Chapter 23
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
L ayla was at school when I first arrived home, and Harper was nowhere to be seen. Dorian was busy doing a crossword puzzle in the kitchen with Matty, their heads bowed over like they were formulating a war strategy plan. Matty glanced up when she heard me enter the room.
“Cole,” she said, dropping her pen on the table as she stood and rushed over toward me. “Layla is so excited you’re taking her on a trail with her pony later. She’s been packing and her poor pony is going to look like a mountain Sherpa’s mule.”
I sniggered and glanced at Dorian. “Hey, Bro, did you miss me?”
“Like a bad bout of dermatitis,” he shot back.
“Yeah, you’re only saying that in front of her. Once Matty leaves the room, you’ll be all over me,” I teased back.
“What were you two like as kids? It’s a wonder your mother still has hair,” she scoffed, chastising us both.
“What do you mean? We’re the reason she still does. Those real hair wigs are fucking expensive I’ll have you know,” I joked.
Dorian was about to take a swig of coffee and sprayed out his nostrils, sending the coffee out of the cup and over the table .
“And he’s back,” he announced standing up and wiping the wet patches down the front of his T-shirt.
“Jesus, you see why I have to go to work? I gotta keep this deadbeat, who can’t even drink a cup of coffee without help.” As we all laughed, the gate buzzer sounded, interrupting us and signaling the return of Layla and Harper.
Turning, I stepped over the weekend bag I’d dumped when Matty came at me and headed for the front door. As Stuart drove up the driveway, I could see Layla’s hand waving frantically from the rear passenger window.
Harper sat in the front, her large shades giving her the advantage over me because I couldn’t tell what she was looking at, even if I felt it was me.
When the car came to a halt, I jogged down the few steps and opened the back door.
“Daddy!” Layla exclaimed, excitedly.
“Layla!” I mimicked back, and she giggled. Her sound was so infectious it even pulled a smile from Harper’s lips.
“What time are we hitting the trail?” she asked, sounding like she’d heard the line from an old cowboy movie, and I bit back a grin. Layla could neither tell the time or knew what ‘the trail’ was.
“I figured we’d have a snack and a drink then we’d saddle up. How does that sound?”
“Like a plan,” she replied, and I grinned again.
Bending toward her, I lifted her up into my arms. Wrapping her little ones around me she squeezed me tight. “I missed you so much, Daddy,” she mumbled into my neck.
“I missed you too, Baby.” Inhaling her sweet little scent was my smell of home. Pulling away from me, she cupped her hands to my face, her usual way of grabbing my attention and holding my focus.
“It’s you and me… nobody else?” she asked.
I glanced toward Harper, who quickly averted her eyes by turning her head, and I nodded. “Yep, Layla, just me and my girl.” I knew it was a low blow, but Harper had made it clear the day before she wanted nothing from me. If I drew a reaction, it was on her.
Sliding Layla to her feet, I took her hand and led her inside the house. Entering the kitchen again I saw Matty had pre-empted the snack and drink and had laid a pitcher of milk, freshly baked bread and some sandwich meats on the table.
Inhaling deeply, I sat quietly making up a small sandwich while Layla filled me in on her day at school. Harper had gone straight up to her room and I decided to let her stew for a day, because as much as I wanted my thing with her resolved, Layla came first.
Watching the excitement almost burst from Layla’s chest as I sat her on her pony was an uplifting feeling. Holding onto her reins, I led her sedate little pony, Glitter, out of the paddock as I sat on my own mare, Elbe.
Stuart had been giving Layla riding lessons on a little Shetland pony since she was old enough to hold the reins, but these days it kept her newer pony, Glitter, company in the stables. This ride was the first time Layla had been outside of the paddock with me on Glitter. I had a lot of trust in the fifteen-year-old and I’d bought her because her temperament was placid and she didn’t spook easily.
“I love your cowboy hat, Daddy,” Layla said, chatting easily.
“Me too, Sweetheart; it’s very cool, right? Makes me look like the Lone Ranger.”
“Who’s that?”
I smirked, “Never mind, it was a character in a movie before your time.”
