Page 23 of We Redeemed the Rain

San Antonio, Texas.

Don’t go home, Bea.

I shook my head.

No. Wrong number. That was a crazy thought.

Don’t even find your gate.

Readjusting my phone over my ear, I tried to respond to Jerry, but my tongue felt stuck—frozen.

The serenity of Meadowbrook emerged in my memory with all the quiet beauty of a field of bluebonnets. The gentle, nearly melodic breeze—warm to a fault. The hundreds of pages of letters he wrote from his favorite places—the loft, the roof, his desk. How he’d written,“Silence used to scare me. But now, in the quiet, I find you. And I find me, too. It’s amazing how alive ink and paper can feel.”

Yes, alive. His descriptions of Meadowbrook kept the place living in my memory. Maybe my skin didn’t know the warm breeze, but I felt it all the same. I knew the scents, sounds, and sights of ranch living through him. He made it seem beautiful, comforting and homey, even with its imperfections. A perfect place to settle in and write some songs…

I could book a guest cabin.

Jerry cleared his throat, interrupting my spiraling train of thoughts. “I—caught you at a bad time, Bea. Get a good night’s sleep and give me a call in the morning, sound good?”

I didn’t need a good night’s rest. Dad said I needed a nice,longbreak. And honestly? I suddenly couldn’t agree more.

Alongbreak.

“No, I—I need more time than that, Jerry. Give me…a few days maybe.”

His pause said a lot. But, sticking to professionalism, he said, “Can I follow up with you day after tomorrow?”

“Sure.”

We said polite goodbyes and disconnected. Before I’d weighed the ramifications of impulsivity, my hands grabbed my phone and typedMeadowbrook Ranch guest cabinsinto safari. Five minutes later, I’d added an outdated but clean-looking Meadowbrook cabin to my virtual cart, hovering my thumb over the “auto-fill” prompt for my card information.

Was I insane?

I glanced down at my carry on. Being separated from my bags a few times before, I made a habit of having a bit of clothes, jammies, and basic toiletries in my bag. I had all I truly needed to walk away, until I could shop anyway.

I tappedautofilland confirmed my reservation.

When I discovered movement again, I power walked to the nearest ATIS screen, and found the flight to San Antonio.

I’m crazy. I’ve officially lost my mind.

6:44 p.m. departure time.

An hour later, I sat at gate A-12, completely doubting my grip on reality. But when my Denver-bound flight took off, I watched from the airport windows, not a single ounce of regret troubling me. Crazy or not, I was doing this.

Rest and inspiration—here I come.

I did have a few explaining phone calls to make though. The first one was to my younger sister, Jackie.

She skipped the greeting. “Aren’t you supposed to be in the air right now?”

“Yes.”

“What’s up? Did your flight get delayed or something?”

“No. I missed it.”

“Missed it?”

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