He was three and named after her husband’s grandfather, Randall Charles Burin. I refused to acknowledge how closely the nickname resembled my own. From what little I knew about my nephew, he was exactly like his uncle had been growing up. The one picture I’d seen told me he looked like him, too.
“You don’t have a hard time keeping up?” I winced the second it came out of my mouth.
Sarah either didn’t care or chose to ignore my insensitivity. “No more than any other stay-at-home mom chasing three overly active kids whose husband leaves before the sun comes up.”
I wasn’t privy to how it had all happened, primarily because I hadn’t asked, and I’d refused to go home for the wedding. Sarah had ended up marrying Charlie Burin about a year after I left, and the twins were born six months later against doctors’ advice. There was no way to ask for details without hearing about Austin, and even years later, I couldn’t bear the idea of his name passing my lips. Sarah had brought him up once, and I’d promptly hung up and refused her calls for months. She had never mentioned him again.
“I really wish you’d come home for a visit, Randi. You’d love them.” Melancholy mixed with love in her tone. If only that had been the way she’d communicated with me as a teen, things might have been different now.
I gave her the same response I always did. “I can’t.”
“Because of work?”
“And other things.” It was vague, and she always let it go at that point.
Just not today. “Like what?”
I ran my fingers through my hair, wishing for the first time that it was still long so I’d have something to pull on or play with.
“Is it Eason? Do you not want to leave him?”
“Partly.” That was a lie.
I hated not being able to see her expressions when we talked. I missed the nuances that crossed her eyes, and her posture said more than the words she chose.
“Bring him, too.”
“Daddy would never go for that.” And not for the reasons she thought. “Plus, it would be impossible for us to get time off work together. Not to mention the cost of tickets. And there’s no hotel in Mason Belle.” I had to offer her something. Continually refusing her invitations got old.
“Is that it…or are there reasons in Mason Belle?” It was a brazen attempt at bringing up things that kept us apart. Not that we’d ever been close after Mama had left.
There was nothing there for me.
Sarah had this Mary Poppins image in her mind of a happy family reunion, when in all likelihood, it would result in more hurt feelings and cross words. Daddy had made his point the day I’d left. There was nothing else to say. “My past doesn’t need to collide with my present, Sarah. You’re welcome to come here anytime.” She’d never come. Charlie wouldn’t let her. That, I didn’t have to worry about.
“Okay, Randi.” Regret lingered on the line. It was the only sound I heard from home. And also the number-one reason I’d never returned. “Well, I guess I’ll let you get back to Eason. Give him our love.”
Somehow, I’d made it through without her detailing life at the farm, the people who worked on it, or Daddy’s antics. I needed to quit while I was ahead. “Sure thing. Goodnight, Sarah.”
I hung up the phone and tossed it onto the coffee table in front of me. Every call ended the same way. Every conversation left me laden with guilt. There was a reason I only did this twice a month. Miranda Adams was happy with the life and friends she’d made in the city. Randi, on the other hand, was forever homesick. Unfortunately, missing Texas would never be reason enough to return.
It was best—for everyone involved—that I stayed on this side of the Mason Dixon line.
2
Austin
“Good morning, Austin.” My sister-in-law beamed at me from the front porch of the Adams’ house. The coo of her singsong voice welcomed me and drew me in.
“Day’s nearly half over, Sarah.” I strolled in her direction from the barn to give her a hug, and my nephew barreled toward me at a pace only a three-year-old could keep.
Stopping to squat, I braced myself for the force at which Rand would throw his body at me. His little frame hit my chest, and I wrapped my arms around my only nephew, though he didn’t let me hold him long. The ranch wound him up into a ball of energy that couldn’t be contained.
“What are we doing today, Tin Tin?” His nickname for me would have earned him a black eye had he been fifteen years older, but it was hard not to love a toddler who couldn’t say “Austin.” Not only had it stuck with Rand, Kylie and Kara used it, too. However, I drew the line with other family members, and Charlie had found that out the hard way.
