46. Clara
CLARA
Cole’s riding tonight at a charity event in the next town over, Sunshine.
And I know it’s for a good cause, but I’ve felt sick to my stomach all day.
I told him that I’d support him no matter what, and I will, but it doesn’t make me feel any better about the thought of him getting on the back of a literal raging bull.
Bull riding is dangerous no matter what.
I didn’t do myself any favors by researching the sport, because now that I know men have died in the arena, others have become paralyzed, blinded, permanently brain damaged, it only increases the anxiety racing through me.
The last thing I want is for Cole to be injured or worse, but I know that he loves it.
And he’s good at it. And it’s his dream.
And I love him, so I need to stand by him.
But tonight feels… different.
All day there’s been this lingering hint of foreboding dread hanging in the air, and I can’t seem to shake it.
And, standing here in front of the mirror, smoothing my hands down over my sundress, despite my well-versed smile, I have a really bad feeling about tonight that’s caused a painful knot to wedge itself in the pit of my belly.
Securing my earrings, I walk out of the bedroom. “Come on you guys,” I call out to wherever the kids are in the cabin. “We need to get going.”
“I’m ready,” Tommy calls back.
When I walk into the small living room, I stop in my tracks, finding him ready and waiting on the sofa looking every bit the junior cowboy in his blue jeans and Cole Dawson T-shirt, boots and a hat.
“Look at you, handsome.” I can’t help but smile, tucking my hair behind my ears. “Where’s your sister?”
“On the swing.” Tommy rolls his eyes indulgently.
I shake my head with a light laugh, because I really don’t know how she’s going to handle going back to Cole’s house now that weather has calmed down and there’s no immediate tornado threat.
She’s already pleaded him to install a porch swing like we have here, which, of course, Cole agreed to, because that little girl has him wrapped around her pinkie.
I grab my purse and slide my socked feet into the cowboy boots Mama Joy gave me, and nod for Tommy to follow as I walk out onto the front porch.
“C’mon, Bil.” I glance over at her where she’s relaxed back on the porch swing like she hasn’t a care in the world.
“We gotta get go—” I’m stopped dead, my eyebrows drawing together when I look down to the stuffed dog tucked in beside her. Narrowing my eyes, a prickly heat creeps up over my chest, my neck, onto my cheeks. “Is that… Morris?”
Billie looks from me, to the black and white doggy and back again, nodding, her smile sheepish as she clutches the dog to her chest.
My heart pounds in my ears, the thud of my pulse drowning out everything else.
I blink tight, trying to rack my brain, swallowing hard around the lump of trepidation that sits like a rock in my throat.
“Did you… f-find him?” I ask hopefully because as far as I’m aware that dog was left back in West Virginia, on the bathroom floor the morning we ran away. “In the… the car?”
Billie’s small shoulders cower in on themselves, and she buries her face into the dog’s soft ears, her big blue eyes peering up as she slowly shakes her head.
My stomach bottoms out at the same time as my heart seems to come to a stop, the acidic taste of bile burning my throat.
I’m forced to grip onto the railing, my knees buckling with the weight of the realization as it crashes over me, and I find myself looking out at the nothingness surrounding the cabin, searching quickly.
“Billie?” I say as calmly as I can manage. “W-where did Morris come from?”
She looks at me like she doesn’t want to tell me, but then, her small voice confirms my biggest fear. “Daddy.”
Her whispered word knocks the wind out of me and my brain grows foggy, my vision tunneling as darkness begins to swallow me. I shake my head because surely she’s mistaken, and I glance at Tommy who looks just as shocked and terrified as I’m sure I do right now.
Placing a hand over my chest, my heart slams against my sternum, hard and fast. But I know it’s up to me to stay cool, not to give anything away. Taking a step closer to the swing, I stare at the dog like it’s some sort of ticking timebomb that might go off with one wrong move.
“When—” My words fail me and I’m forced to clear my throat. “When did you… When did Daddy bring you Morris?” Tears bite the backs of my eyes and my voice wavers, but I keep my chin held high, swallowing my emotion.
“At school.” Billie clutches the dog so tight, like she’s terrified I’m about to take it from her. “On the playground.”
My stomach roils and I place a hand over it, willing it to stop. “When, baby?”
Billie looks from me to Tommy, to Morris and back again, her eyes so full of heartbreaking fear, like she’s so scared she’s in trouble.
“It’s okay, baby.” I assure her, forcing a smile I know doesn’t meet the tears brimming my eyes. “You can tell me.”
“Yesterday.”
Something clamps hard around my chest like a vise, trying to squeeze the life out of me.
“Why didn’t you tell me, sweetie?” I ask, hoping I sound light instead of fraught with panic like I am.
Billie looks down at Morris again, hesitating before she meets my eyes. “Because he said if… if I told you… you might—” Her little face crumples, cheeks reddening. Squeezing her eyes closed, tears slip out as she chokes on a sob, “You might go to heaven!”
“Oh my god,” I whisper under my breath, my own tears winning the battle as I rush to comfort my girl. Wrapping my arms around Billie I pull her close, shushing her as she cries against my chest.
“M-mom?”
I turn, finding Tommy gaping at me, a knowing look in his eyes, like he knows exactly what we need to do, what we’re going to have to do, what neither of us wants to do.
Holding Billie, I sniffle back my hiccupping sob and nod just once. And that’s all he needs from me before he turns and runs back inside the cabin to get a start on packing up our lives once again.