“The midday sun beat down hard, stealing the shade of the barn and making the job of unloading bales of hay from his truck all the more challenging. He leaned against the truck’s tailgate. When Zoe was alive, they used to make it a point to take Sunday off. After church, they’d ride to a natural swimming hole on a tributary of the Marias River where cottonwood trees shaded the bank and have a picnic lunch. The kids would go swimming. Sometimes Kurt did, too. The tug of regret and loneliness tigh...tened his throat, and he swallowed hard. He missed those days. Hefting the last bale of hay, he shouldered the weight and carried it into the barn. Beth was in the house, probably texting her friends. Toby had gone off to be with his buddies. Without Sarah around, the ranch seemed exceptionally quiet. He only had the lazy buzz of flies, horses shifting from one foot to another and a sleeping dog to keep him company. Odd that in less than a week he could feel the absence of Sarah almost as much as he missed Zoe.MoreLessRead More Read Less
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