To Not Let Go

Chapter Twenty Six

          Renne was staring at eight guys standing in Swayde's kitchen, all dressed in black suits, cowboy hats, and cowboy boots. Sure, she loved her man in Wrangler jeans and a plaid shirt, but man, he did clean up nice in a suit. 

           "Ooh. You look nice. Somebody gettin married that I don't know about?" Renne grinned, oblivious to the serious tone in the room. She crossed the room, maybe more comfortable in Swayde's house than she should be. Filtering herself through the group of men, Renne made her way up to Swayde, standing on her tip toes to give him a kiss. He turned his head right before their lips could meet, so Renne settled for a cheek kiss. 

           "Uh, no, it's a funeral." Swayde said flatly.

          "Oh, no. Who died?" Renne asked, putting her keys down on the island. Her mood was instantly dropped. 

        Several of the guys left the room, sensing that Swayde and Renne needed a minute alone. Plus, it was almost time for them to leave for the funeral anyways. Clearing his throat, Swayde's voice was quiet, sad, and his eyes still hadn't met Renne's. "Uh, Bernie Keith. Our old rodeo buddy. He was on his way home from Cheyenne after his Fourth of July rodeo event and got into a bad car wreck. He was...killed instantly." Swayde said, his head was turned down.

         "Oh, Swayde. I'm so sorry." Renne wrapped her arms around Swayde's middle. He hugged back with one hand. Swayde's words shocked her; they hadn't quite hit her yet because she found it impossible that Bernie was dead. They just saw him three days ago; how could he be gone? 

          "Yeah. And we gotta get goin'. I'll call you later tonight, okay?" Swayde pulled away.

          "O-okay." Renne replied. "I'll talk to you soon. Be safe." She said, confused with the whole situation. Everything was happening to quickly that her mind barely had time to process.

           Swayde sniffed and placed a kiss on Renne's forehead. "You too."

           Renne's mind was still spinning with the news of Bernie's death. They had just seen him a few days ago; how could this have happened? How did the car wreck happened? What about his wife...and his kids? At the thought, Renne's heart grew heavy. His kids would grow up without a dad, just like how Mallory's kids were going to grow up without a mom. 

           Everything in Renne wanted to go with Swayde to the funeral, to be with him and comfort him. She wanted to call Bernie's wife and cry with her, but she was fighting enough battles, getting ready for her husband's unexpected funeral. 

           Deciding keeping busy was better than sitting around and letting her mind reel, Renne began to start cleaning Swayde's house. He was a good housekeeper, but with everything going on recently, dishes were piling up, the floor was in need of a good sweep, rooms that needed tidied up, and there was laundry that needed done. 

        Pulling her hair back into a ponytail, Renne decided to start her cleaning frenzy in the living room. Picking up a few blankets, Renne folded them neatly, putting them back on the couch and in their respectable bin beside the couch. Grabbing a few pieces of trash, left over from a snack, or small meal, Renne tossed them in the waste can in the kitchen before analyzing the living room again. She saw a few DVDs on the stand that they had watched, so she put them back in their places on the shelf next to the TV. 

          Beside the front door, Renne made sure that all the boots were with their mates, and set together on the horseshoe rack. She hung up some ball caps, jackets and cowboy hats on the hooks above where the boots belonged. 

          Satisfied, Renne progressed through Swayde's house. As she stood at his sink, washing the dishes that wouldn't fit in the dishwasher, Renne's mind thought back to the morning of July third when the group baled straw, and then to the morning of Taylor's soccer game. Today was July sixth. It had been only two days since Bernie passed, Renne figured, since Swayde had said he had been killed driving home from the rodeo, which was on July Fourth. Had exhaustion caused the wreck that killed the beloved husband, friend, dad, uncle? Was it from an injury that he had sustained at the rodeo, or possibly a heart attack or other medical issue? Another thought crossed Renne's mind, but she didn't want to go there. However, it was a possibility. Maybe it was a drunk driver that had crashed into Bernie's truck, causing a crash that would recklessly end a wonderful man's life, just because someone was selfish enough to get behind the wheel of a vehicle intoxicated. Kind of like the person that killed Renne and Mallory's parents that night when Renne was just seven years old.