Chapter 38
Christine
“I miss you.” Wedging the phone between my shoulder and ear, I lean against Skyward’s stall, where I just added fresh bedding to the ground. “When will I see you again?”
The positivity I’ve held on to for the past three weeks is waning. I need a hit of Tagger in my life again. Just a little one will keep me going long enough until he can visit at the end of July.
If I close my eyes, the sound of his breath travels the distance like he’s here by my side again.
The way it would breeze against the back of my neck when he cuddled around me in sleep.
If I let myself go further, I remember how the tips of his fingers pushed into my hips as he took me and the slightest of smile he wore right after while he slept.
“I miss you more than those gorgeous Texas sunsets.”
“That’s saying something because the sky is on fire this evening, and it’s just getting started. I wish you were here to see it.”
“Soon, my love.” His voice is low and comforting like his arms when wrapped around me. “Are you taking care of yourself?” He asks me this often because I once mentioned that no one does and I’m just expected to always be strong.
When he’s here, he makes sure I’m taken care of. When he’s not, it makes me feel loved in his absence. I smile to myself, kicking up a little hay that had fallen when I carried it in earlier. “I’m getting by. How about you? How’s the little guy?”
“Excited to be down there again.”
Beckett makes me smile even more. He’s pure joy, enthusiasm, and raw energy wrapped up in that little frame of his. “A full week this time?” There’s a pause in the conversation that has me adjusting the phone against my ear. “Tagger?”
“I’m here, babe, but I really can’t wait to be there with you.”
The little delays in responses make me wonder if I called at a bad time. “I can let you go if you’re busy.”
“I’m sorry. I have a meeting.”
My brain always shifts to the East Coast time zone when we talk. I know what time it is for him more than my own sometimes. “At eight o’clock at night?”
“My days have been busy, so I’ve taken care of stuff after hours.”
A chorus of crickets have gotten louder, so I plug my other ear. “Sounds like you’re ready to work a ranch. No days off, from sunrise to sunset, and no food delivery, which might be one of the saddest parts.”
“Tell me you ate today, Pris.”
“I ate today.”
“But did you really?”
Honestly, I haven’t been thinking about food much since he’s been gone. Sure, I make dinner with my dad, but it’s nothing special or noteworthy. “I’m about to. That counts, right?”
“I don’t know how you’re fueling yourself, but you need to. That’s hard work you’re doing day in and day out. Why aren’t you eating?”
“I like to stay busy so my mind doesn’t wander as much.”
The pause is long enough for me to walk out the back of the barn to catch the last of the sunset. I don’t fill in the space. I don’t have interesting things going on in my life. I’m just living day-to-day, trying not to focus on the hole left in my heart.
“Babe?” he says, his voice quieter as someone else might hear. “I’ll be there soon. You be ready for me, okay?”
“I’m ready,” I reply, more than ready to see him again.
“I love you.”
“I love you, too.” I tuck the phone in my back pocket and return to my final duties to wrap up for the night. When I walk toward the house, I see my brother over on the pasture’s fence. His eyes are aimed at the sunset, so he doesn’t see me coming.
I have stopped anyway, not sure if I’m ready to approach him. I dust my hands off and shove them in my front pockets. Better to go straight through the pain than linger around the edges. I mosey up next to him, setting my foot on the lower rail and resting my arms on the upper.
The sun dips just below the trees, but there’s still enough to expose the fissures in our relationship. “Visiting twice in a month?” I ask like it’s normal to see Baylor on the ranch. “What brings you by?”
Tilting his head down, he angles it sideways to look at me.
“I’ve been a shitty brother to you, Pris.
” Hearing that name feels wrong from his mouth, which is ironic since he’s the one who dubbed me Pristine to begin with.
I don’t correct him, but moving forward, we need to agree on leaving it for only my boyfriend to say.
“I deserved better.” I can hear Lauralee’s words about giving him space and time to share his truths. I know he has some buried in there. Though it doesn’t mean I can’t still be mad at him for abandoning me.
“You did.” He turns to face me. “Did Tagger talk to you?”
“About?”
“We talked.”
I find relief that their relationship is intact. I know they both need their friendship. “He hasn’t mentioned it, but I’m glad to hear it.”
He nods and looks across the property. As if he has something he wants to get off his chest, he takes a breath, then exhales slowly.
