Page 81 of We Redeemed the Rain

I swallowed.

“You know,” she continued, “I’ve been with you for a week andyou haven’t told me anything about yourself or your history or your journey as a rancher.”

“I’m not that interestin’.”

She gave a soft laugh. “Well, you are to me.”

I glanced over again. Her gaze was soft, anticipatory—gently roaming my face.

Something funny happened in my chest. I remembered the hayloft, the inquisitive little girl up there who asked me a million questions.

“I wish I could be your friend. You’re interesting.”

I didn’t know what I’d done to capture her interest, but knowing I had it…a warm sensation swirled and drained around my heart, settling deep into my stomach. Heat stung behind my eyes, and I blinked a few times, clearing the burn.

Why was I afraid? Hadn’t I longed for this exact moment? I wished my head would give me the green light, letting me know it was safe to go. But that wasn’t ever going to happen was it? Talking about me wasn’t going to feel comfortable until I just…tried.

Was there anyone I’d try for besides her?

I cleared my throat, hesitating.

She shifted, waiting.

Leaning forward, I dropped my own plate on the table and drew my knee up to the swing, mirroring her. My foot on the ground pushed us into a gentle rhythm. “The downsize happened for a lot of reasons. The short answer’s money. But it’s a lot more complicated than that.”

“Money is always complicated.”

I nodded. “You remember me tellin’ you about Gran’s memory startin’ to go?”

She furrowed her brow in concern, likely guessing where this conversation was heading. “Yeah, I do.”

The dam broke.

For a long time, I told Bea about my Granny’s dementia and my journey as her caretaker.

About the thirty-year-old debts and lapsed policies I found when I took over Meadowbrook’s administration.

About the time I found Gran wandering the ranch looking for okra in the wee hours of the morning.

About the state nursing home that mistreated her and the insane price of the assisted living with a memory care unit. And how I had to sell the land in order to pay for it.

I explained how Meadowbrook downsized one section at a time, detailed the years I didn’t turn a profit, and shared about my shift into horse ranching.

It all flowed out.

Bea listened, teared up a few times, and asked gentle questions. “Was it hard to give up the land?”

I lifted a shoulder. “Not as hard as you’d think. By that point, I’d already discovered my passion was athlete horses. And I didn’t need thousands of acres to do that.”

“Where was Cooper during it all?”

“He came and went as he pleased, same as always.”

“What’s he up to these days?”

“Well, I bailed him out of the county jail recently on the condition that he’d stay at the ranch.” I waved a hand into the vicinity. “You can see how that worked out.”

Her eyebrows shot upward. “Jail?”

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