Page 147 of The Mountain Echoes
“She’s going to go to prison.” I feel numb at the thought. In my head, Celine is always in designer clothes, glowing. The idea of her sitting in a cell in an orange jumpsuit is abhorrent.
“Yes.”
“I…can you help me get her the best lawyer possible?”
Maverick looks surprised for a moment. Then, he smiles wide. “You’ve got the biggest heart, don’t you, Aria Delgado?”
“I don’t know about that. But Celine’s my sister.”
“I know a few people. We’ll make sure she has a lawyer.”
“A good one,” I insist.
“A good one,” he agrees and kisses me softly. “Let’s go talk to Father McKay about Earl’s service.”
I tip my chin in acknowledgment.
“Do you think he’ll tell a bawdy joke during the service?” I muse aloud. “You know, in honor of Earl.”
Maverick lets out a soft laugh. “Let’s find out.”
trigger warning
The following chapter contains depictions of grief and mourning following the sudden and violent loss of a beloved mentor. It includes funeral imagery, emotional breakdowns, and themes of death and legacy.
Please take care while reading.
CHAPTER 34
maverick
It’s a soft day. The sky hangs low and gray as if pulled down by the grief of bidding Earl goodbye.
The pasture hill is quiet except for the wind through the pines.
Earl always said he wanted to rest “Where the land can still breathe.”
He didn’t want to be buried in a cemetery, but at Longhorn, where he lived most of his life; where he gave his blood and sweat, and ultimately his last breath.
Aria picked a spot for him, right at the crest, facing west.
It overlooks the cattle trails and the orchard.
Nadine and Tomas, who were closest to Earl, agree with her choice, deeming it perfect for their beloved friend and mentor.
“Fitting,” Nadine said with a smile. “He always wanted to keep an eye on things.”
The service is simple—just a few friends and family.
Most of Wildflower Canyon will show up for the wake in a few hours. A goodbye that will be in complete contrast with the one Longhorn Ranch hosted a few months ago, when Rami passed.
No fancy catering or wine. Just barbecue, coleslaw, beer…cowboy grub.
Father McKay stands by Earl’s grave, the wind stirring the collar of his worn black coat.
“At Rami’s funeral, he asked me if heaven had coffee strong enough to wake the dead,” Father McKay begins. “I told him, ‘If it doesn’t, Earl, you’ll be the one to teach the angels how to brew it right.’”
A soft murmur of laughter rolls through the gathered mourners.
