Total pages in book: 121
Estimated words: 113812 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 569(@200wpm)___ 455(@250wpm)___ 379(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 113812 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 569(@200wpm)___ 455(@250wpm)___ 379(@300wpm)
I take off past the cornfields and gallop past the side of the equipment barn. I used to know the usual spots by heart, but things have changed. Trees have grown. Fences rearranged. But the trails remain from years before when we wore a path through the tall grasses.
The sun hangs low in the sky, and the clouds rolling in make me think a storm is coming. I ride until I spy her small frame sitting in a patch of wildflowers. I slow the horse and dismount, walking the rest of the way with the reins in my hand.
She looks up with her hair as wild as the flowers and cascading freely over her shoulders. Beautiful, even more so as if that was possible.
Considering the circumstances, I’m not sure if I can expect a smile or a frown. She gifts me with an eye roll and a gentle laugh that still manages to cover the distance. “Howdy, stranger.” The usual strength in her tone is missing, which is concerning.
“Howdy, good-looking.” Her cheeks still pink for me, and her smile blooms like the wildflowers surrounding her. Her white dress makes her look like an angel next to the red and yellow flowers, and the purples that bring out the blue in her eyes.
Her brown boots are scuffed to high heaven, but somehow, they work with it. Everything works on her.
Looking at the headstone next to her, I read the name of her mother and years of her life. Each of her children’s names are lined up at the bottom just under her father’s. No flowers are needed because they surround her.
Her gaze has fallen to a flower in her hands, a petal being slowly plucked from around the stem. I kneel with Nightfall at my back and only a few feet in front of me keeping me from her. “I’m sorry, Pris.” She looks up at me, her smile almost vanished. The corners of her eyes are filled with unfallen tears, and she still manages to be the most stunning creature I’ve ever seen. “I should have been here for you and your family. I should have come back for the funeral.” I glance at the carved granite that was probably quarried from the property somewhere. “I . . .” Out of excuses, I lower my head as shame comes over me.
“Beckett was young, probably barely one. No one expected you to drop your responsibilities to comfort us.”
No one did. I never heard a peep about it. Not from Baylor. He was aware of my situation, but he still had a right to expect me to be here for him. Nothing from Mr. Greene, not from the pastor, or even my family. Not even Pris. Even now, she’s making excuses for me. “She was like a mother to me.”
“I used to tell my mom I couldn’t wait to leave this place. I wanted to leave my boots in the closet and my hat on the hook, hide my raggedy work clothes and pretend I was from somewhere else.” A tear falls, and she drops her head in her hands. “I was so mean at seventeen.”
“You were never mean.” I stand, noticing she doesn’t have a horse out here. I settle the reins on him and let Nightfall go where he pleases. He’ll return to the barn sooner or later. “You were a teen, though, and she’d gone through the same stage with two others at that point. We say shit we don’t mean. Trust me, I was a complete asshole to my parents.” That makes her smile. Figures. “Your mom was wise enough to love you through it.”
“The last time I saw her was at my college graduation. She told me how proud she was.” She takes a shaky breath. “And then she told me to follow my heart wherever it leads.” I pat the horse before going to the grass and sitting next to her.
The long pause has me tilting to catch her eyes, but she’s closed them. I wrap my arm around her and pull her to me. With her head on my shoulder and her wet cheek against my shirt, she whispers, “I had a job in Denver and an apartment downtown. I was living the high life. I was even dating a guy . . .” I shouldn’t have tensed. I’m not surprised. Any guy would be lucky to have her. “Then I got the call.”
Nothing more needs to be said.
I got the call from Baylor in the middle of the night. Anna told him to call back in the morning. A lot went wrong around that time. And he was already on a plane the following morning. I didn’t get the news until a few days later and couldn’t make it in time.
Pris doesn’t need excuses. She needs answers, and no one can give those to her.