Breaking Magnolia_A Contemporary Western Romance Read online

  Just as she was about to head back inside, Lulu Griffin stepped out the door. She looked Eric up and down. “I’ve been livin’ in this town all my life. Ain’t never seen you ’round. Who the hell are you?”

  Eric hiked a thumb at Magnolia. “I’m her husband. Who the hell are you?”

  “I’m his wife.” She pointed at Dax.

  “Oh, for the love of fuck, what the hell are you two doing here? This is my father’s funeral. You think I need this right now? You think I need to deal with estranged husbands and wives? Have you no respect?”

  Dax stepped up beside her and wound his fingers through her hand. “Let’s go back inside. You’ll need to speak soon.”

  Slowly, she pulled her fingers free from his hand and glared at all of them. “My father is in there.” Her breath hitched in her throat as she pointed toward the doors. “Y’all might think this is about you, but it’s not. I am here to pay respect to the one man who never let me down. Now, if you’ll excuse me.”

  She stomped past the three of them, yanked open the glass door and sucked in a breath of the awful floral scent. The pounding in her head returned ten-fold as she pushed past the line of people and into the main room. All eyes swung toward her. At the front of the room stood their pastor, black robes covering him from neck to knee and the white collar around his throat looking as though it was choking him. Though the blasting air conditioning made goosebumps break out over her skin, sweat beaded the pastor’s bright red face. “Here with us now is his most beloved daughter, Magnolia.” He motioned to the podium. “Would you like to say a few words?”

  Swallowing back the ball in her throat, Magnolia nodded and walked up to the podium. Every eye was on her, and she felt the weight of their gazes on her. In the front row sat Calla, Zinnia, and her mother who’d flown from New York. The three women were a comfort to her. Even though she’d tried to think of what to say at this moment, she’d only drawn a blank. When she locked eyes with Calla, her friend brushed away a tear from her cheek and gave her a nod of encouragement. Magnolia cleared her throat and smoothed back the hair from her face.

  “Hi. For those of you who don’t know me, I’m Magnolia Reed. Thomas is my dad. Or was… or is. I’m not sure.” She shook her head. “I’ve been thinking about what to say about my father over the past few days. In times of silence and reflection, no words came to me, only thoughts and memories. So here are the top things I will always remember about my father. I hope that by telling you these things, you will always remember him the way I do and not like this.” She motioned to his coffin and let the tears run down her cheeks. There was nothing more she could do. She was tired of fighting, tired of being stronger than she was. With each word she spoke, she let the emotions flow.

  “My earliest memories are of my dad. What little girl doesn’t admire her father? For me, I think I couldn’t admire any man more than I did him. When I was small, he was the one to pick me up and dust me off whenever I got hurt. It’s something that holds true up until now.”

  She remembered falling into his strong arms the day she came home only weeks ago. She’d cried, and he’d held on and told her everything was going to be okay. “There are times in life when you get kicked, you get hurt, you get put down. Every time this happened to me, he was there.” Her breath hitched. “Who’s going to be there for me now?” A sob escaped her lips.

  Calla rose to her feet and stepped forward, but Magnolia waved her off and brushed at her face. “I’m sorry.” She sniffled, and in the room she heard others joining her. When she looked up, each of their faces was streaked with tears. She sucked in a breath. “I can do this. He’d want me to.”

  At the front of the room her mother ducked her head, swiping at her face while her shoulders shook. Calla wrapped an arm around her, and though Magnolia wanted to comfort her, there was still so much more she wanted people to know about her father. “Dad was the kind of man who pushed his daughter to see the world but was content to be here with y’all and Triple R Ranch—the place he called home. The place we all do. There was always a seat available at the dinner table on Sundays for whoever wanted it. So long as you were willing to work, Dad was always willing to teach. He didn’t believe in complicating life. A few lessons he taught me along the way—One: if you’re gonna get in a fight, fight to win. Two: curfews are meant to be kept, unless you want to be at the wrong end of his shotgun.” She glanced up at Dax who stood in the doorway with a sad, wistful smile.

