Twenty-seven
TWENTY-SEVEN
Bea
I made a bleh sound as my fingers stuck together. How did I manage to get molasses all over the place? A plastic jar of the sticky stuff was on hand in the barn to assist in forcing medicine down a horse’s throat. The animals were coo-coo for the dark, liquid sugar.
I searched the space for something to wipe my hands on. I found a navy blue bandana on the counter by the Chevy truck keys. I smeared my fingers against it then swiped the fabric over the drops on the wooden table top. When I was done, I folded the sticky inside the fabric and left it on the table.
Tag came from the main corridor, into the right hall. “You got it?”
“Got it!” I held up the syringe of medicine for Twinkle Toes. A paste of powder, water, and molasses. I’d watched Tag do this four times now and did it myself this morning. It went fine…besides the molasses everywhere.
He took it with a smile. “You wanna give it to her?”
“That’s okay. I’ll let you do it.”
“Alright. Let’s go.” He dropped the syringe and a few other medicines into a bucket. Then he grabbed the Chevy keys and the bandana, shoving them into his back pocket .
I opened my mouth to tell him that bandana was disgusting, but he got a call and ended up on the phone for fifteen minutes talking with Penny about Tillie and a few of the horses who had worms.
And I forgot all about the molasses.
Finally, we ended up in pasture four. Two of the horses in this enclosure—Windy Foot and Ginseng—were big huge teddy bears and trotted over to us. A smile pulled into my cheeks because I loved watching Tag’s horses greet him. They went to him like a friend.
And then went straight for the back of his pants.
That’s when I remembered the molasses. I clapped a hand over my mouth to stifle an immediate fit of laughter. Didn’t say a word because this I had to see.
Windy’s lips grabbed at the back of Tag’s shirt. “Whoa! What’re you doin’?” Tag pushed the huge head back.
Then Ginseng sniffed up and down his back, nuzzling the waistline of his jeans.
Tag muttered, “Move. It’s Twinkle we need, not you.”
Tag took a few steps away and both horses followed him, hot on his heels. Ginseng and Windy found the source of the smell and nibbled at the back of his jeans. He laughed then cussed, shoving Ginseng’s head and turning his backside away from them. “What the hell’s wrong with y’all?”
They were hounds on a trail.
I bent forward, silently howling into my palm as Tag laughed and swatted at their heads. His voice flew out with his laughter. “What the—back up!”
He brushed his hands down his shirt and the front of his jeans. I wheezed in a breath.
“What is wrong with them?” His pitch rose.
I couldn’t breathe. Let alone help him hypothesize. Ginseng and Windy were puffing with excitement and matching his speed, delighted with the new game.
His gaze bounced to me, gray eyes dancing and crazed. “Bea! Is there something on me?!”
“The…” I gasped .
“What?!” He swiped his hands down his butt and turned to look over his shoulder.
“The bandana.”
Right then, Ginseng caught the corner of navy blue and tugged it out of Tag’s pocket. She triumphantly trotted away to feast on her scrap of inedible fabric. Cracking up, Tag jogged after her. “Give that back!” He grabbed it out of her mouth and a loud ripping sound filled the air since Ginseng was loath to give it up.
Tears wet my cheeks.
Tag looked confused until he sniffed it. He rolled his eyes toward me, strode to the fence, and chucked the bandana into the grass on the other side. A grin warred with a frown on his face. “Did you do that on purpose ?”
I sucked a breath. “I swear I didn’t.”
“ Sure you didn’t.”
Windy and Ginseng, pathetically disappointed by the game’s abrupt end, hung their heads over the fence where the bandana lay out of reach.
“I really didn’t.” I took a steadying breath and wiped under my eyes, speaking through my giggles. “I wish—I would’ve thought of it though, because that—was brilliant.”
He deadpanned at me, but his cheek rolled as he worked his jaw against a smile. His eyes narrowed, and the heat in my blood rose a few degrees. His gray gaze was alive—a fiery challenge. “Don’t start stuff with me.”
“Why on earth not?” I lifted my chin in defiance. “That made my entire day.”
He stepped closer and gazed down into my eyes. His voice rumbled. “Because I’ll get you back.”
“I’m sorry—was that a threat ?”
“Yes, ma’am, it was a threat.”
Yes ma’am?
A wave of girlish giddiness swept through my torso. Momentarily, I forgot to inhale. “Well, bring it on. You’ll learn just how deep my stubborn runs.”
He cracked, a grin winning out. “Watch your back then.”
The next morning, I mixed potions and pastes for the horses again, dropping the concoctions into the blue bucket. No messes this time.
Waiting for Tag, I hopped up to sit on the work table and stifled a yawn. Where did I leave my coffee cup? It was hours old, but I craved a drop or two more of caffeine.
It was Wednesday already—time was flying. I was falling in love with ranch work, but I had to admit, I was exhausted. More than usual.
