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“Oh, hush,” Gerty said, gripping her tightly-but-not-too-tightly. “You’re not mean. You just don’t want to be slowed down.”
“I’m tired of being a patient,” Opal admitted. “I’m sorry. Thank you for taking me.” She stepped back and wiped her eyes. Thankfully, not too much water had escaped. “I’m going to go for a walk, I think. Don’t worry, I won’t pick anything up, and I’ll go really slow.”
“Okay,” Gerty said airily. “It’s really windy. Take my scarf if you want.”
Opal nodded, though she hadn’t needed a scarf in ten years, since she’d left the wild winters of Wyoming and gone to California.
She hadn’t shed her coat yet, so she simply had to reach for Gerty’s scarf, and she then held it in her hands like she didn’t know what to do with it. Gerty giggled and took it from her. “You just drape it like this.”
She looped it around Opal’s neck once, then twice, and she tucked the ends into the first drape. “Then you pull it….” She tugged it down, and the scarf snuggled up to Opal’s throat, sure to keep out the pesky wind. “There.”
“Thanks.” Opal smiled at Gerty, hugged her again, and left the farmhouse. She left the baby behind. She left the warmth, the glow of a good family, and the safety of hiding in her bedroom.
She faced the barren world outside, and she marveled at how much Colorado looked like Wyoming in the winter. “Brown and gray,” she said, the words making her lips warm for a moment, and then cold once the heat of her breath had gone.
She felt brown and gray inside too, and she drew in a long breath, held it, and then pushed all the air out of her lungs. She stretched her arms up above her head, pulling to the right easily. But when she moved left, she went slowly. Very slowly, trying to find the spot where it hurt and didn’t just stretch.
It didn’t take long, and she dropped her arms with a burst of air. She hadn’t even realized she’d been holding her breath, but her head tingled now, and she took another deep breath. She could walk, and she went down the steps to the lane in front of the house. This road went all the way to the northern fence, and Opal could walk on the pristine, flat, packed-hard dirt for miles if she wanted to.
She didn’t. She just needed to clear her head. She needed to be ready for her birthday party at the farmhouse that night. Gerty’s parents were coming. So were her aunt Gloria and uncle Matt, and their kids. Keith and Britt and their significant others were coming, as Gerty had grown up with them on the family farm several miles north.
On her side of the family, all of Opal’s cousins were coming, including Hunter, Molly, and their kids. Cord and Jane. Deacon, Tucker, and Tarr. Fine, the last man wasn’t a cousin, but Tuck didn’t seem to go anywhere without Tarr.
With Gerty’s grandparents and Tag, almost thirty people would be there.
“Twenty-eight,” Opal said, quickly counting and including herself. “Only one of whom is a baby.”
So she couldn’t talk to Tag tonight. There’d be far too much going on, in far too small of a space. Yes, Mike and Gerty had gutted the farmhouse, pushed out the back wall, and made their home big, bright, and beautiful. They had plenty of space to raise a family, house her grandparents, who lived in a separate cabin, and thrive on this farm for a long time.
But twenty-eight people for a birthday party would tax anyone.
Opal especially.
“They’re coming for you,” she told herself as she walked past Carrie and Kyle’s house. The porch stretched along both sides of the front door, and Opal coveted a quaint, country cottage like what they had.
She hardly recognized her thoughts as she glanced further onto the farm, where Tag’s cabin stood among a trio of them. He was the only employee on the farm, besides Gerty, so he lived among the cabins alone. Opal wondered if he ever got lonely, or if he craved the solitude.
She’d been so eager to leave small-town Coral Canyon and find herself in the cities of California. She hadn’t quite done that, though she had built a good career and reputation for herself.
A career and reputation she cared little about these days. She couldn’t believe she’d landed in another small town, this time in a different state. And this farm? It sat miles from any other civilization, in the county jurisdiction, not even any city limits.
And as Opal walked under the winter sky, she realized one profound truth: She loved this farm.
Maybe you’re not as much of a city girl as you thought you were.
The thought rang true, and Opal paused when she came to the first fence. The pastures sat dormant this time of year, as Gerty and Tag had already pulled all the horses back to the stables and barns. Thanksgiving had come and gone, and Opal should be looking forward to Christmas, when her parents would come to town.
Mike had even managed to get Ethan and Allison to commit to coming for Christmas Day dinner, and Opal could admit she was looking forward to having her core family back together again.
She was not looking forward to being the only single one there. Again.
“Lord,” she said. “Thou hast led me here. I listened. I came. I left behind everything in Burbank.” She took a deep breath, because none of it felt like a sacrifice now. Perhaps nine months ago, it had. She’d been surprised to feel the tug of somewhere quieter in her soul. She’d resisted God when He’d first told her to leave her job, leave her friends, leave everyone and everything and come to Ivory Peaks to help Gerty with her baby.
West wasn’t even that much of a baby anymore, and yet, Opal was still here.
“What am I doing here, Lord?” she asked. “I’ve done what Thou has wanted me to do in the past. If You’ll just tell me now, I’ll do it.” Her voice took on an edge of desperation, but she didn’t try to curb it.
The wind whistled past the fence posts, almost forming words, but not quite. Opal hunkered down into her scarf and pushed away from the rungs. She left the road and headed toward the trees, though they’d lost all their autumnal vibrancy and now only waved their bare branches angrily at the sky.
