The Dreaded Day

I got very little sleep last night. My senses seemed to be heightened to the extremes. For the first time, I heard the animals from the field, the wind rustling through the trees, and every creak the old house made.

Frankie made a will a while ago, after Nora passed, and it’s been on my mind all night. He hadn’t changed it as far as I’m aware, and I really hope he left whatever he had to the men who supported and loved him like family.

He loved the Kinsley guys. I don’t know what money he had behind him, but my dad implied that he had some money that he refused to spend.

~The old boy was a bit of a tight git on the sly.~

The loss of Frankie has brought me and Dad closer. Dad has started to open up more about mom and tell me stories of the past. I feel like I’m starting to learn about her as a person for the first time in my life.

I don’t know if he will shift back to his old ways when he’s not in Nashville, but for now, he’s an open book and I’m binge reading.

The plan is for everyone to come back to Frankie’s after the funeral, so I’ve sorted the house. Dawn helped and brought tons of food, which now fills the fridge and kitchen.

It’s a warm, dry day with a slight chill in the air. I shudder as Dad and I wait on the porch for people to arrive.

The Kinsleys’ trucks are the first ones to pull in. I watch Tobias as he climbs out of Tanner’s truck. My eyes trail him in his black suit and white shirt. His eyes are on the dirt on the ground.

“How y’all holding up?” Antony inquires.

I jump at his presence and my eyes finally leave Tobias.

“As well as can be expected,” I reply.

He puts his warm arm around my tense shoulders and squeezes me tight.

“What about you guys? Are the lads doing okay?” I ask.

He nods. “It’s Tobias we have to watch. He looks like the strongest one out of them, but he’s always been the sensitive one.”

My eyes draw back to him as he stands with his brothers. He holds back from conversation while they chat and support each other.

I can’t leave him alone with this, so when Antony starts to talk to my dad, I head over to him.

His gaze lifts as I stop beside him. I slip my hand into his and he clenches it tight. It’s a comfort when his arm brushes close to me, and I breathe in his woody aftershave to try and think about better times.

I think about the times we sat on the porch with Frankie, laughing. He always thought we were crazy with our “youngness.”

Half the time, he said he didn’t understand what we were talking about, but he laughed anyway because he did love to laugh.

More people arrive. A lot of them I recognize from church, some from the bars and shops in town. Hell, the whole town seems to have turned out for Frankie.

Tobias talks with some as they approach us. I continue to hang off his arm like a bracelet charm.

Even though we don’t talk directly, he lets me know how he is every now and again by rubbing his finger across my hand or tightening his grip. Mostly we stand, just the two of us, blending into the background.

The funeral goes in the blink of an eye. The tears, the laughter, the frustration of what might have been avoided all come out when people start to have a drink.

The house is loud, and people fill each room. Some linger on the porch while the younger ones hang around the grass and garden area playing and running around.

I haven’t seen Tobias in a while, and I walk around the porch in search of him. He’s still been quiet and distant.

He seems to be the type who throws himself into everything when he’s struggling.

If he’s not been at work doing something or another, he’s locked in that darn barn sanding wood or strumming his guitar, like an overactive child after a bumper box of Nerds, flitting from one thing to another.

Yesterday as I jogged past his house early, I heard him playing. I stopped to listen for a while, lost in his music as his husky voice told a sad story in tune with his guitar. I could never get bored of that voice.

“Hey, you seen Tobias?” I ask Travis as I pass him.

He shakes his head, and I take my phone out to call him.

“Where are you?” I ask when he answers.

“At the stables,” he replies. “Just about to take Jack out.”

“Can I join you?” I ask.

~Silence.~

I hear him take in a deep breath on the other end of the phone. “Sure, wear something practical.”

I dash back into the house to get changed out of my black dress. I want nothing more than to get out of here. My dad spots me coming down the stairs in my jeans and hoodie.

“Where you off to?” he asks.

“I’m going riding with Tobias. It helps clear my head,” I reply.

His face stiffens, and Travis joins the conversation just as my dad is about to object.

“Can we just let them be? Let El make her own decision about my brother, she’s not a goddamn child.” The whiskey in his hand shakes as he thrusts it up and down as he speaks.

My dad’s taken aback by Travis’s harsh tone, and I smile at him, recognizing that I am grateful for his intrusion.

