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A Nice Day for a Cowboy Wedding

Page 25

by Nicole Helm


  So, he had to wait.

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Cora felt like she hadn’t been home in years instead of a few days. As she turned the key and pushed the door open, she tried not to think about everything that had changed.

  Everything.

  She let Micah walk inside on his own power, and tried very hard not to hover. She could tell Lilly was trying very hard not to do the same.

  “Go home, Lil.”

  “Don’t you need help?”

  “Not right now. I’ll get him settled. He’ll probably take a nap. If he gets too antsy, I’ll give him his video games. You have two babies who need their mama. This baby has flown the nest.”

  Lilly pulled her into a hard hug. “Expertly. Now listen, if you need anything we’re all here to help. And before you say you don’t need help, I just meant if you want it. You need an hour to yourself, or want us to run an errand or whatever. Help because we love both of you and want to be of some use to you.”

  Somehow those words struck Cora all wrong, reminding her of Shane when she shouldn’t be thinking about him at all. She’d made her decision. For her and Micah. No more Shane thoughts.

  “I’ll be sure to let you know,” she said to Lilly, fairly pushing her sister out the door, since it’d be the only way she left.

  Once she got Lilly gone, Cora turned to the living room. Micah had sprawled out on the couch and was already turning on the TV. She’d give him another few days of laziness before she started poking him to do something requiring a little more brainpower.

  The doctor had said Micah might still be sluggish for a day or two, but then he’d probably bounce back. Aside from his arm, which would take weeks to heal. Cora tried not to think too hard about the timeline.

  “You want a blanket?” she asked, brushing her fingertips across the top of his head.

  “Nah.”

  “You want the blanket?”

  Micah eyed her, then slid his gaze to the TV and shrugged. Cora smiled in spite of her exhaustion. She went to the closet and dug out Micah’s old safety blanket. It was ratty and so worn she couldn’t even see the pattern anymore, which was probably for the best considering it had been a Noah’s ark pattern, the baby animals something Micah would most definitely not appreciate now.

  She placed it over Micah’s shoulder of his bad arm. He didn’t move except for the tips of his fingers wiggling till he touched the edge of the fabric.

  “You hungry?”

  “Yeah. Pizza rolls?” he asked hopefully.

  “And broccoli?”

  “I broke my arm.”

  “Doing something you weren’t supposed to do. Broccoli for pizza rolls.”

  “Fine,” he grumbled, trying to get comfortable on the couch as he flipped channels. “Mom . . . How come Shane hasn’t been around?”

  “Oh, well.” Cora blinked. She hadn’t expected Micah to bring it up. She wasn’t ready to get into it yet. Maybe when he was better. She went to the kitchen to make the pizza rolls. “I’m sure you’ll see him next time you go to the ranch. Do you want some water?”

  “But why isn’t he here?” Micah persisted.

  “I . . .” Okay, so maybe she had to discuss this right now.

  “I ruined it, didn’t I? I told, and I ruined it. He said I didn’t, but he’s not here.”

  “No. No. Nothing . . . Nothing is ruined,” Cora said, and she knew she was completely unconvincing, standing in the kitchen giving him no actual details.

  “He’s not here, and he said . . .” Micah struggled into a sitting position on the couch so he could look over the back at her in the kitchen. “Mom, you have to tell me what’s going on.”

  “Okay.” Okay, she could do that. Somehow. “I just . . .” She couldn’t think of what to say. Because, well, things had changed because Micah had told. Which wasn’t his fault, but he’d think it was. How could he not?

  She walked over to the couch, slowly. Really slowly, not because she was drawing out the inevitable, but because she was buying time to figure out what to say.

  If she told him . . . If she told him the truth, she was afraid he’d apply it to himself. That he wouldn’t want to tell anyone about his past.

  But he hadn’t been in charge. He hadn’t been the adult. He hadn’t let it happen. How on earth did she explain that to a twelve-year-old?

  “Mom, come on.”

  She perched herself on the edge of the couch. “It’s just adult stuff, honey.” That was a good enough answer, surely. “Nothing to do with you.”

