Page 27 of And Forever
“I’m going to make sure she’s front and center when you win another championship in Las Vegas.” I’m crying again, and Wilder is wiping away every tear but smiling at me all the same. “Our baby girl is going to see what it means to watch her mama go after her dreams.”
Wilder wraps his arms around me again, letting me cry out my love and relief in great heaving sobs. All the while, he soothes and holds me, whispering encouragement and understanding. After I hiccup through the last of my tears and attempt to subtly deal with my messy face against his shirt, we’re broken apart by Rooney. My horse has us laughing as he wedges his large headbetween us. I reach up to hold onto his head collar, giving his velvet nose a nuzzle.
“What do you think, sweet boy, want to hit the road again?” I ask the question, knowing that any concerns I have are fading or will be easily addressed. I don’t need to think about who will take care of Winona because he’s standing right in front of me, stroking Rooney’s flank and cooing his enthusiastic appreciation. “Wait.” A realization hits me as I finally settle my hat back on my head. “How long have you known?”
“Baby, I’ve been timing you since the first morning you snuck out.” The old, familiar smirk spreads across his face. “That’s how I know you need to work on the second turn.”
“You damn cocky cowboy.”
“Get your ass on the horse, Charlie.” Wilder points when I make a move toward him. “We’ve got maybe thirty minutes before that tiny terror we love so much comes streaking out of your parents’ house, wondering where we are. Let’s go.”
I arrive at Ada’s place in town just as dusk deepens to an inky violet. There’s not a cloud in the sky, highlighting the brightest stars that are just beginning to twinkle over her adorable two-bedroom house. It’s situated a few blocks from the town center and only three from the primary practice she works at. I park on the driveway that curves into the backyard, where light spills from the additional seven-hundred-square-foot building she uses to run the midwifery clinic she opened last year. As I close up my vehicle, Ada steps from the door, locking it behind her.
“This is it, isn’t it?” She walks slowly toward me, a look on her face that I don’t recognize, but before I can try to understand, she gives me a firm hug. I’m shaking my head in confusion, just about to ask her what she means, when she backs up and pulls me toward the house. “You can tell me all about leaving me, in here.”
Pushing through the back door, I follow Ada to the kitchen, where she has a collection of ingredients out on the small butcher block island. Ada’s home is much like her: warm, inviting, and lacking anything unnecessary. I used to worry about bringing Winona here, afraid she would move something out of place, but just because Ada has things where she wants them doesn’t mean she lacks the awareness and need for flexibility. It’s what makes her a damn good nurse and midwife, too.
“I’m not going anywhere,” I finally protest as Ada washes her hands at the sink, a laugh bubbling out of her as I sit at the four-person round dining table just across from the island.
“Yet.” She looks pointedly over her shoulder. After turning off the faucet and reaching for a towel, she gives me a kind smile. “You’re not going anywhere,yet,babe.”
“I love him, Ada. He’s Winona’s father,” I start, hands spread out before me in supplication. I don’t know why I feel the need to defend a decision that hasn’t fully been made, especially to my best friend. Sensing my turmoil, Ada takes three strides and takes my hands before sinking into the chair next to me.
“And that means you belong with him. No justification necessary.” She squeezes gently, imbuing me with her support. I clutch back, so grateful that sometimes we don’t need words to know what we want to say. The moment hangs bittersweet between us. Then, Ada nods once and rises from her chair.
“I’m not saying goodbye tonight,” I insist, standing to follow Ada back to the kitchen when she waves away my words. She situates a cutting board on the counter and begins working on dicing an onion with precise, methodical strokes. I reach across the island for the cloves of garlic, waiting. I begin peeling them, expediting things for her, and change the topic. “I’ve been working Rooney in the ring. I think I want to race again.”
“Better tighten up that second turn if that’s your plan.” Ada smirks as she pauses long enough to look at me.
“Did I manage to keep it a secret from anybody?” I sigh, flicking my fingers to rid myself of a stubborn piece of the clove’sskin. The repetitive sound of the knife against the cutting board picks up again as Ada laughs over it.
“Coop texted me about it earlier.”
“Oh,didhe? How long have y’all been on a texting basis?” I try to get the attention onto her, but Ada’s not having it. She easily sidesteps my taunting by walking the chopped onion to the stove, where a pan is sitting over the burner. With a few twists of the knob, the blue flames jump to life, and Ada dumps the onion to sizzle.
“How do your parents feel about all of this?” She takes the naked clove and starts mincing again. Deflecting, I go to the pan, grabbing a spatula to move the onions around, ensuring they don’t burn.
“They were on the back porch when I left the ring this morning.” I focus on the way the onion sweats until the pieces start to turn translucent. “For the first time in my life, they gave me their blessing to pursue the rodeo. No strings attached. Dad’s going to offer my job to Cooper.”
“And moving to Idaho?” Ada steps up and adds the garlic to the pan before spinning around to the fridge, pulling out the next ingredients.
“Wilder wanted to speak to them about it.” I flick my eyes up and back to the pan, my stomach swooping a little. “Said he owed them a conversation after being hired this summer.”
Ada wraps an arm around my shoulder, dropping her head to rest on top of mine, and I loop my empty arm around her waist.
“Riding off into the sunset with the cowboy who stole your heart,” Ada sighs wistfully. “Exactly how it should be.”
18
WILDER
EVERS RIDGE, MONTANA — LATE AUGUST
“This feels familiar,” Bex laughs as she finishes putting dinner together across the island in the main house’s kitchen. “Think it was about four months ago that you sat here on your first day.”
Her smile is broad, the fine lines at the corners of her eyes crinkling as it spreads across her face. Just like I thought the day we met, I’ve learned Bex really does give her smiles freely. Whether it's greeting new guests, talking with the rest of the employees, or checking in with the supply drivers, they shine bright and beautiful in their simplicity. But I’ve also learned that there are special smiles, the ones she reserves for the people closest to her: when Winona makes her laugh in the garden, when Mitch tucks her against his side, when she watches Charlotte ride. These bloom from the inside out, making the jade of her eyes transform into something warmer. I know the difference because I received the first kind on the day she’s talking about, but tonight, I see the one she saves for her family.
“Uh, yeah,” I manage around the thick realization sticking in my throat. Bex’s eyes pinch with concern before she reaches across the space and rubs my bicep.
