Chapter 5
Chapter Five
The noise in the gym was a bubble of high-pitched laughter, shuffling socked feet, and the rustle of plastic balls tumbling out of the pit like rainbow-colored avalanches.
Easton leaned back in the supervisor chair and gripped the armrests.
He wasn’t scheduled yet but volunteered when one of Derek’s appointments ran late.
He didn’t mind stepping in already. This was why he’d come here.
Across the mats and beanbags, familiar faces darted and played.
He grinned as Sadie in her hot pink overalls marched over the gym mats, leading a conga line of giggling Littles.
Megan and Luna were deep in the play kitchen, arguing about whether marshmallow soup needed glitter or not.
And Wren was... Easton shook his head. Well, Wren was attempting to sell imaginary cupcakes for five thousand kisses.
He smiled, his weight shifting slightly as he scanned the edges of the group and noticed a door opening.
Jayne entered quietly from the side entrance. “Butterfly group reporting for chaos.” She shot him a wan smile as she approached and indicated the newcomers with her head.
Easton’s gaze moved past her and faltered. None of the faces were familiar. Not one!
Disappointment washed over him like a tidal wave.
A small herd of Littles, all in tie-dyed T-shirts, clustered behind Jayne, some skipping, others clinging nervously to stuffies. But Danny wasn’t among them.
He should’ve been.
“Danny signed up for Butterfly, didn’t he?” Easton asked before he could stop himself.
Jayne’s eyes flicked to him. “Yes, but he hasn’t joined yet. Sam said he needed a bit more time.”
“Sam? Is he in therapy?”
A nod. Nothing more.
Well, therapy was good. At least the boy wasn’t stewing in his room.
He made himself stop thinking about Wilbert’s Little and forced his attention back to the group.
In her no-nonsense manner, Jayne explained the rules, and they dispersed quickly.
Some of them dove into the ball pit, others ambled toward the craft station in the corner.
Jayne peeled off to help a Little who wanted to join the kitchen play, and Easton resumed his seat.
He sat up straight with his arms loosely crossed, projecting calm in a way that always seemed to work better on Littles than on himself.
Then he noticed him.
Off to the far side, near the shoe cubbies, stood a man built like a defensive lineman but curling into himself like he wished he were invisible.
He had his right thumb in his mouth, and a ragged grayish-brown bunny squished tight to his chest. His tie-dyed shirt had a cartoon planet on it and was at least two sizes too small.
He must be one from the Butterfly group.
Easton unfurled from his seat and approached slowly. The mats made his steps light.
“Hey there, buddy.” He bent a bit, crouching down to eye level. “What’s your name?”
The boy blinked at him with wide and watery eyes and gave Easton a lost look that hit him right in the feels. Then slowly, he extended the bunny like an offering.
Easton tilted his head. “Oh. I see. Who’s this?”
The stuffy was shoved a bit closer to his face, soft nose nearly smacking into Easton’s cheek.
He chuckled. “Well, hello there, who are you...?”
Still silent, the boy wriggled the bunny in his hand. The Little’s thumb popped free with a faint slurp before he spoke in a wobbly, high-pitched voice. “My name is Bumbletruff Sir Hopsalot the Third.”
Easton straightened slightly, adopting his most serious tone. “It’s a pleasure, Sir Hopsalot. How do you do?”
Bumbletruff was made to shake his paw—no, that was his ear—and Easton obliged and met the shake with two fingers and a dignified nod.
“I’m Kevin.”
“Well, Kevin,” Easton said, pointing to his chair near the ball pit. “Would you and Sir Hopsalot like to sit with me for a minute?”
Kevin hesitated, eyes scanning the room full of Littles who were already part of a world he hadn’t quite joined. He inched a bit closer to Easton.
Easton didn’t push. Just shifted his weight back and waited for Kevin to make a decision.
Kevin looked at the bunny. “He’s scared,” he mumbled before pushing his thumb back into his mouth like he’d revealed too much.
Easton leaned in. “You think maybe he’d be okay if he could see everything? I’ve got a perfect spot for him. Right on my lap. He can be the lookout while Kevin goes to meet some friends. What do you think?”
Kevin lifted Bumbletruff and held the bunny to his ear. Whispered around his thumb then nodded.
In a solemn exchange, he handed the stuffy over.
Holding the stuffy like it was a baby, Easton held out his hand. After a brief glance, Kevin took his hand and allowed Easton to escort him to the chair.
After Kevin sat down on the mat, Easton took his seat and cradled the bunny, adjusting him carefully so his threadbare button eyes faced the play area. “Sir Hopsalot, you have the most important job today. Don’t let Kevin out of your sight.”
