Cowgirls Don't Cry(10)
“You’re right, Uncle Boots.”
“Aw, honey. The two of you are so dang much alike. Stubborn to the core. But he loved you. And he was proud of you.”
“No.” She shook her head, unable to believe that. “No, he wasn’t. I disappointed him. I didn’t stay here to help with the ranch. I didn’t get married and give him grandbabies. I didn’t do anything with my life that he wanted me to do.”
“All he ever wanted was for you to be happy, baby girl.”
Cass didn’t know what to say. She knew in her heart Boots was wrong. She’d disappointed her dad from the day she’d turned eighteen, lost her virginity in the back of a pickup at the National Western Stock Show and Rodeo in Denver and decided she’d never get on a horse again.
The old truck rattled across a speed bump as Boots turned it into the parking lot at the funeral home. He pulled into a parking space and shoved the transmission into Park. Neither of them moved. She did not want to get out and walk inside that building. With its white-washed stucco and blue shutters topped by a red-tiled roof, the place looked more like a Mexican restaurant than a funeral home. Part of her wanted to ask Boots to just drive away. The other part knew that if she turned tail and ran she’d regret it for the rest of her life.
Cass sucked in a deep breath and held it. Letting the air hiss out slowly, she wiped her face and nose with the bandanna then stuck it in her pocket, just in case. “Okay. Let’s get this over with.”
The doors on the old truck creaked as they opened. Buddy jumped out after Boots, and he scolded the dog.
“Leave him be, Uncle Boots. He has as much right to say goodbye to Daddy as anyone.” She met him on the sidewalk and slipped her arm through his. “We can do this. Right?”
Boots patted her hand where it rested on his forearm. “You know what your daddy always said, sugar.”
“Yeah. Often and loudly.” She inhaled deeply again. “Cowgirls don’t cry, they just get back on and ride. I really hate that phrase, you know.”
He chuckled and gave her hand another pat.
Boots distracted the officious man who met them at the door while Cassie snuck past, Buddy at her heels. They were probably breaking some law but she didn’t care. Buddy needed this goodbye as much as she did.
Alone in a private viewing room a few minutes later, Cass stared at what used to be her father. A sheet covered his body from shoulders to toes. There’d be no burying clothes or makeup on his face since he’d be cremated once she left. The funeral home had kept the body solely for her chance to say goodbye.
His face had thinned with the years, as had his hair. And the crinkles around his eyes looked like they’d been etched in wax. This...thing wasn’t her father. He’d been full of life. Of laughter. And a few choice cuss words. She reached out as if to touch his hand but couldn’t follow through. The cancer had stolen his vitality. The thought of her skin touching that cold facsimile of her dad made her stomach roil.
“Oh, Daddy.” The words clogged up her throat as sorrow surged. “God, I miss you. I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry for everything. Please forgive me?” She closed her eyes against the salty sting, and her throat ached from swallowing her sobs. With her arms pressed across her stomach, she swayed with the rhythm of her grief. Something warm leaned against her leg, and Buddy’s whine joined her choking sobs. She dropped one hand to rest on the dog’s head, her fingers burrowing into the soft fur. “You miss him, too, Buddy. I know. What the hell are we going to do now?”