Page 84 of Ride or Die

“I brought some barbecue from the turnout,” she calls back to us. “And I made a few things.”

As I follow Clara and the kids into the kitchen, I can’t help but laugh at the sight. A few things? Aluminum trays line the limited counter space, full of brisket, ribs, sausage, and wings. There’s a bowl of Mama Joy’s famous potato salad, green beans, and a plate full of warm biscuits, fresh out the oven. There’s enough to feed a small army and thank Christ too, because I didn’t realize how hungry I was until I caught a whiff. I ain’t eaten since breakfast and my stomach is growling like a wild boar.

“Mama Joy!” Clara says on a gasp. “You really didn’t have to do all this.”

“Oh, baby, that’s what I’m here for.” Mama Joy waves a hand. “Now y’all sit and eat. I made Tommy’s favorite sweet tea.” She ruffles Tom’s hair on her way to the fridge and Clara glances at me like she’s not quite sure what to think.

I sidle up next to her and place my hand on her waist, leaning in close enough to press a reassuring kiss to her temple.

After we’re all done eating, I know Clara is exhausted. Billie had a mini-meltdown when she finally realized after all the drama, she’d missed the turnout. Apparently she’d been looking forward to it for days, desperate to pet a real horse. I promised her she could stop by the ranch any time she wants and I can introduce her to Soldier which helped to settle her enough so that Clara could get her into the tub while Mama Joy and I cleaned up the kitchen.

Now, as they walk out of the bathroom, Clara carrying a sleepy Billie dressed in her pjs, I turn and rest against the counter watching on as Billie says, “I wanna sleep with Tommy.”

“Aw, sweetie, your brother’s already asleep. And his arm is really sore,” Clara says. “I don’t want you to accidentally roll onto him in the middle of the night. But you can keep watch over him from your bed.”

“But I want to keep watch over him in his bed.” Billie’s bottom lip pops out, tears brimming in her eyes. I know she’s just over-tired, but seeing Clara struggling, on the verge of losing whatever cool she’s barely hanging onto, I feel a need in my gut to try and make everything better.

“You want me to read you your bedtime story, Miss Billie?” I ask, stepping up.

“I want Daddy,” Billie whines, burying her face into the crook of her mama’s neck, which is exactly when I see all the blood drain from Clara’s face. She wasn’t expecting that, and I can tell it hit her hard.

Before I can try again, Mama Joy steps in, holding her arms out. “How about Mama Joy, baby?”

“I’ve got it!” Clara snaps unexpectedly, and I see Mama Joy flinch beside me.

When Clara’s eyes glance in my direction I hold my hands up in surrender and take a step back, letting her walk past me and through the doorway. When I hear the click of the bedroom door I release a breath, turning to Mama Joy to find a soft, reassuring smile on her face.

“She’s just tired, baby,” she assures me, squeezing my arm. “Tired and no doubt an emotional wreck after what happened today.”

I nod, tugging on the back of my neck as I look around the kitchen for nothing in particular. “Yeah, I know.” I manage a tight smile.

Mama Joy walks back to the sink to finish the last of the dishes, and I move in next to her, grabbing the dish towel to dry them off.

“I’ve never seen you like this with a woman before,” she says after a silent beat, and when I look at her from the corner of my eye, I don’t miss the smile that ghosts her lips as she stares down into the bubbles. “You in love, baby?”

I snort incredulously. “No.”

“Coulda fooled me,” she murmurs.

I shake my head.

“I’ve seen that look before.”

“Oh yeah? Whatlookwould that be?” I sigh, drying off the salad bowl.

“The look in your eye when you was watchin’ her just now.”

I roll my eyes, huffing another snort.

“It’s the same look I saw it in Dallas’ eye the first time he bought Emily home for Christmas.” She offers me a pointed look then, and the way she talks about her son, my best friend, andhis now wife, I feel a sudden lump form in the back of my throat because fuck, I think she might be right. I am in love with Clara. Hell, I’d be a goddamn fool to even try and deny it.

As if she knows exactly what I’m thinking, Mama Joy smiles smugly, looking back down into the sink. “Your secret’s safe with me, baby.”

The front door hinges creak behind me and I turn to look over my shoulder, finding Clara pad tentatively out onto the porch, freshly showered, dressed in sleep shorts and an oversized T-shirt, hands wringing nervously in front of her.

When she came out after getting Billie to sleep, Mama Joy had left. I could see the regret written over her face, and I knew she felt bad, like somehow she’d chased her off with the way she snapped earlier. I assured her Mama Joy was absolutely fine—which she was—but then Clara started crying and my heart just about tore in two.

I held her against my chest for a long moment, letting her cry until she had no tears left, and then I took her into the bathroom, started the water in the shower until the small space was full of steam. I ordered her to have a nice, long shower, promising that I’d be here when she got out. And, here I am. Because I ain’t leavin’ her. Not now. Not ever.