Chapter 16

Opal set West in his highchair and strapped him in before sliding the tray into place. The little boy immediately started slapping it with his palms and yelling something in Baby only he understood.

"I'm getting it," she told him as she turned back to the kitchen to get his lunch. He'd be one year old soon, and Opal often fed him some of whatever she was eating, but he needed far more fruits and vegetables than what Opal had in her diet.

"You'll be a one-year-old soon," she told him as she picked up the mixture of sweet potatoes and creamy peanut butter. She spread a little on a half a wheat cracker and put it on his tray. West drooled as he went after it, and he got it in his fingers easily enough.

Everything he touched went into his mouth, and he blinked rapidly for a moment as he first tasted the baby-food-peanut-butter concoction.

"It's good, right?" she asked him with a grin. "Okay, now say Opal. O-Pal. Ope. Al." She'd been trying to get him to say her name, but he wasn't interested. He could babble out Mama and Dada, and he loved answering the phone.

He made plenty of other noises with his mouth, including barking for a dog and "ow, ow," for a cat. He buzzed and blew and babbled to himself all day long, and Opal loved him dearly.

"I'm planning a great party for you," she told him. "We'll be live-streaming it for Grandma and Grandpa up in Coral Canyon, but Auntie Jane and Uncle Cord are confirmed to come."

Opal smiled at West and kept talking to him while she fed him the rest of his lunch. The sun shone outside today, but that didn't mean the air held any warmth, and Opal bundled up West and then herself before she took him out the front door.

She liked to get out whenever she could, and West loved being able to see his momma before Opal brought him back for his afternoon nap. She'd been cleared to lift heavier objects after her last appointment just before New Year's, but she'd been advised to take it easy, especially if she felt any pain at all.

So she went down one step at a time and held West's chubby hand as he descended the steps the same way. When he hit the sidewalk in front of the farmhouse, he squealed and started running.

He'd been mobile for a couple of weeks now, and it took all of Opal's patience and willpower not to pick him up. He could fall at any moment, and she told herself everyone deserved a chance to learn.

She drew in a deep breath though it stung the inside of her nose, and she looked up into the clear sky. "Thank you, Lord," she said aloud. "For this beautiful place. For my amazing brother and his equally amazing wife, who let me live with them."

West went the wrong way, and Opal paused her prayer to say, "West, baby, this way." He turned back to her, unconvinced he couldn't run toward the wilds of the ranch instead of toward the barns and stables. Opal extended her hand toward him. "Come on. This way."

He decided she was right, and he came back her way. They meandered toward the barn on the cleared road, as it had snowed again, and this time, it hadn't melted all the way. Opal tucked her hands in her coat pockets, her thoughts wandering away from her gratitude and worries back to West's birthday party.

Then back to her tasks at-hand. As they neared the barn, she said, "I need to find my own place, don't You think? I'd like my own space to take care of. I'd like some privacy."

Opal had lived alone for a few years while she finished her residency in California, and she did need to feel responsible for her own space again. But she couldn't imagine living an hour from Gerty and Mike and West—and Tag.

Apparently, Keith's fiancée had a farm she wanted to sell before she got married. She and Keith were looking for somewhere closer to where they'd both work, and Mike had suggested Opal look at the hobby farm.

She'd looked it up online and nothing more. It sat an hour from this farm, and Opal didn't want to be that far away. And she didn't necessarily want a hobby farm. A nice house in a small town would be enough. Most of the lots provided enough space for a big lawn and a vegetable garden, as Opal was keen to try her hand at growing carrots, peas, and cabbages this summer.

But she didn't need to have eighty acres the way Gerty did, and she didn't even want it. She'd started looking at houses in Ivory Peaks, Cherry Creek, Willow Springs, or Glendale. They were all within a half-hour of Gerty and Mike, and if Opal could find somewhere in the middle, she could be that close to Jane and Cord too.

"Of course," she murmured while keeping an eye on West while he toddled over to a pile of snow. "Jane's considering moving too."

They still lived in the gated community about halfway between the farm and downtown, as that was where Hunter had lived with his family for all the years he ran HMC as the CEO. But Cord's shop was in Cherry Creek, so they wouldn't go too far from that.

