Chapter 9

Gertrude Hammond shrugged out of her backpack and set it on the backseat of the truck. When she turned, Mikey took her into his arms. "You call me if you need anything at all," he murmured before he kissed her.

Gerty loved being in his arms, loved being with him, loved how he loved her and took care of her. "My parents know you're coming, and they're expecting you and Tag for dinner."

"I'll stay in touch with them if things are slow," she said.

"The weather looks good the whole way," Mike said next, his lips falling down the length of her neck. Gerty shivered, and not only because the winter morning wind had just kicked up. "But keep in touch. Call me tonight." He pulled back and smiled at her. "Okay?"

"I'll call you tonight," she promised. "We'll be okay."

"The road can be windy, and you've got the trailer."

"I'll pull over if it's bad, and Tag's a more experienced driver than I am. He said he'd be happy to drive." Gerty knew she wasn't the best driver in the world, and Mike and her daddy sometimes teased her about it.

She had a horse trailer that would hold four equines, which was why she was only buying four of Bryce Young's horses instead of all five. She didn't want to rent an eight-stall trailer and drive it for twenty hours for that extra horse, though she did want it.

"I love you," she said to Mike, smiling at him.

"Love you too, baby." He backed up, and Gerty closed the back driver's side door. She got behind the wheel and made sure she had her coffee thermos, her sunglasses, her thread wallet, and her phone. With a charger.

"All set," she said, glancing up and out the windshield. Tag had already put his overnight bag in the back, and he'd run back inside to get coffee himself. As Gerty watched, he and Opal came out onto the front porch, and Gerty grinned at West on Opal's hip.

She'd already kissed her baby boy goodbye, and Gerty pulled back on the emotions flying through her. She loved being a mother way more than she'd thought she would, and everything about her blonde baby reminded her that God was a God of miracles.

Mike went up the steps and took West from Opal, said something, and went inside the house. Gerty ducked her head, because she didn't need to spy on Opal and Tag while they said goodbye. They wouldn't be gone for even forty-eight hours, but Opal and Tag had only been out a few times, and their relationship was still pretty new.

Gerty reached for her coffee and took a sip, startling as the passenger door opened. "Oh."

"Hey," Tag said. "Ready?"

"I am," she said, looking up again. Opal leaned against the pillar at the top of the steps, a smile on her face. She waved to Gerty, who smiled and waved back. Then she flipped the truck into drive and slowly eased around in a wide arc to get off the farm.

Gerty's nerves vibrated at her. She didn't normally need to say everything she thought, but Tag worked for her, and she wanted him to work for her for a very long time. She'd also been talking to Mike about Opal finding somewhere to live, but she wasn't ready to say anything about that yet.

Her skin felt like spiders were marching eight by eight up and down her arms and legs. She squirmed and cleared her throat.

"Just say what you want to say, Gerty," Tag drawled. "You're dancin' all over the place."

"You didn't kiss her goodbye," she said, shooting him a quick look. "Opal."

Tag's jaw tightened, and he pressed his lips into a flat line. "No," he finally said.

"Why not?" Gerty asked. "You two have been dating for a couple of weeks now. I didn't think—I mean—" Panic cut off her thoughts and her words. "She doesn't talk about you. To me." She shook her head. "She doesn't. And I don't ask, Tag. I really don't."

Tag exhaled and looked out his side window. "Do I have to talk about it?"

"No," Gerty said. "Sorry, Tag. Really." She watched him, and he seemed frustrated. Gerty hoped it was because of this conversation and not because of his relationship with Opal.

"Dinner with her parents tonight," she said lightly. "They know you two are dating."

"Yeah," he said. "Opal told them."

"It's going well?"

"Yes," he said, the word a bit more clipped. "I think it is." He swung his attention to Gerty. "She told me this would be okay. That she'd talked to her parents about us, and that they can't hound me to death tonight. She didn't warn me about you." The left corner of his mouth twitched up, and Gerty relaxed slightly.

"You're not really mad," she said.

"I'm just not talking about this for the next eight hours. Or even the next eight minutes."

"Give me eight seconds then," Gerty said. "Of what you're worried about."

"Eating dinner with your family," he said. "There. That's it. Five words."

"You've met Mike and Opal's parents before," she said.

"Different capacity," he said. "We've also never taken a trip together before." He reached for his coffee, and the conversation stalled as he took a long drink. "Maybe I'm a little nervous about that." A gust of wind shook the truck, and Gerty gripped the wheel and immediately checked her rearview mirror to make sure the trailer wasn't going to pull them off the road.

"And the wind is worrying me," he said.

"Me too," Gerty murmured. They'd hardly cut into the trip at all. Gerty hadn't even made it to the main highway that would take them north to the Wyoming border. "Would you drive?"

"Yeah," he said easily.

