Chapter 25

Tag showered, shaved, and dressed while thinking about Opal and what she'd said. When do you know if your like is starting to turn into love?

He'd made a joke about it, but he couldn't stop thinking about it. He'd grown very fond of Opal. Did that mean he loved her?

He'd started envisioning a future with her, that was for certain. The building of her house frustrated him as much as it excited her. She'd been working on her foundation more and more too, and he knew she'd had a call with her daddy this evening to go over numbers. Numbers for what, he didn't know.

Tag was just a simple cowboy, after all. He knew how to make sure he had enough money in his bank account for what he had to pay for, and that was about it.

When Opal still hadn't arrived with dinner, he went into the spare bedroom to make sure it was ready for the twins. They'd be here in a couple-three weeks, and they were staying with him. He'd cleared it with Gerty and Steele to have the whole weekend off, and the last person he needed to prep for Flint and Sawyer's arrival was Opal.

He needed to talk to her about a lot of things, actually. He'd still never had that "serious conversation," and not because she hadn't asked. But because he hadn't been able to find the words yet.

He'd been hoping and praying and working to get himself to a place where he felt like he stood on even ground with Opal, and he figured if he could get that done, he wouldn't need to bring anything up with her. "What's she gonna do about it anyway?" he muttered to himself.

She couldn't change who she was, or how much money her family had. He didn't even want her to. No, what he wanted to change was himself.

"Knock, knock," she called from out in the main part of the cabin, and Tag turned away from the made-and-ready beds in the spare bedroom. He kept a computer in here too, but he hardly used it for much more than personal banking a couple of times each month. Everything else he could do from his phone.

"Coming," he called. "C'mon in, honey-love."

Boots darted into the room, pure doggy happiness on his face. He ran around Tag's legs and right back out the door, clearly saying, Come on! Opal's here!

Tag chuckled and said, "I know, buddy." He went down the hall and found Opal peeling back the lid on a long, aluminum foil container that looked like it could feed a dozen people.

"Whatcha got there?" he asked as the first tang of barbecue sauce hit his nose.

"Ribs, potato salad, mashed potatoes, cole slaw, and cornbread." Opal looked up, clearly pleased with herself. "With honey butter."

"Mm." Tag moved into the kitchen and wrapped both arms around her. "And you."

"And me," she said, smiling up at him. "Purple couch is out back, with some blankets, though it's not too cold yet."

"We'll need ‘em," he said. "Sun's down, and that means the temp's falling fast." He refrained from looking at the thermometer he'd hung just outside the window above the sink. He liked knowing what he was going into before he did it, especially in the winter.

"Fields are done for the summer," he said. "Planted and ready to go."

"That's great, Taggart."

He warmed with the use of his full name. Opal wasn't volunteering a lot of info right now, and she seemed more reserved than usual. Tag quickly got down a pair of plates and grabbed out some forks.

"You want to eat outside?"

"Yes," she said simply, taking a plate from him. They took their fill, and Opal grabbed a bottle of peach sweet tea before she went outside. He followed with a bottle of pink lemonade, thrilled to see that blow-up purple couch.

He'd had no idea what Opal would do with it when he'd bought it, but she'd literally been carrying it everywhere, plopping it down, and lying on it. Now, it made him smile as she settled onto one end of it and balanced her plate on the other side while she pulled a blanket over her legs.

Tag waited until she got settled, and then he sat down too. She took his plate; he pulled the blanket over; she handed his plate back to him. The way they helped one another, moved in tandem, wasn't lost on Tag. For maybe the first time, he felt part of a real couple—one-half of a whole that knew the other person so well, they could choregraph their movements, predict their thoughts, be one together.

"Should be real clear tonight," he said as he scooped up a bite of potato salad. "Lots of stars."

"I hope so," she said. "I love the stars."

As she'd told him previously, and why he'd planned this date specifically for this night. It was a new moon, which meant there'd be no light pollution from anything on the ground or in the sky. It would be dark, dark, dark if they got too far from the cabin or farm, and the stars would be the only thing giving light to the earth.

"Allison had her baby," Opal said. "This morning. They named him Spencer."

Tag looked over to her, the pureness of her voice striking against his heartstrings and making them vibrate. "That's great news."

