think you’ll be finishing up?” she asks.
“I should be wrapping up around five.”
“Okay. I’m going into town to help Momma in the bakery for a couple hours. She’s trying to get all the cakes and pies done for this weekend. Then, I have to swing by Rustic Peak and pick Beau up from his riding lesson. We’ll run by our house and grab all the stuff we need to cook and meet you at your place.”
Momma and Bells emerge from the house, and Momma spots us and calls out to Dallas.
I place the key in her hand, and she trots off to say hello to them while I grab my phone. I have three missed calls.
One is from Dallas, and two are from Doreen.
I dial her number back.
“Myer?” Her frantic voice comes over the line.
“Yeah. What’s wrong?” I ask.
“Is Dallas there? She told Sophia she was going to Stoney Ridge when she left here.”
“Yeah, she’s up at the house, talking with Momma and Bells. Do you need her?”
“There’s been an accident. We’re getting in the truck now and heading to the hospital.”
I listen intently as she explains.
Dallas waves to the girls and comes jogging back over to me. The smile drops from her face as she takes me in.
“We’re on our way. Yes, I’ll drive her,” I say as I disconnect. “Go grab your purse and lock up your truck,” I tell her as I start toward the house.
“Momma, tell Daddy the back barn door is open, and the trailer bed has half a stack of bales on it. I have to run Dallas into town, and I don’t know when I’ll be back,” I yell up to the porch.
“Everything okay?” she calls back, concern in her voice.
“Yeah, I just need him or Truett to pull the trailer all the way in and close up. I’ll finish unloading it in the morning. I’ll call you later and fill you in.”
“Okay, son,” she says as I turn and see Dallas fumbling in her truck.
She emerges with her phone in her hand. She raises it in the air. “I’ve got a bunch of missed calls from Rustic, but nobody is picking up now,” she says.
I rush to her. “Come on. Let’s get in my truck,” I say as I shut her door.
She stands in place, distress written all over her. “What’s wrong?”
Dallas
“I need you to stay calm,” he says as he places his hands on my shoulders.
“Calm? Why? What happened?”
“There was an accident over at Rustic Peak,” he says as he looks me in the eye.
“What kind of accident?”
My mind starts whirling in a hundred directions. Was there a fire? Di
d someone turn over a bush hog? Fall from the barn? It could be anything.
“A tractor backfired out in the field. Apparently, it was sudden and loud. They were too close to the stables …”
Oh God, no. Beau is at his riding lesson this afternoon.
Myer can feel the sudden shift in my body, and he moves in closer.
“Please,” I whisper as I close my eyes tightly.
“It’s okay. Everyone is okay,” he says as his lips touch my forehead.
I feel my body relax at his reassurance.
“Beau was on one of the horses. It bucked him. He was wearing his helmet, and Madeline was able to get him clear of the animal before his rear came down. She took his back legs to her hip,” he says.
I open my eyes and look up at him. “Is she okay?”
“She might have a fracture in her hip, but she’s going to be fine.”
“Beau?”
“They think he broke his arm,” he says gently.
“Where is he?” I say in a panic.
I have to get to him. I have to get to my baby right now. I move around him and open my purse and start frantically searching for my truck keys. The purse slips from my hand, and its contents scatter across the ground.
“Dammit!” I scream as I fall to my knees and start gathering my mess. “Where is he?”
He kneels down in front of me. “Doreen took him straight to the emergency room down at County General. Come on. I’ll take you,” he says as he tugs me up from the gravel.
He reaches down and grabs my wallet and keys.
Bells comes running down the steps of the porch. “I’ll get the rest. You guys go on,” she says as she gets to us.
I hand her my purse. “Thank you,” I say as I take off running to Myer’s truck.
“Mommy!”
I hear his cry as I burst through the door. Three sets of eyes fly to me. Doreen, who is sitting beside Beau’s bed, stands and gives me space as a nurse sets up a tray by the opposite side. I take a deep breath and calm my shaking nerves before I walk to him.
I look at his left arm, which is an alarming shade of purple and has an unnatural bow from his elbow to his wrist. My stomach rolls, and I have to look away.