“I’m sorry.” I straighten my back, gobsmacked by those two little words.
I try to close my mouth from catching flies when his eyes find mine again.
“I’m sorry I left you to deal with the mess. ”
“Why did you leave? You didn’t even say goodbye.
You didn’t respond to my texts.” The buildup of years of frustration and hurt floats to the surface now that he’s brought up this topic.
“Did you think the occasional text or photo of you living your best life was serving anything other than what you selfishly needed? You didn’t ask about me? You didn’t care.”
“I cared. I care about you.”
I hate that it’s so easy to make me cry.
This conversation should have been had years ago instead of being repressed.
My emotions were put on hold, waiting for him and Griff to act like I existed.
Although a big part of my heart is waiting for Tagger to fill, hearing those four words seems to be all it takes to start feeling whole again.
When a tear slips down, he pulls me into his arms. Closing my eyes, I realize I never needed much, but shaking off the burden of holding this grudge already has me feeling so much better. I lean back and use the inside of my T-shirt to wipe my face.
We start to walk side by side. The pace is slow, but it gives us time to talk. I say, “I needed to hear that, Baylor.” I glance up. “I care about you and Griffin so much, but it’s felt like I don’t even have brothers anymore.”
“I want to make it up to you.”
I playfully bump into him on purpose, breaking up our stride. “You don’t have to. Just don’t disappear on me twice.”
Pulling me in for a side hug, he says, “I won’t. You’re stuck with me now, kid.”
When we separate again, I ask, “Why did you leave?”
“Truth?”
“Of course.”
“I didn’t get to tell her how much I loved her.”
It’s tempting to roll my eyes as annoyance sets in, but he’s opening up, which is something I’ve wanted since he left. “None of us did. It was a car accident.”
“She had called, but I didn’t answer. She tried over several days.
I was so busy living my big, important life in New York that I couldn’t be bothered.
” I stay quiet, giving him the freedom to lighten his burden as well.
“You look just like her, even the coloring of your hair and your smile . . . I looked at you, and I felt worse.” I’m told this all the time.
It’s a source of pride for me and makes me feel closer to her for some reason.
But I also catch the reactions people try to hide—the pity she died so young, the sympathy for her family, and me carrying her around so prevalently makes them miss her as well.
I’ve learned to embrace the similarities instead of pushing against them.
He shakes his head, and says, “That sounds terrible to admit, but you have to know it wasn’t you, never you, Pris. The guilt was eating me alive, so I avoided it. I avoided comforting you and being there for Dad. Sadness and devastation, that’s what this place had become.”
I can’t argue with him. I’ve never been able to put it into words like that before, but they fit—sad and devastating.
“It’s true. Everything suffered until one day I woke up and knew I had to change it.
I had to be present instead of letting my head be sucked into the memories.
I had to fix the part of the farm Dad was no longer tending.
I used the money from insurance to hire a crew to help me, and then I put my business degree to work as well as learning everything I could to improve the ranch. ”
“You did it. You’re kind of small,” he says, nudging me with his elbow. I pretend to blow over before returning to his side under my own amusement. “But you’re so much stronger than either of your older brothers. You did all of this, Sis.”
I laugh, though I’m not sure I’m entertained. “You guys are reaping the rewards.”
“I can’t speak for Griff, but I want to sign over my share of the ranch to you.”
I stop so fast that I topple a little, then right myself. “What do you mean?”
“Dad set it up so all four of us have equal shares.”
“He did that on purpose.”
“He did that when he thought I would be contributing. I’m not.
I’m only taking. It doesn’t seem fair when you’re out here working day in and day out.
You took an old farm barely above red on the financials and turned it into a multimillion-dollar business.
You’ve done so much for our family but deserve more. ”
“I want all of us to be listed.”
“Tagger said you’d say that.”
The name has me smiling. I shrug because I’m guilty as charged. “He knows me well.”
With his eyes on me, he says, “How about this? You own the majority share and have final say. Instead of twenty-five percent, we’ll cut it in half, and I’ll retain ten.”
I laugh because that makes no sense. “That’s not half. Also, aren’t you a financial adviser?”
“Take the deal, Sis.”
I study his face, his eyes, and his tone. He’s serious. When he holds out his hand, I look at it, and ask, “Are you sure?”
“I’m sure.”