Page 13

“Oakland, go wash your face, honey,” I bid, even if it was clean.

Disappointment briefly crept into his brow before he slowly pulled away, “Yes, Momma.”

I wasn’t about to let Cole Henshaw’s outlaw ways become something my son looked up to. I returned my grip on the door, my knuckles white as I watched Oakland disappear around the corner. Once I trusted he was out of earshot, I whipped around to confront Cole.

The way he stared after my son, the sympathy and care in his eyes knocked the fire out of me a bit.

The man hadn’t ever done anything to me. I didn’t have any reason to be ugly toward him.

His gaze met mine and softened further.

“We, uhm– we hadn’t really decided if…”

“Oh.” An awkwardness that only came from good manners and proper raising escaped him, and he gave a reserved nod like he’d embarrassed himself, “I– I apologize. Of course, your family is still grieving, I should have called to make sure you were of a mind for this morning’s service. I’m sorry, Brenna.”

The muscles in my face suddenly relaxed, the tension I’d been carrying in my jaw instantly evaporated.

“W-wait,” I bid, stepping out onto the porch when he abandoned it.

“Ma’am.” He paused, glancing back.

“Just, uhm… let me get the breakfast dishes off the table and–”

“Take your time.” He fanned the air like it was nothing and made his way toward the street.

I’d never seen him in a car, but he took up a lean against a long-bodied Oldsmobile and flashed a smile.

I sucked in a breath, somehow feeling as if I’d been caught gawking at him. It wasn’t the case, the man just managed to surprise me.

I disappeared inside, the screen door slapping behind me as I called for my son. He appeared, his shoes already on, as if he’d been eavesdropping the entire time.

I snorted, and put on my jacket, before steering him out the front door. He raced ahead of me, his cheerful tone raising as he began to chatter with Cole.

“Did you see that game, Mr. Henshaw? Did you? The Cardinals are going to the World Series!”

Cole grinned, shut the door behind him and opened mine.

“Thank you,” I awkwardly managed as I climbed in the passenger seat.

He carefully closed the door for me and rounded the car.

“Have you ever seen Busch stadium, kid?” Cole chuckled, fastening his seat belt.

“No. I went and saw the Astros with my dad a whole bunch when we lived in Georgia, though.”

“That’s awesome. I never got to do that kind of thing with my ol’ man. The Cardinals always go to the playoffs, bud. It’s just expected. You ever see Busch stadium; you’ll understand what I mean.”

“What do you mean? What is at Busch stadium?” Oakland could discuss baseball all day, especially where his Astros were concerned.

“Because when you pass it on the interstate, and you look to the right, all you see is World Series displays. Their season always ends in November. They own the World Series.”

I glanced back over the seat in time to see Oakland’s brow hike with skepticism.

“What?” Cole laughed, checking him in the rearview mirror, “You don’t believe me?”

“I’d never call anyone a liar, Mister.” My head whipped around like he’d blasphemed.

He knew how I felt about that word on the lips of children.