  “Except everything was fine until I told him.”

  “Micah, that isn’t true exactly, but . . . Separately, aside from anything with Shane and me, why did you tell him? After I promised I wouldn’t. I don’t understand.”

  Micah’s eyebrows drew together, his blue eyes a maze of emotions. The kind so complicated she wasn’t sure she’d ever fully be able to untangle them.

  “You know what, never mind. Maybe this is a conversation we have with Dr. Grove later, but—”

  “Mom. I was scared.”

  “Scared of what?”

  “When I was with Shane . . . he was always like . . . Dr. Grove keeps telling me I can have my feelings on the inside, but when they turn into outside actions, I need to say them to you.”

  He sounded so adult, talking about a therapist’s coping mechanisms, and yet he was still such a boy. Her little boy working through this horrible thing.

  “So, the thing was, being with Shane . . . He’s like a real dad. Like my friends’ dads. He says no and gives advice and stuff. And I wanted . . . I just wanted him to be my dad, but he’s not. And I just felt sick all the time.”

  Micah clutched his blanket, looking down at it, and Cora understood, maybe a little too well, what he meant. That horrible feeling that all this good would come to an end. With Shane, she’d let some of that go—before the broken arm fiasco—but Micah wasn’t at that point yet.

  “Sick that I wanted him to be that, that he couldn’t be. I wanted to stop feeling that way so I . . . I thought I’d ruin it. I’d tell him, and, well, I knew he wouldn’t boot us out, but I figured you’d stop being with him, and it’d all go back to being the way it was before. But it’s not. It’s worse.”

  “Baby.” She said it on a gasp, but she wasn’t sure Micah paid her any mind. He was babbling ahead, and she was still reeling.

  Like a dad.

  “But we can make it better. Shane, he knew, and he never acted different. He even said I’d have to do some sucking up to you before I get back on a horse. And that I’d learned my lesson. He didn’t . . . Nothing was different. So, it can be okay.” Micah looked up at her hopefully.

  Why did she have to keep disappointing her baby? “Micah, it isn’t so simple. Because relationships, when you’re an adult, it’s all different. It’s hard, and it’s complicated. It’s even hard and complicated to explain, let alone deal with.”

  “But you said you loved him, and he loved you, and he didn’t treat us differently. He didn’t. . . . Brandon and Will and Sam . . . I . . .” Micah ducked his head. “I love them and all, but they don’t slap me on the back or push me as a joke. They don’t grab me or anything. And even after I’d told Shane, right after I told him, and we were at the game and they hit that home run and he kind of picked me up and shook me around. It didn’t change. You know?”

  Cora nodded, because she didn’t trust her voice enough to speak. Although nodding was making the tears in her eyes perilously close to falling. Yes, the boys at Mile High were careful with Micah. No roughhousing. She thought it was more for her sake than Micah’s, but she understood what he meant about the difference.

  He got to be physical at the Tyler ranch. A boy. And it hadn’t changed even after Micah had told.

  It hadn’t changed.

  “Mom, we can fix it.”

  We. She would fix anything for Micah, but this wasn’t about her son. It was about her. “I’m so glad things didn’t change for you and Sh
ane. I want you to be able to look up to him and spend time with him. What’s happened with him and me is different, separate. It’s about me.”

  “But he loves you. Like Uncle Brandon loves Aunt Lilly, and Sam loves Hayley, and Will and Tori. They’re all getting married. Sometimes they fight, but you’re always saying people in love fight because that means it matters.”

  “Micah—”

  “Mom . . .” He reached across the couch with his good arm, grabbing onto her hand. “Mom, are you scared? Like me. Because it was good, and I was . . . Sometimes when everything’s going well, I think Dad’ll show up. Like basketball camp. Then I just want to ruin everything, and Dr. Grove said to talk before I act. If you’re scared, you’re supposed to talk before you act. I messed it up, I did it backwards, but you’re an adult and stuff. You can do it the right way.”

  She wanted to refute it. The kid was twelve. How would he know what it felt like to be seen this way? She wasn’t afraid of good. She’d been all settled into it. Happy and ready for a future until those flashing red and white lights.

