Page 188 of We Redeemed the Rain

Bea

Thirteen months later

My back muscles unraveled as I stepped out of my car and onto the gravel. The October sun kissed my skin as I stretched the day of driving away. I scanned the porch and barnyard, looking for Tag. He said he’d be waiting for me.

I grabbed my Dr. Pepper from the cup holder, removed my duffle from the back seat, and looped pink gift bags over my arm. At first, I didn’t like the idea of spending my birthday weekend away from Tag, but the fall girls getaway with my sisters, mom, and aunt filled my soul like nothing else could have.

But four days away from Tag had me frantic to see him. I lifted my free hand to shield my eyes, scanning my surroundings one more time.

The ranch was unnaturally quiet for a Sunday evening. Meadowbrook paid for Jesse to get his Class As back in July so Tag could have one or two weekends off per month. We also hired another part timer to keep Tag’s hours from being 5:30 a.m. to 8 p.m every day. I stayed very busy with Meadowbrook’s guests, but this weekend there wasn’ta soul around. Tag told me to block the weekend from bookings so I wouldn’t have to get up and make breakfast for anyone on my birthday. I told him that was silly, but he insisted. It ended up being good intuition on his end—only a few days after I blocked the schedule, my mom called and said everyone wanted to do a girls trip.

The kitchen door abruptly opened.

I spun to see my cowboy standing there with an ear-to-ear smile.

In the last year, he had transformed. His body was thicker, healthier. He’d put on a good fifteen pounds of muscle and meat because he stopped skipping lonely meals and gladly joined me at the table whenever I called him. About six months ago, he had to buy new clothes, because he couldn’t squeeze his strong legs into his pants.

His face had gone from perpetually exhausted to rested, more peaceful. His color was better, his eyes brighter, and his smile more genuine.

He was also a more organized, less stressed boss. He attacked problems with a clearer head, and the morale on the ranch improved tenfold.

Yet even amid the downpour of everyday miracles, Tag still had very dark moments. He talked to Miss Simone bi-weekly and engaged in various therapies at a trauma center in San Antonio once a month. He’d made many improvements, but there was always a price to pay. Oftentimes, therapy ushered in the storms. But we were hopeful because this past summer, the gray clouds came less and the sun shone more often.

Today, he stood at the door with his hands clasped in front of him like a bodyguard. He wore his navy blue Meadowbrook t-shirt with the logo I had designed in the corner. His dirty khaki pants clung in all the right places. I let my gaze give his form a lazy perusal. When I glanced back at his face, I realized he was checking me out, too.

Without making any move to clear the distance between us, he spoke, slow and drawly. “Good evenin’.”

Giddy tingles scorched my veins. “Good evening.”

He casually leaned his shoulder against the door frame and twirled his finger around in a circle. “Spin. Lemme see how twenty-eight looks.”

I snorted a laugh through my nose, dropped my belongings into the gravel, and slowly spun. When my back was turned to him, he commanded, “Stop.”

I halted.

He puffed an exhale of amazement and softly cussed. Pulling himself together, he said, “Alright. Continue.”

With a giggle, I finished my spin. When I looked up at him, he was pressing his lips together, trying not to crack.

“And?”

“Twenty-eight looks”—he clicked his tongue—“exactly like a Texas summer.”

Translation:hot.

When his gaze finally flicked back to mine, my heart lurched at the gray irises I’d memorized. A slow smile lifted his cheeks. “We've got some celebratin’ to catch up on.”

“What did you have in mind?”

“I have a gift for you.”

I lifted my left hand and waggled my fingers, my ring shimmering in the light. “I thoughtthiswas my birthday gift.”

A week ago, Tag popped the question in the hayloft of all places. My ring was a simple band right now, but it stood for everything I’d ever hoped for in this world. A diamond wouldn’t make the promise mean more.

“Nah. You were already gonna get that. Birthday or not.” He jerked his chin back. “Get up here and I'll show you what it is.”

He didn’t have to ask me twice. Leaving my stuff to bake in the sun, I climbed up the stairs and into his embrace. Going up to my tiptoes, I wrapped my arms around his neck and he held me, swaying side to side like he typically did, squeezing some breath out of me. Tag’s hugs always came off a little desperate, like he’d die if he let go, and I lapped them up like a kitten laps warm milk. I would stand in one of his hugs, happy as a lark, if the world was burning down around us.

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