Page 7 of Must Love Mistletoe

“Mom, stop. It’s okay. It’ll be all right. You’ll see.”

But she didn’t see.

The world was turning white around her, and she couldn’t see a thing.

Chapter Three

Three weeks later…

The funeral service would bring closure, Cal thought as he fiddled with the button of his new coat. He’d had to buy a new shirt, too. He’d bulked out across the shoulders and thighs since they’d buried his father and his old church clothes no longer fit him. His stomach had stayed trim, courtesy of riding and ranching… pulling calves and mending fences, splitting wood and a million other everyday tasks he got through in a solid day’s work, but it wouldn’t do for a man to split his trousers at the funeral of his long-lost best friend.

He stood with his brothers outside the tiny church that had been in the valley for generations. People from the valley and beyond had turned out to pay their final respects. If they were anything like him, they’d put in a prayer for peace for the living while they were at it. He was a pallbearer, alongside his brothers, and Sam was a pallbearer, too.

Beth had refused her son’s request to walk the coffin into the church at first.

And the second and third time, too.

And then Savannah Casey, mother of men, had taken Beth aside, and by the time Savannah had finished talking, Beth had changed her mind.

“I told her that if Sam didn’t think himself capable of undertaking that duty, he wouldn’t have asked for it three times over,” Savannah had told him later. She’d fixed all five of her sons with a steely gaze. “And I told her thatmysons would bethere to steadyherson if he faltered. I trust you’ll prove me right.”

The yes, ma’ams had come thick and fast but she’d held Cal back, wanting a word with him alone. “It’s you he looks up to the most. And there’s not a doubt in my mind that he won’t take strength from you on the day.”

“I’ll be there,” he’d promised.

And here he was, with Sam in his Sunday best, sticking to him like glue as they lined up around the coffin. Sam, in front of him and Seth behind. Mason, TJ, and Jett on the other side.

They’d be carrying the coffin by its handles, down low so that Sam could shoulder a little of the weight as well. Cal had never been derelict in any duty laid upon him yet, and to the best of his ability, he’d see this one through, too.

He crouched down next to the boy, last minute, as the funeral music began. The kid’s tie was fit to strangle him, and Cal loosened it off a touch before placing a hand on Sam’s painfully thin shoulder. “I know you’ll do your father proud today. An’ you can stick close to me all day long or you can talk with the people who want to pay their respects to you and your mom. I’ll be watching out for you no matter what. That’s a promise I’m making to you, your father, and God. Got it?”

The boy nodded.

“Your dad was a good man—you’re going to hear a lot of that today. He loved you and your mom something fierce. He would never have left you voluntarily, and he didn’t, and you know that now, beyond any doubt. You can be proud of the man he was.”

Cal didn’t rightly know if he believed that about Red or not, but now was not the time to dwell on it.

Sam needed to believe that his father was a good man, and if that meant not examining the past too closely, so be it.

Eyes bright, the boy nodded.

“Be grateful for the people who’ve come to grieve with you today. They’re a tough crowd, but you’re one of them, and they’re proud to stand beside you while you lay your father to rest. This is one of the hardest days you’ll ever put in, but you’ve got this.”

Another nod, firmer this time.

“Let’s do it.” Cal straightened and took his place, and on his count of three they lifted the coffin from the trolley. With a few more quietleft, rightmutterings, they fell into step and entered the church.

And, after almost three long years of not knowing, finally laid Owen ‘Red’ Evans to rest.

*

Funny things, funerals,Beth thought wearily as this one neared its end. For her, the torture of not knowing what had happened to Red had come to a close, and there was solace in that. She was a proper widow now, and there was comfort in that. Not a woman whose husband might have abandoned her for someone else and never looked back. Not someone living her life in limbo, wondering if one day her missing husband might walk through the door. She could move on now. People keptsayingthat. Good, charitable people all wanting the best for her.

You’re still young. Beautiful, with a son to be proud of. You can start over.

What did that even mean?

She caught Sam’s eye and gave him a small nod. They’d been mingling for hours, Sam a small and somber shadow at her side when he wasn’t tailing Cal. The food that had been set out on long trestle tables was long gone and there was no more tea or coffee in the shiny boiler urns. She’d spoken to everyone andthanked them for coming. All except for one very important person who’d spent most of the funeral avoiding her.

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