I didn’t sleep well last night. Peter’s appointment was at 8:45 a.m. this morning, and I spent a lot of time last night fretting about it. Despite his multiple follow up calls, he hadn’t gotten any results on the MRI. I was worried sick. Worry was pointless, I knew that. But knowledge didn’t always quell fear.
Surely, they learned something at the appointment.
It was ten thirty now, and I hadn’t heard from him.
Tag finished dumping the wheelbarrow and joined me at the table. “Ready?”
My phone rang. I looked up into Tag’s eyes. “It’s Peter.”
Tag froze. He knew I was waiting for this call. Backing toward the corridor, he whispered. “Alright, I’ll be?—”
“Stay.” I patted a spot on the table beside me and swiped up on the call. “Peter, hey!”
“Hey, Beatles.”
“How’d it go?” My heart clenched, almost quivered. Tag quietly, hesitantly, sat next to me.
“Well, we don’t have a ton of answers, but we did get good news.” A smile laced his tone. “The MRI showed there’s no brain tumor anywhere to be found.”
My body slacked forward, the phone falling away from my ear a couple inches. Tears of relief sprang into my eyes and trickled down my cheeks, immediate and hot from the waiting. I placed a hand over my brow and eyes, letting them flow.
Tag’s hand came to the back of my shoulder. His touch was light, polite, and maybe even a little awkward. But I relished in the soft squeeze of encouragement, the whisper-like patting.
“You there, Bea?”
I huffed a breath, pulling my shoulders up and back. “Sorry—I’m bawling my eyes out. Thank God, Peter, thank God.”
His voice shook, too. “I know. We’re counting our blessings right now. You're the first person I called.”
“Is Sarah okay?”
“She’s wonderful. She’s sitting right next to me.” I heard him peck her with a kiss. “No tumor is the best thing we could’ve heard today. We are about to celebrate and get some brunch.”
“I’m so relieved.”
“Us, too.”
“Did the doctor tell you why you had a seizure though? Any ideas?”
“Unfortunately, there’s not a visible reason at this point. It’s going to be a whole process trying to figure it out.”
“Okay.” Tag’s hand gently rubbed my shoulder.
“I’m going to let you go. I need to call Mom and type out a family group text still. After that, I'm turning my phone off. I’ve been so stressed recently and need to spend this morning focusing on my almost-bride.”
Sarah said something in the background. Peter laughed—man, I loved his laugh—and he must’ve covered the mouthpiece on the phone. He said a few words in a playful, scolding tone. Yes, he wanted to hang up with his sister. Couldn’t blame the guy.
He chuckled again. “Sorry, Bea.”
“You’re good. Have a fantastic morning. Buy that woman a mimosa.”
“Will do. Hey, call me when you’re free and tell me how things are going in Texas. I haven’t gotten the update. I’ve been…kind of stuck in my own world.”
“Understandably stuck. I’ll call. Love you.”
“Love you, too.”
Sarah and Peter were laughing as he disconnected.
I held the phone against my chest and allowed my eyes to flutter closed. A tear followed my cheek to my chin, where a gentle knuckle brushed it off. I opened my eyes to see Tag looking down at me, his brow furrowed. “It sounded like good news.”
I choked out. “It was.”
His chest collapsed in relief, too. He said nothing but snaked his arm around my upper back and pulled. My head hit his shoulder, and we sat there for a few long moments as I sniffled myself together.
His hand gently rubbed up and down my upper arm. He was being so tender, so sweet. I wanted to cry all over again simply out of appreciation. Tag had always been the best listening ear and support when it came to Peter.
Maybe because he understood what it felt like to worry over a brother you loved.
He whispered, “You alright?”
“More than alright. I’m great. I've been so afraid.”
He squeezed. “I know.”
“It’s funny. I was tired four minutes ago, but now I feel like I could run a mile.”
“Your body’s castin’ off that fear.”
“It feels amazing.”
“Good.”
I wanted to linger there. His shoulder was a perfect fit for me, perfect height. He smelled so good. The temptation to snuggle in and let him hold me…
But he dropped his arm, and I dutifully took that as the signal to stop leaning on him.
I looked up into a soft expression. His eyes bounced between mine, studying me, checking in. “Do you wanna take a little time this mornin’? You look tired.”
“No.” I shook my head. “I want to help.”
“I’ll be fine if you sleep for a while.”
“I know you will, but I don’t want to sleep. I want to be with you.” The words had slipped out before I truly meant to say them. I almost cringed, but when the tiny confession hit my ears, it sounded right. Really right. I loved being with Tag .
He averted his eyes, his gaze roaming aimlessly around the barn hallway for a couple seconds.
It didn’t occur to me that what I said might affect him. But it did. The corners of his eyes got red. And…misty? A pink hue touched his cheeks and he hopped off the table. Keeping his face down and away, conveniently hidden by the rim of his hat, he held his hand out to me. “You ready then?”
I allowed him to assist my eighteen inch drop to the floor. “Ready.”
After clinging a few beats too long, our hands separated.