“Nothing about when she’s coming back?”
Betsy shook her head.
“And you’re okay with that?”
“What can I do? She’s six hours away, at least. I can’t sit her down and force her to talk to me.”
“Did she tell you any more about this extension? Or what she thinks is going to happen when it’s over?”
“I don’t know any details. Just that she had a breakthrough and wasn’t ready to pack everything up and leave just yet. They gave her the chance to stay longer and she took it.”
Ty sat back down and picked up his legal pad again. Crossed out a few words, wrote them again. Pulled his cap off. “What are we supposed to do?”
“Nothing. We can’t kick them out. It’s not their fault.” She reached up and tucked a loose strand of hair into the knot at the back of her head. When it fell down into her eyes again, she swatted it away.
“That’s not what I mean. I know we need to take care of them. I want to do that. It’s just . . . It’s frustrating that she only thinks about herself. Not about how this affects anyone else.”
Their whispered conversation stopped when Addie ran back into the barn. “Can I feed one of the cows?”
Ty exhaled and stood. “I think I know of a girl who needs a late-night snack. Come on.” He glanced back at Betsy, then led the girls to Rosie’s stall along the back wall of the barn. Rosie stood facing out to the barn, as if she’d been expecting guests. Ty dipped a cup into a bag of oats hanging on the wall and handed it to Addie. “Here. Hold this up to her mouth.” Addie giggled when Rosie stuck her tongue down into the cup.
Ty tugged on Betsy’s arm and they moved a few steps away from the girls. “I know she’s your sister and we need to help,” he whispered. “There’s just got to be a limit to how much we can do.”
She took a deep breath and exhaled through puffed cheeks. “Fine. If you want them gone so bad, I’ll tell her she has to come back. Now. Tomorrow.”
Ty slapped his cap against the side of his leg. “That’s not— I don’t know what else to say, Bets. I’m not the bad guy here.”
“I know,” she said, her words clipped, her mouth tense.
He shoved his cap back on his head and pulled it down low. He was done trying to fix this tonight.
What he and Betsy had put back together in the months since they last left the clinic was like an eggshell. A fragment of what they used to have. He wanted his wife back—he wanted it all back—and he wasn’t sure they could continue to build it with the girls here. It had been hard enough with just the two of them. Well, the two of them, five farmhands, two hundred cows, and assorted knobby-kneed schoolkids darting around, making a mess of his barn.
Maybe that was the problem. Too much intrusion, not enough privacy. Maybe if things could just settle down for once—be calm and still and easy—they could get each other back.
But he was a smart enough man to know life wasn’t like that.
twenty-two
Betsy
Dawn rolled into Mobile Bay as a Category 1 hurricane, confirming Ty’s theory that the Gulf waters weren’t yet warm enough to sustain a strong storm. Despite the low rating, however, Dawn arrived at high tide, resulting in downtown Mobile covered in five feet of floodwaters. Thankfully, flooding wasn’t an issue in Elinore, twenty-five miles east of Mobile, but the gusty winds and heavy rainfall made for a rough night of sleep.
While the winds blew and rain pounded, Walsh slept and Addie cried. Ty spent the night downstairs, ready for action in case the house or barn sustained damage, and Betsy spent most of the overnight hours in and out of the girls’ room consoling Addie.
“When will it stop?” Addie sobbed as a strong gust of wind lashed the side of the house.
“Soon, soon,” Betsy murmured. She sat on the edge of the bed, rubbing what she hoped were comforting circles on Addie’s back. “Hurricanes blow hard for a few hours, but eventually they just run out of steam. Then morning will come and it’ll all be over.”
“What about the cows?” Addie sniffed. “Are they okay?”
“They’re just fine. Uncle Ty put them out in the back pasture so they’re away from trees or anything else that can hurt them.”
“I hope so. Oh, I hope Rosie isn’t scared.” Thoughts of Rosie caused a new gush of tears. Betsy grabbed a tissue from the dresser and wiped Addie’s nose. Just a few feet away, Walsh slept in peace, as if all was right with the world.
Did Addie always react like this to bad storms? Granted, this wasn’t an average thunderstorm, but Betsy and Ty had encountered much worse. Then again, Addie was only five, and hurricanes didn’t make it all the way up to Nashville. Still, Betsy wondered how often Jenna had sat up late at night with one of the girls, knowing she’d have to be at work early the next morning.
Finally, sometime after midnight, Addie lay still, exhausted by her tears and the late hour. When Betsy’s own eyes began to droop, she brushed Addie’s hair back from her face and stood to leave.
“Could you stay with me?” Addie’s voice was quiet but pleading. Betsy paused. The last time Addie had asked her to stay, she’d woken up with both girls tucked in next to her and her heart thumping.
“Please?”
Betsy sighed. “Of course I’ll stay.” But instead of lying down next to Addie, she sat on the floor next to the bed, one arm raised over her head to hold Addie’s hand. She could handle the floor, her arm falling asleep, her hand sandwiched between Addie’s small, warm ones. She woke the next morning with a crick in her neck and shoulder, but her heart felt