  “And when your kid is acting a mess, no matter what age they are, dunking them in a trough or turning the hose on them will teach them a lesson—the lesson of getting a grip, picking yourself up and continuing on.” She looked up to the sky, picturing her father throwing back his head, laughing. At the same time, the stable hands chuckled lightly as though they too were in on an inside joke. “You taught me that, Dad, and I won’t forget it.” She cracked a small smile. “Poor Hayden.”

  Through the tears, others joined her, letting out light chuckles. “Family was the most important to him.” To herself, she whispered, “I was most important to him.”

  She swiped at her face. “When I was younger, my father and I would lie on a blanket behind the house at night and look up at the stars. I remember thinking how big he was—larger than life. And my finger only fit around his thumb.” She held up her hand, staring at her finger for a moment.

  “Even though I was so small, he used to point at the stars and tell me to never stop reaching for them. ‘Go anywhere; do anything you want, Maggie’ he’d say, always encouraging me to be my best and keep reaching for those stars.

  “Tonight, when I lay that blanket out behind the house and sit there with my son, with his fingers wrapped around my fingers, I will tell him the same things you taught me, Dad. And when I look up at the stars and reach toward them, I’ll be reaching for you, knowing you are reaching for me, too.”

  Chapter 25

  Calla’s fingers dug into Magnolia’s hand, nearly squeezing the circulation from them. “Calla, my fingers.”

  “Sorry.” She lessened her grip.

  The cool mist from only an hour before turned to a heavier rain. The sky was even darker and even the trees around them seemed to weep. A peaceful, somber silence rolled over her. This place, the town cemetery, would forever be where her father remained. The last funeral Magnolia went to was her grandmother’s, and she didn’t remember the fake grass carpets they laid out around a grave, or the pile of dirt waiting to cover the beloved deceased. It all seemed so wrong, putting a man who lived his life in sprawling fields under the ground. Raindrops fell on the coffin and rolled down the sides. The bouquet of roses on the top of it collected the drops, making it look like they shined, even under the graying fall sky.

  She tightened her hand around the handle of her umbrella. Behind her, Zinnia put a hand on her shoulder, and on her left stood Calla. On her right stood the second closest person she had to a father, her Uncle Mike. The man hadn’t spoken a word in days. Even now, his eyes were locked on her father’s coffin, unblinking. Silently, he pulled a flask from his pocket and took a swig. He jabbed her with his elbow, then offered it to her. Magnolia shook her head, declining. She realized the small group of them were now the last ones in the cemetery. Everyone else had gone home after the prayers. The undertaker stood to the side, waiting to lower the coffin, but Maggie just wasn’t ready yet. She glanced at the man in his gray coveralls and work boots. “I just need another minute. Please, just a second more with him.”

  Her uncle leaned in and whispered, “Magnolia Reed.” His voice was tight. He coughed into his fist. “You take a drink of this right now.”

  “I will not disrespect my dad like that.”

  He turned to face her. “This bottle of whiskey is from the day you were born. Thomas was holding onto it for the day he would decide to share it with you.” A single tear slid down the side of his cheek and he cleared his throat. “That day ain’t comin’. So, you take a drink now, and share this with me
and your dad.”

  Without a word, Magnolia took the flask and tipped it back to her lips. The liquid burned going down, but when it hit her chest, it warmed and loosened the tension she felt. She passed it back to her uncle. She glanced to the undertaker. “I’m ready.”

  He leaned down and flipped a switch next to the coffin and the sound of whirring began. Magnolia looked out over the cemetery, not expecting to see Dax. But then, like a beacon of light in her gray world, he stomped across the grass, heading toward her. Behind him, Adam and Finn followed suit. All of them had ditched their suit coats to wear their red plaid shirts. Rain poured down on them, soaking them through, yet he still came. His face was a hard mask of emotion, and when he locked eyes with her, she nearly lost her breath. “Wait,” she called to the man.

  He nearly tripped over himself to stop lowering the coffin. But the whirring cut off, and the lid to the coffin was still visible. The bright red roses peeked out over the edge of his grave. Dax stepped up across from her. Standing on the other side, Adam and Finn flanked him. For years, these six people had been there for her for the best of times and the very worst—the moment when she would have to say goodbye to the man who’d given her the stars. Dax locked his gaze on hers and nodded. Magnolia sucked in a deep breath and closed her eyes. “Okay.”

