by Liz Isaacson
“Sure,” Dwayne said.
“Great.” Micah took out the clipboard and a pen. “Ready whenever you are.” He smiled at the two of them, and they smiled back.
“All right,” Dwayne said. “I hate how this front room is separated from the back of the house. We never use it, because the kitchen is back there.” He started toward the kitchen, which was under an arched doorway and down a short hall.
“What’s this?” Micah asked, pointing to the door in the hallway.
“The half bath,” Felicity said.
Micah made a note and kept walking.
“And back here, we have a tiny living room, but this is where we all end up,” Dwayne said. “Because this is where the kitchen is, and where everyone wants to be.”
Micah entered the space, and he saw immediately what Dwayne wanted. He held up his phone and took a measurement. “I’m going to measure some things,” he said. “Then I can give you a more detailed idea of what you can do.” He stepped around and took several measurements with the app he’d bought just for such a thing. “It saves it all for me, so I can import it into my computer and see your floor plan with just a few clicks.”
“Wow,” Dwayne said. “That’s pretty cool.”
“It is,” Micah said, because it was. He smiled at them again. “What’s here?” He indicated the wall they’d had to pass by to get from the front to the back, opposite of the bathroom.
“That’s the pantry for the kitchen,” Dwayne said, stepping around the corner and opening some folded closet doors.
“Oh, we can fix that,” Micah said, making a note. He followed Dwayne and Felicity through the rest of the house, which was pretty big. Plenty big for two children. Plenty big for six children.
He did the same thing as they walked through the second house in the backyard, and Micah’s head felt full to bursting by the time they were done. “Okay,” he said. “And we have a budget?”
“No,” Dwayne said. “I just want you to operate as if we don’t have a budget.” He exchanged a glance with Felicity, who nodded.
“All right,” Micah said, his stomach growling. Grandma Lucy had fed them breakfast a mighty long time ago.
“You should stay for dinner,” Felicity said, having clearly heard him.
“Oh, I’m fine,” Micah said. “I have a long drive back to Three Rivers today.” He smiled at them.
“Kurt has food,” Dwayne said. “We can eat now, and you can go.”
Micah didn’t want to say no. He liked this ranch, the vibe here, these people. “Who’s Kurt?” he asked.
Dwayne smiled. “My foreman. He lives out in the cabin community. Come see.” He stepped over to the back door, and Micah went with him. As he ate with a whole crew of cowboys, wives, and children, Micah thought Grape Seed Ranch was a lot like Seven Sons.
When he got back in the rental truck, he took a moment to put his clipboard away and bow his head. “Thank you, Lord,” he whispered. “Help me get home safely, and bless me that I can work on this ranch.”
You should fly home. The thought popped into his head, and Micah tried to push it away. But it wouldn’t go, even when he’d left the ranch and started down the highway that led north, back toward the Texas Panhandle.
He saw a sign for Austin, and without second guessing himself again, he veered toward the road that went that way. If he had the impression he was supposed to fly home, he should fly home.
It seemed to take forever to get to Austin, and he hurried to buy a ticket for the last plane leaving for Amarillo that day. Finally on the airplane, Micah sighed and texted Simone. I’m flying to Amarillo instead of driving. Do you think you could come pick me up?
His phone rang, and since they hadn’t pushed back from the gate yet, he answered the phone.
“You’re on a plane?” she demanded, her voice shrill.
“Yes,” he said. “Is that okay? I can ask Skyler to come get me.”
“No, it’s fine,” she said, sobbing in the next moment. “He’s on a plane. He’s not on the road.”
“Simone?” Micah didn’t know what was going on or who she was talking to.
“There’s been a huge accident on the road about fifty miles north of Grape Seed Falls,” she said, sniffling. “I called you, but you didn’t answer, and I was scared.”
“I was on some back road between there and Austin,” he said. “Maybe I lost service.”
“You’re okay,” she said. “That’s all that matters.”
“Yeah,” he said, thinking of the thought to fly instead of drive. “I should be home in an hour or so.” The plane moved, and he added, “I love you, baby, but I have to go. We’re taking off.”