  And, oh, hadn’t she jumped onto that as a sign awfully quick? Hadn’t she jumped at the chance to make Shane the bad guy. To cut him off before he could prove to her things could still be good.

  But he’d known. All that night before he’d known, and he’d loved her, and Micah was right. Shane hadn’t treated her any differently. Not like she’d break or like he needed to second-guess how she felt or what she wanted.

  But that had been short. So quick. How could she trust it?

  “Dr. Grove says it’s okay to be scared.”

  “I thought you didn’t listen to her at all, and now you’re spouting everything she’s ever said?”

  Micah smiled sheepishly. “She’s okay.”

  Cora laughed a little, even as tears fell over. “I didn’t think I was scared, but what you’re saying makes a lot of sense.”

  “Really?”

  She sniffled, reaching out to touch his sweet face. “Maybe you’ll be a psychologist when you grow up and help people.”

  He jerked away from her hand and shrugged. “I don’t know. Whatever. Maybe. Maybe I want to be in the rodeo like Boone.”

  And maybe I’ll kick Boone’s ass. But she kept that thought to herself.

  “Mom, let’s go to the ranch. If you’re afraid to talk to Shane, I’ll go first, and then you won’t have to be.”

  “Baby, I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

  “So, we can go? We can talk to Shane?”

  She didn’t want to. She practically recoiled from the idea, and that was when it truly hit her just how right Micah had been. How she’d let those old fears swallow up everything she’d been building.

  Not because Shane would treat her differently, but because he might not. Because it might actually be good, and things like Micah’s breaking his arm might not be signs, but accidents no one could control. That she’d never be able to predict. There were bound to be heartache and misunderstandings and loss.

  It was easier to run away from all that than to stand up for it. Easier to hide in her insecurities than to lay them truthfully down. Easier to proactively dismantle a hurt than try to heal a misstep.

  She blew out a breath, her body shaky with too much uncertainty. Too much fear and that horrible, gut-twisting desire to do the right thing, and having no idea what the right thing was.

  But Micah was looking at her expectantly, using all the things he’d learned in therapy. Wanting to talk it out, work it out. How could she say no to him and that?

  “Okay. Okay, let’s go.”

  Micah jumped up, winced a little bit, but it didn’t stop his forward progression to the door. “Just, if you’re going to kiss, can you like let me close my eyes or something?”

  Cora laughed, though it was more nervous laughter. She had a bad feeling none of this was going to end in kissing.

  * * *

  Shane woke with a start to Gavin’s staring down at him. Shane looked around, trying to figure out where the hell he was. A very uncomfortable chair in the barn, in the siblings’ meeting room.

  He didn’t fully remember coming in here, or sitting down, and he really didn’t remember falling asleep.

  “Afternoon, sleeping beauty.”

  “Fuck off,” Shane muttered.

  “Fine, I won’t warn you.”

  “Warn me about what?” Shane muttered, trying to work the kinks out of his neck. Everything hurt, and he didn’t feel any more rested. God knows he hadn’t gotten his work for the morning done. What time was it? Gavin had said afternoon.

  “Saw Cora’s car coming up the drive.”

  Shane was on his feet before the sentence was fully out of Gavin’s mouth. “What?”

  “Probably here by now.”

  Shane took a step toward the door, then stopped himself. Everything about the past few days tumbled into place. “She probably has a meeting with Mom.”

  “Doubt it.”

  “Why do you say that?”

  Gavin gestured out the small window. “Coming this way with Micah. Doesn’t have her fancy wedding planner clothes on.”

  Shane stood there, staring at their impending arrival, trying to work out what he was supposed to do. Mom had said trust and wait and all those other horrible things. Hell.

  “Well, you just going to stand there like an idiot?”

  Shane glared back at Gavin. “Maybe I am.”

  “Come on now. Man up. Get out there.”

  “Hey, how’s Lou doing? You man up there yet?” Shane retorted.

  Gavin flipped him off, but he didn’t storm off or say anything. He nudged Shane out the stables door, so they were face to face with Micah and Cora.

