Page 64 of Wildest Dreams

TRIPP

We sit just a little bit up from the church as we watch the funeral car pull into the parking lot. I turn to look at Riggs, his eyes are firmly settled on the car and we're waiting for him to make the move for us to go.

Dad is already there with the truck, just pulled around the corner so still out of sight.

I have no idea how this is going to go down. I am praying that it'll be smooth, that we can all be adults about this.

The sound of horse hooves has me and Pacey looking over our shoulder to see Marty, he was our town’s Livestock Commissioner. He has always been on our side.

“Afternoon,” he stops his horse between me and Riggs. “How's the land lying?” he asks, his eyes gazing across the same view as Riggs.

“All looks okay, just want to wait until the coffin is out of the car, don't want to stand around any longer than I have to.”

He gives a steady nod.

“Thanks for coming with us,” I murmur, tightening the rein on Bucky as he stamps his back hoof down.

“Sure thing, couldn't have you walking into war on your own,” he sort of smirks which gets a growl from Riggs.

“We're not walking into war, and we're not alone,” Riggs snaps at him a little too easily. He is nervous, I get it. I am too. Marty just laughs, shaking his head.

“Riggs buddy, you're walking into an all-out war. I don't see no white flags about to be waved, do you?” he questions, but Riggs says nothing as the coffin is pulled from the car and up onto the pallbearers shoulders, one of them being Wallen.

“It's time,” Riggs clicks his tongue into the roof of his mouth as he kicks Travis on, and we follow close behind.

Walking across the lot, heads turn to look at us just as dad climbs out the truck with the three girls and Austin. Harlow leads Austin towards us, and we bury him in-between the horses as we walk past the crowds and over to the horse rings to tie our boys up.

We can hear the hushed voices, but we hold our heads high as my dad follows behind the us.

Riggs halts, jumping down from the horse and once Travis is secured, me, Pacey and Marty dismount. The sound of hooves in the distance makes me lift my head to see a crowd of cowboys riding towards us and I look over at Marty.

“Couldn't have you go in there without your army,” he tilts his head, fingers holding the rim of his cowboy hat and I have never felt more thankful than I have now.

Most of these cowboys are from neighboring ranches, a few out of towners, but we all know each other, and of course, leading them is Hudson up front and center, our own cowboys tucked behind him and then my eyes settle on Conrad and I give him a firm nod, him returning it with a smile on his face.

Pacey whistles as he ties Chase up and one by one, we walk towards the door, Austin still safely nestled between us.

There is no way in hell he is going in without us. Harlow slips in beside him, fingers lacing just as Dixie stands next to me,Aspen next to Riggs and Marty stands shoulder to shoulder with Pacey.

Inhaling deeply, I feel Dixie’s fingers brush against mine just as I flex my fingers out. She turns to look at me, fear gallops through her eyes like wild horses, but they soon settle just as my fingers link with hers, palm to palm.

“I've got you,” I whisper as we slip into the stream of people walking behind the coffin as Clay makes his final journey and that's when we hearGo Rest High On That Mountain - Vince Gillbegin to play as we enter the church.

We tuck ourselves out the back, the whispers still so loud and echoing around the small church, heads turn, eyes narrow and the main focus is on Austin.

Watching in silence as the coffin slips onto the catafalque, Wallen hanging back for just a moment, hand placed on the top of his brother’s coffin, head bowed, and his shoulders visibly shake.

I swallow down the lump.

I'm not sad for Clay. I'm sad with the situation. Sadness drowns me at the thought of being in Wallen's position as he lays his brother to rest, as he spends his final journey with the only family he has left.

The priest stands up front, clearing his throat as Wallen steps back, his head lifting and that's when his eyes settle on mine, then Riggs, then Pacey and lastly on Austin.

We all watch as his fists ball at his side, and that's when Riggs stretches his arm out, his hand pressed out as he hovers it in front of me and Pacey, a warning but also a protection to let Wallen know that no one is getting near his kid brothers.

Wallen finally slices his eyes away and tucks himself into a pew, whispering in an older man’s ear who then in turn looks over his shoulder, but he isn't looking at me or my brothers. He is looking at Dixie.

Lucian.

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