  That whirring sound started once more. They stood in silence as the casket slowly descended into that cold black hole. Hot streaks of tears ran down her face. Beside her, Uncle Mike stepped up, took one last swig of his beat-up flask, then dropped it onto the bed of flowers covering the wooden box. “I’ll be seein’ you. Until we meet again, my brother.”

  When he turned back, he patted Magnolia on the shoulder and walked away.

  Calla stood strong at Magnolia’s side, but Magnolia needed a minute alone with him. “I-I… ah…” Her voice cracked. “I-I need a minute with him.”

  With the squeeze of her hand, Calla stepped forward and dropped a single rose into the grave. Zinnia wrapped her arm around Magnolia’s shoulder, squeezing her tightly. It was one of the only times Maggie had seen her dressed up, but Zinnia had cleaned up, pulling her hair into a tight bun on the top of her head, and wore a loose pants suit, which she looked completely out of place in. “I loved him, you know?”

  “I know.” Magnolia patted her hand.

  “I loved him like he was my dad.” She met Magnolia’s eye. “He was my dad, too, Maggie.”

  “Oh, honey, I know.” She wrapped her arms around her friend, squeezing her tightly.

  Zinnia also stepped away, taking a rose from the vase at their side and tossing it down. “Thomas, thank you for being the dad I never had but always needed.” She hiccuped then turned, following Calla Lily back toward the car.

  Adam and Finn stepped up next, each of them taking a handful of dirt and dropping it. The sound of the pebbles hitting the wood sent a chill up her spine. This was really happening. Finn bent low, kissing her cheek, looking as haggard as he ever had. His hair hung in long tufts down his cheeks, and two days of scruff covered his face. “I’m so sorry, Maggie.”

  She nodded. “Thank you.”

  Adam was next. With his close-cut army-style hair and clean shaven face, he was the opposite of Finn and moved so silently it surprised her. Grabbing a fistful of dirt, he squeezed it so hard his fist turned red before dropping it down onto the coffin. He sniffled and swiped a hand across his face. Without a word, he kissed her other cheek and walked away.

  There she stood alone with Dax. When he walked around her father’s grave, it was as though he was predator. His eyes locked on hers; his steps ate up the distance between them. Rain soaked his hair to his head and ran down his face, covering his arms. “Magnolia.” Her name was like a prayer on his lips.

  He reached out to her, wrapping one arm around her waist and pressing the other to her cheek. Bending low, he let his forehead meet hers. “He loved you, so very much.”

  A small sob passed her lips just as the whirring of the machine lowering her father stopped. She closed her eyes, sucking in a breath. It was done…

  The muscle in Dax’s jaw flexed, and he pulled her tighter. “This is not how Thomas would want us to remember him. See him the way you always have.”

  “I will.”

  “I love you, Maggie.” He pressed his other hand to her cheek and leaned in, taking her lips in the gentlest kiss she’d ever felt. His lips met hers, melting her against him. In this moment, she felt so much—too much. Love, loss, sadness, need, desire all warred within her like a ticking time bomb about to go off.

  She stepped back out of his grip, dropping the umbrella and wrapping her arms around herself. “I can’t do this right now, Dax.”

  Cold drops seeped into her hair and sweater. Her body quaked, yet she couldn’t say a word to him, didn’t know how to handle this. She shook her head and turned away from him.

  “Maggie, I—”

  She glanced at him. He reached his hand out to her, but when she didn’t take it, he dropped his fist to his side. Without another word, he walked over to the pile of dirt and grabbed two handfuls. He stood over the open grave and held his fists straight out and opened his fingers one by one, letting the dirt slip through like sand in an hour glass. “Thomas, my friend, my partner, the father to pick up my pieces.” He took a deep breath and spoke through gritted teeth. “I never told you, but I love you.”

  This time, he didn’t look at her, didn’t face her, as he walked away. Magnolia took a step forward, grabbed a rose from the vase stand and stood alone, facing the fact she’d never see her father again. “Daddy, I’m so sorry. I’m sorry I wasn’t here longer. I’m sorry I left. Oh, God, I’m sorry I didn’t tell you I loved you enough.”

