Page 16 of Coming Home Country
“It’s not like he’s going away. I’m going to have to deal with him all week, so it’s better if I wrap my head around it now. Besides, I don’t want to be the one responsible for keeping Tripp and Penny apart. But if a trip up the aisle together isn’t enough to spark that relationship, they might be beyond our help.”
“Ugh.” Her head dropped back on a groan. “Why is it so freaking hard for those two?” She held out one hand. “He loves her.” Then came the other hand. “She loves him.” Both palms clapped together. “It should be the simplest thing in the world. I will never understand why they haven’t ridden off into the sunset and aren’t surrounded by a bunch of adorable babies by now.”
Having been ripped apart from my soulmate and forced to continue on without him, I wouldn’t wish that on my worst enemy, let alone Tripp and Penny.
All we could do was hold onto the faith that, someday, they’d figure it out. They were too perfect together not to.
I tilted my head toward the church. “We should probably get the guest of honor back inside. This whole thing kinda falls apart without the bride.”
She looped her arm around mine, and we marched together to the side door I’d escaped through, but not before awareness prickled, and Ilocked eyes with Tucker from where he stood, leaning against a tree in the courtyard.
His blue eyes might be filled with questions, but I was the one who deserved answers.
“Bex, make sure you stop by all the tables and greet the guests.”
Already in enough trouble, I stifled the groan begging to be released. “Mama, this is Aspen’s shower. These areherguests.”
The stern look she gave me made it clear that it had been a mistake to argue instead of carrying out a task when asked.
Tugging me to a corner of the room, she lowered her voice to a near hiss. “I’ll not have you forgettin’ that this town raised you.” That, they had, pitching in to help Mama out after my daddy passed. “They may have come to celebrate Aspen, but I’ll not have you leaving them with the impression that your time in the city means you’re too good for your roots, your community. So I expect you to make the rounds, catching up with all the people you left behind when you ran away.”
Her voice broke on that final sentence, and guilt hit me like a sledgehammer to the chest. Blinded by pain, I hadn’t stopped to think how my actions might hurt others. One day, my mama’s only child had plans to settle in Rust Canyon and raise a family; the next, she was gone, vowing never to return.
I wondered if on the many nights I’d stayed awake, crying over a broken heart, my mother had done the same. I could blame Tucker all I wantedfor driving me away, but I made a conscious choice to stay away, lacking the courage to set foot in town, even to visit my mama.
Her tears were on me, no one else.
Swallowing around the lump formed in my throat, I croaked out, “I’ll greet the guests.”
Brown eyes softening, she cupped my cheek. “There’s my girl.”
Never let it be said that I wasn’t proud to be Rose Crawford’s daughter. She was a pillar of this community and had devoted her entire life to serving it in any capacity needed. She’d started a Christmas charity drive for families who were struggling around the holidays so their children would have toys to open and they would have some financial support during a difficult time. She drove hot meals to the senior citizens who were homebound. She made a quilt for every baby born to a Rust Canyon family, and I knew for a fact that every mother in town treasured her handmade creations. She helped Aspen’s mom, Daisy, organize school pageants, where she always volunteered to play the piano to accompany the children’s singing.
That was merely the tip of the iceberg. She touched every facet of what made this place a home that most people never wanted to leave. Rust Canyon might only boast six hundred residents—where everyone knew each other by name—but I had no doubt that if it were five or ten thousand instead, she would still make an impact on every single one.
Working my way around the room, I chatted with the ladies who had come to shower well-wishes upon Aspen as she embarked on this new phase of life. My memory clicked, and names flooded back instantly, saving my mama from further embarrassment at my hand.
When I reached the head table, Aspen’s meemaw, Betsy, held her arms out from her chair. “Come here, girl. Let me take good look at what the city’s done to you.”
I ventured closer, letting her place hands that trembled due to age on my face. She turned my head from side to side, humming as she did so. “Too much makeup. Somethin’ wrong with the way God made you?”
“No, ma’am.” I dropped my gaze, heat burning a path up my neck.
Betsy clicked her tongue and released her hold, allowing me to step back. “Let’s see if coming home country does the same for you as it did for Aspen.”
For Aspen, that had meant coming home for good.
I opened my mouth to protest but slammed it shut quickly. I didn’t have the heart to tell this woman that under no circumstances would I ever settle down in Rust Canyon.
She pursed her lips, assessing me. “A little time away isn’t a bad thing, darlin’. Because when you come back, you remember where you belong.”
In another life, maybe. But not in this one.
Aspen’s mom, Daisy, offered me a knowing smile as she placed a hand on her mother-in-law’s shoulder. “Best we let Bex keep moving.”
Betsy grumbled something about being surrounded by young fools who wouldn’t know what was good for them if it smacked them upside the head, and I took that as my cue to move on.
Turning around, I focused on the next table but froze when I landed on a set of blue eyes, identical to the ones that had watched me re-enter the church after my mini breakdown.
