Free Just Down the Road by Jodi Thomas

sun go down in silence. In the shadowy light before darkness fell, Pat whispered, “I believe that was about the prettiest one I’ve ever seen. Jeremiah would have liked it.”
    “Did you love him?” Reagan wouldn’t have been able to ask if it hadn’t been dark, but somehow, today, on the day after his death, it was important to know.
    “All my life, child.” Pat Matheson gave a sharp laugh. “I never remember a day that I didn’t love him. But loving and living with a man are two different things.”
    Reagan thought of asking why they never married, but maybe they had what they wanted. Maybe looking over the fence and seeing the light of his place just down the road and knowing that he loved her just as much as she loved him was enough for them both. “He loved you too,” Reagan said, “but he hated that you called him Dimples.”
    “I know he loved me, dear, and I called him Dimples because I knew it bothered him. There was always a part of me that got a real tickle out of needling that man.”
    Reagan rocked back in her chair. Jeremiah wasn’t an easy man to care for. His own sister had moved to Oklahoma rather than have to live with him. He had his way of doing everything—the right way, he claimed—and he never listened any more than necessary to anyone.
    “Will you sit beside me at the service tomorrow?”
    Pat nodded. “I will if you want me to.”
    A huge black pickup turned off Lone Oak Road and headed toward them.
    “That’ll be Hank coming to get me. I told him I could walk home, but my sister never believes a thing I say I can do. I think secretly she likes calling our nephew and enlisting his help.” She smiled as if enjoying complaining about a sister she’d lived and worked beside all her life. “Will you be all right here by yourself again tonight?”
    “Sure. This is my home.” Reagan almost smiled. “I can’t think of anywhere else I’d want to be.”
    Hank Matheson got out of the truck and walked around to open the door for his aunt. “Reagan,” he said as he helped Aunt Pat in, “you call us if you need anything. We’re here if you need us.”
    “Thanks. I’ll remember that,” Reagan answered, and waved. She walked into the house and up the stairs to her room.
    Just before she fell asleep she tried Noah’s number one more time. No answer. Her best friend was several states away at some rodeo and didn’t know her uncle had died.
    She remembered when she’d been in high school and Noah had told her once,
Everyone wants to hug you when someone in your family dies. They don’t know what to say and there really ain’t nothing they could say that helps, so about all you can do is stand there and let them hug you.
    Tonight she’d give all she owned for one hug from Noah McAllen. Months had passed since he’d been home, and Reagan felt like he grew less real and more the legend every day. Folks around here talked of Noah as if he were a movie star. Like his father, he’d done the town proud on the rodeo circuit.
    She tried to sleep but couldn’t seem to empty her head. An hour before dawn, Tyler Wright drove up in front of her house and waited. He didn’t knock, or honk. In the country everyone knows when someone comes to the house.
    When she walked out dressed in a black pantsuit, Tyler stood by the car waiting.
    She tried to smile at him. “Can I ride up front with you, Mr. Wright?”She couldn’t stand the thought of being in the back alone.
    “Of course,” he said, and opened the door.
    They drove to the cemetery and waited in the car while the hearse arrived. The pale glow of first light came as six men, all dressed in suits, carried the casket up a small hill to an open grave.
    Reagan watched without really seeing them. She saw the flowers being brought up and put across the simple wooden box. Wildflowers of spring somehow didn’t fit with the cool fall morning.
    “Did my uncle order flowers when he made his plans?” she asked, realizing she hadn’t even