Reckless(21)

“Mila, what would you like to do for your dad? What would make you happy?”

“Can we make him lunch and take it to him?”

This kid is too sweet.

“Of course we can.” And if he doesn’t want it? Too damn bad because I’m not sure I can tell her no.





11





Ethan





Logan and I toil side by side the entire morning, grooming horse after horse. I should be shitting rainbows after seeing how well the kids have taken to Tori, but the phone call I got from my lawyer this morning put me on edge again.

My brother takes a swig of his water bottle and wipes the sweat off his brow. “So it’s set then? When you guys go before the judge in a few weeks, it’ll be a done deal? You’ll be divorced?”

I grunt, hating the looming court date.

That word. Divorce. Sounds so final. I guess it is.

The misery of the last two years weighs on my heart, the failure of it reverberating through my bones. This isn’t what I wanted for my kids. Splitting time between two houses. Me worrying if they left their clothes or toys behind. Wondering what they’re doing. Hating that I’m not with them. I may work a lot now, but I can check on them a dozen times throughout the day and hear their laughter when they’re playing in the yard.

“You want me to come with you to court?” Logan chugs another drink and then douses his face. “I could tag along.”

He’s acting like we’re talking about grabbing a beer instead of ending my marriage. I could use his support, though. “Yeah. Thanks.”

As I brush out the mare, it settles in—how out of reach my dream of riding cutting horses competitively has become. I’ll never be able to do it again, at least not when the financial future of the ranch is so uncertain. And definitely not while I’m still figuring out how to be a single parent.

What tears at my conscience is how much my father wanted me to get back in the arena, but I don’t see how I can make that happen with all of the responsibilities I’m dealing with right now.

With a grimace, I pinch the bridge of my nose. I can’t even drown my sorrows with a good bottle of whiskey ’cause I have so much shit to do.

We wash down one more mare before Logan breaks the silence. “Sandra keeps asking about you.”

I have no idea who he’s talking about, but he ignores my foul mood and keeps talking. “She’s that cute realtor we met at the Lone Star. The one who got divorced last year?” He sighs. “The one with the son?”

It takes me a minute but then I remember, mostly because I heard her ex was abusive, which pisses me off. I don’t understand how a man can hurt a woman.

Logan nods at me. “Want me to set you up? You’ve been a monk for too long, and this court date gives us the perfect reason to celebrate.” Using the words “celebrate” and “court date” in the same sentence make me cringe, but I know he’s pissed at Allison on my behalf. “Come on, bro. One beer. Maybe an appetizer. That’s it. Sandra’s a cutie, but if you’re not ready to ‘wham, bam, thank you, ma’am,’ I’m sure you could keep it casual.”

My brother, the romantic.

He nudges my arm, and I shrug him off. “Fine. One beer. Whatever it takes to get you to shut up.”

“Or even better, we could go to the coast for the weekend. Maybe when Allison is watching the kids.”

With everything I have to do around here, taking a weekend to act like I’m young and carefree is impractical. “How in the world would I pull that off?”

The words are barely out of my mouth when a little voice shouts, “Daddy! We brought you lunch!”

A huge smile lifts my lips before I’m done turning around. Standing in the open gate, with sunlight streaming behind them, are Mila, Cody, and Tori. Mila’s carrying a huge picnic basket, one my mother stores over the kitchen cabinets, while Tori bounces Cody on her hip and waves.

It’s such a rare treat to see the kids back here that I instantly feel the sadness from a minute ago start to lift.

Tori hoists my son higher in her arms. “Sorry to bother you, but Mila wanted to make you lunch.”

“It’s no bother. I’ll never turn away food.”

I kneel down to Mila’s eye level, and she throws herself in my arms like she hasn’t seen me in a week. Worry fills my heart, and my eyes connect with Tori, who gives me a look of understanding.

Her voice is soft. Comforting. “She’s having a good afternoon. She just misses you.”

Rubbing Mila’s back, I realize how hard this must be for her. Having my mom leave and a new babysitter take over the very next second. I should’ve planned this better and overlapped them more.

“Hey,” I whisper into my daughter’s hair. “You totally made my day.”

“Yeah?” When she pulls back, she wipes her eyes, but even though she’s emotional, she’s smiling.

“Yup. I was having a crummy morning, but then my favorite people stopped by.”

She looks up at Tori and leans toward me to whisper, “Tori made the food, but I helped.”

“I’m sure it’s delicious,” I say, watching how Tori averts her eyes when I look at her. “What’d ya make?”