Page 119 of Cole’s Dilemma

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As for himself, Cole had brought a Frosted Flame Snapdragon. He carried the red-and-yellow flower with roughly the same pride that he had when he’d cradled them in the grubby hands of a four-year-old when he’d presented them so proudly to Momma.

Only years later had Cole heard the story from her point of view. Apparently she’d cried because she’d been so frustrated that he’d cleaned out her flowerbed of her prized snapdragons. He hadn’t a clue—she’d been so sweet about the whole thing. Momma always said, more than once, that her gardens were wonderful, but her boys were even more so.

And now, as Cole looked around him, he realized that Momma had left behind her magnificent gardens for her sons to nurture and enjoy. This was her final gift to them. She always had a way of making things beautiful. And somehow, she’d found the prettiest time of year for her celebration of life and also, perhaps, the most symbolic.

The gentle falling snowflakes were like angels dancing and flying through celestial pathways as they settled over the rose garden. The frozen elements crystalized the bushes and trees in place, forcing the vegetation to wait through a stark winter until they could bloom again in the spring.

Presently, they appeared as statues that would stay fixed for eternity, but just like Cole’s loved ones—temporarily lost—they would wake again.

Pip howled in anguish ahead of where Cole walked. He wailed about a toy car he’d left behind in the truck while Liv tried to console him. She carried her sweet four-month-old baby against her bosom while she tried to settle her tormented six-year-old. River was too far away to help. He wrestled with the baby carriage to get it across the lawn. The guitar he planned to play for Momma’s celebration was strapped over his shoulder.

Cole scooped up Pip, setting him on his shoulders. His light gray jacket pulled at his arms where his stitches were. The wounds from Lynch’s attack were healing, but his heart wasn’t as lucky.

“No, no,” Liv said, laughing slightly, “not with your suit, Cole.”

“It’s all good,” he said. It wasn’t like he was in his Sunday best.

The usual black used for mourning was expressly not allowed. They’d all been told to dress in something cheerful, and so Cole had complied, though that meant his second-best dress coat, a white dress shirt, and light gray jeans.

He’d almost laughed grimly at the thought of Eva catching him in jeans again, but she’d given him these ones, so he figured they were okay. They were stylish, but he had no intention of ever wearing them again after this.

Eva was the fancy one.

He was just the rancher who loved her.

His stomach tightened like it did with every thought of her. He’d failed her. He should’ve known that she was saying goodbye that night. Her daddy had locked her in the tower, and he couldn’t even find a strand of hair to climb back into her life.

“Don’t you dare get your uncle dirty, Pip,” Liv warned her son, breaking through Cole’s dark musings. “Sorry, Cole, it’s just that you look so nice.”

He nodded in numb acceptance. All the guests lent brightness to this wintry setting with their cheery colors, and his ex-sister-in-law was no exception. She wore a flowy floral dress. He cleared his throat, trying to act as chipper as he was supposed to. “So do you, sis.”

She jerked in surprise at the term of endearment, but Cole wasn’t about to take it back. Liv might not be married to West anymore, but she’d always be family.

“What do you think, Pip?” Cole asked. “Do you like all the pretty colors of dresses?”

The little guy had immediately stopped crying as he surveyed the world in his newly elevated perch. “Uh huh.” His daisy whacked Cole across the forehead.

“Did you bring that for Mampa?” Cole asked his nephew. He’d never been sure which grandchild had nicknamed his momma that, because both Charlie and Pip had troubles saying “Grandma” in the beginning.

“Yes!” Pip said solemnly. “She’s in heaven.”

“She will love your daisy,” Cole said. “Of course, she loves you even more.” He squeezed Pip’s side, making the boy laugh. Cheering up West’s son made Cole feel better, even if he was infuriated with his older brother.

He hadn’t seen much of West since their momma had passed away. His brother had gone up to Nashville where he was likely hanging out with Eva. Cole had done everything to get to her, had even driven over to talk to her, but she was hiding from him.

Eva wouldn’t do that if she was lying to him about the way she felt. They were right for each other, and she knew it. West had done something to get in between them. Cole was absolutely certain of it.

His insides felt tight and uneasy at not seeing her; the feeling was different than how he mourned his momma. He’d miss her until they reunited again in heaven; she was a bright light missing in this world, but Eva? Eva washere. Her soul called out to him. She needed him, and yet she was hiding where he couldn’t reach her.

Turmoil wrestled with his hurt, keeping him up most nights because he couldn’t get to her.

The instant that West showed up at their momma’s celebration of life, Cole would get to the bottom of this mess, even if he had to drag his older brother through his momma’s rose garden and shake the truth out of him.

His momma wouldn’t be happy to see them wrestling in all their finery, but she’d understand his heart was in the right place. Cole had spent hours talking to her about Eva and how things were between them. That was before Momma had lost her ability to comprehend, and then he took turns with his family holding her.

Their last hours together had been both tender and heartbreaking, something that no one would be able to understand unless they’d gone through the process of losing a loved one this way, but throughout his ordeal, one thing that kept coming to him was the importance of a loving family.

They were the ones who were with you when it mattered most.


Tags: Stephanie Fowers Romance