Chapter 28

Tag entered the barn and found Steele taking Rooster out of the stall. "Gonna take him today?"

"He's been good out in the fields," Steele said. "So yeah." He flashed a smile at Tag and added, "Oh, and Gerty's having a welcome-home dinner for Opal tonight."

Tag, who'd started to move toward the tack room so he could get out the other horses who needed to be worked today, stopped completely. "What? It's Tuesday, and Opal's not back until Thursday."

"She's coming in early," Steele said. "I guess. I don't know. That's just what Gerty said this morning when I was at the farmhouse." He took Rooster down the aisle and out the door, all while Tag stood stock-still, trying to understand what he'd heard.

And who he'd heard it from. "Steele," he scoffed. "I have to hear about my girlfriend's early return to town from Steele." Jealousy and anger combined inside him in a way he didn't enjoy and didn't want. He pulled out his notebook and flipped to his spot in it.

Opal came home early without telling me. This upsets me, and I'm not sure why.

I know she doesn't like Steele, and it's not like she told him.

But it still hurts to find out from him, as if he's more important than me.

He looked up from his scribbling, glad he had this outlet to bleed out the negative emotions when he felt them.

Does she think I won't find out?

Does she think I'm going to appreciate being the last to know?

What does she have planned?

The last question in black pen and Tag's handwriting stared back at him, demanding an answer. Opal was smart and savvy, rich and powerful. She could have almost anything she wanted, and almost anything planned too. Simply being in another state wouldn't stop her.

"You spoke your mind with her last week," he reminded himself. "You can do the same thing when you see her." He didn't need to be the one in charge all the time, but he wanted his feelings to matter too. He wanted to be her equal in every way, and while that might never happen, he wanted her to know that he had merit too.

He flipped back several pages and started reading through some of his lists, his thoughts, his demons. Yes, he'd talked about Opal in here, and he didn't feel bad about it. He wasn't a robot, and his feelings were valid.

For a moment, he flashed back to his relationship with Talina, and how he'd bent over backward and done everything she'd told him, everything she wanted, every single thing in his life had been dictated by her. He didn't want a relationship like that.

He went back to his empty pages and started writing again. My feelings matter too. I want a relationship of give and take.

Compromise is fine, as long as I have a voice.

As long as I don't disappear.

Tag paused, then flipped the notebook closed. "I don't want to disappear again," he said. He'd done that once, and it wasn't the life or type of relationship he wanted to have. It had taken him months to come back to himself, to realize his worth, and to remember he was a valued human being, a son of the Almighty God, and worthy of being recognized as such.

"I won't go back to anyone like Talina," he told himself firmly, and then he tucked his notebook away and got to work.

About noon, he got a text from Opal that said, I just landed in Denver, and I'll be back on the farm tonight. I know you have your leatherworking class tonight, but maybe we can move our date up to tomorrow night?

Tag read and re-read the text, wondering how aggressive to be. He'd calmed down since that morning, since he'd written out his feelings and then put in a good half-day of work.

I can skip my class, he said.

No, it's okay, Opal said. I'm meeting Molly and Jane for a late lunch, and Gerty's doing a party tonight. It's dumb, but I couldn't say no.

Tomorrow is fine then, he said.

Thank you, Tag, Opal said, and he wasn't sure what to do with her gratitude.

He'd been planning to take her out on Thursday when she was supposed to originally return, and he quickly tapped to get to the text confirmation of his reservation. He opened the link and found the option to modify the reservation.

"Please let them have time tomorrow," he said aloud, wondering who wouldn't have space for two on a Wednesday night. Still, he needed all the pieces to be in place if he was to open his soul and let Opal see all the darkest parts of himself.

Thankfully, the restaurant had space tomorrow night, and he changed the reservation with a few taps of his fingertips. He texted Opal to let her know what time and where, because it influenced what she wore when they went out.

Thank you, she said again. I'll see you tomorrow.

He suddenly wanted to call her, to make sure she knew everything between them was fine, that nothing had changed. "But that's just your side," he said. "You didn't tell her about your birthday, and she thinks something about that."

Regret laced through him then, and he pulled out the notebook again. After writing down a few thoughts, he put it away and went back to the baler in front of him. He could fix a few things, but this might need to be taken in.

Cord Behr would know exactly what to do to get it to work, and it wasn't like Gerty couldn't afford to keep her machines in tip-top shape. Not only that, but Cord had married Opal's cousin, and he might know a thing or two about how it felt to marry such a beautiful, powerful, rich woman.

