Page 19 of Darling Bride

I’ve had a lot of practice. I can make fifteen minutes work easy.

CHAPTER FIVE

DIANE

We do go into the city and spend the night. After that, I’ve had about all I want of pavement and tall buildings. When we get back home, Westin riding the high of a successful sales season, I breathe a sigh of relief.

I stand in the kitchen with my heart so full. My house is clean, the floorboards Westin lovingly replaced gleaming in the early summer sun.

The door slams around the back. My son’s boots clatter over my clean floor, probably spreading mud. Quick as a flash, I lean into the hall and snatch him as he runs by. He skids to a halt, swinging around.

“Hey—what?”

“Boots off, honey,” I say firmly.

Obediently, he drops down and pulls them off. Luckily they’re just dusty, but my point stands. His sweaty hair sticks up on end as he jumps to his feet.

“Sovereign’s coming to help dad with Captain,” he announces.

“When’s that happening?” I drop his boots by the front door and head down the hall, pushing the screen frame open and propping it with the stop.

Westin’s in the barn, I can hear the rumble of his truck engine coupled with him swearing under his breath as he loads up boards.

“In an hour,” River yells.

I hear him digging around in the cupboards, so I lean back into the hall.

“You looking for a snack?” I call.

“Yeah, I’m hungry,” he yells back.

He’s a bottomless pit. I fed the kids a breakfast of grits, ham, gravy, and biscuits and he’s back looking for a snack an hour later. Sighing, I go back to the kitchen. He’s got his head in the fridge, pulling open drawers.

“There’s red beet eggs,” I say. “You take a couple of those, get your boots, and go get your colt ready.”

He pulls the jar out and shoves his entire hand in to grab two eggs. Biting my tongue, I take the jar from him and stand back while he runs back out the front. Dripping purple juice down my hallway.

I grab a rag and spot mop the floor. From upstairs, I can hear faint music from Allison’s room. She spends a lot of time up there listening to music, journaling, and probably daydreaming about Cash Sovereign. That’s fine by me—all I want is for my girl to have the childhood I never got, and that includes getting to be a teenager.

It’s a gift that I hope she takes for granted because she’s never known anything else. Westin and I have worked so hard to not drag our pasts into our future. Our children get to start fresh. Not picking up the pieces of our hurt.

Boots clatter down the stairs. Allison appears, hair wrapped up in a bandana.

“Where are you off to?” I ask.

She shrugs. “I thought I’d help River out with his colt. I think he bit off more than he can chew.”

“Thank you,” I say, leaning on the sink. “This is big for him.”

She opens the fridge and starts scanning the shelves. “Are we all out of lemonade?”

“Is the jug in there?”

She shakes her head, going to open the dishwasher. “Here it is,” she says. “Want me to make some before I head to the barn?”

I shake my head. “I’ll do it.”

She sets the jug on the counter and goes into the pantry, returning with a bag of lemons. “Let me help,” she says, pulling out a stool.

---