  She hunched over, trying to catch a breath. “I love you so much. How could you leave me?” she whispered. “I didn’t even get to say goodbye.”

  The undertaker cleared his throat. “It’s time now.”

  Magnolia raised the crimson petals to her lips and kissed them, then tossed the rose into her father’s resting place. “I love you, Dad. Goodbye.”

  Her heels sunk into the sopping grass as she walked away, her shoulders stiff and hair soaking to the sides of her face. In the distance on the side of the road sat Calla’s bright red truck, waiting for her. She put down her head and trudged forward.

  “Magnolia Reed?” A short man in a black trench coat and bowler hat stopped her. He held an umbrella over her head as she approached.

  “Mr. Williams? What are you doing here?” She pushed the sopping strands of hair from her eyes.

  “Thomas and I, we were very good friends. I was at the funeral and I don’t want to intrude now, but I need you to come by the office to sign some papers tomorrow.” He pushed his glasses farther up his nose.

  “Is this about his will? I remember him saying you were his lawyer in all things.” This was not something she wanted to deal with right now. Why now? At the very moment she said goodbye why did she have to face the harsh reality of it?

  “That’s right.”

  “I’ll be there.” She started to step away and he followed her with his umbrella.

  “It’s all right, Mr. Williams. I just want to be alone.” Before he said another word, she walked away, nearly to Calla’s pickup.

  When she stepped between two trees, Lulu popped into her path, stopping her. Magnolia started backward. “For the love of Pete, Lulu. What the hell do you want? Can’t you just leave me be? You’ve got Dax. I just lost my father. I just want to go home and sleep for a week.”

  Lulu popped her hip. Chewing gum like a cow made her bright pink lips look like a cheap blowup doll’s. “Can you imagine your husband never lovin’ you?”

  “Ugh.” She threw up her hands. As if she needed more reminders about the shit her life was at the moment. “I’ve been livin’ that scenario, Lulu.”

  Lulu put her arm up against the tree, blocking Magnolia from passing. She leaned in. “Imagine what it’s like to see that mark on y
our husband every time he took his shirt off. Imagine knowing his heart always belonged to someone else.”

  “I didn’t know about the tattoo until a week ago.” Magnolia sighed.

  “You know why I left for all those years?” Her heavy floral perfume reminded Magnolia of the funeral home earlier.

  The overwhelming desire to leave ate at her. She tilted her head, eyeing Lulu’s arm, wondering if she should break it or not. “This is none of my business. I just want to go home. What the hell is wrong with you that you can’t understand that?”

  “God damn it, just listen to me!” Lulu smacked her fist against the tree. “I left all those years ago to see if he would come after me, to see if my husband loved me enough to find me. But you now what? He didn’t. When I heard you were back, I knew. I just knew he never would.” She dropped her arm. “I didn’t leave because he drank too much or because he didn’t get paid enough. I left because you were the one addiction he would never give up. He wouldn’t even get the damn tattoo removed. Even after I worked double shifts at The Hole to pay to get it done. You don’t get it, Magnolia.”

  Lulu shook her head and turned away. Magnolia cupped her hand around the side of her mouth. “Don’t get what?”

  Lulu stopped in her tracks, her blond curls bouncing wildly when she whirled around on Magnolia with wide eyes. “That man would walk through the fires of hell for you. Love like that doesn’t happen every day. Just ask him to see the box he’s been hiding for the past ten years.”

  Confused, Magnolia narrowed her eyes. “What box?”

  Lulu waved her away. “Just ask.” Without another word, Lulu turned and walked away, leaving Magnolia cold, wet, and in a state of confused exhaustion… on the same day she buried her father.

  Chapter 26

  Magnolia hopped out of the cab of Calla’s truck, and just like the first day she arrived, her shoes sunk into the mud. She snapped up her head, half-expecting Dax to be waiting on the front porch for her, half-expecting her father to pop out his head and tell her that’s what she gets for wearing heels in the Tennessee mud. Rather than fight it, she slid her feet from her shoes and let her bare feet sink into the mud as she walked to the other side of the truck and pulled Hayden from the back seat. “Tell your folks I said thank you for watchin’ Hayden for me.”