His decision made, Tag pulled out his phone and dialed the mechanic shop, praying that Jane had already left for her lunch with Opal. Sure enough, Cord answered with, "Behr's." He almost barked it, and somehow that made Tag smile.

"Hey, Cord," he said, immediately wondering how to turn the conversation toward personal things. He'd eaten plenty of meals with this man, enjoyed some holidays with him, and surely Tag could ask him a few questions. "It's Tag out at Gerty's place, and I've got a baler that I can't get to hold the twine right."

"I can look at it," he said. "When can you bring it in?"

"Whenever," Tag said. "Today, even."

"I've got a truck here this afternoon I have to get through," he said. "But yeah, bring it by."

"Great," Tag said. "Have you had lunch? I could bring you something to eat."

"I'm not going to say no to lunch," he said. "We packed food from home, but it wasn't my favorite last night, so I won't feel bad if I don't eat it."

Tag chuckled. "Fair enough. Steak sandwich from Mo's?"

"All day long," Cord said with a smile in his voice now. "And if you tell my wife I said I didn't want to eat her leftovers, I will deny it until the day I die."

Tag burst out laughing then, and he promised Cord he wouldn't say a word to Jane about the leftovers. Then he backed his truck up to the baler, hooked it up, and headed to the shop, praying he'd get answers to more than one question this afternoon.

"Howdy, Tag." Cord stuck out his hand and Tag put his in it to shake. "Baler problems?"

"It's not like we need it right this second, but I've been goin' through things," he said, feeling a little foolish now that he'd arrived at the technician shop. He told himself Cord didn't know why he'd really come, and perhaps he just wanted lunch with another human being—and to get some expert eyes on the baler.

He lifted the white paper bag. "Sandwiches here."

Cord finished drying his hands, which he'd obviously just washed. "Let's eat first. Sound okay?"

"Sure," Tag said, letting his eyes sweep the bays where Cord worked. "You're done with the truck?"

"Found the problem right after you called," he said. "I sometimes just need to step away, and the answers come." He flashed another rare smile in Tag's direction. "We can eat in the office. It's the cleanest place."

Tag followed Cord into the smaller space, and he took the chair opposite the desk while Cord sank into the one behind it with a sigh. "Been busy lately."

"I can't even imagine," Tag said. "Planting, fertilizing, everyone getting things out from last year." He opened the bag and pulled out the first sandwich. It was labeled with a four, which was his.

"Mm, yep." Cord took the second sandwich Tag produced from the bag. "Thanks, Tag."

He smiled, but it felt so tight across his mouth. He ducked his head more than he needed to in order to focus on unwrapping his turkey, provolone, and avocado sandwich, sure Cord would be able to read him like an open book.

He suddenly felt like he didn't know Cord at all. He was at least a decade older than Tag, and he never called attention to himself at meals and parties. He spoke and participated, obviously, but he wasn't the life of the party.

Sometimes, Tag had gotten the feeling Cord would rather be at home than out, but he'd cleaned up and come all the same. Tag could definitely relate to that, and he dared to look up at the man as he lifted his first half-sandwich.

"What's on your mind?" Cord asked. He'd already bitten into his gravy-laden steak sandwich, and he took another bite while watching Tag.

Thankfully, Tag had already put his sandwich in motion, so he took a bite as he shook his head slightly. Cord picked up a napkin from the thick stack of them in the middle of the table and wiped his face.

They both ate, the silence about to burst Tag at the seams. He finally swallowed all the meat and cheese, and he wished he'd gotten drinks.

"I've got Coke and water," Cord said. "Maybe some ginger ale in there, leftover from when Jane was sick."

"Coke would be great," Tag said. He took the can from Cord, who wasn't going to ask Tag again. He could simply see that in the man's expression. Still, he popped the top on the Coke and took a fizzy gulp of it.

As he exhaled, he decided he'd come here to have this conversation. It wasn't going to be the first hard one he'd had, and it certainly wouldn't be the last. Especially with the way his date with Opal loomed on the horizon.

"Okay, fine," he said. "I'm feeling a little…I don't even know how to say it."

"Is this a farm thing?" Cord asked. "A life thing? You're unsettled working for someone else? Want a place of your own?" He ducked his head and lifted his sandwich. "Or an Opal thing?"

"Opal," scraped out of Tag's throat. "Or maybe a life thing. Or a farm thing. Maybe it's all wrapped together." He sighed and rolled his neck from side to side. "It feels knotted. Complicated."