Easton directed his attention to the Little. “Have you checked the play stations? What do you like most?”
Kevin cocked his head and scanned the colorful room. “They are too wild.” He pointed at the play pen.”
“Okay, that’s fine, you don’t have to join them.”
Kevin looked for a long time at the kitchen area. “I think they might be mean girls and don’t let me play with them.”
“What makes you say that?”
“I don’t know them.”
“But if you don’t know them, how do you know they are mean?”
“I dunno. I don’t like these questions.” His gaze riveted on the painting table. “I like glitter.”
“Sadie is a sweetheart. I know her and I can vouch for her.”
Kevin blinked fast. “Kay.” He struggled to his feet and with a shy nod at Easton, he scurried toward the painting table where Sadie was glitter-bombing a paper plate.
“You did well,” came Jayne’s voice from behind him.
Easton didn’t turn immediately. He adjusted the way the bunny sat on his lap, making sure the plush was upright and facing forward like a vigilant sentry.
Kevin had already scuttled off toward the low table where a group of Littles clustered around crayons and coloring books, like a new kid in school hoping not to be noticed too much or too little.
They were already sneaking glances at him, and Sadie held out a crayon with glitter coated fingers.
Only when Sir Hopsalot was settled did Easton lean back slightly in the sturdy supervisor chair and glance at Jayne over his shoulder. “Thanks,” he murmured.
She eased into the second seat beside him without asking, the familiar creak of her joints more from years of crouching to tie shoes than from age itself. Her presence was like the low hum of a lullaby.
“Kevin’s making progress,” she observed. “That’s the first time he’s let his bunny out of his arms since he arrived.”
Easton followed the boy’s hesitant movements with his gaze. The man was absolutely huge and yet so heartbreakingly small inside. Six feet of anxiety crammed into cute clothes and emotional fragility.
“It’s easier when someone sees you,” Easton murmured, not looking at Jayne.
His hand drifted over the plush fur of the bunny in his lap, thumb stroking the worn seam of one floppy ear. The words weren’t meant to land hard, but they landed like a knife in his chest with a dull thud, like the truth often did.
Jayne hummed in agreement. She didn’t rush to fill the silence. She never had. In all the years he’d known her, she’d remained fluent in the kind of stillness that offered presence instead of pressure.
But Easton’s mind was already drifting. Of course his thoughts weren’t on Kevin, who was now crawling around the mats trying to make another friend but on the one Little who hadn’t come in with the rest of the Butterflies.
Where was Danny?
He’d seen him briefly yesterday, brushing Starling at the stables with more tenderness than he’d shown anyone else. But not today. Not at breakfast, not outside. Not even a shadow in the hallway.
Easton’s fingers stilled on the bunny’s back.
It shouldn’t matter.
But it did.
There was a weight behind that absence, a quiet gap he couldn’t stop noticing.
Danny was trying to blend into the background, to disappear behind a smile and a shrug.
But Easton had seen enough grief in his line of work to recognize its shape in someone else’s spine.
The way it curled them in. The way it hollowed out their light.
He shifted slightly in the chair and glanced toward the door. He knew Danny wouldn’t be there, but he looked anyway.
Kevin had been open and vulnerable, even if scared.
When he’d talked with Danny yesterday, the boy had been shuttered like a storm was coming.
Looking down or at the horse, one foot trying to find a hole in the ground.
He didn’t hide his pain as well as he thought, though.
Easton had seen it, as had Derek. It was a kind of pain that didn’t scream.
It whispered. And Easton had always been a man who listened for whispers.
“Thinking about someone?” Jayne’s words nudged the thought aloud.
He glanced sideways at her, lips twitching faintly. “Am I that obvious?”
Her smile was all warmth and just a hint of mischief. “Only to those of us who care.”
It was an answer that brooked no reply. It was the blessing and the burden to be amongst friends who knew him well.
“I keep wondering.” Easton let go of Sir Hopsalot and placed his hands on the armrests. “How long someone can hold themselves together before the cracks start to show.”
Jayne didn’t answer right away. Instead, she reached over and took the stuffy from Easton’s lap. She smoothed the floppy ears and retied the askew ribbon around its neck.
“Depends.” She studied her handiwork and adjusted the bow a bit. “Some of us crack early and get help. Some of us patch and glue and soldier on until one day… we shatter.” She handed the bunny back to him. “But even then, it’s not too late to put the pieces somewhere safe.”
Easton stared down at the plush toy. Hopsalot’s button eyes stared back, oddly solemn.