"Her mom's there," she said. "Or will be tomorrow. I think they're coming from Alabama or something like that."

"Georgia," he said gently. "I talked to her at Christmas, and her family is in Georgia."

"Ah, Georgia." Opal gave him a fast smile. "I suppose you know every family from Alabama, is that it?"

He chuckled and shook his head. "No, honey, I sure don't."

"Oh, don't do that sexy drawl on me."

"You like it," he shot back. "So when are you going to see the baby?"

"Who says I'm going to go? It's clear across the country."

"Right," he said. "So when are you going?"

"Her mom's going to be there for a couple of weeks," she said casually. "So I'll go after that."

"Mm." Tag didn't mention his birthday, though he'd told the twins they could meet Opal. He wasn't going to change her plans to go see her new nephew. He'd seen her with one of those already, and no man should stand in Opal Hammond's way when it came to her and babies.

"How was your call with your Daddy?" he asked.

"It was…good." Opal blew out her breath. "I'm not sure I got the answers I wanted, but I got some answers."

"That's good then."

"Yeah," she said. She fell silent again, and Tag wasn't sure if he should press her for more information about the answers she'd gotten or not. She sometimes just told him, talking and talking until she realized she'd started repeating herself.

He didn't mind that either, because he liked learning what was in her head, what was important to her, what she wanted in her life.

They finished eating, and Tag simply dropped his plate to the grass beside the couch, where Boots happily trotted over and started licking it.

"Come lay with me, honey," he whispered, and Opal looked away from the nearly dark sky. She shifted, letting the blow-up couch slide her into his side. He lifted his left leg up onto the couch. That allowed him to settle into the very corner of the couch, and Opal laid against his chest while he adjusted the blanket over both of them.

He drew in a deep breath of her appley skin and hair, closed his eyes, and exhaled it all out. The dirtiness of the day, the busyness of planting, the worry about him and Opal. It all just left, leaving him open for something better to come into his mind and heart.

"I'm not sure about the foundation now," Opal said.

"Oh?"

"It feels like a short-term solution to me wanting to feel important," she said. "I'm not sure I want to run it long-term."

"Mm." Tag didn't know what to say, and it felt like Opal just needed a sounding board. So he'd let her talk, and he wouldn't offer advice unless she asked him a question. "You're important to me," he murmured.

She snuggled closer. "I know, Taggart."

"Is it not enough?"

She froze, every muscle tensed against him. "What do you mean?"

"Is being important to me not enough for you?" he asked. "I know you're used to being the head honcho, the one calling all the shots. You're used to being important in important ways, to important things."

She didn't say anything for a moment, and Tag wished he'd kept his big mouth shut. "And now I'm here," she said.

"And you're important here too," he said. "To Gerty and Mike. To that cute baby you care for every day. To me."

She nodded against his chest. "Yes, I know."

He wanted to ask—so is it not enough? again, but he willed his voice to stay dormant.

"There are other ways to make a difference without starting a foundation and running a free medical clinic."

"I agree," he said. "It would be amazing to be sure, but you're right. There are other ways to make a difference."

Another bout of silence covered them. Then Opal said, "The stars are out, sweetheart. No more talking," to which he murmured, "No problem, my honey-love."

"Ding-dong!" someone yelled, and Tag spun from the kitchen sink where he'd been washing his hands.

Flint and Sawyer practically tripped over one another as they entered his cabin, and all three of them laughed as they congregated at the end of the couch.

"You made it," Tag said.

"We made it," Flint agreed. "Barely. Sawyer's forgotten how to use the GPS."

"I have not," Sawyer argued over the top of him. "It was so wonky in that rental."

"You said you'd text when you landed," Tag said.

"We did, bro," Flint said as he started glancing around.

"Maybe I was out in the field still," Tag said, trying to remember where he'd been about ninety minutes ago, when his brothers had surely landed.

"I don't smell dinner," Sawyer said.

"That's because it's lunchtime." Flint elbowed his brother. "You ate on the plane besides."

"I'm hungry," Sawyer complained, and since he'd been born second and the smaller of the twins, he often teased Flint about taking all his nutrients in the womb.

