Chapter 21

Opal yelped as she tried to get to her feet for the third time. This time, her right foot slid even further right, causing her to fall into the splits. Oh, she couldn't do the splits, and certainly not in the mud.

Max barked again, and Opal looked up to find the dog. Perhaps she could grab onto him and get herself up. She pulled her legs together, beyond trying to stay clean. Her clothes held about as much mud as the entire plot of land she planned to use for her vegetable garden. Her house wouldn't be done, but Opal could raise peas, carrots, and corn without it.

"Opal?" Tag called, and her heart sank right down into the earth. Of course he'd be the one to find her. She wasn't even supposed to be here tonight, but Jane hadn't been feeling well after a spaghetti-and-meatball lunch had caused some acid reflux.

She and Cord had canceled dinner, which was okay with Opal. She'd come back to the farm after getting a hamburger from The Burger Babe, a restaurant her daddy had helped fund and start through the foundation at HMC when he'd been the CEO.

Then, she'd collected her garden map from her purse and come to the house. The foundation would be done curing in a week or so, and then the framing would begin. Opal had chosen an open layout on the main floor, with a master suite and a small connected room that could be a nursery, and then turned into an office once the kids moved either to the upstairs bedrooms or the basement ones.

She couldn't wait to see it, to go through every choice for flooring, paint colors, curtains, furniture, and more. And she wanted to start doing something with the land she'd purchased from Gerty and Mike, thus, her visit to the garden tonight.

"Opal?"

"I'm in the garden," she called as Tag came into view. She lifted one muddy hand over her head and waved. Tag saw her and slowed. He kept coming, but not quite at a run.

"Holy smokes," he said as he got to the edge of the garden closest to her. Max and Boots had stopped there as well. "I—I don't even know what to do." He grinned at her, but Opal didn't feel like smiling.

"I was just doing some garden prep," she said as calmly as she could.

Tag tipped his head back and laughed, and Opal supposed she deserved that.

"Come help me, cowboy." She made a noise of dissatisfaction, and Tag sobered.

"You look like you've been sucked into the ground." He looked down at his boots, his jeans, his jacket. He hadn't changed after work, because he had mud streaked along his thighs too.

"You haven't showered yet," she said. "I just need a hand. It's so slippery out here."

"All right," he said dubiously. He stepped out into the mud, and it wasn't as deep or as wet on the edges. He took four strides to reach her, and he planted his feet side-by-side and reached for her. "Up you go."

She put her disgustingly dirty hands in his, mud squishing out between her fingers as she gripped his. "Okay," she said, but she felt powerless to get her feet under her.

Tag lifted her by his sheer strength, which sent streams of embarrassment through Opal as she rose from the muck with horribly humiliating squelching sounds filling the air. Oh, and his grunting as he bore her full weight. Yeah, that wasn't embarrassing or anything.

She got one foot on the ground, and she threw her arms around Tag as she struggled to get the other one under her. "Okay," she said, but Tag started to topple.

"Okay?" he asked, his voice strained.

"Okay," she said, moving further into his chest. His left foot moved out, and Opal's went between his, making her now unsteady again.

"Not okay," he said as he wrapped both of his arms around her.

"I'm sliding," she said with plenty of panic in her voice.

"Join the club." Tag dropped to one knee, and that meant Opal couldn't stay standing either. She couldn't pull Tag down with her, so she released him and started to fall backward. But he had ahold of her, and that only brought him forward over her.

She landed hard on her backside, another cry flying from her mouth, Tag's eyes met hers for the briefest of moments before he finally got the memo and let go of her. His hands landed in the mud at her sides as his right leg finally yielded and bent at the knee.

Both of them breathed in and out, in and out, hard. He looked at her, an indecipherable look on his face. "This mud is cold," he said.

For some reason, Opal found that funny, and she started to laugh. "Yeah, it's no picnic," she said through her giggles. Her lower jaw shuddered, and she hadn't realized how chilled she'd become.

"The sun's down," she said.

"And we can't stay out here much longer," Tag said. "Or we'll be stumbling back to the farmhouse in the pitch dark."

Opal grinned at him. "You've got a little mud here." She reached up and wiped her messy hands along his cheekbone and down into his beard.

Pure shock entered his expression. "You have got to be kidding me."

She laughed, then shrieked when Tag lifted his completely muddy hand too. "Taggart Crow, don't you dare."

"Don't I dare?" He grinned wickedly at her, his hand still raised. But instead of him smearing the muck through her hair, he leaned forward and kissed her. Opal got a little grit on her lips, along with the taste of earth, but she didn't mind so much. Not when it was Tag doing the kissing.

