her boys when he’d have literally given anything for one more moment with his son.
In that instant, hearing Effie laugh over the fact that she was actually happy to be away from her kids filled him with irrational rage. Not with her, per se, but his particularly painful lot in life.
On autopilot, desperate for fresh air and the kind of quiet he could only find in the middle of nowhere, Marsh pushed back his chair, pressed his hat tighter on his head and left the diner and town.
Grief drove him to push his truck too fast, and back at his grandfather’s ranch, he followed the same trend while four-wheeling to the old homestead.
Only when Marsh had well and truly driven to the end of his world did he allow himself badly needed release.
He screamed at God.
Cursed fate.
He broke down and cried and wished that damned snake had finished what he’d started. Most of all, Marsh wished for a moment’s respite from the heartache stemming from being well and truly alone.
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