Page 98 of His Eighth Ride

Make him apologize for not telling you about his birthday, Molly had said. But don’t punish him for it. If he owns it as a mistake, then you just forgive him and kiss him and tell him you love him.

She’d grinned through that last sentence, and Opal had tried to stay straight-faced for as long as possible. When she’d broken, it had been into tears, not grins, and both Jane and Molly had been right there to wrap her up in hugs and tell her it was okay to admit she loved Tag.

Opal still hadn’t said the words out loud yet, because she wanted to taste them as they left her mouth. She wanted to watch Tag’s face when he heard them, and she wanted him to kiss her the way a man who loved a woman back would kiss her. So she couldn’t admit to herself that she loved Tag quite yet.

She simply wanted to see him, and it had taken all of her willpower to stay out of his space today. Going to the city this morning had helped, and now she worked on the opposite side of the farm from him, pretty much guaranteeing she wouldn’t run into him until she was ready.

Sweat ran down the side of her face while she bent over to lovingly press the pumpkin seeds into the mound she’d managed to make. Three went around in a triangular formation, and Opal moved down to do another one. With four mounds done—and a dozen pumpkin plants in the ground—she went to get the hose.

The property had water on it already, but it came in the form of a spigot sticking up and out of the ground. She had to pump the handle a few times to get any water to come out, and then it gushed and gushed.

And gushed, right over her shoes, making them a muddy mess of sneakers. Opal stared at it for a moment, feeling helpless and dirty and hot and like crying. Then she simply trained the hose on her feet and let the ice-cold water flow over her shoes until they were clean.

Then, she walked in squelching socks and shoes back to the garden. She took one step out into the soil before she realized she’d basically just come in from the ocean. And now that she was wet, the sand would stick to literally everything that had even a single water molecule on it.

Dirt acted the same way, and Opal had already committed to taking the first step. So out she went, her feet hot now as the water warmed under the heat of the afternoon sun. With every move she made, more and more dirt stuck to her shoes, and ankles, and even up her leg.

She felt like she had mud bricks on her feet as she walked, and by the time she reached the end of the row, she simply kicked off her shoes and left them there. She stared at them, getting more and more upset with every passing second.

Squeezing the hose hard, she tipped her head back and yelled out her irritation with her lack of gardening skills. “Why can’t anything just be easy?” she griped. Of course, she knew plenty of things in her life were easy, but right now, it felt like everything had been tied up into a giant ball of rubber bands, and she’d never find the way out.

The sound of chuckling met her ears, further igniting her ire. She turned, expecting to find Mikey standing there with baby West on his hip or his hand in his son’s.

Instead, she found Tag.

Her pulse leaped and raced and froze all in the same breath, leaving her gasping and unable to make a move in any direction.

“Hey, there,” he drawled, stepping out into her garden. He avoided the muddy and wet spots where she’d watered her precious pumpkins as he came closer. “I was hoping to catch you a little earlier.”

Opal stood there, the hose at her side, filling the garden with more water, and thus, more mud. She even felt herself sinking into it a little bit.

“I brought you something,” Tag said as he lifted a bright blue pair of garden boots. “But you beat me to the planting.” He glanced at the pumpkin mound as he went by it. “Seems like you’ve lost your shoes.”

Opal’s eyes filled with tears, and she still didn’t know what to say.

His eyes came back to hers. “Opal, honey, I’m really sorry I didn’t tell you about the twins coming for my birthday—or even when my birthday was.”

She sniffled, determined not to cry again tonight. She was far too old for such things, and she certainly didn’t want Tag to see her erratic emotions.

He set down the boots about a pace from her and held up the other item in his hands. “I got you this too. So you can bring it out here, tend to your garden, and then take a rest in the shade.”

The picture on the front showed a bright green inflatable chair, and Opal lost the battle against her tears. They flowed down her face, and she figured they could join the muddy mess that was her feet, her garden, and her life.

“Oh, my sweet honeybear,” Tag whispered. He took a couple of side steps, took the hose and tossed it away to the already-planted rows, and set down the inflatable chair. “I’m in love with you, Opal Hammond, and it’s just a little mud.”

“The boots,” she said through her tears as he gathered her close to his heart.

“And a little plastic,” he said. “Plastic boots, plastic chair. It all cleans up nicely.”

She put her arms around him and held on, everything catching up to her at once. “You weeded my garden.”

“Someone had to,” he whispered. “And you were off loving that baby.” He ran his hands up and down her back, soothing her. “Sawyer and Flint helped. They can’t wait to meet you.”

“I can’t wait to meet them either,” she said, sniffling as she once again fought for control. “I’m sorry I got upset, Tag. It’s just, I would’ve liked to have been here to celebrate your birthday with you.”

“It’s just an arbitrary day, honey. We can celebrate it anytime.”

She pushed gently against his chest. “It would’ve meant something to me,” she said. “And you?—”

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