Page 101 of A Nice Day for a Cowboy Wedding

Shane stood there, staring at their impending arrival, trying to work out what he was supposed to do. Mom had said trust and wait and all those other horrible things. Hell.

“Well, you just going to stand there like an idiot?”

Shane glared back at Gavin. “Maybe I am.”

“Come on now. Man up. Get out there.”

“Hey, how’s Lou doing? You man up there yet?” Shane retorted.

Gavin flipped him off, but he didn’t storm off or say anything. He nudged Shane out the stables door, so they were face to face with Micah and Cora.

“Hi,” Cora offered, hands in her pockets, eyes darting from Gavin to Shane.

“Hi. Hey, how you doing, Micah?” Shane asked, shoving his own hands in his pockets because they wanted to do anything but stay at his sides.

Micah held up his cast awkwardly. “Kind of lame. Be cooler if it was like an Iron Man arm.”

Shane chuckled. “Yes, that would probably be cooler.”

“Hey, kid,” Gavin offered. “I’ve got a chore you can do one-armed, if you’re interested?”

“Really?” Micah looked up at Cora hopefully.

She smiled thinly and nodded. “Please be careful.”

“Awesome.” But Micah’s gaze turned to Shane. “Um, before I go I just wanted to say . . . thanks for the baseball game and everything. It was really fun and I . . . I don’t know. Um.” He scratched his good hand through his shaggy hair.

Shane knelt down and held out his arms. When Micah hurriedly stepped into them, he knew he’d made the right move. Micah squeezed him with his good arm, and Shane expected that to be it.

“I’m sorry,” Micah whispered.

“I already told you there was nothing you had to be sorry for. Accidents happen.”

“Not about that,” Micah said, still whispering. “I haven’t always been nice to you, and all those things I said in the car, I said because I thought it would make you not want to be with us anymore. Not because I didn’t want you, but because I was afraid to. Because you were like a real dad, not my crappy one, and it was scary to want that. So I did something dumb instead of talk, but that only made things worse. So, I’m sorry.”

Shane couldn’t speak. He glanced up at Cora helplessly, but she had tears in her eyes, and that was worse.

So, Shane just hugged Micah fiercely to his chest. “Apology accepted,” he managed to rasp. “I love you, Micah. I want you to know that.”

“I love you too, Shane.” He wiggled out of Shane’s grasp. “Can I, uh, go see the horses now?” he asked.

Shane and Cora nodded, and Gavin nodded toward the stables. “Come on, kid,” he said, and evenhisvoice was suspiciously raspy.

Shane managed to push to his feet, feeling a little more broken and a little more healed all at the same time.

“Yeah, so, we had to come over after he told me allthat,” Cora offered squeakily. She took a deep breath. “And maybe I realized a few things about myself and the past few days when he told me all that too.”

“Yeah, what kind of things?” Shane asked cautiously. What hewantedwas apologies and love andwe can work this outs, but Mom had told him to wait. To be patient.

“Well, I’ve had some very real fear in my life, and I’d finally learned to fight it. To not let it win and make me just give up. But I guess . . . Well, there are different kinds of fears. Ones that are good and natural, like the fear of someone who hurts you, repeatedly.”

“Cora—”

“And then there are the fears that something good isn’t for you, and you don’t deserve it. And maybe because part of me knew that was a little warped, or at least I’d been told that’s not right by my therapist, because yes, I have one of those, I told myself I was afraid of you, and how you’d treat me. When in reality, what I was really afraid of was myself. What I thought I didn’t deserve. You never gave me a real reason to fear you, Shane, and it wasn’t fair to put it on you. It’s my own baggage.”

“You know, maybe I wouldn’t have understood all this if I hadn’t . . . I talked to Mom about what happened with my dad, and she pointed out it wasn’t all that different. Hiding parts of ourselves we don’t like or know what to do with. Fear that’s hidden under the excuses we give ourselves. But whether I understand it or not, I only want to help you carry that baggage. I’ve got enough of my own. I know I can’t take yours away, the same as you can’t take away mine. I wasn’t ever looking to be your savior, Cora. I just want to be your partner.”

“Like want not . . . wanted?” She looked helplessly at him. “I wasn’t nice.”

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