Her dress falls in soft folds to her knees, her hair pinned at the back of her head with loose strands framing her face. She takes her place at the front, gripping the lectern with both hands.
Her voice starts strong, but fear stutters through it. She speaks about a father who was flawed but loved her the only way he knew how. A man who saved strays, who broke fences so the deer wouldn’t get trapped.
She describes nights spent listening to old records, his hum drifting through their small living room like a balm.
Her voice cracks. Just a breath. Just a small tremble in her chest. She looks toward the back, and her eyes land on someone behind me.
I turn.
Billy stands at the end of the aisle, dressed in a black dress shirt tucked into black jeans, boots still dusted from the field.
His hair is damp, like he showered in a rush, and his expression holds something raw. He shifts forward and joins us in the back row, sliding into the space beside me.
I place a hand over his and squeeze. His skin feels warm. He doesn’t look at me. He just nods once, barely noticeable.
“Thank you for coming,” I murmur.
He doesn’t respond. His eyes stay fixed on Sedona, his jaw tight with something he will never say out loud.
The service continues with prayers and songs. People sniffle into tissues. Some hold each other’s shoulders.
When the final amen rolls through the room, we rise with everyone else. The procession forms, moving toward the cemetery behind the church.
The three of us walk together. Seth on my left, Billy on my right.
The sky above is pale with thin clouds drifting like stretched cotton. Red and orange leaves scatter across the ground with each step we take.
At the gravesite, Sedona stands at the head of the casket while the pastor speaks. Her shoulders curl inward. Clara wraps an arm around her.
The blond man steps closer and she leans into both of them. The sight tightens something in my chest.
People lay flowers. Earth hits the wooden casket with soft thuds. Sedona’s breath shudders in her chest as she presses a kiss to her fingertips and touches them to the corner of the casket.
Her face breaks, and Clara gathers her close. The man does the same, his hand on her back.
I look away. Looking at her hurts more than I want to admit.
When the final handful of earth falls, the mayor steps forward. “There will be a gathering at The Dusty Boot. It was the doctor’s favorite saloon. Anyone who knew him is welcome.”
People nod, already drifting toward their cars. Clara and the blond man guide Sedona toward the parking lot. She walks like her knees might buckle, relying on both of them to hold her up.
I glance at Billy. His throat moves in a rough swallow. His eyes stay locked on Sedona as if he is watching a part of himself walk away.
Seth stands on his other side, jaw clenched, gaze fixed on her too.
In another life, we would be the ones beside her. In another life, Billy would have been the man holding her up. I would have been the one at her other side, steadying her.
All of that disappeared the night she left.
Now all we can do is watch the three of them disappear into the crowd, a reminder of how everything can change in a single moment and never change back.
Billy’s gaze stays locked on Sedona long after she disappears into the crowd. His body goes still, arms crossed over his chest, breath shallow, jaw tight like he is holding together everything that could spill out if he let it.
I shift on my boots and look between him and Seth. “You two heading to the gathering?”
Billy shakes his head. He turns toward me, eyes shadowed. “I’m heading back to the ranch.”
“Me too,” Seth says, already adjusting his jacket like he can’t wait to peel out of it.