"I just need to figure out where I fit," Opal said. "Where I belong."

Gerty opened the barn doors then, for she knew to come outside if it wasn't raining or snowing to see her son, and she dropped into a crouch as she said, "Hey, baby."

West squealed and ran toward her, exclaiming how excited he was to see his momma without using English words. Gerty scooped him up into her arms, gave him several fluttery kisses all over his face, and stood.

"I'm going to leave the rest of the day to Tag and Steele," she said to Opal. "So you're off the hook for this afternoon's babysitting too."

"Okay," Opal said easily. "I think I'm going to do some drive-bys of a few places. Just to see the curb appeal, you know?"

Gerty's joviality disappeared. "You are?"

"Yeah." Opal tried to smile at her, but Gerty wasn't receiving it. In fact, she dropped her gaze to West, completely avoiding Opal's gaze. "It's a pretty day, and I need to run to the grocery store anyway."

"What are you doing for dinner? Are you and Tag going out?"

Opal shook her head. "Staying here. He's going to build a fire in his backyard, and he claims he has a way to blow the heat back toward the porch, where we're going to put the purple couch and eat dinner and watch a movie on his computer."

It wasn't the most romantic thing Opal could imagine, but she'd been on plenty of dates to fancy restaurants and big-city events. She didn't need that anymore; she wanted someone who thought of her and what she wanted, and Tag knew she loved the flickering flames of a fire—but he didn't have a fireplace indoors.

"Ah, that's why I saw him carting that blow-up thing past the walking circle earlier." Gerty grinned. "Okay, we'll talk later then."

"Okay." Opal stepped into her and gave both her and West a squishy hug. He protested in his baby voice, and Opal smiled as she stepped away.

She did spend some time that afternoon driving past houses, but nothing lit a bulb in her heart, mind, or soul, and she returned to the farm with everything she needed to make pistachio crisps.

She barely had time to do that and get ready for her date, and she would've been late climbing the steps to Tag's front porch if Gerty hadn't finished the last batch for her. As it was, she arrived armed with the treats she'd promised Tag, and she wondered how she'd have done it if she'd babysat West as she'd planned on.

Didn't matter. She'd made it, and she raised her hand to knock.

"Come in," Tag called from inside, and Opal did that without second-guessing herself.

"Oh, it smells good in here," she said as she entered.

"Did you walk?"

"Yeah," she said.

"Honey, it's too cold to walk in the dark."

Opal handed him the plastic container of crisps and started to shed her coat. Tag took it from her and draped it over the back of his couch. He smiled at her and easily put one hand on her lower back and drew her close, then closer.

"Mm, you smell nice."

"Sugar and spice," she managed to say before he stole her words with his kiss. "Mm."

"You hungry?" he whispered.

"Yes," she said. "I ate crackers and peanut butter for lunch." Hours and hours ago.

"I think everything is pretty close," he said. "Do you want to bring your coat outside?"

"Am I going to need it?"

"I stocked the couch with blankets," he said, his gaze sliding down to her feet. "You got the memo about warm boots."

Opal looked at the black, fur-lined boots on her feet too. "Let's try it without a coat."

He took her hand and said, "Come on, Boots. You can come outside too." Tag led her outside, and Opal expected to be punched in the lungs with the cold the way she had been when she'd first left the farmhouse.

But, somehow, Tag had delivered on his promise. The back porch wasn't huge, and it sat only four steps above the yard, where she'd climbed eight or nine steps to get to the front porch. A glorious, flickering fire sat a few feet from the bottom of the steps, so Tag could still go down and maneuver around it.

The heat rose up, and he'd attached something Opal couldn't identify to extend the roof over the back porch. It caught the heat, and cycled it back toward the purple couch, where a black-and-copper blanket waited alongside a cow print one.

On the other side of the back door, Tag had set up a simple folding table, and he'd already laid down a stack of potholders, plates, silverware, and serving utensils.

