Page 59 of His Eighth Ride

Rooster came to the gate as Tag looked his way. “You’re okay, Roost,” he said. “It’s just a little hail.” It seemed to have slowed and lightened already, and Tag had hope that he and Steele wouldn’t be trapped in here for much longer.

His phone vibrated, and he pulled it out of his jacket pocket. Opal’s name sat there, and surprise darted through him when he realized she was calling, not texting. His brain caught up to his eyes, and he swiped on the call.

“Hey,” he said as he lifted the phone to his ear.

“Is there power at the farm?” she asked.

Tag looked up to the lights blazing in the barn. “Yeah. Where are you?” A popping noise came through the line, and Tag didn’t like the sound of it.

“I pulled over on the side of the road,” she said, her voice a bit breathless and definitely tinged with fear. “There’s a hailstorm, and I can’t see anything.”

“We just went through the hail,” he said. “Steele and I barely made it into the barn with Cinnamon.”

“I was on my way to meet with the general contractor, but I think I might just cancel. I checked the weather, and it’s supposed to start snowing and not stop until morning.”

“I looked earlier,” he said. “It wasn’t supposed to start snowing until nine or ten.”

“Well, it’s four-ten,” Opal said matter-of-factly.

Tag smiled to himself. “It sure is, honeybear.”

“Don’t tease me, Tag.” She sighed, and he could just picture her pushing her hair back as she tried to see the solution to her current problem. “I swear, it’s like every time I decide to take a step forward, something pushes me back two. Or three.”

He frowned as he sank onto a stool. “What do you mean?” He watched Boots circle next to Max and lie down. Steele moved about the barn, putting away lead ropes and doing some general tidying up.

“I mean, I’d finally decided to buy the acreage from Mike, right? And the banker I need to sign my forms is out of town until next week. On vacation in Mexico, if you can believe that. And now that I’m on the way to go over plans for the house, I can’t get there. It’s just so irritating and frustrating.”

“I’m sorry, sweetheart,” he murmured. He pressed his eyes closed and tried to hear the Lord whispering to him what he should say. He’d definitely had help from On High with Opal in the past, and he needed it again. “I don’t think it means you shouldn’t be doing what you’re doing.”

“No?” she asked, her voice a touch higher than normal. “It feels like it.” She sniffled, and Tag hated that she was crying on the side of the road somewhere, alone. A roar sounded in his ears, and he simply wanted to be with her to shore her up and help her feel better.

“Life can just be life sometimes,” he said. “It’s wintertime, and everyone wants to escape. Heck, if I could be in Cancun right now, I would be.” He smiled as he said it, because he much preferred mountains to beaches, but he would take some warmer weather about now.

He thought of his brothers in Texas, and he bet they weren’t dealing with loud-mouthed hail and nervous horses and crying girlfriends.

“Honeybee,” he whispered. “Let’s talk about Valentine’s Day, okay?”

“Okay,” Opal said, and Tag’s heart got wrung out at her agonized tone.

“I got a reservation at this great place your cousin told me about.”

“Which cousin?” Her voice sounded stronger now, and Tag ducked his head as Steele came to sit beside him. Pinging still sounded on the roof, though it had quieted quite a bit. It was probably turning to rain now, but Tag didn’t want to go out in that any more than he did hail.

“Hunter,” Tag said, employing his Southern accent. “He said he was allowed to tell two people about it, because they’re doing a special menu, and they’re not open to everyone.”

“Sounds interesting,” Opal said.

And expensive, but Tag didn’t say so. “I’m told they’ll have all of your favorites.”

“By whom?” Opal asked, her voice now guarded instead of emotional.

“Gerty,” he said with a smile. “Don’t you trust me, Opal?”

“I do,” she said.

“Yeah, I’m convinced.” He laughed and looked over to the indoor chicken coops. None of the birds seemed worried about the hail or rain or the agitation of the horses. “It’s going to be a great night. It’s over in Littleton, so a bit of a drive, and I’ve been told I need to tell you to dress nicely.”

“Define that, please,” she said.

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