to life in the room. Purple and silver ribbons hung from the corner of the curtain rod, the silk mums were coated in a fine layer of dust. The cream-colored walls were covered in poster frames that held collages of a high school girl’s memories. Sports, dances, horses and local and international mission trips were highlighted in each of the five poster frames.
“Who are all these people?” Bryce was studying the pictures.
“This is Carol, Tyler’s sister. All the other people are her friends. She’s also Rachel and Celeste’s mother.” Carol hadn’t been much older than she when she had been killed in a car accident, leaving behind two small daughters, a young husband and a whole town that loved her and still missed her. She looked at the laughing girl who’d thought she had a lifetime in front of her. Somehow she had managed to accomplish more in one short life than Karly dreamed of doing.
“Oh, look at these, Momma.” He picked up a model horse from the purple dresser. “These are cool. I hope my room’s not purple, though.”
“Here’re some more boxes.” She heard Tyler’s voice from the hallway, but by the time she had gotten to the door he was already gone again.
“Momma, what’s that word?”
She went back into Carol’s room. “What word, baby?”
“Momma, I’m not a baby.” Then he pointed to a poster, purple, of course, on the wall. “Go An-gore-as! What’s an Angora?”
She shrugged. “Not sure. We’ll have to ask Tyler.”
“Can I see my room?” He lowered his head and whispered. “Please, anything but purple.” He opened the door to the bathroom that connected the rooms. “If I don’t like it, your bed is big enough for both of us.”
“Yes, it is.” She just wasn’t sure if there was room for them. In this home. This substantial house was big enough for them and Tyler, though.
“Cool, Momma! Look.” He tilted his head back to look at the ceiling, slowly turning. Airplanes of all sizes and shapes hung from the clear wires. Two-tone blue, with a touch of red, made the room inviting and all boy. Baseball and football equipment packed the spaces between the books on the shelves. Posters of Texas teams and colleges covered the wall.
The strangest was the leather halter and bridle hanging on the headboard. Bryce started going through the closet, pulling out some sort of sports jersey with a large nineteen on it. “Do you think it’s Tyler’s?”
“Hey, what have you got there?” Tyler stood in the doorway, leaning on the frame.
“Oh, I’m sorry.” She took the shirt from Bryce and put it back. They’d intruded into his world; now he found them digging through his closet.
“I’m sorry, Mr. Childress.” Her little boy took a step back, his head down.
Towering over her small son, Tyler reached past him and pulled out the shirt. “You can wear it. It’s my basketball shirt from my seventh-grade year. We got new ones, so coach let us keep them.” He slipped the jersey over Bryce’s head. “In just a few years, you can be a fighting Angora.”
“I can’t play basketball.” He held up his short arm. “I only have one hand.”
“You only need one hand to dribble.” He rubbed Bryce’s dark hair.
Karly crossed her arms and stopped herself from saying anything to Tyler. She wished he would stop telling her son all the things he could do. She was sure he meant well, but he didn’t understand all the complications.
The joy in her son radiated from his grin. “So what’s an Angora?”
This time Tyler laughed out loud. “A goat with long, wavy white hair and curled horns.”
She had to laugh at Bryce’s horrified expression. “A goat?”
“Yeah, a goat, but most people don’t even know they’re goats. They’re different and they’re tough, able to survive through harsh conditions.”
Maybe she had more in common with the school mascot than she thought.
“What kind of conditions?”
“Sorry, he’ll ask you questions all day.” She came up behind her son and pulled him against her. “Bryce can stay with me. This is your room.”
“Hasn’t been my room for years.” He ran fingers through his damp hair and looked around. “The times I came home, I slept in the bunkhouse.”
Bryce’s big eyes went even wider. “Bunkhouse? Like with cowboys?”
“Yep. Speaking of which, since you live on the Childress Ranch now, we need to find you a cowboy hat and boots.” He stepped into the closet and pulled a black hat from the top shelf. “Let’s see if this fits.” The cowboy hat wobbled a little bit on Bryce’s head, but it wasn’t too bad.
“It fits, Momma. Look! I’m a cowboy!” He turned back to his new champion. “Can I stay in the bunkhouse, too?”
“Sorry, partner. Have to be nineteen to live in the bunkhouse. You can stay in my old room and be a cowboy in training.”
Karly’s phone vibrated. Looking at the name, she saw it was the call she had been expecting. “Hi, Pastor John.” She noticed Tyler stiffen, his jaw muscles flexing. “Yes, we’re here. Tyler’s here, too. I picked him up at the airport.” He raised an eyebrow. She was not going to explain the almost head-on collision over the phone. “What do you need me to do? Okay, see you in a while.”
Sliding the new phone back into her pocket, she took a deep breath. “Your father will be here soon. They’re turning off the highway now. Are there any more boxes in the car?”
“Nope, got them all. Left the tub. Why is no one calling me about my father?”
Her stomach knotted. She hated conflict. “I don’t know. Maybe because you’d been out of the country and they weren’t sure when you’d be here.” She shrugged. “I’m going to make sure your dad’s room is ready. Tyler?”
He had started bringing boxes into the room. “Yeah.”
She swallowed. “Pastor John said to tell you he was glad you were here, but...to remind you that your father needs to be in a stress-free environment.”
Anger clouded his blue eyes, making them darker. “What does he think I’m going to do?”
With a shrug, she headed for the door. “I don’t know. Bryce, come on.”
“Momma, please. I want to help Mr. Childress.”
“Hey, partner. Call me Tyler. With my dad coming home, it’ll get confusing if you call us both Mr. Childress. Anyway, I’m really not much older than you. Just ask my dad.”
She still saw a bit of a mischievous look in his eye, ready to cause trouble.
“He can stay and help me. I need those strong muscles.”
Bryce giggled.
“Okay,