"Let's go to lunch," Tag said. "There's a great burger place only about twenty minutes away."

"You're done with work?" Flint asked.

"Yep, done for the whole weekend." Tag grinned at them. "So we can go hiking or camping. We can go into the city. Whatever you want."

"Where's Opal?" Sawyer actually looked down the hallway, like Tag would be hiding her back there.

His stomach cinched. "Oh, uh, she had to go out of town."

"Out of town?" Flint asked as Sawyer said, "Dude, did you invent a girlfriend?"

"No." Tag shot his youngest brother a glare. "She's real. Her brother had a baby."

"Dude, boys don't have babies." Sawyer grinned at him like he was the funniest man alive.

Tag rolled his eyes, though everything with the twins was a party. "Her brother's wife had a baby, and Opal went to help for a couple of weeks."

"A couple of weeks?" Sawyer asked. "That's a long time."

So Tag didn't mention that the little boy was almost a month old now. "She loves babies," was all he said. "She'll be back next week. Thursday."

"Convenient," Flint said.

"Do you want to see a picture?" Tag glared at him and reached for his phone on the counter.

"Yes," Flint said with a nod. "Yes, we want to see a picture."

"And not an old one, dude. Have her text you one right now." They both crowded into Tag, and he wanted to shove them back.

Instead, he let their travel stench and their hot breath waft over him while he texted Opal. Hey, honey. My brothers are here, and they think you don't exist. Can you send me a picture real quick?

Then, realizing how pathetic and maybe even creepy that sounded, his thumbs flew to get a second message sent. This isn't creepy or a joke. The twins came for my birthday, and I originally told them they could meet you, but obviously they can't.

"Let's take a selfie," he said. "Stay where you are." Because they already hovered around him, all Tag had to do was reach out with his phone and snap the photo.

See?He attached the photo to the text and sent it too. They're waiting right on top of me, just so you know.

Not that she'd send a scandalous picture, but the message did get Flint to fall back a pace. Then two. "Nice place," he said.

Sawyer continued to watch Tag's phone, and Tag rolled his eyes again and handed it to his brother. "She's real, you idiot." Sawyer only grinned at him, then went back to the phone.

"It's not the biggest, nicest place," Tag said. "But I like it. It's home."

Flint nodded, his smile bright and bold as he faced Tag. "You look good, brother. Happy birthday."

"Tomorrow," Tag said. "My birthday's tomorrow."

Flint grabbed him in a hug. "I know when your birthday is, Taggart." He pounded him on the back. "Colorado is nice. Cooler. Big mountains."

"Yeah," Tag said. "I like it here."

"So you're going to stay?" Sawyer asked, finally able to tear himself from the messages, which Opal still had not answered.

"Yeah," Tag said slowly. "I don't see any reason why I'd leave. They pay me well here. It's a good-sized farm for us to run. I love Gerty and Mike."

"And Opal," Sawyer teased.

Tag simply looked at him, not denying it yet not confirming anything either. Sawyer sobered, his eyes going wide. "Oh, boy. Are you in love with her, Tag?"

"Could be," Tag said, seeing no reason to deny it. "She's building a house here. I'm here, and I want to stay. We've been together about six months now. Give or take. I've known her for longer than that. It's…it's a real thing, guys."

The twins both stared at him, and Tag swore it was the first time either of them had ever seen him as an adult. A real, grown man.

"I told you this was serious," Flint said. "I just had a feeling."

"Then you need to get serious about Sarah," Sawyer said. "You're so flirty with her."

"I'm flirty with her?" Flint scoffed. "You haven't had a second date in a decade, Sawyer."

Tag grinned as the twins bickered back and forth about their own love lives. Or the lack thereof. His phone buzzed on the counter, and he took the few steps to it. He didn't interrupt the twinly conversation in the living room, but instead, stepped outside to take Opal's call.

"Hey, honey," he drawled.

"It's your birthday?" she demanded. "When? Today?"

Pure adrenaline shot through his veins, making his vision go white for a moment. He forgot where he stood, and why there were voices behind him in his cabin.

"Tag?" a woman asked, and he looked at the phone in his hand. "Taggart?"

Oh, Opal was not happy, and the way she said his full name now was not a term of endearment.