The Cowboy's Homecoming Read Online Free

in church, having faith.
    â€œI don’t have anything to remember her by, Lance. Everything is boxed up and hidden. Her pictures, herjewelry, and even the quilts she made. He boxed it all up. I don’t know if he burned it, gave it away or threw it in the Dumpster.”
    â€œHe shouldn’t have done that. Sometimes a person hurts so bad they don’t know what else to do. They box up the pain and I guess your daddy boxed up his memories right along with it.”
    â€œShe loved that church.”
    â€œShe sure did. And she loved her family. She’d want those memories unboxed.” Lance untied the horse and led him down the aisle of the barn. A horse whinnied from somewhere in the distance. The gelding, Bob, whinnied a reply.
    It had been years since Beth thought about the day her dad had started packing everything into boxes. He’d been crazy with grief, pulling pictures off the walls, yanking quilts off beds. Everything that reminded him of Elena Bradshaw had been packed up and hauled off while Beth cried and Jason stoically helped their father.
    Lance placed a strong hand on her shoulder.
    â€œI’ll feed this horse for you. I think it’s about time you talked to Buck about the box she left you. It’s yours, Beth. She’d want you to have it.” He put the horse in a stall and latched the gate. “And you know this horse isn’t ready for Tulsa.”
    She nodded, still fighting tears, still fighting mad that everyone else always seemed to have answers, to be in control, and she always seemed to be fighting to be strong.
    It was a fight she planned to win.
    â€œYeah, I know.”
    â€œGo talk to your dad.”
    She walked out of the barn and across the dusty driveway toward the house. A lone figure in the garden bent over tomato plants that were just starting to flower. She stopped at the edge of the garden.
    â€œI’m not going to help you save that church.” He bent to pick a few weeds.
    â€œI’m not here to talk about the church. I’d like the box my mother left for me.” She shoved her hands in her pockets, no longer brave. The deep breath she took did nothing to calm nerves that were strung tight. “If you don’t mind.”
    Her dad turned. He stood straight, his hat tipped back. He was tall and broad, his skin weathered by sun and time but he was still strong.
    â€œWhat brought that up?” her father asked.
    Beth had imagined anger, not a question like that. She didn’t really have an answer. “I think it’s time. I want to have something to remember Mom by.”
    â€œIt’s just a box of stuff.” He shrugged. “I’ll bring it down from the attic.”
    She wanted to rush forward and hug him, but he turned back to the tomato plants. She’d won the battle but it didn’t feel like a victory. She whispered “thank you” and her dad nodded. After a few seconds she walked away.
    As she entered the house, she remembered the day her mother had sat them down in the living room and explained that she had taken her last treatment. The memory was followed by one of the day they took Elena off life support.
    Beth stood in the living room for several minutes and then she walked back out the front door. She pulled keys out of her pocket and headed across the yard to thegarage and her truck. It was starting to make sense, why Jeremy would want to do this. Even if she didn’t want him to, maybe she understood. Her dad had shoved his pain into boxes and stored them in the attic. She’d run away. Jeremy needed to see that church gone.
    As much as she understood, she still planned on finding a way to stop him.
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    The police station was a long, rectangular building with metal siding that looked more like a forgotten convenience store. In an area like this, they didn’t need much for a police station. The occasional robbery, traffic violation or intoxicated driver, those were the