He pulled away with a laugh bubbling out of his mouth. "We really can't stay out here like this." He put one hand on her shoulder to steady himself. Behind him, Max barked. Tag looked at the dog and back to Opal. "Maybe we should just scoot to the edge. It's drier over there."

"I am not mud-scooting in front of you."

His eyes danced with delight. "Embarrassed?"

"Thoroughly."

"Oh, come on, Opal," he said good-naturedly. "You've got to have something you don't excel at."

"Prepping vegetable garden plots," Opal said. "Check."

"I'll take it."

She thought she saw something strained on Tag's face for a moment, but then he dropped his gaze to the dirt. "I'm just gonna…." He leaned into her, and she braced herself against his weight as he used her to get to his feet.

He offered her his hand again, but Opal wasn't so sure she should take it. "Come on, honey-sweets," he said. "At the very least, I can pull you toward the edge."

How mortifying, she thought. In the end, she had no other choice. Trying to get to her feet in front of him and falling again would be worse. So she put her hand in his and let him pull her up again.

They stayed upright this time, and he said, "Let's just shuffle over toward the dogs." He went backward, and Opal took tiny, mincing steps forward. After what felt like a long journey, Tag stepped up a bit, pulled Opal with him, and she stood on drier ground.

Max barked and looked up at both of them, then ran around them in a circle, and barked again.

"Yes, yes," Opal said, almost scolding the dog. "We're out." She looked down at her clothes—a nice pair of navy blue pants and a blouse that would never be white again. It had splashy flowers on it, but they wouldn't look the same against a dingy background.

In that moment, she realized she'd lost a shoe. And she'd driven. Her hands flew to her pockets, and thankfully, she felt the hard plastic of the key fob. "I can't get in my car like this," she said.

"You can't go in the farmhouse like that," Tag teased.

She didn't want to tell him she'd lost a shoe, but she didn't see any other way around it. "I lost a shoe."

Tag looked down at her feet, and in the quickly fading light, he made a noise somewhere between a scoff and a laugh. He looked up again, and Opal met his eyes. "We better get going." He took her hand, dried and wet mud and all, and they started back toward the dirt road.

Opal limped along, doing her best not to cry out whenever she stepped on something less than pleasant. Thankfully, the road was just hard-packed dirt, with some smaller loose pebbles. Her socked foot also had a layer of mud, and she managed to keep up with Tag.

"Are you…?" She didn't know how to bring up the questions in her mind.

"Am I what?" Tag looked over to her.

"Never mind," she said. He'd already admitted he thought she was perfect, and she didn't want to talk about any of that tonight.

"You need a good pair of garden boots for gardening, honey," he said.

"Noted," she said.

"I'll get you some," he said. "Because I know you're not going to quit on that garden." He wore joviality in his tone, and it made Opal smile. "Now, you're going to be mad at me, but it'll only last five minutes."

Her heartbeat swooped through her body like a bird riding a strong wind current. "Mad at you?"

"The outdoor water isn't on at the farmhouse yet," he said. "But we've got it in the barn."

It took Opal several seconds to connect the dots. "You're going to make me go to the barn to be hosed off like an animal?"

"Honey, would you like to deal with Gerty when she sees mud all over her house?" He looked at her like she was some sort of swamp monster. "You're dripping with the stuff."

Opal held her head high, but she could admit it was hard, because the mud weighed a lot. "Fine," she said. "Hose me down like a cow."

Tag chuckled, but Opal just wanted to be in a hot shower, then her pjs, so she could bask in her own humiliation. "You're not a cow." He pressed a gritty kiss to her temple. "And bonus, you can spray me down too, and I have a much longer walk to a hot shower than you do."

"There's no way you can walk through the dark, soaking wet, to your cabin," Opal said. "Just come shower at the house."

"And put on what after?"

"Mike has clothes," she said airily.

"Why aren't you at Jane's?" he asked, and Opal recognized him dodging her suggestion.

"She wasn't feeling well."

"That's too bad."

Opal let him lead her past the brightly lit farmhouse and toward the barn. Shivering, she said, "Maybe you can stay and watch a movie with me after we shower."

"And maybe your brother will slit my throat when he walks in, sees me wearing his clothes and cuddling with his younger sister."

Opal grinned into the night, glad Tag had come along. She hadn't even realized how quickly the sun set, though it was still March. The days had been getting longer, but she'd been foolish to think daylight hours lasted as long as they did in the summer.

"Mike has never had a say in who I date," she said. "And he and Gerty wouldn't want you walking home in the dark soaking wet."

"This feels like an unwinnable situation," he said.

Opal laughed. "Oh, Taggart, honey, don't you know I always win?"

He chuckled and said, "Yes, Opal-honey, I do know that."

