Beth went in the opposite direction and got TJ’s pants and white shirt out of his top drawer. She helped him get everything where it should be, and by some miracle, the three of them ended up in Trey’s truck right when it was time to leave.
Trey pulled up to the dark gray building fifteen minutes later, and Beth immediately reached for her bag and got out of the truck. TJ slid over on the seat, following her, and she slammed the door behind her.
She’d taken a few steps toward the entrance when she realized Trey wasn’t coming too. She paused and looked over her shoulder. The weak winter sun glinted off the windshield in such a way that she couldn’t see Trey sitting behind the wheel.
Just go.
The words ran through her mind, and she smiled in Trey’s direction, hoping that conveyed to him that he could take his time and come in when he was ready. “Come on, baby,” she said, taking TJ’s hand. “Let’s go find Grandpa.”
Beth took her son up the steps and into the church, the sun at such an angle that colored light danced through the foyer and chapel from the stained glass windows. TJ skipped ahead of her when he saw his grandfather, and Beth followed him.
“Daddy,” she said in a low voice, setting her bag on the end of the pew. “Can you handle TJ for a minute?”
“Sure,” he said, looking at her with surprise. “Why?”
“I just need to go grab something I left in the car.” She indicated her bag. “There are snacks in here if you need them.” She walked away before her father could ask more questions. She had left something in the car—her husband.
Something had told her to walk away in the beginning, but that same feeling was telling her to go back and find out if there was anything she could do to help him find the strength to come inside the chapel.
Her door wasn’t unlocked, and when she opened it, Trey yelped. “Sorry,” she said. “I thought you’d see me.”
“I had my eyes closed.”
She got back in the passenger seat and closed the door. Her heart pounded and she didn’t know what to say. With a couple of breaths, her mind settled. “When I got home from Danny’s funeral, I had no idea how to go on.”
Beth hadn’t anticipated telling this story, but it was there, right on the end of her tongue. “I’d been surrounded by people for so long. The house was entirely too quiet. Kait and Hugh had taken TJ, probably as a favor to me.” She stared straight out the front windshield. “I’m not really sure. I don’t remember conversations from that time.”
“I’m sure you don’t,” he said quietly.
“I had no idea how to do anything,” she said. “I couldn’t make dinner, and I couldn’t shower. I just laid on the couch until Hugh came the next morning. With him there, I was able to eat, and we went out on the farm together. I’m not sure what we did or said, but it was easier when I wasn’t alone.”
She turned toward him. “Eventually, I learned how to do things by myself. You don’t have to go through this alone. I’ll walk in with you. I’ll sit right beside you. You can squeeze my hand as hard as you want. TJ will probably sit on your lap. My daddy will give you a hug.” She stopped, because her emotion surged up her throat and choked her.
Swallowing against it, she reached her hand toward him. “Will you come in with me?”
Trey started nodding before she finished asking the question. He laced his fingers through hers and lifted her hand to his lips. “Yes,” he whispered.
Beth tried to smile, but it fell away quickly. “Stay there.” She slid from the truck and went around to his door. She didn’t want him to have to take even one step alone. She took his hand before he got out of the truck, and she held it all the way across the parking lot to the church.
They went up the steps together, and Beth heard the choir singing. The sermon hadn’t started yet, and by the sound of it, the choir had just started their welcome song. Her heart filled with love and gratitude, and when she stepped down the row where her father sat with TJ, Trey was still right beside her.
He sat on the end after putting her bag on the floor near his feet. Beth stayed close to him, her leg pressing into his, and she looked up at him, questions moving through her. “Okay?” she asked.
“Yes,” he whispered, his eyes scanning the front of the chapel. The choir stood up there in their poinsettia-red robes, their angelic voices filling the rafters with song. For a moment, she thought he might be looking for the nearest exit, and that he’d bolt at any moment.
When the choir started singing the first Christmas hymn, he visibly relaxed, and he released the vice-grip on her hand and lifted his arm around her shoulder. He bent his head toward hers, and she inched into his side a little more.
“Thank you, Beth,” he whispered, and she once again took a moment to commit this scenario to memory.
* * *
“Come on, Momma,”Beth said later that day, grunting with the effort it took her to pull on the calf’s legs. All at once, the calf released, sliding out of his mother and onto the straw-covered cement in the birthing barn. Beth fell backward, crying out though she tried not to.
Walter moved in, a towel in each hand, and started rubbing the calf while he watched her. “You okay?”
“Yes,” she said. The calf’s mother lowed, and Beth got to her feet quickly though her lower back pinched. She released the heifer from the restraints she’d put her in so they could assist with her calf’s birth. The mother cow went to her baby, and the bond they had was exactly the same one Beth had experienced when the nurse had first laid TJ on her chest, only moments after his birth.
“That’s sixty-seven,” Walter said. “I think you’re going to have a huge herd this year.” He grinned at Beth, and she smiled back at him. It was nice to have help on the farm, she could admit that. Really, really nice.