Page 3 of From Rivals to I Do

“Don’t you ever come back here.”

Chapter one

Chapter One

I feel a wave of sadness wash over me as I begin to wrap up all my little cow collectibles in old newspapers that Sparrow brought me, gently placing them into a box heavily cushioned by bubble wrap. The more I pack, the more the old house gets emptier and emptier, and while I hate leaving it all behind, I know that I can’t afford it anymore.

I’d won the house in the rather messy divorce, able to prove he was adulterous quite easily, so to lose it here now feels like such a big loss. Maybe that sounds a bit petty, but when your heart’s been ripped in two by the man you stood by for nearly thirty years, it had felt good to keep it. The farm had always been my passion project anyways. But on my income, I just couldn’t swing it, and I was going more and more into debt.

Sadly, the slow descent into debt meant that one by one, all my beloved animals had to be sold to try to keep the house afloat. I’d tried my best to keep them, but it just wasn’t working no matter what I did. The last of them to go, Laney, nearly broke my heart all over again. I’d raised her from a foal, and she felt like one of my children. I kept her as long as I could. I’d even tried to find a smaller house with at least a tiny horse barn and some land. But, in the end, I couldn’t afford anything that had what Laney would truly need to be happy. And you know what they say. . . if you truly love something, let it go. So, I did just that, and it still stings.

After selling the animals, I thought that maybe if I could get ahead, I could keep up with everything, but I just couldn’t. Not alone. My friends suggested asking the kids for help, but I wasn’t about to disrupt little Joe’s or Sparrow’s life with my drama. They had their own lives. So, I sold the house, telling them all that I did it because I needed a fresh start, and honestly, I think I do.

I mean, after what I’d discovered happening in my own bed, it’s probably for the best. I couldn’t bear to go in there, let alone sleep in the room I’d shared for decades with Joseph. Even after Sparrow, my daughter, helped me get a new bed. . . I still couldn’t sleep in that room. . . and I began to hate living in a house full of heartbreak. The living room became my new bedroom, not wanting to disturb either of the kids’ old rooms in case they were to ever need it.

So, I sold the house, and decided to move south to Thistleberry.

“You doin’ okay, Mama?” Sparrow asks as she comes up behind me with Jade, my first grandbaby, who smiles at me with a droopy grin.

“Yes, just a lot of tedious work here,” I replied. “I didn’t realize how many little knickknacks and trinkets I really had ‘til I started packing everything up.”

“To be fair, we did buy you the cows all the time,” Sparrow pointed out as she picked up the very first cow figure I’d got as a wedding present—two cute little cows in wedding gear—and I try my best to blink back tears.

It seems so surreal that Joseph had done what he did, and that we wouldn’t be spending the rest of our lives together like we’d always talked about. We had been together since we were sixteen, married almost thirty years, and I’m still unsure of why he did what he did.

There had been no signs that he was straying away from me. I mean, we had both been working a ton. . . little did I know that it had more to do with him courting other girls than it had been about the bills going up. It was a hard pill to swallow. I had thought that we were the perfect team, like Dolly Parton and Carl Dean. But I had been wrong, and it still hurts. Like a festering, open wound that time isn’t seeming to heal.

I guess that old saying is wrong.

“Why don’t you keep that one, darlin’,” I say to her as she gives me a curious look. “I know you like it, and I already have so many.”

“Oh, okay, thanks,” she says as she wraps it, puts it in newspaper, and places it in the bib pocket of her shortalls before placing little Jade on the floor to roll around. “So, you excited about moving down to Thistleberry?”

From what I can tell, Thistleberry seems like a nice little town. It’s much smaller than what I’m used to here in Amarillo, but I suppose I really don’t need much. It’s not like I go out and galivant around the city anyways. All I need is a nice, cozy little place to lay my head, close to Sparrow, her husband, Daniel, and my grandbaby, Jade.

I’m a bit sad that Joe wants to stay in Amarillo, but he’s a grown man, and there’s not much I can do about that. He says he’ll visit, but his visits are so sparse even now that I doubt he will live up to that promise. He’s a busy man, working some highfalutin office job, and I’m proud of him.

But I can’t worry about all that. I have to do what’s right for me. Even if this whole situation sucks.

“To be honest, it’s a bit weird you know?” I say with a sigh. “I’ve been here so long. I’m used to my job here, and my friends. . . though I’m glad you’ll be close.”

“I get it, it’s a lot to have happened in a year,” Sparrow says. “I felt homesick for a long while when I moved away.”

My little Sparrow, always the good girl. Always trying to figure out how to help someone or heal an ailing heart.

“Well, I suppose that’s just how it is huh?” I say as I wrap up another cow figurine and place it gently inside the box, forcing a smile.

“You know, if you’re worried about not knowing anyone, you could use this one app that my friends use,” Sparrow replies.

“Oh yeah?”

“Mm-hmm! It, uh, helps you make friends at the very least,” Sparrow says. But I can tell by the inflection in her voice, and the impish grin on her face, that she’s scheming something.

She gets that from her daddy.

“What kind of an app is it?” I ask, interested in what mischievous thing she has up her sleeve.

“It’s called Love and Company,” she says a bit quietly, and I let out a chuckle.

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