Page 56 of Falling for Forever

“That’s what I thought. I ended up telling him about Misty.”

Lydia turned toward him. “Did you tell him she’s doing all the hard work and you’re taking the credit?”

“I gave her a fair share.”

“Half?”

“Maybe a little more.”

She nudged his sleeve with her elbow. “I’ll ask her in the morning.”

He wanted to reach for her hand. Instead, he kept walking beside her, grateful she’d chosen to stay. This was the part of his day he’d wanted to bring home, a story about a horse that made her laugh.

“I missed this,” he said.

Lydia glanced at him. “Arguing over who gets credit for training a horse?”

“You keeping me honest.”

Her smile softened, then faded a little. “I don’t want that to be my job, Chet.”

He stopped himself from making another joke. “It isn’t. I miss talking with you. But I need to do better whether we’re laughing or having a conversation I’d rather avoid.”

She looked at him a moment before her gaze returned to the path. “I’ve missed talking with you, too.”

He let that settle. She hadn’t offered him everything he wanted, but what she’d given him was true. He could do the same without asking her to make it easier.

When they reached her favorite meadow, Lydia slowed beside the patch of grass where they usually sat. She glanced at him, then lowered herself to the ground. Chet joined her. They lay back in their familiar spots, their eyes on the stars. He’d walked this path hoping she’d listen. She’d done that, and she’d asked him to listen, too.

Her arm pressed against his, and even through their sleeves, her warmth came through.

Turning, he gazed at her profile. After a few seconds, she faced him as well. Neither moved away. He’d brought the buckle because he wanted to show her what it meant to him. Now he wanted her to be free to ask about any part of the life that went with it.

“Lydia, I have something to give you.”

CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

Chet rose into a seated position. He fumbled with his jacket for a moment then withdrew whatever it was.

She sat up beside him. Moonlight caught the edge of the metal in his hands, and she recognized the shape before he held it out.

“Your buckle?”

Chet nodded. His thumb rested against the rim, then moved aside to show her the cowboy and horse at its center.

Chet reached for her hand, turning it palm up. Then he placed the buckle there, steadying it until she had a good grip.

The weight surprised her. Lydia traced the letters with her fingertip. Bronc Riding Champion. Nashville. She’d known he’d won the buckle, but she’d never seen the small marks along its edge.

“It took me years to win that,” he said. “When they handed it to me, I was so busy looking at it that I missed the photographer telling me to look up.”

She lifted her eyes to his. “Did he get his picture?”

“Eventually. There’s a pretty good one of the top of my hat, too.” His smile came slow. “I called and asked for a copy of that one. I wanted to remember how it felt before I had to smile for everybody.”

Lydia ran her thumb over a shallow scratch. “You were proud.”

“I was. Still am.” His eyes were on her hands. “I haven’t always known how to talk about the rest of it. Tonight I wanted you to see something I could put in your hands. You can ask about any of it.”