Page 69 of Live for Me

Harmony put the cap on her water bottle and placed it back on the table as she rose to her feet. “Be back,” she assured me, her rasp a comfort to me now.

As she walked to the foyer, I began gathering the empty to-go boxes and trash. I lifted everything into my arms, heading to the kitchen as Harmony pulled open the door. I didn’t have to search for the trash can; the Langstons were creatures of habit. The trashcan was where it had always been, at the end of the island, hidden away from anyone who came into the kitchen. I dumped the trash and heard a familiar voice.

“Just came to see if I could talk to Abbie for a moment,” Jigs said as I walked into the foyer, coming up behind Harmony.

The old cowboy gave me a warm smile. “You got a second, darlin’? Won’t take but a minute, I promise.”

I always have a second for you, Jigs.Those were the words I wanted to say—the words I craved to say. Hell, they were the words I should’ve said, but instead, I gave him a nod. “Sure.”

Harmony moved out of the way, allowing me to step onto the porch. Jigs walked over to the railing and turned to me as I leaned my hip against it. “The girls feed you?” he asked.

I nodded.

“Good,” he muttered, pulling off his hat and pushing his weathered hand through his white and gray hair. He looked away from me, his throat bobbing, his eyes scanning the ranch. I stared at his profile for half a second, knowing his carbon copy of a son would look exactly like him. Pain coiled in my soul. I would never get to see that, unfortunately.

Another reason to hate my life.

“What is it, Jigs?” I asked softly, wrapping my arms around myself, feeling a sudden chill in the dead of summer.

“You know, when I first came to this ranch, it was the most beautiful thing I’d ever seen,” he began in a way that all older men do when they tell stories. For the life of me, I couldn’t come up with a logical reason to stop him. It was selfish. I didn’t deserve to be standing here beside him, listening to one of his stories. But hell, I missed him so much. So, I kept my mouth shut, studying him and waiting for more. “I was young and dumb when I met John Langston. He was full of shit, but so was I.” His eyes slid over to me, his lips twitching.

I wanted to smile and imagine a younger version of Jigs and John, but I couldn’t. My brain knew John was a bad man and refused to paint him in any decent light.

“Mason Langston is living the dream I thought I would have,” he admitted when he looked back out to the ranch. “I wanted to be the best bull rider in the nation. Hell, a world title sounded nice too. I wanted the glory and the fame. I was in it for all the wrong reasons.” He paused for a moment, leaning against the porch railing, letting his hands hand over the edge. “I was in Little Rock when it happened,” he murmured. “1985.”

I braced for it, knowing what was coming. When I was younger, he never told me this story. To be honest, I wasn’t quite sure if Beau knew either.

“The bastard threw me off at six seconds. I don’t remember much, but I remembered the gasp from the crowd.” He looked down. “I knew I was fucked then.”

“Jigs,” I whispered. I wanted to touch him, to hug him. I wanted to comfort him like one of the thousand times he comforted me.

His eyes met mine. “Don’t want your pity, sweetheart. That’s not why I’m telling you this story.”

My lips thinned. “You don’t have to do this, you know.”

A soft yet rough chuckle left him before he continued with the story. “I came back home, and John and Jane nursed me back to health. Hell, John was still paying me while I was stuck in a bunk for six months. Jane would come in every morning, and she had this light about her…” He trailed off, shaking his head. “After I was healed, I met Beau’s mother. I didn’t have bull riding anymore; I didn’t have purpose anymore. So, I made her my purpose, and when she got pregnant with Beau, everything changed for me.”

He looked away, studying the land for a few moments. “When she left me, I couldn’t let it completely destroy me. I had a little boy to raise, after all.”

My throat thickened, a painful lump growing inside it. “What are you doing here, Jigs?” I croaked. I didn’t want to hear this story anymore.

He looked back at me, his mouth in a flat line. “Just came to check on ya, see if there was anything I could do to help you, that’s all,” he said.

I felt the urge to cry again, and I pressed my nails into the palm of my hands. “I’ll be okay,” I promised him thickly.

Another rough yet soft chuckle left him then, and he put on his hat as he looked to his boots. “You strong women…always lying,” he whispered.

His words cracked me in two, and I felt myself flinch. “L-lying?” I parroted, breathless.

Jigs lifted his head again, his blue eyes fiercer than I’d ever seen them. “You don’t have to lie to me, you know. I always could read you like a book, Abbie.”

“I—”

“I didn’t raise you to lie,” he said, cutting me off. His face was shadowed by pain—byanger. “Your mother did, not me. I raised you to be good, Abbie.”

My lips parted as a stared at him and slowly—carefully—I took a step back. “Please don’t talk about her,” I whispered, pleading with him to have mercy on me.

“When you left Hallow Ranch, you left a hole in everyone’s hearts. You need to understand that,” he kept at it, his voice firm.

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