Chapter 28
BECKHAM
There was no concept of time while I held Parker in my arms. In the bath, in bed, on the couch. Wherever she and I were, if we were connected, the world could end and I’d still be lost in her.
But feeling lost wasn’t the way I’d ever describe how she made me feel.
Parker was the sense of home I’d missed on the road, and I’d found it wasn’t rodeo that made me homesick.
It was not being with her that elicited that feeling.
After we slept together, I made a vow to never let that happen again.
One week ago today, Parker and I succumbed to the torture of suppressing our feelings and let each other in. A thirty-ton boulder had been lifted from my shoulders, and now all I carried was the weight of loving her. And soon, that’d include the privilege of loving that baby boy, too.
I’d covered every inch of her body in suds that night, both of us turning to wrinkled prunes while I cherished every second of her.
We continued on with our routines of working, making dinner together most nights, and touching one another every chance we could, but in reality, both of our worlds had changed.
She had an appointment to check on the baby the other day, and everything was as perfect as it could be.
But I still worried. I kept an eye on her at the shop.
Made sure she wasn’t balancing on step stools or lifting heavy boxes.
While Parker was sometimes stubborn and demanded to do things on her own—like bear the weight of this child by herself—she was letting me fill the gaps with little to no complaints.
That also might have been in part due to the things I made her promise while my tongue was lapping between her legs.
I emerged from the hallway after taking a long, cold shower, talking myself into leaving her for an afternoon. I did this every other Sunday, so nothing was really different other than the fact that I wanted to cuddle up next to her and binge-watch Twilight for the hundredth time.
The sound of my keys clanging together had her neck twisting so she could look over the back of the couch at me.
“I’m going out,” I told her. “I’ll be back in a few hours if you need anything.”
She stared at me, so many thoughts flitting behind those eyes. When I finally moved to grab my wallet, she spoke up.
“Can I go with?”
The question had me pausing with my hand poised over my wallet.
I braced my palms on the counter, staring at an old chip in the laminate countertop.
I hadn’t expected her to ask, which was stupid of me.
Of course, Parker would want to know what I was up to.
We were more than roommates with a past now.
Titles weren’t established, but secrets were secrets, and I wouldn’t have them between us.
“Sure.”
Less than fifteen minutes later, she was dressed and in the passenger seat of my truck. She’d eyed the casserole dish and the container beside it multiple times, but hadn’t asked any questions.
As I drove, the knowledge of her curiosity had my thumbs dragging on the leather of the steering wheel. Finally, I said, “It’s shepherd’s pie.”
Her brows rose in a mannerism mimicking a nod, but still she stayed silent.
“And those are mashed potatoes,” I stated, nudging my head in the direction of the Tupperware.
More seconds of silence passed, and it felt like I might crawl out of my skin. It wasn’t Parker creating that feeling, though. It was more so my nerves itching at me from the inside out.
Parker’s hands were folded neatly on her lap, her entire body barely moving, like she thought I was a foal on the verge of bolting. “And they’re for…?”
“A friend.” It was all I could say right now without causing further confusion. The sad truth was, I had a lot of sad shit to tell her.
She lowered her chin in a slow, drawn-out nod. “And where are we going?”
“The ranch.”
“Is this friend at the ranch?”
“No.” My teeth dug into my bottom lip as I imagined her brain flashing warning signals: confusion, no straight answers, ominous. “I promise I’ll explain.”
She set a comforting hand on my thigh, and the tension physically seeped out of me. “I know.”
I took the long way to the ranch, potholes and uneven gravel causing her to steady the casserole dish a time or two. I felt bad, but I needed the time to get my nerves in check. The last thing I needed was to cry on her again.
The ranch was silent as we pulled up, a blessing, given my family knew I visited most Sundays to spend some time in the field.
Parker couldn’t ride while pregnant, so when I saw Bucky at the gates, relief flooded me.
At least I wouldn’t be taking her on a few-mile-long hike across the pasture searching for him.
She unbuckled, leaving the casserole and hopping out. I did the same, and before I could even loosen my fist, she weaved her fingers through mine, clasping my hand tight.
She was so in tune with me, it nearly made my heart hurt.
Hand in hand, I led her toward the pasture, opening the gate to let her through. Like he knew the routine we’d gotten into, Bucky headed over to us, his ears forward, head low, and tail swishing. He let out a long snort, nostrils flaring with the act.
I placed a palm on his forehead as he stopped before us, his eyes closing slightly as I rubbed him. “Hey, Buck.”
His head swiveled to Parker, eyes on her. With a small smile, she itched his jaw.
“Up for a walk?” I asked her.
She nodded.
Bucky walked beside us as we went. I typically brought treats with me once I learned he’d do anything for them, but I’d run out on my last visit. He didn’t seem disappointed, though, as he sniffed near my pocket and realized they were empty. He simply matched our pace, content to be in our company.
We crested the small hill, the mid-December sunset casting a warm glow over the yellow grass. The sun set so early this time of year, I’d had to start coming before dinner rather than after. But neither of us minded. Bucky loved a good pre-dinner treat.
I tugged off my jacket and laid it over the grass, thankful for my brown thermal keeping in my body heat.
With my hand still in hers, I helped Parker to sit on my coat.
I took the spot next to her, half of my ass pressed into the dewy grass.
On the bright side, at least there wasn’t a foot of snow yet.
Bucky knew exactly what to do, grazing on the grass beside us.
“This is Bucky,” I started, eyes on him because if I looked at Parker while I told her this, I’d surely lose it.
“He was the horse me and my friend learned to ride broncs on. He was a crazy fucker in his youth, but he always took care not to get out of hand after doing his job, ya know? Once our asses hit the ground, he was done. Calm as can be, like you’d never have expected that he’d just gone haywire moments before. ”
Parker leaned her head on my shoulder, both her hands wrapping around my own where it was slung between her knees.
