Page 22 of His Tenth Dance

“Sure.” She looked over to Mike, and she didn’t even have to ask her brother to whistle through his teeth. He did, and into the resulting silence, she said, “Tag is going to pray, and then we can eat.”

Tucker shoved half a roll in his mouth and froze, his eyes falsely widening in innocence. Tag chuckled and ducked his head. Her brother and cousins and the other cowboys had removed their hats and hung them on hooks when they’d arrived, and a sense of peace and serenity fell over the farmhouse.

Opal truly felt the hand of God in her life in that moment, and while she didn’t hear all the words of her husband’s prayer, she certainly felt the spirit of it.

After the resounding, “Amen,” people swarmed the island, picking up plates and piling them with food. Opal stayed out of the way until everyone had what they needed, and then she followed everyone out onto the back deck.

Tag had gotten her lunch for her, and she slid onto the end of the bench, with West in his highchair on the end and Tag on her right.

“Have you thought about names yet?” Bobbie Jo asked, sliding into the spot opposite her.

“A few,” Opal said. “But we’re keeping those to ourselves for now.” She and Tag had spent countless nights whispering possibilities for both boys and girls to each other in the dark, but those felt too precious to share just yet.

“Smart,” Bobbie Jo said with a nod. “Once you tell people, everyone has an opinion.”

Tucker leaned over, a mischievous glint in his eye. “Just remember, Tucker works for a boy or a girl.”

“We are not naming our child Tucker,” Opal said firmly, but she couldn’t help laughing with everyone else.

Thank You, she thought, because God had blessed her with a very good family, and she couldn’t wait to expand it with a precious son or daughter of her own.

eight

Mission hadn’t expected to be at a baby announcement today. He’d gone to church with Deacon that morning, as usual, and his boss and best friend had asked, “Do you want to go to lunch at Opal’s this afternoon?”

Mission rarely said no to a meal he didn’t have to make, and that had been that.

The news that Opal was pregnant had brought a smile to his face, though, and Mission was absolutely happy for her and Tag. Something tugged in his own soul, and he could admit he’d like to be in Tag’s position.

Not with Opal, of course, but the idea of being a father appealed to Mission. He’d lived a lot of years alone, and honestly, he was ready for a change.

He thought of Kristie, instantly frustrated all over again at how their date had ended last night.

He currently sat at the end of the long picnic table, with Deacon at the head of it on his left and Steele on the bench at his right. The Hammonds always made everyone feel welcome, so it wasn’t that he didn’t belong there.

He simply wanted to be somewhere else—with someone else.

Glancing over to Steele, he found the younger man grinning at his phone, his thumbs flying across the screen. “Who are you talkin’ to?” he asked.

Steele looked up, his eyes wide and suddenly wary. “Uh….” He shot a look down the table to where Tag sat with Opal.

“Must be a woman,” Deacon said in that slow, casual, country-boy way he had.

“Yeah, all right,” Steele said. “It’s a woman. I guess you could call her my girlfriend. I don’t know.” His face turned a ruddy shade of red as he flipped his phone over and left it face-down on the table. It chimed as he did, but he didn’t pick it up again.

“Haven’t defined it yet?” Mission asked, his heart pumping hard right now for a reason he couldn’t name. Perhaps because Steele had never really dated anyone that Mission knew of, and it felt like if he’d started seeing someone, Mission definitely needed to up his game.

“We’ve been out a few times,” Steele said. “I really like her, but no. We haven’t talked about the superficial labels.”

“I hate that conversation anyway,” Deacon said. “It’s so dumb. If we’re goin’ out, then she’s my girlfriend. Why do we have to define it?” His grouchiness shone through, though Mission happened to agree.

“Amen, brother,” Steele grumbled.

Mission looked between the two of them, deciding a topic change was in order. “How’s it goin’ out here?”

Steele shrugged, his demeanor not changing much. So maybe not a great topic to switch to. “Good. Busy. Got a new horse yesterday that’s giving us some trouble.”

“Yeah?” Mission dropped his napkin on his mostly empty plate, grateful for the distraction of farm talk. “What kind of trouble?”

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