Page 27 of We Drank the Dawn

Gracious, she looked just like Tag.

“Hi, Wren!” My pitch jumped an octave. “Oh my goodness you are so big.”

“Mama!”

I stepped to the side so she could see her mom behind me. “She’s right there.” I pointed at Bea who was hugging Peter for a second time. I reached out my hands. “Can I hold you?”

Wren calculated, her eyes darting between me and Bea, then held her hands up. I scooped her body into my arms, loving the way her bare chunky thighs gripped my waist. Unable to stop myself, I gave her leg a squeeze. What were they feeding this kid?

Wren’s pointer finger jabbed Bea’s direction. “Mama!”

As I walked, Wren nearly fell from my arms trying to escape into Bea’s. Laughing, I off-loaded the little user to her mother, and our party of seven moved to the front porch. A smile rested on Peter’s face, but I could see the concealed strain in his eyes. He’d grabbed his long cane from the front seat and swiped it side-to-side ahead of his feet. Hollie had linked arms with him, guiding him along.

I wished I could read him or predict the conversation that awaited us later. Would he be angry at me for dragging him down there? Or maybe relieved that we had come?

“Okay, so did you get stuck in traffic?” Bea asked. “Tag said the road work is getting ridiculous.”

I groaned. “Yes, we did. For almost an hour.” Hollie directed us into the wicker chairs and I drooped with relief at the pitcher of iced lemonade and cookies on the table. The chocolate chips glistened—warm from the oven. “Oh! That looks so good.”

Hollie chimed, “Have as much as you want. I figured you guys would be famished.”

I poured two cups of lemonade and plucked two cookies with a napkin, handing one of each to Peter, narrating as I did so. “Cookie and lemonade.”

We caught up as I ate too much. After a while, Hollie got up to put the chicken in the oven. Then Wren fussed, whacking Bea’s chest with her hand until Bea relented and placed her on her lap. With effortlessness I admired, Bea nursed Wren while her little feet happily kicked the back of the porch swing.

Motherhood suited Bea.

I wondered if it would suit me. Or if I’d ever get the chance to find out.

Hollie disappeared into the kitchen again, calling her daughters to help her set the table. And, one by one, cowboys meandered across the barnyard, making their way to the side of the house. Bea lingered on the front porch, her eyes trained to the spot where the driveway wrapped past the barn. Then she gasped, looking down at her baby with wild, wide eyes. “Wren! You hear Dada’s vroom-vroom?”

Wren let out a blood curdling scream that would’ve scared me if it weren’t for the toothy smile splitting her face open. She flapped her arms and sang, “Dada! Dada!”

Bea laughed as she set Wren on the porch and tossed us a smile, explaining their excitement. “Tag left before we woke up this morning. And Wren is a bit of a daddy’s girl.”

“Aw. She’s so happy!” I glanced at Peter, who was grasping his cup of lemonade to his chest. The smile on his face looked thin.

Sure enough, a gigantic black pick-up truck rounded the corner and rolled to a stop near the front of the house while Wren jumped up and down. From what I had gathered about Tag, he was sweet but very reserved. His conversation was cordial, but he didn’t talk a lot unless he had to. Which made him rather difficult to get to know.

But the way his face lit up for his baby? Oh, that man was smitten.

He scooped Wren up and flopped her across the top of his shoulder, and she exploded in giggles. Bea joined them on the driveway, and the three shared a group hug that made my heart ache. All of Peter’s worries about Bea throwing away her opportunities as a musician were for naught. Her cheeks were red and healthy and sparkles escaped through her eyes every time she smiled.

She was the most beautiful I’d ever seen her.

Tag, zoned in on his girls, situated Wren against his chest and bent to kiss Bea’s lips. Bea went to her toes and tilted her head to navigate under the brim of his hat. Though the kiss was family friendly, it lingered and they grinned ear-to-ear when they parted. Tag’s cheeks flushed when he looked up and saw Peter and I perched on the porch.

“Oh, hey.” He came up the stairs, Wren still clinging to his neck. “Glad y’all made it in.”

Peter stood and quickly suspended his hand in Tag’s direction. “Hey, man. Thanks for having us.”

Peter had learned to lift his hand first that way the seeing person could fill it versus the other way around. There were hundreds of little things like that a person wouldn't consider awkward until they had to do it in the dark.

Tag gave him a respectable shake. “We’re so glad you came. You made Bea’s entire month.” I pushed forward to give him a hug, which he returned, gently clapping me on the back of my shoulder. “Good to see you, Sarah.”

I hooked my arm through Peter’s and walked with him around the porch until we found a giant picnic table where everyone settled. A few minutes later, Jesse, Cade, and Cooper joined us and we scootched closer to accommodate everyone.

Both Jesse and Cade gave me a hug and welcomed us to the ranch, and we met the new cowboys—Rudy and Cody. Cooper and Harlan shook Peter’s hand then we ate the most divine cheesy, chicken casserole I’d ever had. Between the main dish, the hot bread rolls, green beans, salad, and sweet tea, I was stuffed.