  “Hi,” Cora offered, hands in her pockets, eyes darting from Gavin to Shane.

  “Hi. Hey, how you doing, Micah?” Shane asked, shoving his own hands in his pockets because they wanted to do anything but stay at his sides.

  Micah held up his cast awkwardly. “Kind of lame. Be cooler if it was like an Iron Man arm.”

  Shane chuckled. “Yes, that would probably be cooler.”

  “Hey, kid,” Gavin offered. “I’ve got a chore you can do one-armed, if you’re interested?”

  “Really?” Micah looked up at Cora hopefully.

  She smiled thinly and nodded. “Please be careful.”

  “Awesome.” But Micah’s gaze turned to Shane. “Um, before I go I just wanted to say . . . thanks for the baseball game and everything. It was really fun and I . . . I don’t know. Um.” He scratched his good hand through his shaggy hair.

  Shane knelt down and held out his arms. When Micah hurriedly stepped into them, he knew he’d made the right move. Micah squeezed him with his good arm, and Shane expected that to be it.

  “I’m sorry,” Micah whispered.

  “I already told you there was nothing you had to be sorry for. Accidents happen.”

  “Not about that,” Micah said, still whispering. “I haven’t always been nice to you, and all those things I said in the car, I said because I thought it would make you not want to be with us anymore. Not because I didn’t want you, but because I was afraid to. Because you were like a real dad, not my crappy one, and it was scary to want that. So I did something dumb instead of talk, but that only made things worse. So, I’m sorry.”

  Shane couldn’t speak. He glanced up at Cora helplessly, but she had tears in her eyes, and that was worse.

  So, Shane just hugged Micah fiercely to his chest. “Apology accepted,” he managed to rasp. “I love you, Micah. I want you to know that.”

  “I love you too, Shane.” He wiggled out of Shane’s grasp. “Can I, uh, go see the horses now?” he asked.

  Shane and Cora nodded, and Gavin nodded toward the stables. “Come on, kid,” he said, and even his voice was suspiciously raspy.

  Shane managed to push to his feet, feeling a little more broken and a little more healed all at the same time.

  “Yeah, so, we ha
d to come over after he told me all that,” Cora offered squeakily. She took a deep breath. “And maybe I realized a few things about myself and the past few days when he told me all that too.”

  “Yeah, what kind of things?” Shane asked cautiously. What he wanted was apologies and love and we can work this outs, but Mom had told him to wait. To be patient.

  “Well, I’ve had some very real fear in my life, and I’d finally learned to fight it. To not let it win and make me just give up. But I guess . . . Well, there are different kinds of fears. Ones that are good and natural, like the fear of someone who hurts you, repeatedly.”

  “Cora—”

  “And then there are the fears that something good isn’t for you, and you don’t deserve it. And maybe because part of me knew that was a little warped, or at least I’d been told that’s not right by my therapist, because yes, I have one of those, I told myself I was afraid of you, and how you’d treat me. When in reality, what I was really afraid of was myself. What I thought I didn’t deserve. You never gave me a real reason to fear you, Shane, and it wasn’t fair to put it on you. It’s my own baggage.”

  “You know, maybe I wouldn’t have understood all this if I hadn’t . . . I talked to Mom about what happened with my dad, and she pointed out it wasn’t all that different. Hiding parts of ourselves we don’t like or know what to do with. Fear that’s hidden under the excuses we give ourselves. But whether I understand it or not, I only want to help you carry that baggage. I’ve got enough of my own. I know I can’t take yours away, the same as you can’t take away mine. I wasn’t ever looking to be your savior, Cora. I just want to be your partner.”

  “Like want not . . . wanted?” She looked helplessly at him. “I wasn’t nice.”

  “You don’t always have to be nice. Or good. Or right or wrong. I don’t want to fix you or change you. Sometimes I will want to fix things for you, but you are all I want. Just the way you are. I love you. And I am . . . I will be here whenever you’re ready for that.”

  She chewed on her lip, studying him carefully. “Sometimes I’ll need you to let me take care of things on my own.”

 

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