“Because of that, he taught a lot of kids. While doing the program, I became really good friends with this one guy. Despite having been acquaintances with a lot of people in high school, I had quite the opposite experience in bronc-riding school. A lot of the guys were dicks, just doing it to get the attention of buckle bunnies, so Garrett and I became really close. We were both there for the same reason: to find ourselves and test our limits.” I plucked a few pieces of grass, spinning them between my thumb and forefinger.
“I’m taller than your average bronc rider, so I got made fun of a lot.
They’d say I wasn’t cut out for it, but Garrett believed in me.
He did some ranch saddle bronc riding with me to help me feel comfortable. Less like an outcast.
“Fast forward, we stuck together through the whole thing as best we could. Got hotel rooms together, all that stuff. We even bought a camper at one point, thinking it’d be easier to stay in that in between events.
” I let out a breathy laugh at the memory.
“Had to sell it after he broke the damn plumbing, though.”
Parker’s cheek lifted against my shoulder.
I swallowed, preparing myself for the rest.
“Garrett was too good. He gave up so much for everyone. Bought homeless people burgers on our trips. Hell, he even bought their dogs food when they had ‘em. He didn’t know it, but he was a big influence on me, and I—” My voice broke and I swallowed again, though this time, it was harder due to the rock forming in my throat. “I owe him so much of me.”
Parker remained still, thumbs running over my skin.
“He wanted me to come home with him one weekend to see his mom. She was going to make his favorite. Shepherd’s pie.”
I paused. Breathed in for eight seconds. Out for many more.
“I told him I would. But right before we were supposed to leave, I got offered to do an event in Billings. I couldn’t pass it up, not for the prize money they were offering.
I told him I couldn’t make it home with him, but that I’d come next time.
Garrett being the man that he was, he didn’t blink an eye. He wanted so much good for me, and I—”
I choked again, rolling my lips together and blinking away the inevitable tears.
“He left that night. It was a Friday. There was no ice on the roads, no bad weather. He was supposed to make it home.” My exhale was shaky. “He never did. A drunk driver hit his truck. Slammed him right into a tree.” I tried to swallow again, but my throat was too thick. “He was dead on impact.”
Parker’s strokes didn’t falter, but I felt her melt further into me as my hurt spread from my body to hers.
“There was no salvaging his truck. It was so mutilated, the police guessed the other driver was going at least one twenty, if not more. Somehow, though, that longhorn skull in my living room survived. He’d had them on the grille of his truck, and since the driver hit him from the side, they were barely scratched. ”
One of Parker’s hands slid up my arm to my bicep, squeezing me there. “I’m so sorry, Beckham.”
I shook my head. “I should’ve been there.”
“Beck…”
“If I had gone like I’d told him I would, maybe he would have left five minutes later and missed that driver. Maybe he would’ve been alive today, eating that shepherd’s pie with his mother and laughing and reminiscing on all the times he bruised his tailbone.”
I shifted to pull out my wallet, opening it and sliding out a worn Polaroid. “This was the two of us, three weeks before his accident. We’d gone out on a lake up in Montana for Memorial Day weekend.”
Parker delicately took the photo, her other hand releasing my bicep to swipe at her cheek.
As she studied the last photo of my best friend, I slid out the only other photo I kept in my wallet.
When her gaze moved to it, she seemed to stop breathing.
It was so worn from years of being stored and touched, the creases had turned into thick strips of white.
Still, though, she could tell it was her.
“The night we went to the drive-ins in your truck,” she whispered.
“We brought every snack from my mom’s pantry.”
A wet, heavy rush of breath left her. A sad laugh. “Even your dad’s bland unsalted almonds.”
“I had to buy him six containers just to make up for the one we threw away.”
The memory lightened the mood, but not for long.
Parker looked at me, the orange sun reflecting in the tears clinging to her lash line. “If you focus on what could have been, you’ll never heal from what happened.”
“I know.” But my mind couldn’t help but dwell on it. With so much guilt on my conscience, it felt like I owed it to Garrett to imagine that unreachable future for him.
“He’s watching over you in little ways. With Bucky. With me.” Her hand, holding that memory of Garrett in her fingers, rested on her stomach. “With everything.”
With the Polaroid of her in my hand, I placed my palm over hers.
“Oh, I know he is. Garrett couldn’t let me live without him.
” He wasn’t physically here, but he still showed up in the wind.
In the way Bucky never left me alone when I visited.
When dawn shone rays of light through my curtained window.
When I felt like hope was futile, and blades of grass would brush my skin and reassure me I was alive and well.
I was down for the count when I got the phone call with the news of Garrett’s accident.
Even worse for wear when I heard about Parker’s father’s passing.
But no matter what, that flicker of hope remained an ember inside of me, never once letting the storms put out its light.
I could say that was because of me. That I fought the mental battle of losing my best friend and won.
But there was no mistaking that Parker had taught me to persevere, even when all of life was against me.
She’d grown up in a not-so-perfect house with a struggling family, finding salvation on my parents’ ranch on the days she felt the most hopeless.
So that’s what I did. I sat with Bucky on the days I lost myself to the emptiness of my mind. I talked to him, repeated myself over and over about how it was my fault Garrett passed. That it was my desire to be more than I was that took me away from Parker.
And it all worked out in the end.
I got the girl. And I still have my best friend. Maybe not sitting next to me, cracking jokes and giving me shit. But he lived on in the land. In Bucky, and in me.
In the memories and that longhorn skull in my living room.
In the Polaroid in my wallet.
In my heart.
“I have one more place I want to take you.”
Parker looked at me like I hung the moon. Little did she know, she did that all on her own.
“Anywhere.”