A beat passed.
“Wilbert would’ve been proud of you,” she added.
That ache bloomed again, warm and sharp. “I hope so.”
“You’re not just watching, Easton. You’re showing up.”
He turned to her at last, eyes tired but steady. “And if Danny never comes in?”
She smiled. “Then we wait. And we keep showing up. Every day. Until he does.”
Easton nodded
Jayne’s gaze lingered on Kevin, who was now clutching a green crayon like it might disappear if he blinked. “He needs a Daddy.” She indicated the man-boy with her head. “Not just a rotation of caring grown-ups. Someone steady.”
Easton’s throat tightened.
“Are you available?”
He let out a breath that felt a little desperate. “I’m alone by choice rather than by the lack of opportunity.”
Jayne turned her head. “So, why’s that?”
He felt a little like a bug under a microscope.
Tracing a finger down Bunny’s soft ear, he didn’t quite meet her eyes.
“I’m an orthopedic surgeon. My schedule’s brutal.
No boy wants to wait alone for his Daddy when he’s scared or sick.
And he sure as hell doesn’t want someone coming home after a twelve hours shift or being in the OR, being bone-tired and short-tempered because a surgery didn’t go the way it should’ve.
” He glanced at her then. “What I’ve found works is casual play.
When I’m here at the Ranch, I can give it my all.
Be the Daddy they need. When I go home, I can focus on being the doctor my patients deserve. ”
Jayne hummed, the sound neither agreement nor argument.
Before either of them could say more, a high-pitched wail split the air like a pin in a balloon.
Easton shot to his feet. His eyes swept the room, instinct already ahead of logic, and landed on Chloe. She was crumpled on the floor near the blocks, her face contorted in pain, both hands wrapped around one knee.
He crossed the space in long strides and dropped to a crouch beside her. “Oh sweetheart—hey, hey, I’m here.” His stomach twisted at the sight of her crumbled face.
Big crocodile sobs wracked her tiny frame. Her lip wobbled as she tried to speak but couldn’t get anything out beyond a broken, “Hurts…”
“Let me take a look, okay?” He slipped an arm around her to draw her gently into his lap. She came willingly, hiccupping into his shirt. “You took a tumble, huh? Let’s see how bad this ground tried to fight you.”
Her knee was red and a little scraped, but her whole body was trembling.
He pressed a kiss to the crown of her head. “I’ve got you, little one. You’re safe.”
Jayne was there in the next breath, a small first aid kit already open in her hands. “Antiseptic gel and a unicorn bandage. Think you can manage?”
Chloe whimpered and shook her head against his chest.
“Sure you can. You’re a strong girl, right?” Easton asked.
A tentative nod was his answer.
“Atta girl,” he whispered, holding her steady while Jayne cleaned the scrape with practiced efficiency.
Chloe winced and clutched tighter at his shirt.
“I know, I know.” Easton rubbed her back in slow circles. “You are so brave, sweetheart. That sting means it’s working. Magic’s gotta sparkle a little to kick in.”
She let out a soft sniffle and blinked up at him. “It sparkles?”
“Oh yes.” He nodded solemnly, allowing Kevin’s bunny to look up at the Little. “Sir Hopsalot wants to know if you can feel the magic.”
She cocked her head, looking between him, the stuffy, and her knee. “Maybe.”
“You know what brings even more magic? Band-Aids. Especially the unicorn ones.”
Jayne peeled off the backing and carefully placed the sparkly pink bandage across Chloe’s knee. “And there. Sealed with Ranch-certified sparkle magic.”
The moment stretched.
Then Chloe leaned back just enough to check the bandage, gave it a serious inspection, and let out a tiny giggle. “Magic.”
Easton’s chest loosened all at once. “Magic,” he agreed.
“Crisis averted.” Nanny J offered.
“That’s the sound I was hoping for,” he said, brushing a curl out of Chloe’s face.
She looked up at him and whispered, “Thank you, Daddy Easton.”
His breath hitched, just slightly. Then he kissed her forehead and whispered back, “Anytime, sweetheart.”
Chloe wriggled in his lap like she was ready to go, and with a little help, she scampered off only limping slightly but already peeking at the puzzle table where two other Littles were giggling over mismatched animal pieces.
Easton stayed on the floor a beat longer, resting his forearms on his knees.
Jayne placed the kit down and crouched beside him.
“You know,” she asserted. “I think you might be wrong about mixing your personas and how that would work. You just don’t know if you can handle the kind that stays.”
He didn’t respond. He just watched Chloe rejoin the others and ignored the little flutter in his chest.