Page 98 of Cowboy Seeks Husband
Chapter 18
Roan smoothed hishair back as he stared in the mirror. The charcoal suit wasn’t black, but it was the only one he had. He took a shaky breath and straightened the black tie around his neck. There was a fine layer of dust clinging to the hallway mirror.
When was the last time this house had been cleaned top to bottom? It didn’t matter. Nothing much did. All that mattered now was his mom’s funeral. And for that, he needed to walk out the door.
And go.
That was how he’d get through it all. One step at a time. Alone.
“You ready, hon?” His mom’s neighbor Lindsay stuck her head around the front door. She wore a black dress underneath her coat that looked a little too tight, and her gray hair was pulled back into a subdued bun. He’d seen that hair in every color of the rainbow despite Lindsay being in her sixties, but not today. “The car’s here.”
“Thanks, Lindsay. For everything.”
She pressed her lips together and gave him a sad look. “I wish I could’ve done more. I’m just glad you were with her at the end.”
“Yeah.” Roan slipped his wallet into his pocket but left his phone home. Somehow it felt wrong taking it to the graveyard. And it wasn’t like he needed it for his mom anymore anyway. He was glad he’d been here too, even though the end had been brutal.
He was just so tired.
“Come on.” Lindsay slipped an arm through his and tugged gently. “Let’s get going.”
An nondescript black sedan sat waiting in front of their humble front yard, and Roan was glad the undertaker provided this service since he’d gotten rid of their car over six months ago. As they stepped off the porch, Roan noticed things he hadn’t paid attention to in over a year. The paint on the stairs was chipped, the flowerbeds overgrown with weeds. The grass was cut though, and for the first time in a long time he wondered who’d been cutting it.
It was cold outside, and he wished he had an appropriate coat, but he didn’t, and he wasn’t about to stand at his mother’s grave in one of his flamboyant designer jackets.
Even though his mom would’ve liked it if he did. Tears pricked behind his eyes, and he breathed carefully. He thought he was done with crying but apparently not.
When they reached the sidewalk, the driver got out and opened the passenger door for them. He nodded his head respectfully, waited until they were both seated, then gently closed the door. The drive to the graveyard wasn’t long, but it was spent in silence, so Roan stared out of the window. He’d lived here his whole life but the landscape felt alien to him. What was he going to do now? He could go back to school to finish his master’s, but then what? He didn’t feel motivated to work as an environmental engineer at all. He didn’t feel motivated to do anything.
Lindsay reached out and patted his hand. “We’re here, hon.”
Roan blinked. He hadn’t even noticed they’d stopped. The parking lot was full. Here and there, people made their way into the cemetery, heads bowed, respectfully silent.
“I can’t do this,” he whispered. Watching his mother’s coffin sink into the cold, dark earth? No. Never.
“Yes, you can,” Lindsay said, her voice soft but firm. Behind her, Roan could see the driver waiting to open the door. “You can and you will. You’ll regret it if you back out now.”
Roan’s heart twisted in his chest. Its thud rang hollow. He felt dark on the inside. Dark and sluggish and, God, so tired. “Okay,” he whispered.
Lindsay nodded at the driver, and he opened the door. With one hand, he reached out and helped Lindsay from the car. When he did the same for Roan, a flashback so vivid hit him that he gasped. He’d been about to climb on the hay wagon when Walker’s hand had gripped his, those callouses a delicious contrast to the warmth of his skin.
Now, he let the driver help him out of the car. The heat and sunshine of that day on the ranch was a stark contrast to this one. It wasn’t raining, but it looked like it might. The grass surrounding the graves was damp. His mom had hated the cold. He wished he could’ve taken her away from here to somewhere warm. To Louisiana, maybe. She would’ve been happier there. Roan let the pain and regrets assault him, and he thought he’d buckle under the weight of it. Nothing mattered anymore now. She was gone, and he was free to do what he wanted. Only the freedom felt like a scary weight, a frightening abyss of the unknown. He didn’t know what to do now that he was all alone.
Lindsay didn’t say anything, but she slipped her arm through his again, and together they walked down the path.
At least the cemetery was pretty. His mother’s grave lay at the crest of a soft, green hill, right beside her parents. Roan wondered if he’d end up here too one day, still alone.
The pastor nodded at him and began to speak. Roan didn’t pay much attention to the people around the grave. There were more of them than he expected, but it wasn’t a crowd by any means. He focused on the words, on the prayers, even though he didn’t know if he believed in a God anymore. How could he when there was so much suffering, so much loneliness. How could a God be benevolent and almighty and allow Roan to helplessly watch while his mother drowned in her own lung fluids?
His mind flinched away from the memories, and Lindsay squeezed his arm, moving a little closer.
The pastor went on and on as Roan’s feet went icy cold and he lost all feeling in his fingers. He didn’t care. The wind made him shiver as it bit at his ears, and still the pastor kept talking. Roan kept his gaze fixed on the flowers on the coffin. They were pretty and more extravagant than anything he’d ordered. For the first time, he frowned. There was a card attached to the largest wreath, and he wanted to step forward to read it.
Before he could, a large, heavy warmth enveloped him. The coat that landed on his shoulders might’ve been unfamiliar, but he knew the scent that came with it instantly.
Oh my God.
Roan closed his eyes as tears dropped from their corners. He didn’t look up, but Lindsay let go of his arm, and the comforting weight of a man’s strong arm gently settled around him. Roan allowed himself to be pulled closer, and he gratefully leaned against Walker, suddenly too tired to even carry his own weight.
