21 | Startin over
CLEMENTINE
Tessa blinks at me, silent.
I drag my finger along the rim of my teacup, grounding myself. “It should’ve been something that brought us together, both losing a parent. But instead I ran off.”
Tessa shifts in her seat. “I reckon you didn’t have much of a choice,” she finally mumbles.
“I didn’t,” I admit. “But I still wasn’t here when you needed me. And I guess Sawyer was.”
Her face hardens. “Look, if—”
“It’s not a dig,” I cut in quickly. “He was here when you needed somebody.” The words stick in my throat, thick and heavy, because they’re true, and because they still hurt.
Tessa stares down at her cup. “He was.”
Silence presses down on us like the electricity in the air before a storm.
“We shouldn’t have done what we did,” she whispers. “It was all kinds of wrong, sneakin’ around behind your back.”
I finally meet her eyes. “Yeah,” I agree, my voice thick. “You could’ve at least told me you had feelings for him.”
She sighs, rubbing her forehead. “Truth is, I didn’t even realize how much I liked him until we… you know…”
“Mhm,” I hum, deadpan. “I know.”
The shift in her posture is instant—shoulders square, chin high, her armor sliding back into place. “Well, you were the one who—”
“Let’s not do this, Tess,” I plead, reaching for her hand. My fingers brush hers and something in my chest twists—familiar, almost comforting, but still jagged around the edges. “We were finally gettin’ somewhere.”
She freezes, then lets her guard slip. “How long have you loved Colton for?”
“Forever.” The word spills out before I can stop it, like it’s been waiting years to finally be spoken.
Tessa nods, eyes softening. “Yeah. I figured.”
We both let out a sigh, then laugh quietly at the way it happens in unison.
“I miss you, Tess.” I squeeze her hand tighter. “It’s not the same without you. I’ve been struggling all this time.”
She squeezes back, a wry smile tugging her lips. “Oh, come on now. Don’t act like them fancy city friends of yours ain’t everything you ever wanted.”
I half-smile. “They’re great, but they’re not you.”
She pops a cookie in her mouth, chewing slow. “Bet you could stitch together a handful of each of their quirks and piece yourself together a patchwork version of me.”
I tilt my head. “It’s just one, actually—they’re my roommate.”
Tessa nods slowly. “Got it. Truth is, I never even made another real friend after you. It’s just been Sawyer and me. Even Savannah keeps it all business when she’s around.”
I can’t help but appreciate my cousin’s quiet loyalty, but I don’t let it show. “I’m sorry.”
She rakes a hand through her hair, then looks me dead in the eye. “I’m sorry too, Clem. For everything.”
I pour us both more tea. “You and Sawyer are good for each other. I’m not just saying that—I see how you look at each other. We never had that kind of love in our eyes.”
Tessa sips carefully, then sets the cup down. “You’ve always had it when you looked at my brother.”
I press my palms to my eyes, heat rushing through me. I’ve got no clue what to say to that.
“He’s had it with you too. Y’all oughta quit torturin’ yourselves and get together already. I guess it wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world, havin’ you as a sister-in-law.”
I smile, shaky, but it falters quickly.
Before I can answer, Tessa stands. “I’m gonna leave you to stew on that alone. We’ve done enough makin’ up for Mama to let me off the hook. No offense, but I’ve got things to do.”
I catch her arm. “I’m glad we talked, Tess.”
“Yeah, yeah,” she mutters, rolling her eyes. But she squeezes my shoulder as she passes. “We ain’t at huggin’ it out yet. Gotta save somethin’ for when you decide to move back here.”
She pushes through the screen door without a backward glance. “We talked it out, Mama! I gotta head into town. You just cost yourself all your visitin’ time with me.”
“I’ll survive, baby girl.” Mama appears in the doorway, eyes scanning me. “Did the claws come out, sugar?”
I shake my head. “We kept it civil, Mama.”
“Good,” Mama drawls. “Ain’t got time to mop up blood. Colton, honey, come fetch your girl!”
Colton saunters in, hat in hand, that lazy smile tugging at his mouth. He holds out his arm. “You still comin’ with me, or did my little sister scare you off for good?”