Cord had taken another bite of his lunch, and he nodded in an overly enunciated way, obviously his nonverbal way of saying, Go on. Keep talking.

"She's just so—so perfect," Tag said like that was a bad thing to be. "She's smart. She has all this money, and she's talking of starting a foundation that'll fund a non-profit clinic. She wants a place of her own, so she buys land from her brother, hires a builder, and bam, the house is well on its way to completion."

He took a breath, but so many more words had started piling up. They choked him as they stacked down his throat, and Tag's only option was to keep talking. "And it's just so easy for her, you know? Nothing is hard for a Hammond. She has so much money, it's like she doesn't even understand what other people have to go through."

Cord said nothing, but he nodded again; took another bite of his sandwich. Tag had only had the one, and he didn't think he could stuff anything into his mouth until everything he needed to say came out.

"Then, she's not sure about the foundation or the clinic, and let me tell you, she doesn't really want those things. I know what she wants, and she does too, but it's like she's afraid to admit it."

As Tag spoke, he realized he was afraid too. So he said, "And I am too, because what if I'm not enough for her? I don't own any land. Or a farm. Or anything. And we'll…what? Get married, and I'll move into her house, on her land, and cater to her?"

He actually didn't mind all of those things. He'd do them a thousand times over. "I feel like I'm losing myself again," he said. "Where do I fit? Am I really that important to her? And how long could that possibly last? Until she has the babies she wants?"

He shook his head. "It's complicated," he muttered again, and then he stuffed his mouth with more meat and cheese.

Cord slid the end of his messy sandwich into his mouth and picked up another napkin. He cleaned up without saying anything, and Tag just wanted to toss his turkey and avocado at the wall and stalk out. He could obviously never come back here again, and he'd need to somehow make sure that Cord never said anything of this conversation to Jane.

He swallowed and looked at Cord. "I want to matter too. It might be stupid or selfish or whatever, but it's how I feel."

"How you feel is valid," Cord finally said, dropping the napkin into a pile with the others he'd used. "And completely normal for being with someone like Opal."

"Did you feel like this with Jane?"

"Absolutely," Cord said. "Every day." He leaned back in his chair and folded his arms. "It wasn't an easy road for me, bein' with Jane. Her daddy didn't like me for her—in fact, he forbade me from dating her when we were younger." A smile came to his face that Tag did not comprehend.

"But we grew up. We matured, and Jane's very stubborn. She knows what she wants, and she's not afraid to go after it. I think Opal's a little like that."

Tag scoffed. "A little, sure. Must be a Hammond trait."

"It's not a bad thing," Cord said gently—as gently as he'd ever said anything, at least. "Jane has to talk everything out. She requires me to say things I might not normally say, because she wants my opinion. She wants me to have a voice. I'd be shocked if Opal will require you to be a puppet." He raised his eyes. "Yeah?"

Tag couldn't argue with him. "I think that's about right," he admitted.

"Then you better start talkin' to her," Cord said. "I don't know what's going on, obviously. But Jane didn't have a lunch date with her cousin this morning, and then she suddenly did. She'd had a serious look on her face after the call too, and she told me, ‘It's important, baby. I have to go.' So she went."

Tag hung his head in shame, because he didn't want to cause any trouble or heartache for Opal.

"Don't do that," Cord said next, this time in his barky voice.

Tag looked up. "Do what?"

"Cower down like that." Cord leaned forward and put his arms on his desk. "You know what you want, Tag. I think anyone with eyes can see you're in love with her." He pointed one thick finger at Tag. "And that she's in love with you. So whatever dance you two are doing, it just needs to be spelled out."

"I didn't tell her about my birthday," he said. "Or my brothers coming, because I didn't want to interrupt her trip to see the new baby."

"Good intentions," Cord murmured.

"She's mad about it."

"Mm hm." Cord leaned away again, and some of the tension in the office alleviated with his new position. "So you apologize for that. Make sure she knows why you did it. And then, Tag, buddy, you have got to tell her everything else. It's not going to just go away, and she can't fix a problem she doesn't know exists."

"All right," Tag said, and as he stuffed the last bite of his lunch in his mouth, a bell rang.

"Customers call," Cord said, getting to his feet. "We good here?"

Tag nodded and spoke around his food. "Yeah. Yep. All good."

"I'll look at the baler." With that, Cord left the office, left Tag to ponder all he'd said, left him praying that when faced with the woman he loved instead of Cord, he actually could say what he needed to say in order to feel like he and Opal were equals.