“Colt made it.”
I shake my head, looking at Colt. “What is it?”
“It’s just some of things we bought for our Jellybean. I thought we could bury them at the base of our tree, so we’ve always got somewhere to come and visit.” His voice breaks over the last few words and I hold him tightly.
“That’s really beautiful.”
“Your daddy made the headstone.”
I bite my lip to keep from falling apart, but the fact that Colt and Daddy went to so much effort to give us a place to visit with our Jellybean, it opens the floodgates, and they don’t stop as every member of my family says a few words in eulogy.
A little of the numbness I felt since learning I lost a baby I didn’t even want vanishes. It hurts like hell, and it’s just a taste of what’s to come. Because I know now that I have to leave Colt to save him from a life with me, in order to give him the kind of life he deserves.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
Lemon
Colt didn’t show for breakfast at six, and he isn’t here now for Mama’s hot lunch like the rest of the boys. I take my seat and sip my sweet tea, but I really only pick at the food on my plate. I know he’s angry and I try not to be upset about it, but I’ve been playing that scene yesterday over and over in my head, and I don’t know where to begin. He kissed me and I kissed him back. I wanted to keep kissing him, I wanted to do a lot more than kissing, but one of us has to start thinking clearly. As much as I cherish what happened that night after Earl’s, we can’t just pick up where we left off twelve years ago. There’s a whole lotta hurt under that bridge, and I don’t know if either one of us can make it right.
“I can only assume Colt not being here all day means someone dang wore him out yesterday.” Wade winks at me, Wyatt chuckles, and I see red.
I try not to take Colt’s absence personally, but it cuts me to the core. Of course, it isn’t helped by my brothers giving me and the empty seat beside me sidelong looks. I’m used to them poking fun, but today, I’ve had enough.
“Would you two grow up?” I demand, standing so abruptly my chair hits the floor with a clatter.
“Lemon Emersyn Winchester,” Mama scolds.
I swallow hard and whisper, “Sorry, Mama.”
Before I can mouth off at Wade again, West punches him in the arm. “Knock it off.”
Wade’s brow creases and he looks at our older brother like he just drove a knife right through his chest. “What? I was just—”
“You’re just gettin’ on everyone’s last nerve,” West chides. Wade opens his mouth to protest, but West shuts him down. “From now on, no more ribbing Lemon and Colt. They got some things to sort out, and until they do, they don’t need none of y’all makin’ things worse.”
Wyatt raises his brows and locks eyes with me. He’s usually the first one I talk to, so I’m not sure whether he’s more shocked or insulted to find that I’ve been talking to West about this mess.
“Y’all hear me?”
The boys—including Cash—all bow their heads and murmur their acquiescence, but it seems West isn’t quite done. “Now, apologize to your sister.”
Wade and Wyatt both glare at him and then a quick glance in Mama’s direction sees them following orders. “Sorry, Lemon,” they mutter.
Cash just sits opposite me with a huge grin on his face. Carla’s right. He really is a cocky cowboy.
A horse whinnies in the stable and a beat later the sound of thundering hooves retreat from the house. I stand and walk away from the table, out through the back door, and into the yard and stable beyond. I tack up Teraway and pull her into the yard. Climbing up into her saddle, I take the reins and dig my heels into her sides before I really have the chance to reconsider what I’m doing. She takes off in the direction of the west pasture, but she’s resisting. I don’t know if it’s my mood or the gray clouds above that have her in a temper, but I give her a gentle nudge with my boots and she breaks into a loping, graceful canter.
The clouds grow darker the longer we ride, and I have half a mind to turn back, but I can’t. I need to see him. We need to talk this out. Twenty minutes later, the sky overhead opens up, and I slip in the saddle as I crest the rise and see Colt working on the fence in the western pasture.
The earth has that sickly green look about it right before a nasty storm hits.
“Colt!” I shout against the wind and rain as I pull the reins on Teraway and my horse comes to a grinding stop. I climb down and stomp toward him. Colt’s fixing a post and seems to be a little hard of hearing today. “Why the hell won’t you talk to me?”
He continues slamming the fence poster into the ground, the thick muscles in his biceps distracting me for a beat from my anger.
“Colt!”
“Go home, Lemon. I already told you I got nothing to say to you.”
I didn’t want to do this, but I put my hands on my hips so he knows I ain’t fooling around. “Fine then, maybe you can listen for once.”
“Listen? Me, not listen?”
“That’s what I said, ain’t it?”
“I listen. I’ve listened to every goddamn word that’s ever come out of your mouth, and even heard the ones you weren’t saying out loud. I think I’ve listened enough.” He turns back to his work and begins banging again, but the rain makes the task that much more difficult and his hands slip on the handles.
“Fine. You might not want to talk to me, but I got things I need to say to you.”
“Then maybe you shoulda stuck around twelve years ago instead of runnin’ out on me.”
“You’re right. I should have,” I say, and he pauses slamming the post into the ground to look at me. Wet hair falls into his eyes and the horses neigh. I turn and glance at Teraway, she rears up but behind her the sky is black as midnight, and the storm front is moving fast.
Colt notices too—he stalks toward me and grabs Teraway’s reins. “Get on the horse, Lemon.”
“Are we getting a tornado?”
Colt glares and I scramble to do as I’m told because it’s been a long time since I’ve come face-to-face with weather like this. If Colt is compelled enough to take action, then that’s all the fuel I need to light a fire under my ass too.
Rain falls in my eyes and the wild wind whips my hair around my face as I turn my horse in circles. Colt unties Knievel and climbs up, placing a hand against the frightened stallion’s neck. They trot toward us but a deluge of rain and ice-cold hailstones fall from the sky, and I can’t see a thing in front of me. “Colt?”
“Lemonade!” he shouts back, and I dig my heels into Teraway’s side. She charges forward. The hail beats down so hard it stings my skin.
Colt shouts over the ruckus, “We need to find shelter, let this storm pass!”
“Where?” I scream back. “The house is too far?”
“Wyatt did up that run-down shack in the west pasture. It won’t do much in a tornado, but it should be dry at least.”
“Okay.”
He heads for the shack and it takes some coaxing, but Teraway decides to try and keep up and bolts after Colt’s horse. My saddle is slippery and my boots struggle for purchase in the stirrups, but after several minutes of beating rain and hail upon our backs, the cabin comes into view.