I walk to him, letting him loop his arm around my waist. “I’ve seen worse. Let’s go.”
----
“I just gotta make a quick stop, Tiny.” Colton throws the truck in park and hops out, rounding to the back. He hauls two feed sacks free, swinging one over his shoulder and dangling the other from his forearm, muscles rippling under his shirt.
I lean out the window, trying not to drool. “What are we doin’ here?”
“Just some business I gotta handle. You can wait in the truck or go check out the sheep. I reckon there should be some newborn lambs out there—that’s why I brought you.”
I’m out of the truck before he’s finished talking. “I’ll be with the babies, obviously.”
I head for the pasture while Colt disappears toward the house. The flock is clustered in the middle of the field, a woolly cloud against the green. For a while, I just watch the lambs totter around, drinking from their mamas.
Then I hear a sound to my right.
One ewe stands off by herself near the old shed, restless, pawing the dirt, dropping to her side and heaving back up again.
Something about it makes my stomach tighten.
I hop the fence and edge closer, slowly, trying not to spook her.
Her sides ripple with contractions. She drops again, legs kicking, a low sound catching in her throat.
I glance at her hind side, and my stomach drops.
Blood. A lot of it.
It hits me all at once what I’m seeing—what I might be seeing—and I freeze.
She’s trying to give birth. And she’s struggling.
“Colt?” I call out, half-hoping he’ll come striding back, but the house is too far.
I fumble for my phone, thumb hovering useless—I don’t even have his number. My chest tightens. I glance between the ewe and the house in the distance, measuring the time it’d take to run for him. I fear she doesn’t have that long.
Another contraction rips through her. Two tiny hooves appear, just barely, and then stop. Relief surges—they’re forward, I think that’s a good thing—but they don’t move an inch more. The ewe bleats, high-pitched and weak.
I dial Mama’s landline. She answers on the second ring. “Diana McGraw.”
“Mama? It’s Clementine. We’re on a ranch somewhere—there’s a sheep trying to give birth, but I think she needs help. Colton’s inside, I don’t have his number, and—”
“I’ll call him, baby. Does he know where you are?”
“Yeah. Please tell him to hurry!”
“Alright, darlin’. If you see hooves, just pull the lamb out. It can take it.” She hangs up.
I crouch beside the ewe, knees sinking into grass. “Alright, girl,” I whisper, voice shaking. “Our guy is coming soon, okay? You just hang on a little longer.” I glance toward the house, willing Colt’s shape to appear.
Nothing.
The ewe lets out another panicked cry. Her eyes roll, wild with terror.
Panic claws at my throat. I strip off the blouse tied at my waist, wrapping it around the slick hooves. “Come on, baby,” I murmur, pulling in rhythm with her contractions. “Work with me here.”
She strains, body heaving. I pull gently, scared to hurt the lamb.
I pant, heartbeat hammering in my ears. In my head I see that stillborn calf again—cloudy eyes, limp body, the sound of its mama mourning.
“No,” I whisper fiercely, shaking my head. “We’re not going there.”
The ewe convulses again, pouring everything into one last push. I brace and pull, and slowly—inch by stubborn inch—the lamb slides free, slick and limp in my hands.
My heart stops.
Then the chest twitches, and there’s a sputtering cough.
“Oh, thank God.” My voice breaks as I clear the snout, rubbing its sides with my blouse until another wet gasp rattles out. The lamb squirms weakly, lets out the tiniest bleat.
Tears prick my eyes, blurring my vision. Relief takes over, drowning out the adrenaline.
Shaky laughter bubbles out of me. “You’re alright. You’re alright.”
I carefully lift the lamb and place it by its mother’s face, and the ewe begins licking it immediately. I’m so caught up in watching them together, heart pounding with something intoxicating, that I don’t even hear Colton run up to the fence behind me.
“This is turning into a pattern, Tiny,” he says as he vaults the fence and strides up to me. “Are you okay?”
I look up at him from where I’m sitting, eyes wide and glittering with excitement. “There’s something I need to do.”
----
Oooh, what do we think she needs to do? Theories? ??