Page 59 of Live for Me

“Abbie,” Jigs called softly.

Slowly, I looked back at him, my chest heaving.

He tilted his head, his gray brows furrowing, his age lines creasing deeper. “You going to tell me what’s going on or do I have to get it out of Beau?” he asked.

“Jigs,” I croaked, not knowing what else to say. Something wet hit my cheek then, my body proving me wrong.

I guess I hadn’t run out of tears.

His features softened. “Hi, sweetheart.”

His name slipped from my lips a second time as I crumbled, lunging for him. My arms wrapped around his shoulders, my face buried in his neck as violent sobs left me, shaking us both. Not even a second later, his arms were around me, hishand stroking my upper back in a loving way. “Oh, Abbie,” he whispered. “My sweet girl.”

Jigs was the father I never had.

Jigs was the father I needed.

Hell, Jigs had been a better parent to me during some stages of my life than my own mother.

My tears soaked his old, worn-out, black button up—his work shirt. My arms tightened around him as he cooed, “It’s alright, sweet girl. You’re safe now. There’s nothing to worry about now. I got you. We got you.”

“I’m sorry,” I pushed out quietly into his shoulder. I shook my head against him. “I’m so sorry, Jigs.”

He gently urged me to sit back, and his hands were cupping my face, his thumbs wiping away my tears. “Shh. Shh. You have nothing to apologize for, darlin’.”

Beau came up behind him, his jaw tight. Jigs dropped his hands, turning to face his son.

“Gonna drop Abbie up at the main house, and then you and I need to have a conversation,” Beau said gruffly.

Jigs nodded. “Alright, Son. I’ll be here,” he replied in the same tone he’d been talking to me in. He looked at me, tipping his hat. “I’ll be seeing you, Abbie. Okay?”

I wiped my tears, nodding. “Okay, Jigs.”

One side of his mouth quirked up, giving me a glimpse of the cocky cowboy he once was. Then, he was walking away, and I pulled my door closed. Seconds later, Beau was in the driver’s seat, and we were heading back up the gravel path to Denver’s house.

I had yet to meet Valerie, but I knew if she was half as kind as Harmony, I would have nothing to worry about. Then again, both of their husbands didn’t like me much, so we would see how that went.

As we came up the hill, I stole a glance at Beau, hat on, shoulders tight, one hand on the steering wheel, his other elbow resting on the windowsill. I looked at his hand on top of the steering wheel, my eyes focusing on his ring finger, knowing damn well he was supposed to have a gold band around it. A gold band I would’ve purchased from the jewelry store in town, one I would’ve gotten in engraved.

He would’ve worn that ring until the day he died.

Hell, he would’ve been buried with it, right beside me.

“Beau,” I whispered once he swung in, parking beside Denver’s red truck.

His eyes snapped over to me, and the urge to drown in his blue was stronger than ever before. “What is it, Abbie?”

“I’m sorry,” I murmured.

Two words.

A thousand things to be sorry for.

It would never be enough.

He looked away from me, the wheels turning in his head as a muscle jumped in his cheek.

“Don’t apologize to me,” he said after a few moments of strained silence. He looked at me again. “Ever again.”

---