Page 8 of Saltwater Cowboy

“I missed you so much!” Her arms wrapped around my shoulders, pulling me closer. The familiar smell of her perfume wafted, and I felt like I was where I needed to be, albeit alone. She pulled me even closer than I thought possible. It was only then that I felt her slightly protruding stomach.

“I missed you more,” I admitted into her neck. I stepped back and held her at arm’s length. “You’re glowing, Bee.”

“I’m happy someone thinks so. Wren told me the other day that I was looking haggard. She’s eight, how does she even know what that means?” A wide smile spread across Blythe’s face.

I offered up the best fake smile I could muster. “That’s my nephew in there.”

“Your nephew, who is currently tap dancing on my bladder.”

“Ladies, save your greetings for later. Load your car and get moving.” The airport attendant scolded.

Blythe lowered the tailgate, and I set my suitcases in the bed before closing it up and making my way to the passenger’s seat.

“So,” Blythe broke the silence a few minutes into the drive back to her house. “Do you want to tell me why Thad isn’t here, or is that a conversation for later?”

My eyes didn’t leave the road ahead of us. “Later.” I paused, fighting back the tears. “Definitely later.”

“One question,” Blythe piped up. “You don’t have to give me any details until you’re ready, but is there anything I can do for you?”

“Only if you want to go to jail with me for murder.” I tossed back. “But I don’t think that’s a good idea. You’re with child. Poor little guy shouldn’t be an accomplice in our shenanigans.”

Blythe laughed, “Fair enough.” Her eyes met mine as we pulled up to the red light. “There’s nothing else I can do for you?”

I shook my head. “Thank you, though.”

I let the silence hang in the air. I knew Blythe wouldn’t pressure me into talking until I was good and ready. Hell, I was still trying to make heads and tails of what happened.

The gravel under the tires as we pulled into the driveway pulled me out of my thoughts and back into reality. No matter how foul my mood was, I was going to have to pretend like nothing was wrong when I saw—

“Auntie Rose!” Wren, Blythe and Charlie’s eight-year-old daughter, came sprinting out of the house and towards the car.

“Wren, it’s raining. Get back up here!” Charlie called from the covered front porch; the rain pummeled the windshield.

As the truck came to a stop, Wren was already jiggling the door handle, trying to see me.

Blythe nodded, and I opened the door for the kid.

“I missed you!” Wren climbed up into my lap to get out of the rain. Her little arms wrapped around my neck, and I could cry then and there. I wish I still had her level of innocence. Back then, the only things I had to worry about were what birthday parties I was invited to and what toppings I wanted on my pizza.

“I have so many new documentaries we can watch together! Do you like seahorses? Mom said you like seahorses. Grammy, you know my grammy, got me some new ones and I was waiting to watch them with you.” The kid rambled on, holding my face in her hands.

Blythe stifled a laugh. “Wrenny, Auntie Rose has had a really long day. Why don’t we help her bring her things inside?”

“Okay!”

Charlie lifted her off my lap and pointed her in the direction of the house before taking a look in the backseat. “Where’s…?”

Blythe shot her husband a “shut up” glance.

“Suitcases are in the truck bed?” Charlie immediately changed the subject.

I nodded glumly.

“You ladies get in the house, and I’ll grab your bags.”

Blythe blew him a kiss before turning the engine off and exiting the truck. I followed suit, slinging my bag over my shoulder. She met me at the front of the truck, and she wrapped her arm around my shoulder, pulling me close.

“Whatever happened with he who shall not be named, doesn’t matter. We’re here for you.”