Leading her down to the meadow, we followed the river east along the south side of the property. We weren’t going far, but I took it slow. An hour in the saddle felt like a day at Layla’s age, so we stopped at a place where I knew it was safe and we set up camp.
Naturally I cheated with a new pop-up tent Harper had ordered online and there was a box in my saddlebag crammed full of fresh morning rolls, beans, sausages, relish, and tomatoes, but we gathered dry wood and I taught her how to safely make an open fire. The look on her face was sheer delight when it began to smoke and the small kindling, tumbleweed, and twigs caught fire .
Taking a small cast iron frying pan, we cooked some sausages and beans over the fire and Layla behaved as if it were the best meal she’d ever tasted. When night fell, I took our sleeping bags outside of the tent and spread them on the ground, then lay my baby down on her back.
As we were a little way into March, it was still chilly once the sun had gone down, so I covered her up with a thermal blanket and I lay down beside her. All around us was silent, except for the crackling logs on the fire, as we both gazed up at the clear night sky.
It didn’t matter that I hadn’t paid attention during the astronomy lessons in science, and because Layla knew no better, I made up stories about the ones I could make out, like the Big Dipper, the Three Sisters, and Orion’s Belt.
Lying beside me, her little head turned left and right and her huge doe eyes were totally enthralled by everything I told her. She even added some narrative when she tapped into her own imagination.
I was so impressed by my daughter’s ability to adapt to her new situation, because it was far removed from the comfort and safety of her bed, yet she showed no fear from being out there with me.
“Which one is Mommy?” she asked, and I suddenly stopped mid-sentence from an explanation I was attempting to make about the Milky Way.
I’d never made mention of Grace being a star and I guessed it was something Harper had told her in an effort to comfort my daughter.
“Which one do you think?” I asked, feeling concerned I’d say something wrong.
“That one,” she said pointing to the North Star.
“There are millions of stars up there. You sound pretty certain in your choice,” I replied.
“I am because Harper said Mommy was the brightest star in the sky, and if I needed to find her, she’d be easy to spot.” My heart clenched because the significance of the sentence told me Harper had anticipated times when my daughter would feel lonely and need something to identify her mom with.
“Ah, that’s why you knew.” I stated, agreeing with her choice .
Turning on her side to face me, she scooted over and nestled in my arms. “Yeah, you’re not going to be a star soon, are you, Daddy?”
Hearing those words choked me. “No, Baby, I’ve no plans for that. I’ve got a gorgeous little girl to take care of. I aim to be around for a long, long time.”
Glancing up at me, she flashed me a beaming smile and I swear she lit up the dark. “Good, because I was worried about that.”
“Sweetheart, sometimes I have to go to work, and that’s unavoidable, but take it from me, as soon as I can come back, I’ll always be here. You’re my heart and I need you as much as you need me.”
Satisfied with my response she sat up and looked down at me.
“Okay, my butt feels icy, and the dirt is hard, can we get into the tent now?” she asked, moving swiftly on from her deep conversation and back to the practicalities of our night under the stars.
Sleeping with her clothes on, Layla snuggled into her sleeping bag and wedged herself up close. “Night Daddy, I love you,” she confessed, sounding groggy in minutes from the cold and the late hour of nearly 9:00 p.m.
“Night, Baby, I love you too,” I replied, yawning myself. It had been a very long day.
A freezing cold nose trailed down my neck as little iced fingers snuck under my layers of clothes. I woke with a start as my daughter struggled her way inside my sleeping bag.
“Damn, where are your socks?” I mumbled, scooping her little body into my side.
“Lost them inside the sleeping bag,” she mumbled, shivering with the cold. Her cold nose skimmed my neck again, and I hissed with fright.
“Okay, Baby. It’s still dark, let’s go back to sleep.” Snuggling her closer, I wrapped my fingers around her feet, and I sighed as we resettled comfortably. Feeling the warmth we generated between us made me tighten my grip, and my heart swelled with love for my sweet little girl.
“Glitter’s hungry.” Cracking open one eye, I smiled affectionately at my gorgeous hot mess of a daughter, who was standing, looking disheveled, by the zipper opening of the tent. One jean leg was tucked into a tiny scruffy cowboy boot, the other half in half out. With her hands on her hips and her crazy tousled mass of bed hair, I’d never seen her look more adorable.
