Before he did anything else, he had to visit Beth.
He parked on the church road and walked to her grave, then squatted down to put the Thanksgiving chrysanthemums in the vase and think things over. He remembered when he first saw her, the weekend she'd met his family, their two-year courtship, the day they got married, their honeymoon in the foreman's cottage. They were so young, so infallible.
Their years at The University of Texas had been difficult, but somehow the hardships drew them even closer together, and when they graduated, the world had opened its arms to them. Beth was starring in Dallas musicals, and he was an up-and-coming architect. The birth of Delilah had been the icing on the cake.
Then Dad started having stomach trouble, and he'd found himself spending every other weekend in the Bosque Bend Hospital waiting room. And when the end came, he knew had had to move Beth and Delilah back to the ranch.
He'd been surpised at how quickly Beth had adjusted to the lifestyle. Oh, God, they'd had so much together. Every day, they'd ride out together wiht Delilah on the saddle in front of him. And the week befor Beth died, she'd told him she was pregnant.
He gazed at the chrysanthemums again. He would always love Beth, but she was slipping further and further away from him every day, while Moira was drawing closer and closer. He bowed his head for a long moment, then stood up, tugged Beth's gold band off his ring finger, and put it in his pocket.
Beth had been the wife of his youth, but he wanted Moira ro be the wife of his maturity.