I glanced at Sarah, not sure how long they planned to stay. She gave me nothing. “I don’t know, bud. Are you guys going to be here all day?” As much as I adored my nephew, I didn’t get a lot done with him around. There was far too much going on to have him tagging along today.
“Not long. I just came by to bring Daddy some honey.”
Rand squinted when he peered up at me. The sun was bright overhead, and there wasn’t a cloud in the sky. But over the horizon, billows of smoke rose from the treetops. “We brought bread, too. I helped make it.”
He was a good kid. All of Charlie and Sarah’s kids were amazing. Even at young ages, they helped their mom without complaint. “I bet your papa will love that with fresh honey.”
Rand’s tiny chest puffed out, and he straightened his spine. “I’m his favorite.”
I didn’t know about that. I ruffled his mousy-brown hair and said, “He loves your sisters, too.”
He shrugged as if the twins didn’t matter. “Not as much as me.” Like his dad, Rand had all the confidence in the world, despite his pint-sized stature.
Sarah snickered behind her son, and I glanced up in time to see her smirk before she wiped it away. “Papa loves you all equally. Just like Mama and Daddy.” She didn’t include me in that statement.
I loved the girls. They were sweet as could be, but while Kara’s personality was like Sarah’s, Kylie had the same spunk and spark as Randi had had at her age. They weren’t identical twins, and unfortunately for me, not only did Kara look like her mama, Kylie was the spitting image of her aunt.
“Papa doesn’t love you and Aunt Randi the same. You’re his favorite.” Even spoken through a childish tone, those words struck a chord in me. A wound that had never healed.
Sarah gasped and did her best to get on Rand’s level. When I reached out to help her, she swatted me away and focused on her son. “Why would you say such a thing?” Flabbergasted and embarrassed, her gaze flicked to me, and her cheeks flamed.
The little boy’s eyes filled with tears when he stared at his mama, and they fell when he turned his head to me. “’Cause he made Aunt Randi go away.”
I couldn’t say how often my nieces and nephew heard about their aunt—or heard from her. The only thing I knew for sure was that her name never passed my lips, and she was never mentioned in my presence. Ever.
Sarah hesitated and looked at me. “Oh, no. Rand, sweetie…”
I was already uncomfortable. I certainly couldn’t offer assistance in this.
“That’s not true. Aunt Randi moved to New York.”
He sobbed as he spoke, like they’d once been best friends and he missed seeing her daily. “Papa yelled at her. I heard you tell Daddy that if Papa hadn’t yelled at her, she wouldn’t be gone ’cause she loved Tin Tin. I heard you with my very own ears.” The adamant tone only added to the sound of his frustration.
My heart broke with my nephew’s. Six years hadn’t eliminated the pain, and neither had two thousand miles. The truth was, thinking about her still made me angry, hence the reason no one brought her up when I was within earshot.
Sarah took her son’s hand and moved toward the house. “I’m going to take him inside. I’ll see you at your parents’ on Sunday, right?” It didn’t matter how much time passed, Sarah blamed herself for Randi leaving, an
d she wore that guilt like a noose.
I nodded. I no longer blamed Sarah or Jack. Randi had made a choice, and she continued to make that same decision every day she stayed gone. At this point, it was probably best she didn’t come back. Her abrupt departure had caused an even bigger uproar than the accident. To this day, no one other than Jack knew what was said between him and his daughter that had caused her to pack her bags. In my mind, it didn’t matter. I didn’t care that she left them or Mason Belle or all of Texas.
She’d left me. And that wound would never heal.
“Burin, you coming?” Corey’s question snapped me out of what would have twisted into a downward spiral.
I kicked at the gravel that reminded me of Randi and silently cursed her one last time. “Yeah, man.”
He led two horses by the reins and waited for me outside the barn. When Jack had hired him a few weeks ago, I didn’t think Corey would be able to handle the physical requirements of the job. He was older than most of the ranch hands, yet even in his forties, he worked circles around the rest of the crew.