"Have a seat, honeybear," he said. "I'll get dinner for you." He went down to the fire while Opal pulled the thick, silky-furry checkered blanket over her lap. She wore a black sweater, so her arms weren't bare, and she was still shocked she didn't need a coat.

Tag brought up one Dutch oven, and then a second, and Opal simply enjoyed the slow evening where he took care of her. "All right," he said a few minutes later. "Barbecue chicken and Dutch oven potatoes."

Opal blinked away from the dancing fire and focused on the plate Tag held out for her. Everything steamed and the scent of tangy barbecue sauce mixed with melted cheese and salt. She swallowed the sudden saliva in her mouth. "Wow," she said. "Tag, this looks amazing."

"My daddy taught me to cook in a Dutch oven." He returned to the table to fix himself a plate. "I'm better over fire than I am in the kitchen."

"Why have I never known this?" She looked up at him as he took his place on the blow-up couch. It bounced with his extra weight, and she reached for his plate so he could pull the other blanket up and around his legs and hips.

He took his plate back with a smile and asked, "Do you want me to say a prayer?"

They had not prayed over other meals together, unless they were with a big group. Opal suddenly felt shy, like she couldn't speak the innermost feelings of her heart in front of him. Or that if he did, something would shift in their relationship.

"Yes," she whispered anyway.

"Okay." Tag balanced his food on a pile of his blanket and removed his cowboy hat. He pressed it against his chest as he lowered his head in respect to God. "Lord."

He didn't say anything else, and Opal absolutely felt everything between them shift. Tag's emotions swirled with the heat waves being cycled onto the porch, and Opal wanted to reach out and touch him, absorb some of what he felt so she'd know what it was.

She did, sliding her fingers along his arm and to his hand. He dropped it from his cowboy hat and continued with, "We're really thankful to be together tonight."

He paused again, and Opal wanted to say, "Amen," to that. She was grateful and glad to be with Tag in such a simple environment. She'd liked other men before. She'd dated them for a lot longer than she'd been seeing Tag.

But something about their relationship felt old, too, like they'd known one another for a lot longer than they had. As Opal waited in this serene space for Tag to continue his prayer, she definitely liked Tag more than anyone else she'd ever dated.

She liked him a lot.

A lot, a lot.

She liked him so much it started to feel like…love.

"Thank you for a clear day," Tag said next, his voice about half the volume it had been before. "Bless us to have a good dinner tonight, and bless Opal to find a house she'll be really happy in for a long time. Bless everyone on this farm with what they need to be healthy and happy, especially Kyle as he continues to recover from his latest cold. Help us to take care of each other and those around us who need it. Amen."

"Amen," Opal murmured, and she pulled her hand away from his. He reset his hat and wouldn't look at her.

She picked up the fork on her plate and went for the potatoes first. They held a smokiness that only came from bacon, and her taste buds started rejoicing before she'd even taken a bite. When she did get the food in her mouth, she moaned at its deliciousness.

Tag chuckled, but he didn't ask if she liked it. She obviously did.

"Have you always gone to church, Tag?" she asked.

"Mostly," he said. "My parents were pretty active growing up. My mama praises Jesus for everything." He grinned at her. "I know you grew up religious."

"Yeah," she said, getting another forkful of food as she looked at the tips of the flames down below. "I feel like I've come and gone in my faith."

"Come and gone?" He spoke in a calm, easy voice, without any judgment at all.

"Yeah," she said. "Don't you have, I don't know, seasons? Times when you're really faithful, and you go to church every week, and you're reading the scriptures, and you're trying to serve others. And other times, where you're…not."

"I suppose so, yeah," he drawled.

"I barely went to church when I was in medical school," Opal said. "There was no time." She let her memories of what felt like a long time ago stream through her. "I was constantly tired. I didn't pray, didn't study, didn't read anything for my soul."

She looked over to him. "In some ways, I thought I was freer." She went back to her dinner, wondering why she'd started thinking about this tonight. Why she'd asked him this. "Every now and then, I'd get these little pinches from heaven. A reminder that I wasn't alone, and that Jesus wanted me to come back."

"Did you?" he asked.