“Is that right? And what about Layla? Is she hungry as well?” I asked, talking about her in third person.
“Welllll,” she began, dragging the word out. “The fire’s out. How will you cook something?” she asked, as she held her arms out in a helpless gesture and twisted her body to look back at the burned-out fire again.
Sitting upright, I pushed my way out of the sleeping bag and clumsily climbed out of the tent. “It just so happens I brought a little stove with us. How does fried egg sandwiches with ketchup sound?”
“Like a plan,” she nodded. “What did you bring for Glitter and Elbe?”
“Look around you, Sweetheart. The land is their food, and by the looks of them they’re food drunk after eating all this lush green pasture overnight. Matty did put some carrots and apples in as treats for them though.”
Turning away from me, she hot tailed it over to the saddlebags and rummaged inside. “Careful, remember the eggs are fragile,” I warned.
Between us we managed to make breakfast, feed the animals, and take down the tent all before 8:30 a.m. “Are we going home now?” she asked.
“Do you want to? Have you had enough?”
“Well, we could go slow, but it’s mac and cheese night,” she informed me.
“Good to know a trip with your dad comes second to a plate of mac and cheese.”
“Don’t be silly, Daddy, I can’t eat you,” she replied, using her innocence to answer.
Still smiling I felt a small amount of disappointment our trip in the wild was coming to an end, and strapped the rolled-up tent onto my saddle. Lifting Layla up, I sat her back on her pony and we headed back toward the house. I guessed sixteen hours with a guy six times her age got wearing after a while.
During the slow ride back toward the house we spoke about her classmates’ antics. She even spoke about liking Ruth, but she didn’t mention the guy Harper was seeing, and I never asked. The last thing I’d have stooped to was pumping my daughter for information, no matter how curious I was.
We arrived home just before lunch, reeking of bonfire and horse sweat, but I’d never had a better time with my daughter since the day she’d been born.
Layla had barely cast off her mucky boots before she rushed upstairs to find Harper to tell her about her adventure. Following suit, I walked past Harper’s suite and into my bedroom, listening to Layla’s animated storytelling about our adventure.
Stripping out of my clothes, I turned on the dial in the wall of the shower. Stepping under the hot steamy spray, I closed my eyes at the luxurious feeling of the warmth invading my bones. My back, ass, and neck ached from my night on the hard ground, but I wouldn’t have swapped it for the world.
For a second I wished Harper would be as easy to please as Layla had been, but somehow I knew if I was ever going to stand a chance with her, I’d have to work hard to convince her.
Showered and dressed, I was tying my sneakers when Layla burst through my bedroom door, hair still wet and squeaky clean from the shower. “Turkey or ham?” she asked.
“Both… and tomato,” I called after her as she had already turned away and was heading back to the kitchen as soon as my first word was out. Staring after her, I marveled at the energy she still had after a night of broken sleep and a few hours in the saddle.
The first person I noticed as I entered the kitchen was Harper, head down engrossed in her phone. “Anything interesting?” I asked because I was done being ignored in my own home, and I wanted her to look me in the eye. I felt buzzed from being in the same room as her again, which was a different feeling for me. I studied how beautiful she looked as she replied.
“Yeah, I have date number two tomorrow. Luke’s mom is keeping his daughter this weekend and he’s taking me to see Ed Sheeran.” From her body language I knew she was going for a casual disclosure, like she was only dropping it into conversation, but the challenge in her eyes when they met mine told a completely different story. The arrangement was supposed to have an impact on me.
It reminded me of JoAnn’s comment about sometimes games being necessary, and I nodded. “Good, I hope you have a great time,” I replied, managing to sound authentic, knowing full well she’d be pissed at my nonchalant reply after the conversation we’d had via Skype.
My father used to say sometimes you need to keep women guessing, and he used to tell Dorian and me it was this tactic that had helped him snare my mom’s interest and keep it. There was an almost overwhelming attraction between me and Harper, but I wasn’t going to beg her to rethink her date.