The longer Abby wielded a hammer that afternoon, the more she had doubts about staying on the ranch. It wasn’t the job or the fact that she’d hit her thumb twice, but Cooper. If she left right now, it would be over and she wouldn’t have to make those difficult decisions later, like telling him good-bye and then having to see him in church or out on his morning run around the Lucky Seven.
When the day was done and Rusty drove them back to the house, she sat on the porch with Martha at her side for half an hour, trying to talk herself into staying, but it didn’t work. She took a quick shower, packed a few things in a duffel, and tossed it in her truck.
She hated good-byes, so if she decided to stay gone, she wouldn’t even have to come back. She had her mother’s ashes and the most important things of her life in the duffel bag. The boxes under the bed could stay there, but everything else was going with her.
Driving down the pathway she’d seen Rusty take seemed to take hours, but in reality it was only about a five-minute drive. The little bunkhouse sat deep in the shadows of a pecan grove. When the leaves were on the trees, it would be completely hidden.
He opened the door with a worried expression when she knocked. “What’s happened?”
“Nothing on the ranch. A lot inside of me.”
“Humph!” He crossed his arms over his chest. “I figured you’d be the last one standing.”
“I may be, but I need some time. What does the will say about taking a day off?”
“It says you can sit on the porch and drink sweet tea or beer or stay drunk on moonshine, or you can take your third of the money and go anytime you want. But if you leave for more than twenty-four hours, then you are declared officially out of the runnin’ for the ranch. And you only get one twenty-four-hour leave.”
“I’m taking mine now. If I’m not back at six tomorrow evening, I’ll call you with a bank number where you can wire my money,” she said.
“You’ll be back,” he said.
“What makes you so sure?”
“I just am, Abby. You are not a quitter; you are a fighter.”
“We’ll see,” she said. She started to walk away and turned back. “One more thing, Rusty. In case I don’t come back, why daisies?”
“Daisies?” he asked.
“At the funeral. Why did you give us daisies and why did you tell us to put them in the casket with him?”
“It was my idea. He said no flowers, but it didn’t seem right. And I felt like he should take something from his daughters with him. I went to get roses since he cultivated beautiful roses all summer. Unfortunately, the florist didn’t have any roses, so I bought three daisies,” Rusty said.
“Thank you. I wondered why he’d want us to do that when he didn’t give a shit about us while we were growing up,” Abby said.
The knowledge of the daisies left her feeling flat. In the back of her mind, she’d thought maybe he knew that daisies were tough little flowers, and had been telling them that he appreciated their strength. But Ezra hadn’t even known about them, so it hadn’t been any seal of approval on the three girls he’d fathered.
She got back into her truck, turned off her phone, and shoved it into the glove compartment. She didn’t even want to talk to Haley or her sisters and especially not Cooper until she had this figured out. It was dark when she parked her truck in a motel parking spot, picked up her duffel bag, and carried it into the lobby.
She paid for a room and told herself in the elevator on the way up that she could figure things out now. At the ranch house, a memory of Cooper popped up every which way she turned. At the dinner table, she could feel his presence even though the chair beside her was empty. Out in the pasture, she could visualize him hopping over the fence if she looked up. Even the cemetery contained memories of all those kisses they’d shared on the bench under the bare oak trees.
Here she wouldn’t have a single distraction and she could make up her mind, once and for all, about her future.
The sun was setting when Cooper finally finished his work in Lubbock and stopped in at Fuzzy’s Tacos for a couple of fish tacos. It had taken a hell of a lot longer than he’d expected, but he’d gotten a late start and then there had been an accident that held up traffic for a solid hour. Then there was the transfer paperwork.
He’d tried to call Abby a couple of times but it went straight to voice mail. He figured she’d left her phone in the bedroom and couldn’t hear it, so he sent a couple of text messages.
The waitress was a tall redhead with brilliant green eyes and the way she winked and smiled, he had no doubt that she would give him her phone number if he asked. The woman was exactly his type, including the green eyes and sassy attitude. Two weeks ago he would have flirted with the lady, but he missed Abby, plain and simple.
He inhaled deeply and let it out slowly. His vibrating phone said he had a text message. Hoping it was from Abby, he hurriedly unbuttoned his pocket to get at it, but the picture that came up was Rusty.
Come by the bunkhouse when you get home.
Cooper replied: At Fuzzy’s eating tacos. What’s up?
The reply: We need to talk in person. See you in a couple of hours.