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“Knock, knock,” she called from out in the main part of the cabin, and Tag turned away from the made-and-ready beds in the spare bedroom. He kept a computer in here too, but he hardly used it for much more than personal banking a couple of times each month. Everything else he could do from his phone.
“Coming,” he called. “C’mon in, honey-love.”
Boots darted into the room, pure doggy happiness on his face. He ran around Tag’s legs and right back out the door, clearly saying, Come on! Opal’s here!
Tag chuckled and said, “I know, buddy.” He went down the hall and found Opal peeling back the lid on a long, aluminum foil container that looked like it could feed a dozen people.
“Whatcha got there?” he asked as the first tang of barbecue sauce hit his nose.
“Ribs, potato salad, mashed potatoes, cole slaw, and cornbread.” Opal looked up, clearly pleased with herself. “With honey butter.”
“Mm.” Tag moved into the kitchen and wrapped both arms around her. “And you.”
“And me,” she said, smiling up at him. “Purple couch is out back, with some blankets, though it’s not too cold yet.”
“We’ll need ‘em,” he said. “Sun’s down, and that means the temp’s falling fast.” He refrained from looking at the thermometer he’d hung just outside the window above the sink. He liked knowing what he was going into before he did it, especially in the winter.
“Fields are done for the summer,” he said. “Planted and ready to go.”
“That’s great, Taggart.”
He warmed with the use of his full name. Opal wasn’t volunteering a lot of info right now, and she seemed more reserved than usual. Tag quickly got down a pair of plates and grabbed out some forks.
“You want to eat outside?”
“Yes,” she said simply, taking a plate from him. They took their fill, and Opal grabbed a bottle of peach sweet tea before she went outside. He followed with a bottle of pink lemonade, thrilled to see that blow-up purple couch.
He’d had no idea what Opal would do with it when he’d bought it, but she’d literally been carrying it everywhere, plopping it down, and lying on it. Now, it made him smile as she settled onto one end of it and balanced her plate on the other side while she pulled a blanket over her legs.
Tag waited until she got settled, and then he sat down too. She took his plate; he pulled the blanket over; she handed his plate back to him. The way they helped one another, moved in tandem, wasn’t lost on Tag. For maybe the first time, he felt part of a real couple—one-half of a whole that knew the other person so well, they could choregraph their movements, predict their thoughts, be one together.
“Should be real clear tonight,” he said as he scooped up a bite of potato salad. “Lots of stars.”
“I hope so,” she said. “I love the stars.”
As she’d told him previously, and why he’d planned this date specifically for this night. It was a new moon, which meant there’d be no light pollution from anything on the ground or in the sky. It would be dark, dark, dark if they got too far from the cabin or farm, and the stars would be the only thing giving light to the earth.
“Allison had her baby,” Opal said. “This morning. They named him Spencer.”
Tag looked over to her, the pureness of her voice striking against his heartstrings and making them vibrate. “That’s great news.”
“Her mom’s there,” she said. “Or will be tomorrow. I think they’re coming from Alabama or something like that.”
“Georgia,” he said gently. “I talked to her at Christmas, and her family is in Georgia.”
“Ah, Georgia.” Opal gave him a fast smile. “I suppose you know every family from Alabama, is that it?”
He chuckled and shook his head. “No, honey, I sure don’t.”
“Oh, don’t do that sexy drawl on me.”
“You like it,” he shot back. “So when are you going to see the baby?”
“Who says I’m going to go? It’s clear across the country.”
“Right,” he said. “So when are you going?”
“Her mom’s going to be there for a couple of weeks,” she said casually. “So I’ll go after that.”