Gerty eased off to the shoulder and put the truck in park. "Thanks," she said. "I could do it, but?—"

"I know you could," Tag said. He quickly unbuckled his seatbelt and switched places with her. "This doesn't mean you can question me relentlessly about Opal."

Gerty grinned at him and mimed zipping her lips. "No more questions about Opal."

"What you can do is talk about how I should avoid making a fool of myself at dinner tonight."

"What do you mean?"

"Oh, come on. Topics to avoid, things to bring up to impress Opal's daddy. Give me something."

Gerty grinned, because Tag was always so sure of himself. So calm and cool. So capable. "They're just people, Tag," she said. "What we really need to talk about is how Steele is going to fare with us at the farm."

Tag looked over to her, displaying his confidence as he kept driving without freaking out when another round of wind battered them from the west. "Steele is going to be great," he said.

"You've worked with him for two days."

"He's a quick learner," Tag said. "He doesn't say much, but neither do we." He grinned at Gerty. "He's going to be fine."

"Sometimes it's the quiet ones you have to be careful of," she said thoughtfully. Steele came with great recommendations, and of course Gerty had known Travis and Poppy—his parents—for decades now. She wasn't that much older than Steele, and she didn't know all of his struggles.

Uncle Matt had said he was "ready for a new challenge," and that a change of scenery would be good for him. Gerty wanted to help Steele, but she also needed a trustworthy employee she could count on to get the job done.

Don't second guess yourself, she thought, and she strengthened her shoulders and set her sights out the windshield. "Have you ever done something you didn't understand?" she asked. "Because God told you you should?"

Tag looked at her again. "Yes," he said slowly.

"That's how I feel about Steele," she said. "I don't know why he's supposed to be at the farm, but he is. I need you to be honest with him. Teach him. Correct him. Tell me how he's really doing." Nerves ran through Gerty again, much the way the wind whistled across the front of the truck. "Okay?"

"Yes, ma'am," Tag said. "Thanks for telling me."

Gerty nodded, the unrest inside her finally leaking out. They drove along in silence for a bit, and then Tag put on the radio. He had a nice singing voice, and Gerty even found herself humming along to a tune or two.

When they stopped for lunch, Gerty got out and stretched her arms above her head. Then she met Tag and together, they went into the little diner in a little town she didn't know the name of.

"I know what you can talk about with Opal's parents tonight," she said.

Tag picked up the menu and gave her a curious look. "Go on."

"Opal," she said. "And how amazing she was with Boots." She grinned. "Whenever I'm in a tight spot in the conversation, I always give someone a compliment—and Mike's parents like hearing how amazing their son is."

"Yes, but you're married to him," Tag said. "I can't just spout off about how—how amazing Opal is. Then they'll think I'm in love with her or something."

"Oh, stop it. They will not."

"They will," he said.

"Okay, well, it was just a suggestion."

By the time Tag pulled up to Wes and Bree's house, the sun had set and the headlights had to carve their way through the darkness. Tag put the truck in park and exhaled out mightily. "We made it."

Gerty's legs ached along with her head, and she didn't answer as she slid from the truck. Winter here had already bitten in deep, though no snow lingered on the ground. She couldn't linger out here, and the front door opened anyway.

"You made it," Wes said, and Gerty put a smile on her face before she turned to face him.

"Hey." She laughed as she hurried up the sidewalk to hug him. He laughed too, and Gerty sure did love Mikey's daddy. "Oh, you're looking good," she said. "No cane tonight?"

"He should be using it," Bree said. "He's being naughty." She came down the steps and hugged Gerty too. "You made good time with the wind."

"Tag drove," she said.

"I'm eighty years old," Wes said. "I can't be naughty."

His wife just gave him a pointed look and then turned her attention to Tag coming up the sidewalk. He had Gerty's backpack with him, along with his overnight bag, and he gave everyone a smile. "Howdy."

"Taggart," Bree said, and Gerty fell to the side to watch this exchange. Perhaps she'd text Opal about it, but one look at Tag's face, and Gerty knew he'd be the one telling her about it.

"It's just Tag, ma'am." He put down the bags and extended his hand for her to shake. She stepped in and hugged him.

"It's great to see you again," she said. Bree could have sharp eyes when she wanted to, as could Wes, and Gerty saw and felt all the razors and knives as they both looked at him.

"Come on in," Wes said as he shook Tag's hand. "Supper's almost ready, right, sweetheart?" He cut a look over to his wife, and Bree nearly jumped out of her skin.

"Yes," she said. "Yes, dinner is ready. Why are we standing out in the cold?" She turned and bustled toward the front door, and Wes limped along behind her.

Gerty looked at Tag and reached for her backpack, but he simply nodded her up the sidewalk too. So she let him carry her bag inside, feeling a little bit like she was leading a lamb to the slaughter.

Then she reminded herself that Tag could handle himself, and that included with Opal's parents. She hoped.