“Okay, love you. I’ll send Skyler to the airport. I’ve had a rough day.”
“Oh, I’m sorry,” he said. “And okay.” He hated hanging up while his wife was crying, but the flight attendant said, “Sir.”
He held up his hand and said, “Love you,” and hung up. He couldn’t wait to get home to Simone, and he leaned his head back and offered up a prayer that she’d be feeling better when he arrived.
“This place is great,” Simone said as they entered Tripp’s new house. “Look at these old floors, Micah. They’re beautiful.”
“They are,” he said, studying everything in the older, two-story home his brother had bought on the same lane where Rhett and Evelyn lived. He knew he was more interested than most men, so when Ivory volunteered to take everyone around on a house tour, he went with. He wanted to see the wainscoting in the dining room, the ceiling fans in the bedroom, the crown molding in the kitchen.
“It’s smaller,” Ivory said, bringing them all back into the family room. “But it’s good for us. And look, there’s room for everyone.”
Micah sat in a straight-backed chair someone had brought in from the kitchen table, so he wasn’t sure about that. But the seating arrangements were doable for a birthday party that would likely break up and expand into the kitchen, and then outside to the huge deck at the back of the house.
“Welcome, everyone,” Tripp said, beaming out at them all. “First, we want to say welcome to Grandma Lucy and Grandpa Jerry. It’s your first family party.”
“Probably be their last,” someone said.
“Nah,” Liam said. “They’ll just turn down their hearing aids and they’ll be good.”
“Wish I had hearing aids,” Skyler said, grinning. Several people laughed then, and Tripp held up his hand to stop the group from snowballing into chaos.
“We have a lot of July birthdays, and we’re going to sing to Isaac, JJ, and Warren. Then we have a picnic planned, and we can hang out here, over in the kitchen, or outside. We have the shade up, and the house came with misters, so it’s not terrible out there.”
Micah thought it would still be terrible, but he didn’t say so. He sang happy birthday to the little ones and watched as they each opened a few presents. Conrad tried to take one of Isaac’s toy cars from him, and a small scuffle ensued, which ended in Rhett getting up and taking his son away from the party for a minute.
“He’s gotten bad about grabbing things,” he explained from the mouth of the hallway, where he’d sat the boy further down and told him to stay.
“Oh, he’s just a baby himself,” Momma said. “I can’t stand to hear him cry.”
“He’s fine, Momma,” Rhett said, folding his arms and looking down the hallway. Momma’s anxiety touched Micah’s heart, but she didn’t get up and go try to rescue Conrad. A few minutes later, Rhett went to get him, and he brought the tearful boy back to the party and made him apologize to Isaac.
Isaac didn’t even seem to know what had happened, but Conrad hugged him—nearly choking him—and asked, “I play cars?” He squatted down right in front of Isaac, both hands on his knees, his want for that toy car palpable. Micah wanted to get up and get it for him. Heck, he’d buy him a whole chest of them, because Conrad was the cutest little boy on the planet.
Ivory said, “Isaac, you say �
��yes.’ We share.” She gently took the car from him and gave it to Conrad. Isaac looked at the car, and looked at Conrad, and looked at his mother. Ivory smiled and nodded and said, “Yes. You play with Conrad. Share with him.”
“Share,” Isaac said, and he picked up another toy, this one a truck.
“I’ve got hamburgers and hot dogs ready to go,” Tripp said, and Micah got up.
“That’s my cue,” he said. “Who wants to eat with Uncle Micah?”
“I do!” Denise cried out, scrambling to get to her feet. “Can I have a hot dog, Uncle Micah?”
“Sure thing, sweets.” He grinned at her and extended his hand for her to take.
“Come with me, Mom,” Momma said, helping Grandma Lucy to her feet. “You have to get in the front of the line with these boys or there won’t be any food left.”
“You can go in front of me, Grandma,” Micah said, smiling at her.
“Wait,” Wyatt roared. “We’re not doing announcements?”
“We don’t need to do announcements at every blasted family function,” Jeremiah said.
