“Denver,” Val rasped, running down from the porch and dropping down to her knees behind him. A soft hand touched my back. My obsession, my safe space, my sweet Harmony, the blessing who brought me home. “Mason,” Jigs croaked, stepping up to us. “My strong boy, why didn’t you tell me?” My strong boy. Jigs was more of a father figure to me than Pop ever was. My eyes stung, but I blinked the tears away. Cowboys don’t cry. “How could I? He was your best friend,” I countered, pulling my wife to my side. Immediately, she anchored herself to me. “No, why didn’t you tell me?” Denver growled, looking
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