Chapter Four
Evie
The Wisconsin cold had a way of seeping into your bones, no matter how many layers you wore.
I huffed out a breath, watching the condensation cloud float away, and adjusted my gloves before picking up the gelding’s hoof. He wasn’t the most cooperative horse I’d worked with, but he wasn’t the worst.
“Come on, Shadow,” I murmured, running my hand down his leg. “Let’s not make this harder than it has to be.”
Shadow twitched his tail, his ears flicking toward me as if debating whether to listen. Finally, he shifted his weight, letting me lift his hoof.
Victory.
I grabbed my hoof knife and cleaned the dirt and bits of frozen mud packed into his sole.
My fingers were already numb, and the knife felt like a brick in my hand. But the rhythm of the work, the quiet focus it demanded, always settled me.
Even in subzero temperatures.
“Not so bad, huh?” I asked Shadow as I checked the angles. “I promise this is for your own good.”
He shifted again, his tail swiping at my shoulder like a sassy teenager.
I chuckled under my breath and reached for my rasp.
“Fine. Be dramatic. We’ve got time.”
Just as I began smoothing the edges of his hoof, the barn door creaked open, and Mrs. Anderson stepped in. She was bundled in so many scarves and hats that she looked like a walking snowman.
“Evie, dear!” she called, her voice muffled by the layers. “How’s it going?”
“Cold,” I replied with a grin, standing up briefly to stretch my back. “But we’re making progress.”
She waddled closer, holding a thermos in one mittened hand. “Coffee?”
“Always,” I said, grateful as she poured a steaming cup and handed it to me.
As I sipped the coffee, she leaned against the wall, her eyes twinkling. “You know, I’ve been meaning to ask you something.”
“Uh-oh,” I said, smirking over the rim of the cup. “Should I be worried?”
“Not at all,” she said, her grin widening. “I was just thinking—you’d be perfect for my grandson, Caleb. He’s a nice boy, a hard worker, and just moved back to town. Single, of course.”
I choked on the coffee, coughing as I waved her off.
“Oh, Mrs. Anderson, that’s sweet of you, but I’m not really… looking right now.”
“Nonsense,” she said, undeterred. “You deserve someone good. And Caleb’s very polite. He’d be thrilled to meet you. I already asked him.”
I laughed, setting the cup down on the stool. “I appreciate it, really. But I'm kind of booked between work, Hayden, and wrangling our foster dog.” I added a wink to soften the delivery. “Besides, I think he might be a little young for me.”
Mrs. Anderson chuckled, shaking her head. “Well, the offer stands, dear. You just let me know.”
“Thanks.” I crouched back down to finish Shadow’s hoof, my cheeks still warm from the interaction.
It was moments like these that made me love animals ever more. They never made me feel awkward.
But it wasn’t Caleb I was thinking about—it was Liam. His easy smile, the way he could make me laugh even on my worst days, how he felt like someone I could lean on without hesitation.
“Maybe I am looking,” I muttered to Shadow, who flicked an ear in response. But for now, I had hooves to finish.
I crouched back down, running my hand along Shadow’s leg again to make sure I hadn’t missed anything.
The gelding shifted his weight, giving me the side-eye as if to say, You’re still here?
I chuckled softly, scratching his fetlock.
“Patience, sweet thing. We’ve got one more hoof to go.”
The cold bit at my cheeks. The kind of sharp chill made you question all your life choices.
My breath puffed out in small clouds, mingling with the steam rising from Shadow’s flank. There was a strange comfort in the routine, though—a rhythm to the work that grounded me, no matter how chaotic life got.
I reached for the rasp again. its worn wooden handle provided comfort.
This was how I made our family thrive.
Because of these amazing animals, I achieved dreams I didn’t even know I had. I owned my own home and provided everything and more for my little one.
My fingers were stiff, but the motion was muscle memory by now. I stroked the rasp along the hoof wall, smoothing the rough edges.
Shadow shifted, snorting softly, and I paused to let him settle.
“Hey, I’m not trying to win any races here. Work with me.”