I took the reins and rounded them over Nugget’s head, stuck my boot in the stirrup, and then hoisted myself into the saddle. I leaned over to pat the horse’s neck and gave him a gentle tap with my heel. I didn’t own him, but he was mine. Jack and I had a silent understanding that he was off-limits to all the other hands. He’d been Randi’s, and I’d taken care of him after she’d left, thinking she’d come back. That horse and I had been together ever since. And as he got older, I wanted to make sure he had a good life.
“Tommy’s already got a crew out in the south pasture.” Corey wasn’t much on idle chitchat.
“Dogs too?”
Corey nodded, although he didn’t glance my way.
We faced a lot of tough days if it didn’t rain or the fires weren’t contained. With close to ten thousand head of cattle and twice as many acres, driving the herd could become our full-time job. I’d been here before. South Texas wasn’t a stranger to drought and fire. But I couldn’t get a read on Corey or the rest of the crew. These guys were either optimistic about the threat not hitting Cross Acres, or they’d given up hope and were only going through the motions.
Wildfires did strange things that ratcheted my anxiety. The grey haze would reach us in the next couple of days, and we’d already started to see ash fall like snow that the wind had carried in. At night, the sky glowed an angry orange and hid the moon. But it was the run of the wildlife that had bothered me, almost as much as their absence. Birds didn’t chirp in the distance; field mice didn’t scurry through the fields. They’d all moved north toward safety, which only left the clip-clop of hooves on the ground and low-flying crop dusters overhead.
I adjusted my baseball cap to block out more of the sun. No matter how many years I’d spent working on farms—my parents’ and now Jack’s—I’d always refused a cowboy hat. I could do the boots and even Wranglers, but I drew the line with plaid shirts and wide-brimmed Stetsons. There wouldn’t be any large belt buckles in my future, either. But on days like today, when the sun was a thousand degrees, and it scorched my neck, I had second thoughts about that decision.
Corey cleared his throat, stealing my attention away from poorly planned outfits and sunburn. “Any chance I might make it to my daughter’s birthday party tomorrow afternoon?”
“I didn’t know you had a daughter. How old is she?” It dawned on me that I knew very little about the man beside me.
“Jessica. She’ll be six.” He oozed pride. “She’s a handful. Smart as a whip.”
I felt like a jackass. I took for granted that I’d grown up here and was well acquainted with the residents. When people moved to Mason Belle—which almost never happened—they didn’t typically stay long. Other than farms, there were very few places in town to offer employment. Most of the ranches were staffed by family or close friends, so outsiders didn’t stand a chance in a town this size.
“Stay home with your girl tomorrow. We’ll make do.” It wasn’t much, but days off in the cattle business were hard to come by. Even on Sundays when we didn’t “work,” the animals still had to be fed and cared for.
“For real?”
I nodded. Jack wouldn’t be happy, and I’d get lectured about the importance of having every hand on deck, but Corey’s family was scared, just like the rest of us. “How’d you end up in Mason Belle, anyway?” It wasn’t even a dot on the state map. The only way people landed here was by getting lost on their way to somewhere else.
He didn’t answer right away. After several minutes, he cleared his throat. “I made some bad choices in Houston. About lost my wife and baby girl. Alexandra gave me an ultimatum: keep doing what I was doing or keep my family.”
“Sounds like you made the right decision.” I respected a man who could admit he’d made mistakes, and I admired anyone who chose family at all costs. It was also the reason I would endure Jack’s moaning.
“You not gonna ask what I did?” He appeared surprised with his mouth slightly parted.
I shook my head. “Nah, figure if you’d wanted to tell me, you would’ve. Long as it doesn’t affect your job, it’s not really any of my business.”
“What about you?”
I hadn’t planned to play twenty questions, yet I had to give him the same respect he’d given me. “Grew up here.”
“You got a wife? Kids?”
