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Teague
“You’requiet because of where we’re headed. Not because you’re mad at me, right?”
Beau shifted in her seat.
“I’m not mad at you.” I focused on the street ahead. We weren’t far from the cemetery. I shouldn’t have driven. I wasn’t in the right frame of mind.
“I didn’t mean to blurt out your business.” She fiddled with the fabric of her black dress.
“I know you didn’t.”
“Are you okay?”
I felt her stare but didn’t look over at her. “Not really.”
“Is she talking to you?”
I willed myself to have patience. “Yes. Everything is fine with Pepper.”
She pointed to the curb. “There’s a spot.”
I parallel parked the truck but didn’t immediately turn it off. I’d made it through the church service, but I hadn’t heard a word of it. Though Cassano had been in a casket at the front, it still didn’t seem true.
Watching someone lowered into the ground . . . that was when it would get real.
Beau touched my arm. “You can do this.”
Ellen was counting on me to carry Cassano to his grave. It was the least I could do for her. But if it weren’t for me, would we even be here?
I turned off the engine and shoved out of the truck. Beau had her door open by the time I came around to help her out.
She hooked her arm in mine as we trudged toward the cemetery. With every step, the past and present mingled. It was the same as that day all those years ago. Gloomy. Heavy.
The cemetery was different, but it might as well be the same. I was five and thirty-nine at the same time. There was no distinction between my mother’s funeral and Cassano's.
I’d held Beau’s hand back then. She was so little and hadn’t said a word during our mother’s services despite usually being a chatterbox.
Lincoln had held mine.
But he wasn’t here today because I hadn’t asked him to be.
Beau dug her fingers into my arm.
“Wanna ease up a bit?”
Her gaze was glued to the person waiting for us on the sidewalk just ahead. If anything, her grip tightened.
“Cal.” I thrust out my hand.
He grabbed it and shook. “Teague. Long time, man.”
We’d been in the same class in the fire academy and started out at the same station. Shortly after, he’d been moved and we only saw each other occasionally.
“Too long.”
His eyes drifted to my sister, who stood stiffly, still latched onto me.
“Beau.” He flicked his chin at her.
