Page 7 of Last Chance Cowboy
Lila had a reckless confidence to her that Cara found intimidating. And also, she didn’t know what they could do that they would both enjoy. Cara didn’t have the lay of this land yet.
Cara loved living here. It was beautiful. She had always lived somewhat in the country. Though, her family home had been in a nice neighborhood, not outside of town. But they had lived in a small town, a tight community where everyone knew each other.
It was idyllic, except for her circumstances. She could remember riding her bike around town before she could drive, picking up groceries, and taking them home in the basket on the front of her handlebars.
The owner of the grocery store would always chat with her, the baker would always wave as she rode by while he wasloading bread into his delivery truck, and ask how she was doing.
Everyone did.
They would ask how her mother was doing.
That became stifling when the answer was always bad.
When she couldn’t tell them that she was getting better. Couldn’t tell them anything at all except lies, because who wanted to pause their momentum to say:she remembers less every day, and I’m living with my mother’s ghost while she’s still breathing?
It was easier to say:She’s doing great.
She’d told herself that was a fine thing to say as long as her mother wasn’t actively dying.
It was only when her mother had been put on hospice that Cara had felt obligated to say that. When her mother passed away, she just didn’t want to stay in that town anymore.
She couldn’t imagine. Because people asking how her mother was were going to turn into people asking how she was. Or telling her stories about her mom, telling her how much they missed her.
And Cara did too.
But Cara also knew the great and terrible guilt of feeling relieved that her long years as a caregiver were over.
She didn’t think she could ever bring herself to speak those words out loud to anybody.
She got her steak and sat down. It was Marlowe who settled up next to her, looking concerned.
“Are you okay?”
“Yeah,” she said, thinking it was somewhat ironic that her sister-in-law had just asked her that when she had been thinking about how much she didn’t want random people around the town asking her that very question.
It was different with Marlowe, though. Because she actuallyknew her.
And around Mustang River, people didn’t. Which was honestly a relief. Because when they asked how she was doing, it was just a pleasantry. A light greeting.
It didn’t mean anything.
“I’m fine. Really. You know how Zane is.”
“Intense.”
“Very.” Thinking about his intensity made her shiver, and she tried to hide it by taking a particularly fierce bite of her food.
“He wasn’t mean to you, was he?”
“A little bit mean, but I can handle it.”
She and Marlowe took turns babying each other, which was a little bit silly. They were both tough, resilient. But when Marlowe had been at her lowest after Cara’s brother had left her, Cara had done her best to make sure that her sister-in-law was still doing okay.
Marlowe bumped her shoulder with her own. “You could come riding.”
Cara grimaced. “Honestly. I’m happy with a night in.”
As she drove home, she had to wonder what it was going to take to get her to make some changes. She couldn’t help but feel frustrated.
