Page 145 of Before You Can Blink
“Papa,” she whispered the name she hadn’t called me since she was a little girl. “I don’t want you to go.”
“I know, darlin’. I wish I could stay, but God’s calling me home, and He’s one man you can’t say no to.” Opening my arms, I beckoned, “Come here. Give me a good squeeze.”
In a flash, she crossed the room, burrowing her face in my chest as she wept. I held her tight, memorizing this moment and praying like hell that I would get to watch what she made of her life after I was gone.
“I love you, Paisley.” My voice came out gruff as I battled with my own emotions.
“I’ll love you forever,” she vowed, sniffling as she pulled away.
I cupped her cheek. “You always were the best at keeping promises.” Stroking my thumb over her soft cheek, I jerked my head toward the door. “Go send the next one up.”
She couldn’t resist another quick hug before leaving, and the minute she was out of sight, my heart twisted knowing that would be the last time I ever saw her—at least, on this side of Heaven.
Next came Cash. He might have gotten his mama’s blond hair, but he was built strong like his daddy. The young ladies of Rust Canyon were in real trouble because that boy was a heartbreaker.
Unlike his sister, he kept his composure, assuring me that the ranch would be in good hands, and that he planned to work alongside Tripp—and his younger brother, Sawyer, if that’s what he wanted—until it was time to take over at the helm. Like his father, he’d been raised for this, so I made sure to tell him it wouldn’t let me down if he wanted to do something else with his life. I knew all too well how heavy the weight of responsibility could be, and I wanted my grandchildren to be free to chase their dreams.
Instead of a hug, we shared a handshake, man to man. At nineteen, I could already tell he would make a good one.
Cash must’ve tagged in his younger brother, because Sawyer settled into the chair at my bedside.
The two of us shot the shit about football. As a sophomore, he’d earned the starting quarterback spot for the school’s team and had big dreams of playing for the University of Oklahoma. I told him if he kept his head on straight and worked hard, I had no doubts he could lead the Sooners to winning a national championship. Even if he didn’t, I would always be proud of him. The boy had a strong work ethic, and his sense of loyalty was unmatched.
Then, the baby of the family, Ellie, walked in. Though I suppose she wasn’t much of a baby anymore, having just turned fifteen. It was hard to believe how grown-up they were all getting, and how much more growing up they still had to do.
“El Belle, come sing me a song,” I commanded softly.
Though her eyes were full of unshed tears, she nodded and moved closer. Perched on the edge of the mattress, her melodic voice filled the room as she sang lyrics she’d written herself. It struck me how all my grandchildren were talented in their own unique way. They all had such bright futures ahead of them.
After that came Bentley. He was always the quiet one, the serious one. It wasn’t a stretch to say he took after me in that regard.
We discussed his plans for after graduation in a few short months. He’d secured a full-ride scholarship to Baylor and was intent on attending medical school once he completed his undergraduate studies. Like his father, he wanted to spend his life helping others. I respected the hell out of that.
Reagan burst into the room, her dark curly hair pulled into a messy bun atop her head and streaks of flour along her cheeks. Huffing like she’d run all the way here, she placed a hand to her chest until her panting breaths settled.
“Where’s the fire, darlin’?” I teased.
She fixed me with a playful glare. “That how we’re playing this?”
I lifted a shoulder. “Could use a little laughter before I kick the bucket. Sure as hell beats all the crying.”
“Paisley?” my oldest granddaughter guessed.
“Mm-hmm. Girl’s got a big heart, so it hurts more than others’ when it breaks.”
Reagan hummed. “Suppose that’s true.”
“Why don’t you come sit down and tell me what you’ve been baking?”
With a quirked eyebrow, she moved closer. “How do you know I was baking?”
I reached out to swipe a thumb across her cheek, showing her the white powder that transferred from her skin to mine.
Pink colored her cheeks. “Oh, right.”
“Come on, don’t hold out on me.”
“Blackberry tarts. Was trying to figure out the right ratio to make a mass batch so we could put it on the menu at the Range.”
