“Yeah,” she said, breaking their connection. “I don’t want your money, Spur. You know that’s not why I asked you to help me, right?”
“I know that.” He held her close to his chest, despite the heat. “Why did you ask me?”
“You trampled my flowers.”
“So if Cayden had done that, or Ian, or Conrad, you’d have asked them?” He pulled away and looked at her. Anxiety ran through her expression, and Spur thought he had the answer.
“No,” she said. “I’ve always known you the best, Spur. I would’ve asked you without the sheep incident.”
“Yeah? You know there’s a website to get dates for a party or a wedding or whatever.”
“Have you used that site?” she asked, plenty of incredulity in her voice.
“No, I’ve just heard about it.”
“It’s a creeper site,” she said. “Women should not be using it.”
Spur didn’t really know what that meant, so he said nothing. She would’ve asked him. She kissed him like they were way more than friends. He didn’t need her to spell everything out for him the way he had for her.
“Is there any coffee left?” he asked, slinging his arm around her shoulders. “Are you gonna come help me with these gladiolus? I didn’t ruin any of them, you know.”
She smiled and tucked her hair behind her ear. “Yeah, I’ll come help. Let’s have coffee first.”
* * *
Spur tooka deep breath and offered up that prayer he’d considered that morning. Then he strode up the sidewalk to his parents’ front door. His mother’s hanging flower pots gave the air a fresh fragrance, something Spur would’ve never noticed before his relationship with Olli.
“Your relationship,” he muttered to himself, still a little surprised he had a relationship with a woman.
He reached the door and opened it as he called, “Ma? Daddy?”
“On the upper verandah,” his mother called, and Spur worked hard not to roll his eyes. It wouldn’t matter if he did, though, as the “upper verandah” was just the back porch. He crossed through the small house to the open back door and stepped onto the lower deck. Several feet up sat the upper deck, and it got more shade at this time of day due to the huge trees on that side of the house.
“Hey.” He climbed the steps and sat in an available chair. “How are you feeling, Daddy?”
“Good today,” he said.
“He hasn’t needed a painkiller since breakfast,” Ma said, and Spur smiled.
“That’s great.” He leaned his forearms on his knees and looked at the ground. His cowboy boots were filthy, and he probably should’ve kicked them off by the front door.
“What brings you by?” his mother asked.
Spur looked up at her, his neck growing tired after only a moment. “Do you really want to know?”
“You came over,” she said, lifting a glass of iced sweet tea to her lips.
“I know, but do you really want the truth?” He flicked his gaze to his father, who wore a resigned look. He wanted the truth, Spur knew.
“You’re going to say what you want anyway,” Mom said. “Just say it.”
“I don’t want to hurt your feelings,” he said, because he genuinely didn’t.
She finally looked at him, her eyes wide and full of vulnerability. “I’ll let you know if I want you to stop.”
Spur nodded, trying to organize the words in his mind. The hard conversations always fell to him. He’d been the one to show up at the house and tell his father that he had to get a hearing aid or he and the other brothers weren’t going to let him go to auctions anymore.
He’d been the one to come to the house and tell his parents that Ian’s wife had tried to steal from him. He’d been the one to come bearing the bad news that their prize horse, the one they’d invested hundreds of thousands of hours and dollars in, had fallen and broken a leg.