In the barn, he led her down to the end where the wash stall was. "I'll go first," he said. "Then you won't be wet for as long." He stepped into the stall and nodded to the hose. "Go on now."

Opal only hesitated for a moment, and then she took the hose off the wall. She looked at it for a moment, sure she wasn't about to spray down her boyfriend with cold water on a March night.

"Do it," he said, gritting his teeth. He closed his eyes, and Opal wanted to close hers. Instead, she pressed the handle on the nozzle on the hose, and the water came out. She stepped back as the water pressure bucked against her hand, and the water sprayed all over—left and right—until she could control the hose and get it on Tag's lower half. He stuck his hands out in front of him to rinse those, and after only about ten seconds, he said, "Good enough."

He took a few steps toward her and took the hose. "Your turn."

Opal took his place, and Tag didn't waste a moment before turning the hose on her. She'd barely turned, in fact, and she yelped as he said, "I'm sorry. I'm sorry, Opal-honey."

She gritted her teeth and went into a happy place. Somewhere where she didn't feel the icy shards of water as it blasted her skin and clothes. Before she knew it, Tag said, "Good enough," and the water stopped. "Let's get inside."

He took her hand again, and while the water dripping from her fingers and chin wasn't completely clear, it was far better than before. She had to run every third step to keep up with him, and her teeth chattered by the time Tag hurried her up the steps to the small kitchen entrance deck.

"Everything off," he said.

"What?"

"I'll grab you a towel from the laundry room," he said. "You're dripping muddy water. I won't look." With that, he ducked inside, and Opal stared after him.

Then, she stepped out of her remaining shoe—not even a sneaker—her pants, and had just lifted her sopping blouse over her head when Tag said, "I have my eyes closed."

She glanced over and all she saw was a towel. She grabbed it and wrapped it around herself, then quickly stepped into the warmer house. "I-I-I'm going to shower," she said through shaking emotions and chattering cold.

Tag didn't speak, and Opal hurried through the kitchen and living room to the hallway. She flipped on the water in the bathroom and dropped the towel. The farmhouse had great hot water, and only second later, Opal stepped into the stream of it.

A sigh sank through her body, and she rinsed her hair and body until the water ran clear. Then she soaped up and washed, brushed her teeth, and got dressed in her warmest pjs and fluffiest socks.

Then she grabbed a blanket from the hall closet and towed it with her down the hall to the living room, where she found Tag sitting on the couch, texting.

"So you did shower here," she said.

He looked up, his smile gracing that handsome face. "I did." He indicated the kitchen exit. "I put our clothes in the washer, but I was waiting to start it."

Opal didn't head in that direction. "Okay." She joined him on the couch and pulled the blanket over her legs as she leaned into his chest. "I guess you're staying?"

"I texted Mike and Gerty about using their shower, so I feel less like I might get in trouble if I stay."

Opal smiled at him. "You smell good."

"Mm, so do you." He touched his mouth to hers, and Opal sure could get used to nights like this, mud and all. "Opal, I've missed you these past couple of weeks."

"Mm, I miss you too."

"How's the clinic coming?"

Opal leaned back into his chest and pulled the blanket up to her chin. After tucking her arms in, Tag re-tucked it, and Opal closed her eyes. "I actually have a site now."

"Do you?" His voice pitched up.

Opal nodded. "It's a little south and a little east of here," she said. "There's a hospital in Caster Falls, and small clinics out this way, but nothing in Maplewood. There's a big piece of commercial land, and I've talked to the realtor about it."

Tag didn't respond right away, and then he asked, "And?" in his blunt but positive way.

"But my daddy says I should do everything through a business or a foundation, and I don't have anything like that. So I've been talking to him about getting that all set up. I can't buy the land until that's done."

"Does that take a long time?"

"Shouldn't," Opal said. "I don't want to talk anymore tonight. Can you just hold me, and we'll pretend to watch something on TV?"

Tag's body behind hers relaxed, and she hadn't realized how tight he'd been until then. "Yeah, all right." He used the remote control and switched on the TV. "Opal, can we talk about something serious next time we have a minute?"

Now everything inside her tensed. "Yeah," she said anyway. "Of course we can."

"Okay," he whispered, and then he slid down behind her, wrapping her more fully in his arms.

"Oooh, Mike isn't going to be happy about this," she teased in a whisper.

Tag didn't laugh. Not even a chuckle. Instead, he kissed her right behind her ear, and Opal started shivering all over again—for an entirely different reason. She wasn't sure what "serious thing" he wanted to talk about, but she sure hoped it wasn't too serious, and that they'd be able to find their way through whatever maze they found themselves in.

She really needed that, because as she kissed him, Opal felt herself falling, falling, falling in love with the gorgeous cowboy—and she didn't want to stop.