Page 107 of Tapped

“What’s my supper?” Chase asks.

“Dinner,” Evie butts in and extends a hand to my dad. “Evie. I apologize now for the conversations you’ll be forced to have in the next week. Thank you for opening up your home to us.”

My dad looks from Evie to me and pulls in a breath before he nods once. “Good to meet you. I’ll do anything to get my boy home. Now that you’re here, I can tell it won’t be a hardship.”

I step forward and pull him in for a one-armed hug and a slap on the back. “It’s good to be back. You look good, Dad.”

He frowns. “You look tired.”

So fucking Dad. He tells it like it is. “I’ve been busy.”

“You need the fresh mountain air. Your mom is anxious to see you and meet the two people you’re willing to come home for. Let’s go.”

And with that, he picks up two of Evie’s suitcases and stalks back to his truck in his boots.

I look down at Evie. “Told you it will be an interesting week. But you’ll have over a thousand acres to put between yourself and the rest of the world.”

25

IN YOUR SOUL

Micah

I’ve taken the easy way out of adult life when it comes to the home I grew up in.

My parents haven’t guilted me. It might be selfish—hell, who am I kidding, I am selfish—but they never called me on it. Even Mom, who enjoys guilting me about everything else.

Like still being single or keeping them from being grandparents. She lays that shit on thicker and thicker as the years tick on.

They made it to as many college games as they could. Getting away from a working ranch isn’t easy, but they made it happen even after we lost Hannah. Maybe more so then. It didn’t matter how deep they were buried in their own grief—they always worried about me.

My mom’s helicopter ways have trickled into my adult years, and my father is just as crotchety as ever. But that doesn’t keep them from being the best.

They just are.

They visited me in New York and now in Miami, even though they hate big cities. I don’t talk to them daily, but we do talk often. I always know how the cows are doing. How much rain they’ve had. And how many grandchildren my mother’s friends from church have.

That tally is a number I’m constantly reminded of.

I don’t know how they live here. It’s hard to come home. Everywhere I look, I’m reminded of my sister who was only eighteen months younger than me. We might’ve fought when we were young, but as we got older, we were close, especially in high school. Even though all I ever wanted was to leave and all she ever wanted was to stay, Hannah and I were tight.

Hannah was a homebody. The ranch’s business is cattle, but my dad would bring home every animal she wanted. And not the run-of-the-mill dog, cat, or fish. Hannah had chickens, pigs, goats, and more. She refused to have anything to do with 4-H. They were hers for life. She wanted to go to veterinary school and live on the ranch we grew up on.

I wanted to live anywhere but.

When I signed to play at one of the biggest college football programs in the country, I knew what I wanted next.

The NFL.

Our dreams couldn’t have been more different.

Every time I’m here, it hits me like a freight train.

Hannah’s dream was stolen from her.

Mine was changed because of it.

But Evie, Chase, and I have been here for a total of four hours, and it feels different. I’m not haunted by Hannah’s memory this time.

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