Chapter 12
Chapter Twelve
KADE
“Joey, can I ask you something?”
Walking up to the front desk, I drop off the box of paint samples on the counter and lean over. I get an irritated look from her. Considering I’m her boss, it’s pretty bold of her. Considering she’s Presley’s best friend?
I still expect it. I’ll deal with it. Eventually I’ll win her over.
“What is it?” Her tone is more polite.
“What would a five-year-old like to do?”
“Huh?” She looks confused.
“Poppy is coming by this afternoon, and I don’t know what to do with her,” I confess.
“Didn’t you take her riding the other day?” she asks. “Kids love horses.”
“I already did that. I want to do something different with her.”
“Hiking? Archery? Fishing?”
“Fishing?” That piques my interest. “Would she like fishing?”
This time, I get a smile from Joey. “I think she’ll like it. Poppy isn’t your average girl. She likes doing everything. And I mean everything.”
Fishing. I wouldn’t have thought of it, but I always liked fishing. It was something I was good at. Verne would take me out in his boat and we’d float for hours. Sometimes, we didn’t catch anything, but we’d enjoy each other’s company. Those days with him were some of my favorite.
Maybe Poppy will enjoy it like I did.
I rap my knuckles against the counter. “Thanks, Joey.”
As I start to walk away, she calls me back before I can leave.
“Kade.”
I stop, spinning on my heel to face her again. “Yeah?”
“Don’t hurt them. They’ve been through a lot and they deserve to be happy. Both of them.”
Why the fuck is everyone being so cryptic? I keep hearing about what they’re going through, but what the fuck? Have I really missed that much in the years I’ve been gone?
I scrub a hand down my face. It’s fucking driving me crazy that I don’t know what’s going on in their lives.
Am I even entitled to it?
Heading out front, I bypass the workers bringing in supplies to work on the guest rooms and wait for Poppy. Her babysitter is dropping her off today.
I’m excited that she’s coming. That Presley is trusting me with her. A blue car pulls up around the driveway, Poppy’s excited face peering at me from the backseat. Complete with her cowgirl hat.
I wave at the nanny before Poppy bursts out of the car.
“Hi, Kade.”
“Hey, Poppy.” I kneel down, holding my hand out for a high five, which she happily returns. “Ready for more fun things at the ranch?”
“Why’s it called The Lost Spur?”
I look at her babysitter. “She asked when we came in. I said you would know. I’m Becca, by the way.”
“Kade.” I stick my hand out for her to shake.
“Nice to meet you. Have fun with Kade, Poppy. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“Bye, Becca!” Poppy calls back to her before turning to face me.
I tap a finger on my chin. “So, why is it called The Lost Spur?”
“Do you know?” She adjusts her hat.
“You know those metal things on cowboy boots?”
She nods. “Mr. Verne used to wear them.”
“He lost one of his one time, so he walked around town with only one on his boots. He looked funny, and people laughed at him. He thought it’d be funny to name his ranch that.”
Poppy giggles. It’s the sweetest damn sound, and I love that she’s at ease with me. “Did he ever find it?”
“You know, I don’t know,” I answer honestly. “Are you ready for the activity we’ll be doing today?”
“Are we going to see Lollipop? I drew her picture at school.” Setting her backpack down, she fishes out a piece of paper and hands it over to me. There’s a brown blob in the middle with two stick figures on either side. “That’s us with her.”
“Wow, this looks great.”
She smiles. “I made it for you.”
I swallow back the emotion that threatens to take over. “Thanks, Poppy. I’ll have to show Lollipop later, but today I thought we could go fishing.”
“Fishing?” She screws her nose up as she slings her backpack over her shoulder. “I’ve never been fishing. Aren’t they slimy?”
Grabbing her hand, I lead her down to the lake that sits near the front of the property. It’s a short walk and doesn’t take us long, even adjusting my stride to her smaller steps.
“We’ll catch them then throw them back.”
“We’re not going to eat them? I like fish sticks.”
I hold back my laughter. “These aren’t the kind of fish you eat in those. But I have a feeling you’ll have fun.”
Poppy shrugs a shoulder as the old shack that holds the fishing gear comes into view. “Okay.”
I find a small pair of waders and boots for Poppy to wear and grab the fishing lines to head out to the canoe.
“Now, I want you to stay seated, okay? Can you swim?” I ask as I buckle her life jacket.