His ear flicked toward me, and I smiled.
Horses always had a way of making me feel like they were humoring me.
Kind of like Liam.
As I worked, my mind wandered.
Mrs. Anderson’s matchmaking had thrown me off.
I shook my head, focusing back on the task at hand. The metal rasp scraped against the hoof in a rhythm.
That’s what this work demanded: steadiness and precision. You couldn’t rush through it, not if you cared about doing it right. And I did. I always had.
My breath fogged again in the frigid air as I crouched, tapping his fetlock lightly to cue him. He shifted and lifted his hoof, and I caught it in one practiced motion.
“Good boy,” I murmured, steadying it against my knee.
I cleaned out the hoof with a pick, flicking away bits of dirt and ice.
My gloves were damp by now, and my fingers ached from the cold, but the process was satisfying. Horses didn’t care about your bad days or your to-do lists. They just wanted you to show up and do the work.
My rasp scraped against the hoof again, the sound sharp and rhythmic in the barn's stillness. The cold was relentless, but the task repetition warmed me in its own way.
As I worked, I thought about Hayden, about how proud he was of battling the knights with Liam, and how he’d laughed when Liam helped him rebuild a fort after Lance knocked it over.
And then there was Liam, sitting in my kitchen, making jokes about bratwursts and sneaky kitchen gadgets, fitting into my life like he’d always been there.
“Focus, Evie,” I muttered, shaking off the thoughts as I checked the balance of Shadow’s hoof.
It was good—better than good. I smoothed out a final rough edge and set his hoof down gently, patting his flank.
“All done, big guy,” I said, stepping back and stretching my arms.
I smiled, feeling the satisfaction of a job well done, even as my hands throbbed from the cold. This work was hard, sure, but this business was mine.
The gentle buzz of my phone cut through the sound of hooves clomping on the barn floor, pulling me out of my focused rhythm.
I sighed, wiping my hands on my jeans, and fished it out of my pocket. The school’s number lit up the screen.
My heart skipped.
Calls from the school were never good.
“This is Evie,” I answered, tucking the phone under my chin.
“Hi, Ms. Grayson. This is Mrs. Wheeler from Buttercup Lake Elementary. Hayden isn’t feeling well—he has a fever and says his stomach hurts. We think it’s best if you come pick him up.”
I dropped the hoof knife into my tool bag and slung it over my shoulder.
“I’ll be there as soon as I can. Thank you for calling.”
My mind immediately shifted into mom mode.
Hayden never got sick—he was one of those kids who could run barefoot through snow and be fine.
If he wasn’t feeling well, it had to be serious.
I made a mental note to call and cancel my last appointment as I climbed into my truck, the farrier’s tools rattling in the backseat of my cab.
When I pulled into the school parking lot, my worry had bloomed into full-on mom panic. I walked quickly to the office as my boots clunked on the tiled floors.
Mrs. Wheeler greeted me with a sympathetic smile and gestured toward the nurse’s office.
“He’s resting in there.”
When I stepped inside, Hayden was sitting on the cot. He looked pale and small under the fluorescent lights. His ordinarily rosy cheeks were flushed even more, and his eyes looked glassy.
“Hey, honey,” I said softly, crouching down to his level. “What’s going on?”
“My tummy hurts, and I feel hot,” he said, his voice tiny.
I pressed the back of my hand to his forehead.
Yep, definitely a fever.
I pushed his hair back from his face, trying to give him a reassuring smile.
“Let’s get you home, okay? You’ll feel better in no time.”
He nodded weakly, and I helped him into his coat, grabbing his backpack from the nurse.
I thanked Mrs. Wheeler and hurried back to the truck, Hayden leaning against my side. He looked so small, and my heart twisted as I put him in the backseat of the cab in his booster seat.
The drive home was quiet. Hayden dozed in the backseat, his head lolling against the window. Occasionally, I glanced at him in the rearview mirror, wishing I could take the fever and stomachache away myself.
It was amazing how motherhood made me want to absorb every bit of discomfort my child felt, just to spare them even a moment of it.
When we got home, I smiled at Hayden in the rearview mirror.
