Total pages in book: 61
Estimated words: 60342 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 302(@200wpm)___ 241(@250wpm)___ 201(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 60342 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 302(@200wpm)___ 241(@250wpm)___ 201(@300wpm)
“You know, Cotton,” I say, stretching my back. “I appreciate all of this … conversation, but you’re starting to freak me out a little bit.”
His features fall, and I feel like a dick.
“I’ve had a hell of a weekend, buddy,” I say, moving to Moe’s other side. “I’m sorry if I’m being an asshole.”
“You’re not. I’m freaking me out a little bit, too. Found out yesterday that I have the cancer.”
I whip around to face him. “You have cancer?”
“Of the throat.” He spits. “Probably from this here tobacco.”
“Why don’t you stop?”
“It’s gonna kill me now anyway. Might as well enjoy it till I’m gone.”
I clamp a hand around the back of my neck. What the heck?
I don’t know what to say to this old man I’ve known my entire life. Do I express condolences and make it weird? Do I blow it off like he seems to be doing? Do I ask questions? But what if he doesn’t want to talk?
My chest aches for Cotton, and my thoughts go immediately to his wife, Emma Jo. That poor woman. And their only daughter, Traci, must be heartbroken.
“Guess I could’ve said this an easier way,” he says, watching me with steely eyes. “But Emma and I are going to stay with our daughter in Chicago until … well until I die, I suppose. Traci wants us there with her, and I want the girls together when I go, too. It’ll be easier on them.”
“Damn, Cotton. I don’t know what to say.”
“Ain’t nothin’ to say. We all gotta go at some point. At least I know it’s coming and can make it as easy on everyone as I can. It’s a blessing, really.”
My head spins. He’s dying, yet it’s a blessing? How? I don’t understand.
“What do you need?” I ask earnestly. “Let me do something to help. I know Gavin and Chase will be willing to pitch in, too.”
He strolls around the stable, watching the ground as he thinks. My heart hurts as I imagine what he’s going through—and not just for himself, although that’s scary enough. I bet the heaviest things on his mind are Emma Jo and Traci.
Finally, Cotton stops next to his favorite horse and gives her a nuzzle.
“I didn’t have a son, Luke. But if I get one in the next lifetime, I hope he’s a lot like you.” He grins. “A little less hardheaded and maybe a bit more punctual …”
I swallow a lump in my throat.
“The only thing you can do for me, kid, is to live a good life. Learn that lesson I was talkin’ about earlier.”
Although I fought against it earlier, I ask to hear it now. If it’s Cotton’s last wish for me to listen to his advice, I want to do it for him. That doesn’t mean I have to abide by it.
“What lesson?” I ask.
“You got a good heart on ya. You’re a hell of a farrier and blacksmith, and you’re an even better man. Your parents did a damn good job with you.”
I sniffle, wiping my nose on my shirt sleeve. Damn old man.
“I’m facing certain death. Maybe not today, maybe not tomorrow, but it’s coming for me,” he says. “And when you get to my age, Luke, and you take stock of all your accomplishments …”
He sweeps his arms around the stable at the plethora of awards nailed to the walls.
“None of that means anything,” he says, dropping his arms. “What matters is the woman in the house and the other in Chicago. That’s it. It doesn’t get any simpler than that.”
I nod warily.
“Make sure you’re not just putting work in at the stables,” he says. “Put it in where it matters, too.”
“I will.”
“Nah, kid, I mean it,” he says, irritated as if I’m blowing him off. “Take a lesson from that wedding last weekend.”
Let’s not go there, Cotton. Let’s not ruin this.
“Did you know that girl who ran out on that movie star was from Brickfield?” he asks.
“I did.”
“I didn’t realize that. Guess I don’t pay enough attention to those things. Emma Jo says I’m the only one who didn’t know that.”
“Seems about right,” I say.
“Get you a girl like that.”
What? My head turns to him so fast that my neck pops.
“That girl knew what she wanted,” Cotton says. “And what she didn’t want. She made a hard decision—it had to be—because she knew what was best for her. People don’t do that anymore, kid. They get suckered into shit and let it ruin their life.”
Wow. This is not where I thought this was going. And yet he’s right. He’s so right about Laina.
“You gotta break some eggs to make some French toast,” he says, laughing at his own joke. “I know that’s not the saying, but I hate omelets.”
“Not a big fan either.” I laugh, too. “I get what you’re saying.”