“I would say the same goes for women, Joe. When it comes to ranching, we’re already at a disadvantage. It’s considered man’s work, and breaking that trail as a woman isn’t easy. That’s why I’m so grateful that Heavenly Lane was run by two strong women who knew I could do the work, despite my situation.” She raised her hand and opened and closed it in the only way it could be described, a claw.
I grasped it and held it on our laps. “I don’t think your hands factored into their hiring decision, Tobi. You had long since proven yourself capable of doing the job. Your two degrees alone were enough to tell them that. Everything else can be worked around.”
“I’ve had to do plenty of that in my life.”
“I know,” I whispered, brushing my lips against her forehead. “I wish you’d had an easier life.”
“Some days, I think the same thing, but then I remember if I had an easier life, I wouldn’t have this life. My successes wouldn’t be as sweet, either.”
“Looking at it from your perspective, I can understand that. Cody always wished he had been the one born with your hands. He said it would be easier for him as a male to get opportunities in life than it would be a woman.”
“Then he underestimated me.” She pushed off me and sat up with indignation. “I’ll make my own opportunities.”
“He knew that, Star. It was just his protective side coming out. He wanted to take care of his twin sister because he saw that as his duty, especially once your parents died.” I rubbed her back patiently until she relaxed.
“I miss him, but do you know what I’ve noticed since the other night when we stood in that driveway in the snow?”
I pulled her back onto my shoulder and kissed her forehead. “What have you noticed, Star?”
“That he’s with me, but he’s not with me.”
“There’s no weight to his memory now?”
“Yes,” she agreed, glancing up at me. “I can think about Cody now, and I’m not immediately flooded with anger.”
“I think they call that acceptance.”
“I don’t know if it’s that or it’s just that I let my anger go towards you, and with that, my anger at him.”
“You were mad at Cody?”
Her laughter filled the night, but it wasn’t amused or relaxed. “Oh, for so many years. If he hadn’t insisted on going hunting alone, when he knew how dangerous that was, he’d still be here. It wasn’t logical, but—”
“Being angry was easier than being sad,” I finished.
She nodded but didn’t say another word as we gazed up at the sky.
“In hindsight, I think that’s why I got mad at Daddy Nash when he told me the truth. Logically, I understood that the truth he told me didn’t matter in the end, but it was the end, and I could see it. I could see he was ready to leave me, and that ticked me off.”
“You were already grieving. Had been since his stroke,” she said, and I nodded. “Daddy Nash understood, Joe.”
“I hope so.”
We stared into the sky in silence, and slowly, her hand went up, and she pointed to a star. “There’s Cody’s star.”
“It’s bright tonight.”
Her arm swayed to a star in the distance. “That one is new.”
“How do you know?”
“I’ve had twelve years to memorize all the stars around Cody’s. I’ve seen some become shooting stars and new ones be born. That one is new. You can tell by how it’s fainter than the others, as though it’s pulsing and trying to build its light.”
My eyes to the sky, I worked to see what she did. After a few moments, I realized she was right. “Do you think Daddy Nash already made it? It’s only been a few hours.”
“I think his star was born on his final breath, Joe. I’m sure that’s nonsense, but it’s what I like to believe.”
“Then we’ll believe it,” I promised, kissing her forehead again. I wanted to kiss her lips, but I was afraid she wouldn’t be receptive tonight.