“How are you feeling?”
“Ugh.”
I unbuckled and climbed out of the truck before helping him inside.
We went to his bedroom, and he groaned as he curled up on his bed, his face scrunched in discomfort.
“Okay, first things first—pajamas,” I said, rummaging through his dresser.
I helped him into his favorite pair with dinosaurs and tucked him under the covers.
“There. Feeling a little cozier?” I kissed his forehead.
“A little,” he admitted, his voice muffled by the pillow.
“I’ll be right back.” I headed to the kitchen to grab some water, crackers, and the thermometer.
As I filled the glass, Lance padded over, nudging my leg with his nose.
“Don’t worry, Lance. He’ll be okay,” I murmured, scratching behind his ears.
The dog followed me back to Hayden’s room, hopping onto the bed and curling up at his feet. Hayden let out a small, contented sigh, his hand resting on Lance’s fur. He had definitely found his forever home.
I took his temperature—101.5. Not too high, but high enough to make him miserable.
“Here, honey,” I said, handing Hayden the glass of water. “Sip this for me, okay?”
He nodded, taking a small sip before leaning back against the pillow.
“Looks like you’re staying home with me tomorrow,” I said, smoothing the blanket over him.
“Sorry, Mom,” he mumbled, his eyes fluttering shut.
“Nothing to be sorry about, sweetheart. Just rest. I’ll be right here.”
I sat with him for a while, stroking his hair until his breathing evened out. The house was quiet except for the soft hum of the heater and the occasional creak of the old floors. I finally allowed myself a moment to breathe.
That’s when it hit me—I needed to cancel my date with Liam.
Again.
I chuckled as a soft groan escaped my lips.
There was no way he would buy this excuse, not after I’d canceled on him a million other times.
The truth was that I’d been looking forward to breakfast all week, replaying our texts in my head and wondering if I was finally brave enough to let him in. But life had other plans, as usual.
Pulling out my phone, I stared at the screen momentarily, debating how to word the text. Liam wasn’t the type to guilt me or get upset, but I still felt disappointed as I typed.
Hey, Liam. I hate to do this, but I have to cancel breakfast tomorrow. Hayden’s sick—fever and stomach bug. Rain check?
I hit send and set the phone down, half-expecting it to buzz immediately.
Instead, I focused on tidying up the room, gathering the crackers and water Hayden hadn’t touched and fluffing the pillows around him.
The phone buzzed as I placed the glass on the nightstand.
No problem. Poor kiddo. Let me know if you need anything—soup, ginger ale, anything. I’ve got you covered.
I’ve got you covered. His words hit me so strongly that tears pricked my eyes. I quickly left the bedroom and dabbed my eyes from the unexpected flood of emotion. I’d been so void of comfort in my life that…
“Get it together,” I muttered under my breath and stared at my phone.
I quickly typed my response.
Thanks, Liam. Appreciate it. He’s got me running nurse duty, but I’ll keep you posted. Just so you know, I canceled all my work appointments too. You know, just food for thought with my history and all.
He immediately texted back.
I didn’t doubt you for a second.
Warmth pooled in my belly as I walked back into Hayden’s room and sat down. I leaned back in the chair again, watching Hayden sleep.
His little chest rose and fell steadily, and Lance’s soft snores filled the room. It wasn’t the evening I’d planned, but it reminded me how much I loved my unpredictable life. Hayden’s dad really missed out on a great family.
No, it wasn’t that simple. He didn’t leave me. I chose better.
The thought clung to my thoughts as my mind drifted back to the many sleepless nights I’d had, clutching my pregnant belly and wondering what to do.
I knew I deserved better. I just didn’t know I was strong enough to give it to us.
But I did it.
Seven years ago…so why did I still live in worry that his father would appear and try to take everything away?
I shivered and shook my head.
Because I knew him.
I glanced at the phone again, Liam’s words replaying in my head.
I’ve got you covered.
Maybe breakfast could wait.
Maybe some things were worth waiting for.
Maybe I’d finally found a guy who wasn’t like the rest.