Even in his drunken slurs, Travis is right. It is my decision, and although the time here has made me closer to my dad, I still find myself wondering what I have to go back to England for.

There’s the fact that it’s my home and all I have ever known, but I don’t think it will be for Dad.

It’s like when people emigrate to Australia and return, you always wonder why. I bet they don’t know why themselves—it sure isn’t for the climate, but it’s what they know. It’s their way!

I love being British, the big city of London, the hustle and bustle of it all, the shops dressed at Christmas, the bars busy and the cocktails flowing. I think I will always be pulled toward my familiar—my home.

I smile and my pace speeds when Tobias comes into view. He still has his black trousers and white shirt on.

“I thought you said dress appropriately,” I shout as I get closer.

He smirks and follows me into the stables.

“You didn’t want to stay around everyone either?” he asks.

“Nope,” I reply.

“Come on, then, let’s get out of here.” He smiles as he saddles up the horses and we get on our way.

We move slowly as my horse isn’t playing ball again. I’m beginning to take it personally.

“What’s wrong with this horse?” I complain. It’s starting to get embarrassing.

Tobias laughs. “He can feel your stress. Relax, work with him.”

We go for miles, and as the time goes on, I get better. We’re moving at more of a tortoise pace than snail pace now.

“I’m sorry for holding you back on your ride again,” I say.

“Don’t be sorry. I’d rather move slow with you than in the fast lane alone.”

I turn and smile. “Smooth, cowboy, very smooth.”

“Well, I’m kinda getting used to this slow pace. You’re making me wait, princess. You’re really making me hang in there.”

“Tobias,” I scorn.

He laughs and speeds off on Jack. It’s just nice to see the smile on his face again.

“Hey, wait up, cowboy, I want to stop here and do something.”

He dismounts Jack and helps me off my horse.

“What you up to?” he asks as he takes the reins.

The sun is going down behind him and the orange color that fills the skyline looks stunning. I pull my camera out of my bag. When he spots it, he shakes his head in protest.

“No way, girl, you ain’t snapping me with that thing.”

“Come on, Tobias,” I plead. “Let me get some shots of your hot ass. Pictures of you will really help my website grow.”

He smirks and looks at me from under those amazing lashes. That’s just the shot I need, but I may just keep that one for myself.

He gives in and lets me take some pictures of him with the great landscape that God himself created. I step closer to him as he clings onto Jack’s reins.

He watches me undo his shirt so his chest is exposed.

“That’s better,” I say as I step back and snap a couple more of him looking all embarrassed and shy.

I don’t intend to use these for public viewing; these are for my own personal collection.

“Hey, do you think he’s up there watching us?” I ask as I snap some more unexpected shots of him.

“Yeah, sure. If I know Frankie, he will be sitting with a bourbon in one hand and Nora in the other.”

I grin. “I hope so.” For the first time, I wish I was a believer. Tobias seems so sure that Frankie will be in a better place, and I can see how it makes losing someone a bit easier.

“It would be nice if there was a heaven,” I add.

“Wow, princess, how much have you had to drink?”

“Not as much as you, cowboy,” I say as I flutter my lashes at him.

He leans over in his snazzy white unbuttoned shirt and puckers his lips. I laugh and playfully nudge his shoulder.

“What are you doing?” I ask as my cheeks flush.

“Offering you a kiss,” he smiles.

“Well, how can I refuse that gorgeous face and those lips?” I frown—he knows I can’t resist him, but I need to tell him first. “I’m going back to England.”

There, I said it. I stiffen as I wait for his response.

It’s a few seconds before he reacts, his playful face becomes serious, then he nods. I’m struggling to read his reaction. He finally takes a deep breath in and looks me directly in the eye.

“If that’s what you need to do, princess, then that’s what you need to do.”

My hands go to his bare chest as my eyes fill. I don’t want to cry here. I don’t want him to feel bad for me.

“It’s been so hard, and now Frankie is…,” I start to ramble.

He lifts his forefinger and places it gently on my lips. Then his mouth comes down and silences me.

I feel like I need to justify my decision. My explanations have been running around my head all week, but he doesn’t want to hear them.

He has accepted my decision, and I realize after this moment with him, I will never get to touch him like this again.