She shook her head. "Slowly. Finally, God shouted at me to leave my job and come here." She gave him a sly smile. "Not sure if you know, but I can be pretty stubborn, and I resisted Him for a while. Months, actually."

"And yet, here you are."

"Here I am." She finally tried the chicken, which made her mouth sing and her heart happy. "This is so good, Tag."

"Thank you." He let a beat go by. "So you finally listened?"

"Yes," she said. "And now, God is telling me I need my own place, but there's nothing out there for me. It's confusing." She let out a little sigh, but she wanted tonight to be perfect. "What about you?" she asked, trying to perk up her voice. "Do you want your own place someday? Your own horses? A boarding stable? A farm?"

Tag didn't answer right away, and Opal ate a couple of bites of chicken before she looked over to him. "Ah, I see the answer on your face." The firelight flickered against his fine features, making Tag twice as handsome as he already was.

"I think about it," he said.

"Lindsay Lewis is selling her hobby farm," she said. "Might be of interest to you."

"Hobby farms don't make much money," Tag said. "We're not all married to CEOs and billionaires."

Opal jerked her head up, her heart suddenly pounding, pounding, pounding. "Billionaires?"

"Or whatever," Tag said. "I'm just saying, Gerty doesn't need the farm to make any money. They're already really rich."

"Mm." Opal found a piece of bacon to go with her last bite of potatoes, and she filled her mouth with it, so she wouldn't blurt out that she was a billionaire too. But the food got swallowed, and Tag still hadn't moved the conversation to something else.

"Tag, do you know anything about, uh, Mike's, uh—my family background?"

He looked at her, interest streaming through his eyes now. "What do you mean?"

"My daddy ran HMC for decades," she said. "It's called Hammond Manufacturing Company."

"Yeah," he said slowly. "Are you asking me if I know you're rich?" He chuckled. "Yes, Opal, I know your family is rich."

"Not just my family," she said, her nerves tromping all through her body. "Uh, when we turn twenty-one, we get a, ahem, pretty hefty inheritance. We're charged to do something good with it. Most of us set up foundations that do things. Charitable things."

She was glad she'd eaten before she'd started talking about this, because she'd never had to explain it out loud to anyone before. "I haven't done anything with my money," she said. "It's another thing I put away, put on the backburner, for medical school and becoming a doctor."

She sighed, and Tag reached over and took her empty plate. He stacked it on top of his and leaned over to put it on the table. He could just barely reach it, and he pushed them so they slid onto the table.

"And now," Opal said as Tag settled against her side again. He lifted his arm, and she sank way into his side due to the cushy, air-couch. She certainly wasn't complaining about that, and she liked the way he pulled their blankets this way and that until they were both covered and fixed.

"Now, God won't tell me what to do with my money," she said. "Or where to live. And I love West with my whole heart, but he's not my baby. And all I'm doing is taking care of him." She stared out past the fire now, wishing she could see into the dark. Wishing it didn't represent her life so perfectly right now.

"I don't understand why I spent so long becoming a doctor if that's not what I'm meant to do. But God has been very clear on that. I'm supposed to be here."

"There are clinics and hospitals here," Tag said gently.

Clinicsrang through Opal's head. "Yes," she said slowly. Perhaps she could open and run a free medical clinic. Completely free, for the good, hardworking people in these smaller towns outside of the city.

"I feel like I need my own place, so I'm working on that. Then, I'm going to figure out if I should just be the favorite aunt to all my nieces and nephews, or if I should start something with my money, or what."

Tag ran his fingers up and down her arm, and Opal looked up at him. "Don't you want to know how much money I have?"

"Does it matter?" he asked.

"It might."

He shook his head. "Not to me. It's obvious you have money."

"Why? Because I don't have a job?"

"And haven't for a year," he added.

Opal smiled and stretched up to kiss him. Tag took his time with her, and oh, Opal definitely felt the ground disappear beneath her. She floated on the purple blow-up couch, every stroke of Tag's mouth against hers making her fall more and more—and more—in love with him.

So wherever she ended up, she needed it to be close to him, and she decided she'd double-down on her prayers in the hopes that God would finally give her a little hint about the next step to take in her life.