“Yeah, but we should,” Skyler said. “There’s a lot of us.”
“Send a text,” Jeremiah argued back.
“You think I should’ve just texted y’all that I’d gotten married?”
“Boys,” Momma said.
“I’m just saying the announcements have gotten out of hand.”
“I agree with Jeremiah,” Liam said.
Micah didn’t care much. If someone had an announcement they wanted to make, why couldn’t they?
“The food is hot now,” Liam continued. “If we do announcements, then there’s all this congratulating.”
“Oh, heaven forbid we celebrate something,” Whitney said. “Life is hard enough. Shouldn’t we be glad we can congratulate someone on something?”
“Boys,” Momma said again.
“I agree with Whitney,” Ivory said. She stood up and got up on one of the chairs. “Okay, enough.” She waved her hands, and everyone quieted down. “It’s our house, and our rules. Who has an announcement?” She scanned the crowd, and Micah met Simone’s eye. She shook her head, and he casually looked away. She was still very early in her pregnancy, and he understood her desire to wait.
“Wyatt?”
“Yeah, but now I feel stupid,” he said, glancing around.
“Just say it,” Jeremiah said. “Or I will, because I bet we all know what it is.”
“You know what?” Wyatt asked, clearly angry now. “You’re being a jerk.” He bent and picked up Warren. “I can get a hamburger on the way back to my place.”
“Wyatt,” Marcy said after him, but Wyatt started for the front door and left. Actually left. Marcy looked like she might cry, and Mal stepped over to her and put her arm around her. “Sorry,” Marcy said, her bottom lip quivering. “It was a great party, Ivory.” She picked up her diaper bag and purse and followed her husband.
“Jeremiah,” Whitney said, her face growing redder by the second. “You go apologize right now.”
Jeremiah had the decency to look ashamed. He stood up and held up both hands. “I’m sorry, everyone. He’s right.” He went after Marcy and Wyatt too, and Micah didn’t think he’d ever heard his family be so quiet and so still—at least outside of a church.
“What’s going on?” Grandpa Jerry asked, turning to face everyone. “I turned down my hearing aids, and I think I missed something.”
Micah tried to hold back the laughter, but he couldn’t. It came out, first as a snort and then as a big, full, belly laugh. Others joined in, and the tension in the house broke. He took Denise to get her hot dog, and he kept a close eye on the front door. Neither Wyatt nor Jeremiah ever did come back to the party, and Micah worried about both of them.
He finally decided to text Wyatt. Hey, can I come sit with you in the hot tub this week?
His brother didn’t answer for the longest time, and that only made Micah’s stomach squirm even more. When he was full of cake, and Simone looked like she might fall asleep right there on Ivory’s couch, he said, “Let’s go, sweetheart. I’m going to take you home, and then I’m going to go visit Wyatt.”
They said their goodbyes, and there were a lot of people to hug and thank. Finally outside, Micah helped Simone into the truck and took her home. He’d just kissed her on the forehead as she lay in bed, her eyes already closed, when his phone chimed.
His heart leapt as he read Wyatt’s text. I’m okay, he’d said. Sorry I got mad and made everything awkward.
Not on you, bro, Micah sent back. Jeremiah was being a jerk.
He carries a lot of responsibility, Wyatt sent back.
So do all of us. Micah wasn’t going to let his brother off that easy. Heck, Rhett had four children under the age of three. Jeremiah and Whitney had two kids—and they’d chosen to have them close together. Micah was supposed to just give him a pass because he was tired? Because he had the wife and family he’d always wanted?
Micah was tired too. So was Wyatt. They could all name something plaguing them, and none of them had practically made an announcement that wasn’t theirs to make.
I embarrassed Marcy, Wyatt said. I feel so stupid.
Micah didn’t know how to make this better for his brother. Out of all of them, Wyatt was the biggest, the strongest, the best. He always had been. But he’d also come with the biggest, strongest, and best heart. He didn’t deserve to be belittled and made to feel stupid.
He tapped the phone icon and lifted his phone to his ear. “Hey,” Wyatt said, and the word dripped with misery.
