Chapter Ten.

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In the distance, the first light of dawn pierced the dark veil of night. Twenty- third of November- nearly winter, four days to thanksgiving, almost a month till Christmas and the day my uncle died.

It was the day that I was meant to cry but no tears came, I felt like over the past few months I’d done nothing but cry and now I just felt kind of numb. Four years to the day since my life had drastically changed and everything I’d ever valued was torn away when they pointed the finger of accusation at me.

I slipped on a pair of jeans and an oversized sweater, all the while staring out the window. Sometimes I felt like this wasn’t really my house or my land and he’d just stride through the door with a smile on his face the size of Texas, ruffle my hair and ask what was for dinner; I’d been the only one who could cook and in the beginning it’s all I’d been good at.

He’d been a better father than my actual one, his brother and I’d loved him so much for all that he’d done for me; he was my idol and the only family I truly loved, the only family who treated me like I was worth something, who actually loved me. 

The keys to my truck sat on the kitchen bench and as silently as possible I picked them up and slid on my boots.

My uncle had been buried in the family cemetery on the ranch, next to our ancestors. I’d been told that the entire town had turned out for his funeral; though I’d been in jail and they hadn’t allowed me to attend. They’d offered a video of his funeral but I couldn’t bear to watch it, watch them lower him into the ground, listen to the praises sung about him, see the tears people cried over him; it would have broken me completely, it would have made it all real, that people honestly believed I’d killed the only man I’d ever truly loved and completely adored.

As always, I took Obi out, riding across the pastures until I reached a steep hill that overlooked the house, fields, the barn, the forests and dirt tracks. It was cold out, silent, dimly lit; it should have been creepy, but all I felt was calm.

I tied Obi to a tree as a shiver climbed up my spine, the cold air kissed my skin and I crossed my arms over my body as I slowly walked through the ankle high grass. The graves were surrounded by a tall wall of trees, almost like they were watching over the dead. His headstone was grey slate, standing proudly between the aging and crumbling stones of those who’d come before us. As I fell to my knees, staring at the words inscribed on the stone, I felt like he was there with me.

In memory of Mark Taylor,

gone from our home but not from our hearts.

“Why’d you leave me? Why did this happen?” I whispered, tracing my finger over the words. “Why’d you have to go? It’s not fair.” It wasn’t fair; it wasn’t his time, we never had enough time and then he was ripped away. I mean, I didn’t even get to say goodbye; I had to discover his body, I was thrown into prison because they thought I’d done it. “I loved you so much; you gave me my life back when I thought it was over. You saved me, why couldn’t I have saved you?”

I felt tears slid down my cheeks and I bowed my head, wiping away the tears. “I miss you, you know? I thought about you every day and sometimes I still think you’re coming back; but I know you’re not.” I lifted my eyes to look out over the horizon as the sun rose. “It’s my birthday today, do you remember what we used to do?” A sad smile came to my face as I plucked stalks of grass from the ground, rolling them between my fingers. “Everyone would have the day off and we’d swim in the lake; at night we’d have a special dinner and triple chocolate mud cake, my favourite.” It had been his last meal and the last time I ever had that cake.

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