The Construction of Cheer - Liz Isaacson Page 0,60
managed to get her number, though she didn’t give it to me. She said she’s not ready to start dating. Wants to get settled in first.”
Bishop thought of Ace, who was experiencing something similar. “Is this why you won’t go to town anymore?”
“No,” Cactus said. “I won’t go to town with specifically Ace, because he keeps throwing himself at that Holly Ann, and I think it’s pathetic.”
“Ouch, Cactus. Tell me how you really feel.” Bishop grinned at him, and Cactus softened slightly. Enough to come stand at the railing and lean against it too.
“I don’t want to do that,” he said softly. “I see how he acts around her, and what he does, and I don’t want to do that.”
“You can come to town with me.”
“You never go to town.”
“No, what I think you mean is I don’t track who the pastor is each week, and I go to church even if it isn’t Willa Knowlton.” He tensed, waiting for Cactus to whip him with his tongue, stomp off, and yell back to him not to come out to his cabin later.
It was a great testament to Cactus that he didn’t do any of the above. He did turn to stare at Bishop. “Dear Lord, is it that obvious?”
“It is to those of us watching you,” he said. “Ace actually told me. He’s worried about you too.”
“I texted him an apology after I sort of snapped at him last time he wanted me to go to town with him.”
“Mm.” Bishop became keenly aware of how long he’d been gone from his own luncheon. “I’ll bring you a whole plate of food later, if you want.”
“Thanks,” Cactus said. “I don’t know why I can’t today, only that my skin was crawling in there.”
“Think about that,” Bishop said. “Because I thought that was getting better too.”
“I’m going to talk to Judge,” Cactus said.
“Good idea,” Bishop said, though he thought Cactus should go to a licensed therapist once a week, not his brother who’d started his psychology degree and never finished. “Love you, brother. Take care of yourself, okay? I’ll bring cake to make up the rest.”
He started to turn away from Cactus, but his brother grabbed him and held him in a tight hug. “You’re a good man, Bishop. Happy birthday.” He stepped back as quickly as he’d grabbed him, and Bishop could only stare at his brother’s back as he strode away.
“Please help him iron everything flat,” he begged the Lord. “Please. He’s suffered enough. Can’t you let Willa Knowlton know that? She could help him so much.”
“Are you sure we can just leave?” Montana whispered, looking around at everyone still hanging around the homestead.
“Yeah,” Bishop said in an equally low voice. “Aurora’s got five grown men hanging on her every word. Your aunt and uncle are here. Come on.” He stood and nodded at Jackie, retrieved the small box and card from the top of the fridge, and led Montana outside.
He couldn’t even breathe it was so hot. “Okay, so this is a bad idea,” he said. “Let’s go to the barn. It’s air conditioned.”
“Okay.” Montana followed him to his truck, because he wasn’t about to walk in this heat and humidity, even if it would only take ten minutes. He’d be soaking wet by the time he got there, and he already had plenty of days like that to look forward to.
The barn wasn’t locked, and he slid the door open easily. He and Montana had snuck several kisses right here in this barn, but today, Bishop slid the door closed and stepped over to the thermostat. He turned it down and faced her. “Thanks for a gift,” he said.
“I didn’t realize you guys didn’t do gifts.”
“Mother brought me one on Friday,” he said, smiling. “And Cactus actually gave me something a couple of weeks ago.”
Montana looked at the box. “Aurora wrapped it. We did the best we could.”
“I’m already in love with it,” he said, gazing at the blue and white striped paper. He lifted his eyes to hers. “Surely you know by now how smitten I am with you.”
She smiled and reached up to cradle his face. “I have a little bit of an idea.” She nodded to the box. “Open it. Then you’ll know I’m a little bit smitten by you too.”
“Will I?” Bishop’s anxiety and excitement doubled. “All right. Here I go.” He tore off the paper and stalled. “Wait. Should I open the card first?”
“You’re really bad at opening gifts,” Montana teased. “You just