She nods. “Mom takes me when it’s hot outside to the pool.”
“I’ll thread your line and show you how to cast it.”
“What’s casting mean?” she asks.
“It’s how you throw your bait in to try and catch a fish.” I mimic the move. “The farther away, the easier it is to draw them in. We want to be nice and quiet so we don’t scare them off.”
“I can be quiet,” she whispers, to prove her point.
“Good job.” I give her a high five. “Let’s get out there.”
Poppy chatters away about her day, telling me about her friends as we get farther away from the shore. I don’t know who any of the people she’s talking about are, but I love hearing about her day.
Finding a good spot, I come to a stop and grab the tackle box and our poles.
“Pick a lure and I’ll help you bait your line and then we’ll cast them.”
Poppy picks a bright orange one and I show her how to do everything. She’s a natural as her line sails into the water.
“Did I do it right?”
“You did. Great job.”
“Did you do this with your dad?” she asks.
Poppy is full of questions.
I shake my head. “My dad wasn’t around much when I was your age. But you know who showed me how to fish?”
“Who?”
“Verne.”
She giggles. “Mr. Verne liked Miss Betty’s secret milkshake.”
“What’s a secret milkshake?”
“It’s a secret.” I don’t miss the duh in her tone.
“Right.”
“My dad hasn’t taken me fishing.”
If only she knew.
“Do you want him to take you fishing?”
She shakes her head. “No. Because he makes Mom sad.”
“He does?” I ask, turning my attention to my daughter. She’s sitting cross-legged in the boat.
She nods. “Ever since we left Dad. He made her sad, so we left.”
Dad. It hurts to hear her call someone else that when I’m her actual father. When that douche Paul got this time with her. He doesn’t deserve her. Hell, he doesn’t deserve either one of them.
“She left?”
“Mom said we were getting a new house, but Dad wasn’t coming. It was after Grandpa died.”
“Your grandpa died?”
That’s news to me.
“Yeah, but he wasn’t fun. I couldn’t do anything at his house because I’d get in trouble if I broke something.”
“I’m sorry, Poppy.”
I don’t know how long Presley and Poppy have been on their own, but I hate that Poppy had to worry about these kinds of things. Chalk it up to another reason I hated Presley’s dad. If he were here now, he wouldn’t approve of me spending time with Poppy or Presley.
He’d do everything in his power to get me to stay away from them.
The bastard.
“Being here is fun,” she says, a smile brightening her face before her rod tugs. “Did I catch one?”
“Yes.” Dropping my pole to the side, I cover her hands with mine and slowly start to reel him in. The closer he gets to the boat, the more he thrashes.
“I can see him!” Poppy points to him. “He’s huge.”
“You did good, Pop.”
By the time I find the basket to catch him, Poppy is squealing. Pulling him out, he’s at least eight inches long.
“He’s huge!”
“Can you believe you caught him?”
“I’m the best fisher girl in the world.”
“Damn right you are. You want to hold him?”
Her blue eyes go wide. “Will he be slimy?”
“Scaly and wet, but it’ll be okay.”
She holds her hands out and I pass him over.
“It’s weird,” she says.
“We need to throw him back in a minute.”
“Can I name him first?” she asks.
“Sure. Let me snap a picture of you holding him for your mom.”
“Frankie. His name is Frankie,” she tells me.
She holds out the fish, her smile taking up her entire face as I take the photo. It’s the cutest thing ever. Poppy is beaming with pride as I help her put him back in the water.
“I can’t wait to tell Mom!”
She helps me with baiting and recasting her line, and a happy smile settles on my face.
Fishing with my daughter.
I never thought that this would be my life. By the time I moved to Seattle, I put kids and any kind of future where I was happy out of my mind. If I didn’t have Presley, I didn’t see the point of having a family.
But this? This feels pretty damn good. And is reminiscent of days with Verne.
One of the reasons I loved fishing with Verne was getting to talk to him.
Some days, we didn’t speak more than two words to one another.
Other days, if I was having issues with Presley’s parents, I’d vent to him.
He was there for me more than my dad ever was.
Getting some version of what’s going on with Presley from Poppy, even from her point of view, makes me want to know more.
Makes me want to be here for my daughter.
Whatever Poppy needs, I’ll be there for her. No questions asked.
Except to get to the bottom of what’s going on with Presley.
That requires a lot of questions. Ones I hope I can get answers to today.