Page 53 of His Eighth Ride

“Or whatever,” Tag said. “I’m just saying, Gerty doesn’t need the farm to make any money. They’re already really rich.”

“Mm.” Opal found a piece of bacon to go with her last bite of potatoes, and she filled her mouth with it, so she wouldn’t blurt out that she was a billionaire too. But the food got swallowed, and Tag still hadn’t moved the conversation to something else.

“Tag, do you know anything about, uh, Mike’s, uh—my family background?”

He looked at her, interest streaming through his eyes now. “What do you mean?”

“My daddy ran HMC for decades,” she said. “It’s called Hammond Manufacturing Company.”

“Yeah,” he said slowly. “Are you asking me if I know you’re rich?” He chuckled. “Yes, Opal, I know your family is rich.”

“Not just my family,” she said, her nerves tromping all through her body. “Uh, when we turn twenty-one, we get a, ahem, pretty hefty inheritance. We’re charged to do something good with it. Most of us set up foundations that do things. Charitable things.”

She was glad she’d eaten before she’d started talking about this, because she’d never had to explain it out loud to anyone before. “I haven’t done anything with my money,” she said. “It’s another thing I put away, put on the backburner, for medical school and becoming a doctor.”

She sighed, and Tag reached over and took her empty plate. He stacked it on top of his and leaned over to put it on the table. He could just barely reach it, and he pushed them so they slid onto the table.

“And now,” Opal said as Tag settled against her side again. He lifted his arm, and she sank way into his side due to the cushy, air-couch. She certainly wasn’t complaining about that, and she liked the way he pulled their blankets this way and that until they were both covered and fixed.

“Now, God won’t tell me what to do with my money,” she said. “Or where to live. And I love West with my whole heart, but he’s not my baby. And all I’m doing is taking care of him.” She stared out past the fire now, wishing she could see into the dark. Wishing it didn’t represent her life so perfectly right now.

“I don’t understand why I spent so long becoming a doctor if that’s not what I’m meant to do. But God has been very clear on that. I’m supposed to be here.”

“There are clinics and hospitals here,” Tag said gently.

Clinics rang through Opal’s head. “Yes,” she said slowly. Perhaps she could open and run a free medical clinic. Completely free, for the good, hardworking people in these smaller towns outside of the city.

“I feel like I need my own place, so I’m working on that. Then, I’m going to figure out if I should just be the favorite aunt to all my nieces and nephews, or if I should start something with my money, or what.”

Tag ran his fingers up and down her arm, and Opal looked up at him. “Don’t you want to know how much money I have?”

“Does it matter?” he asked.

“It might.”

He shook his head. “Not to me. It’s obvious you have money.”

“Why? Because I don’t have a job?”

“And haven’t for a year,” he added.

Opal smiled and stretched up to kiss him. Tag took his time with her, and oh, Opal definitely felt the ground disappear beneath her. She floated on the purple blow-up couch, every stroke of Tag’s mouth against hers making her fall more and more—and more—in love with him.

So wherever she ended up, she needed it to be close to him, and she decided she’d double-down on her prayers in the hopes that God would finally give her a little hint about the next step to take in her life.

seventeen

Gerty paced in the kitchen, irritated that Mike continued to eat his Lucky Charms as if he didn’t have a care in the world. “We have to talk to her today,” she said. “She’s going to put an offer in on that place in Willow Springs.”

“We’re talking to her this morning,” Mike said without looking up from his phone. He put his spoon back in the bowl and started texting, which meant someone from work had messaged him. Gerty tried to be patient with him, because he’d taken today and tomorrow off at her request.

Today, so they could talk to Opal, and tomorrow for their son’s first birthday.

She turned away from her husband and looked through the living room to the hall. Opal did not appear. West played on the living room floor, still in his pajamas. Gerty had given him mashed bananas and toast for breakfast and cleaned him up before plunking him down on the ground with his toys.

She’d asked Steele and Tag to tend to the farm that day, and she felt very blessed to be able to take time off, though she sometimes grew restless when she didn’t have enough to do. Truth be told, she could be West’s mom full-time and love her life, as there was always something changing when it came to her son.

“When is she going to get up?” Gerty complained.

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