Page 88 of The Cowboy Who Came Home

“Only three,” she whispered, a knife slicing through her heart. Three years felt like such a short timeframe when put in perspective. Only one tenth of her life.

“Yeah,” Finn said. “We’ll go together.”

“Thank you,” Edith murmured.

She’d just settled into his touch again, his lips playing with her earlobe when his momma asked, “Finn? Did you make it home?” Her footsteps sounded on the stairs, and Finn rolled away from Edith and stood on his feet before his mother entered the basement living room.

“Yeah, Momma,” he said as he moved toward the end of the couch. “I made it home.”

“I’ve got dinner on upstairs,” she said. “Did Edith go home? Are you hungry?”

“Edith’s right here, Momma,” he said. “Holly Ann sent loads of leftovers, and we’re gonna have a movie night.”

Edith sat up and ran her hands through her hair. “Hey, Kelly.”

She blinked and looked over to Finn and back to Edith. Her surprise melted away then. “You sure you guys don’t want pulled pork?”

Finn’s hesitation said it all, and Kelly nodded. “I’ll bring some down for you both. I know you want the hot barbecue sauce, Finny, but Edith, for you? I have sweet, mild, and hot.”

Of course she’d have three barbecue sauces for her family of three and their dinner of pulled pork sandwiches. Edith smiled at her and said, “Sweet and mild, please, Kelly. Thank you.”

She beamed with all the power of the stars. “You betcha. I’ll be right back.” She turned and went back up the steps, and Edith twisted to look at Finn.

“You know I’m never going to be able to feed you the way your momma does, right?”

Finn met her gaze, blinked, and then started laughing. At least he thought it was funny, though Edith hadn’t lied. She did pray that she and Finn could have a nice, relaxing night together, and as Finn dished up sides to go with their pulled pork sandwiches, her prayers switched to something deeper.

Please, please help me to make it to September third. I just need to make it through the day on the second, and then everything will be okay.

Chapter Twenty-Seven

Link pulled up to Wilde & Organic, his mother’s preferred grocery store in Three Rivers. The town used to only have two such spots, but with the growth in the past fifteen years, more shops and stores had come to Three Rivers. Link liked a popular chain that had come to town, because they had chocolate covered cookies he couldn’t get enough of.

He decided as he put his truck in park and pulled out his phone to text the store that he’d arrived for his pick-up that he’d stop by and get himself the cookies. Lord knew he’d earned them this week, what with working double shifts to get the mowing done. He’d watched his daddy and uncles do it his whole life, and this year, Link had taken the overnight shifts so his father could sleep.

After all, Daddy had turned sixty-two years old this year, and Link could see his exhaustion around the edges of his eyes. But not when he got to sleep while Link harvested. So he’d done that this week, and dang it, he wanted his cookies.

He sent the text to the grocery store, and they responded that they’d be out in a minute. Fine. Link leaned his chair back and closed his eyes, because they wouldn’t let him get out and help with the groceries anyway.

He had no idea how long he dozed, but the next thing he knew, someone had knocked on the window. Link sat straight up, his heart pounding and his cowboy hat knocked askew. A pretty woman smiled at him from the other side of his driver’s side window, and she held up the receipt.

Link hastened to roll down his window, and he said, “Thanks.”

“Sammy Glover?” she asked.

“Yes, ma’am.”

She handed over the receipt, and Link realized she was Clara Jean Walker. “Oh, hey, Clara Jean.”

“Link,” she said as she leaned into his truck. “You guys workin’ overnight to harvest?”

“Yep.” He gave her a weary smile. “Does it show on my face?”

“You’re not the first cowboy I’ve seen napping while he waits for his groceries.” She laughed lightly, and added, “See you later, Link,” before she bounced away and back toward the grocery store. She was several years younger than Link and still in high school, but Link still liked her bright personality.

He wouldn’t ask her out, of course, and his mind flew to Misty Granger. He’d not seen her again this summer, but he hadn’t gone down to any more dances. Summer at Shiloh Ridge Ranch could only be described in one way: hectic.

Every day, he woke up with a plan in mind, and every night when he went to bed, he’d done none of those things. Still, he thanked the Lord each morning and each evening for his life in Three Rivers. He didn’t want to go back to Amarillo and do more schooling. He didn’t want to travel.

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