“Hey,” Micah said, realizing he still hadn’t left the bedroom. He glanced at Simone and hurried out, closing the door behind him. “Tell Marcy congratulations. You don’t need to make a big announcement for it to be big news.”
Wyatt didn’t say anything, and Micah just nodded to himself. “Love you, brother. I can come sit with you if you want. Grab a dog from the ranch and come up.”
“Nah,” Wyatt said, his voice a bit thick. “I’m okay. Marcy’s asleep with her head in my lap, and…I’m okay.”
“Okay,” Micah said. “I’m a text away.”
“Thank you, Micah.” Wyatt almost whispered the words, and the call ended. Micah stood still for a moment, trying to find that inner voice that told him what to do. Go talk to Jeremiah? Find out why he was so angry again? Or leave it alone?
Leave it alone.
Satisfied, Micah went down the opposite hall to his office, where he could work on the plans for Grape Seed Ranch.
Chapter Twenty-Six
Jeremiah knew he’d messed up. Regret lanced through him with the strength and pain of a white-hot blade, and he wished he could go back in time and fix things. Whitney rode in the truck with him, her silence the worst of all.
He’d apologized to Wyatt as the man sat in his truck in Tripp’s driveway. He wouldn’t get out, and Jeremiah understood why. He and Marcy had left a few minutes later, and Jeremiah couldn’t face the family again. So Whitney had brought the kids out, and they were almost back to the ranch.
Jeremiah wanted to disappear out to the stables, where he could gripe to the horses, and they wouldn’t judge him. But he knew that wasn’t helpful. He’d been doing it for months, and while he loved his equines, they weren’t the kind of therapy he needed.
His stomach clenched, which caused his throat to tighten, which made his fingers strangle the steering wheel. He’d felt like this before in his life, and he could pinpoint exactly when.
When Laura Ann had left him at the altar.
He wasn’t sure why he had to deal with these feelings of failure and anger again. They felt like a curse from God Jeremiah would have to wrestle with for his entire life.
Start the match then, he told himself.
“I’m sorry,” Jeremiah said, glancing at Whitney. “Talk to me, please. I’m sorry.”
She turned her head toward him, and it seemed to happen in slow motion. He loved her so much, and he could
not lose her. But the truth was, they’d been drifting apart for months now—since his anger and personal failings had started to infect him again.
“I’m sorry,” he said again. “I feel like I’m doing the best I can, but I know it’s not good enough. I’m…angry. I’m angry all the time. Something easy like a rope being hung on the peg the wrong way sends me into a rage.” His throat closed, and he shook his head. She deserved so much better than him.
He’d been better in the past.
“What are you mad about?” she asked.
“I don’t know,” he said. “It makes no sense. I don’t have anything to be angry about. It’s stupid. I know it is.” He turned onto the road that led back to Seven Sons. “I need to go back to therapy.”
“I think that’s a good first step,” she said as he reached to press the button to open the garage door. It started to lift at the same time Clara Jean started to fuss. Whitney turned to look at her, and Jeremiah knew something else he could do.
“Will you go out with me?” he asked. Whitney looked at him, surprise on her face.
“What?”
“Without the kids,” he said. “Just me and you, the way we used to. Let’s take the dogs hiking. Or go to Wilde & Organic and you can pick out random ingredients and I’ll see what I can make for dinner.” He smiled at her as he came to a stop in the garage. “Remember how that used to be one of our date nights?”
Whitney smiled, and though it was slow as it spread her lips, it was there. “Yeah,” she said. “That was fun.”
“I love the kids,” Jeremiah said. “I really love them. I feel guilty leaving you home with them all day. And then when I’m home, I’m tired and stressed, and I’m annoyed at them for being kids.” The words just streamed from him now. “And then I feel guilty that I’m not enjoying them for who they are, and for how old they are. I know I’m not paying attention to you enough, and I know I don’t provide the adult conversation you need.”
He pressed his lips together and switched his gaze out the windshield, because he was about to cry. And Jeremiah Walker did not cry. He worked through the problem. He made things right. He got the help he needed.