It was like God wanted to punish me today with reminders of the past and lost opportunities. “Nope.” I didn’t offer more, and thankfully, Corey didn’t ask.
* * *
Sunday supper was an affair at my parents’ house. It had been since I was a kid, and it would be until my mom physically couldn’t do it anymore. Without fail, she’d cooked for the four of us for years. As we got older, we included friends and girlfriends, and the list of guests had continued to grow. And now, every Sunday after church, Charlie, Sarah, and their three kids, Jack, and myself were regulars at the dinner table. My mom welcomed any ranch hand from their own farm and those from Jack’s who cared to come, as well. In all honesty, she wouldn’t have sent a stranger away. That’s how Mason Belle women were.
On average, there were fifteen people seated at their dining and breakfast tables on any given Sunday. Today, that wasn’t the case. Jack’s truck sat in the driveway, and Sarah’s SUV was behind it. It appeared no one other than family would be joining us. It didn’t surprise me. Most of the men in town currently bounced between their own herds and those of their friends. Each day that passed brought the fires closer, and the town pulled together to help protect each other’s livelihood. Jack and I had been up before the sun, broke off for church and lunch, and we would be back at it in a couple of hours.
I parked off to the side, close to the backyard. As soon as I opened the door, I heard the kids playing behind the house. Their laughter and little voices floated through the air.
Rand had a knack for tormenting his sisters, despite his smaller size and younger age. The girls were fits of constant giggles, while my nephew was three and a half feet of solid boy. “Poopy head.”
I chuckled. His mom would have his hide if she were out back. Rounding the side of the home I’d grown up in, I stopped in my tracks. For once, Kylie and Kara had beaten Rand at his own game. Although, I’d bet my left nut that Kylie had been the one to convince Kara to hold down Rand while she secured him to a tree.
Kylie’s hands were on her hips in a no-nonsense stance, and a toy gun dangled from her finger at her side. “I’m the sheriff now.”
Rand struggled against the rope and tree bark. He grunted something I couldn’t hear.
Kara started to waver. “Maybe we should let him go, Ky.” Her blond curls bounced as she turned her head in search of witnesses. “He’s gonna tell,” she whined.
Kylie made no move toward releasing her prisoner. Kara started to cry. And Rand screamed at the top of his lungs. I needed to be the adult in this situation and break it up, but I wanted to see how it pla
yed out. I couldn’t believe Sarah and Charlie had left the three of them outside unattended. It was a recipe for disaster.
When Kara didn’t get her way and Rand didn’t get parole, she did what any good girl her age would. “I’m telling Daddy.”
Kylie stepped in front of her sister, daring her to take another step. “I’ve got another rope. You wanna be on the other side of that tree?” She narrowed her eyes to ensure Kara understood it was a promise, not an empty threat.
Kara was harps and angels, while Kylie was fire and brimstone. Even at five, Kylie could work a lasso, and Kara didn’t stand a chance. She’d never make it to the house before Kylie would have her hogtied on the ground. I shouldn’t find their antics as amusing as I did. No matter how hard I tried to get upset, watching was far more entertaining than tattling to their parents. And I refused to be the one to discipline them.
I crossed my arms and shifted my feet. In the process, I stepped on a twig that snapped and grabbed their attention.
“Tin Tin.” It was as close to a command as a three-year-old could get, said with a stern tone and a stiff little face. “Tell Ky to let me go.”
Kylie dropped the gun, the lasso, and her attention on Rand in favor of beating Kara to get to me. They swallowed me in little-girl hugs. With one in each arm, I carried them like footballs to the tree their brother was still secured to.
“Untie him.” I tilted my head to indicate who I referred to in case they didn’t realize it was the little boy held hostage against a tree trunk.
Kara was the first to point out she hadn’t done anything wrong. Her angelic features made her easy to believe. With strawberry-blond hair, pale-blue irises, and a kiss of pink on her ivory skin, she looked like a cherub. She had yet to figure out that I had each of them pegged and knew who to blame for what.
Gravel Road Page 4