Total pages in book: 118
Estimated words: 113270 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 566(@200wpm)___ 453(@250wpm)___ 378(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 113270 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 566(@200wpm)___ 453(@250wpm)___ 378(@300wpm)
“Congratulations!” I say, rushing forward to wrap my arms around Tad’s neck as he reacts to reading the same word on the banner.
“Oh jeez,” he cries, wrapping his arms around me tightly and burying his face in my neck so deeply it tickles. “What in the hell is this, Breeze?”
I palm both sides of his head and pull him back, pressing my lips to his and rubbing at the sweet purple bags under his eyes. He’s been working so hard for us, for his new job, for Red Bridge—I swear he never even saw this coming.
“We’re celebrating you. Congratulations, Mr. Red Bridge EMA Director. We are all so, so proud of you.”
“I love you,” he whispers raggedly, the tenuous emotion of taking his life’s—his real life—purpose back by the horns a landslide it’s nearly impossible to hold back. We still have the sheep, but neither one of us is pretending they’re anything but pets these days.
“Oh, Farm Daddy…I love you too.”
He snorts, smacking me on the ass before turning to a loitering Randy to shake his hand. The two of them have been through so much together, and somehow, are finally coming out the other side. Randy, like Tad, is moving back to his true purpose and has officially taken the position of Red Bridge Fire Chief.
Six months ago, just after our beautiful baby boy Hayes was born, the town voted to fund and form an official, paid city fire department instead of the volunteer setup they were operating on before. Nate Woodall and Barry Flyshman, two of the volunteers who helped save my life the day of the fire, took the other two full-time positions after finishing their certifications last month.
I, for one, feel safe and sound in the hands of everyone who’s poured their blood, sweat, and tears into making this new department a reality, and I can wait to see my man shine in the welcoming arms of his true calling.
And he’s not the only one feeling fulfilled these days.
A few months after I came out of the fog of postpartum life, I started an art history program at the library, and it’s become one of the brightest parts of my week. Watching the kids of Red Bridge discover color and creativity—watching them light up the same way art once lit up my world—has brought my life full circle in the best possible way.
Lately, I’ve even been thinking about using some of the trust money to open a small gallery downtown. It would be a nonprofit space where the children of Red Bridge would be the featured artists.
Tad loves the idea, and honestly, I do too. I’ve realized I’m just as much a part of Red Bridge as it is of me, and giving back to this community that gave me everything feels exactly right.
And now, standing here surrounded by everyone I love, it feels like all of it—every hard, messy, beautiful part—led to this.
I move away, uncovering food on the picnic table and waving an arm at everyone to come eat while Tad does his due diligence of shaking hands and making nice with everyone in attendance—which, in addition to his brother, dad, and uncle, is pretty much everyone from town. Betty, Fran, Harold, Earl, Pete, Melba, Camille, Todd, Felix, Lee, Eileen, Millie, and sooo many more—we’re surrounded by a support system of people and small businesses that would do anything to help us and anyone else in this town if they needed.
It’s part of what I love about living here—and it’s part of what I’m still getting used to. Everyone knows everyone, along with all their business.
It only took one trip to Earl’s for hemorrhoid cream after I had the baby to teach me how quick Red Bridge plays the game of telephone. I thought they’d set up a billboard about me at one point, I got so many questions.
“Great party, Breeze,” Pete says, scooping a handful of chips from the bowl and directly into his mouth. One or two don’t make it, taking up residence on his belly instead. I chuckle. “Thanks, Pete. More chips in the house if those run out.”
“Excellent.”
I check on Josie and the babies quickly before heading back for the house, intent on getting the rest of the food out, when Tad pulls me up short, a big hug and a huge kiss taking us into seriously dangerous public display of affection territory. If Eileen hadn’t retired, this would be in the paper before the last guest left tonight.
“Wow,” I say with a smile, my breathing heavy as his lips let go of mine. “What was that for?”
“I love you, Breezy.”
I laugh softly, biting my lip and rolling my eyes. “I know you do, Tad.”
“Yeah…but I bet you don’t know this.”
“Don’t know—” As Tad backs away and settles onto one knee in the grass, my words evaporate into a mist. “Oh my God,” I whisper instead. “Tad Hanson, this party was supposed to be about you!”