CHAPTER 15
I grip the fence rail so tight my knuckles turn white, watching Sophie on Buttercup in her small saddle. The morning breeze contrasts with the heat of my skin. My heart is in my throat and I’m forcing myself to stay quiet. Jake’s right there beside her, one hand on the lead rope, the other at Buttercup’s side.
Sophie’s face is nothing but determination as she holds onto the reins and saddle horn. She looks up and I notice her little helmet is slightly crooked.
“You’re doing great, Sophie. Remember eyes forward, back straight and heels down.” Jake encourages. “Just like that.”
I can’t breathe watching my little girl on that horse. She’s so small up there. What if she falls? What if she gets hurt? What if—
“She’s a natural.”
I jump and let out a small yelp, my hand flying to my chest. Gavin stands beside me, arms crossed over the top rail of the fence, watching Sophie with an approving smile.
“Sorry,” he says, glancing at me. “I didn’t mean to startle you.”
My heart hammers for a whole new reason now. “It’s fine. I was just… focused.”
“I can see that.” His features soften. “But seriously, your daughter’s got good instincts. Most kids that age are all over the place their first time.”
I turn back to Sophie, who’s now smiling as Buttercup plods along the fence line. Jake keeps a steady hand on the lead rope, talking to her the whole time.
“You know,” he says, crossing his arms and giving me a sideways glance, “when I was about her age, I fell off my first horse three times in one day.”
“That’s supposed to make me feel better?” I raise an eyebrow at him.
He grins, running a hand through his dark hair. “Well, yeah. Because here I am, perfectly fine. And look at me now.”
My fingers unconsciously tighten on the fence rail again.
“You’re going to give yourself splinters if you keep gripping that fence any harder,” he comments.
I force my hands to relax, feeling the heat rise to my cheeks.
“Is it that obvious I’m a nervous wreck?”
“Only to someone who has eyes,” he says, then seems to catch himself and quickly adds, “I mean, you know, I’m a medical professional. Just making sure you don’t pass out or anything.”
I try to steady my breathing, watching Sophie giggle as Buttercup tosses her head. My daughter’s laughter is like music, a sound that’s been missing for too long.
“She looks happy,” he says beside me.
I’m acutely aware of his presence, of his eyes on me. It’s strange. With Matt, being watched felt suffocating. His eyes would track my every move at the grocery store, at Sophie’s daycare, even at home. “Why are you standing like that?” he’d ask. Or, “Who are you smiling at?” Each glance felt like an accusation.
But Gavin’s gaze doesn’t make my skin crawl. It’s… different. Genuine, soft, almost.
“I’m sorry about before,” I say, still not looking at him. “I’ve just never seen her on something so… big.”
“Buttercup’s the gentlest mare I’ve ever treated. She’s practically a therapy horse.”
I steal a glance at him. He’s not watching me anymore, his attention is on Sophie, his expression thoughtful and professional. Not calculating. Not controlling.
“Look, Mommy! I’m riding!” She calls out, waving one hand before quickly grabbing the saddle horn again.
“Both hands, Miss Sophie!” Jake reminds her gently.
My heart does a little flip watching her, but I manage to wave back. “You’re doing amazing, Soph!”
“She really is,” Gavin says. “Jake’s a great teacher.”
The way he stands beside me, close but not crowding, makes me realize how tense I’ve been. For so long, I’ve associated being watched with danger. But there’s no judgment in Gavin’s occasional glances, no possessiveness, just… interest. Normal interest.
I find myself relaxing my grip on the fence rail, letting my shoulders drop from where they’ve been hunched around my ears.
“You’re doing okay too, you know,” he says quietly.
I look at him, surprised.
“Buttercup is the epitome of a gentle giant. Did you know she’s been giving riding lessons to kids for over twelve years? Never a single incident.”
I take a deep breath, trying to let his words calm me.
“Really?”
“Really. That mare has the patience of a saint and the instincts of a mother hen. She’s probably more protective of Sophie right now than you are, if that’s even possible,” he adds with a playful smile.
“Now you’re just making fun of me,” I say, but I’m smiling too.
“Maybe a little,” he admits. “But it’s working, isn’t it? You haven’t death-gripped the fence in at least two minutes.”
I look down at my hands and realize he’s right.
“Okay, fine. You win, Dr. Feel-Good. Your distraction techniques are very effective.”
“I have many talents,” he says, puffing up his chest dramatically.
“And modesty clearly isn’t one of them,” I tease back.
A silent beat passes as we both watch Jake lead Buttercup in a tight circle to change directions.
“You know what else?” he says, his voice softer now. “She’s got your determination. Look at how focused she is. That’s all you, Bailey.”
The sincerity in his voice catches me off guard, and I turn to look at him. He’s watching Sophie with genuine admiration, and something in my chest flutters at the sight. The way the afternoon sun catches his features, I find myself studying his profile longer than I probably should.
“Thank you,” I say quietly.
“Just stating facts,” he says with a casual shrug, and I catch the pleased look in his eyes. He shifts slightly, clearing his throat before turning to face me fully. “Hey, I was wondering… what would you say to scheduling another outing with me?”
“Well look who finally made it to my ranch!” Ms. Lucy’s voice rings out as she approaches the fence. She’s wearing a straw hat, some loose jeans and a pink blouse today, a knowing smile playing on her lips as she glances between the two of us.
“Hi, Ms. Lucy,” I say, even though I flinched at her voice from behind me.
“Bailey, honey, I’ve been thinking,” she starts “Could me and Lil’ Bit head up to my house after her lesson and practice baking her birthday cake? She also mentioned a wrecking movie with a glitch in it that she wanted to watch.”
“Oh, I couldn’t–”
“I could sure use the sunshine.” She smiles.
I freeze, Ms. Lucy’s invitation hanging in the air between us. Gavin just asked me out. My mind races, trying to process both conversations at once.
“I…” My voice trails off as I glance between them.
Gavin’s invitation replays in my head. Another outing. Another date. The idea both thrills and terrifies me.
My eyes dart to Sophie, still riding Buttercup with Jake’s steady guidance. Her little face is glowing with joy, a smile I’ve missed seeing. She deserves this happiness, these childhood experiences.
“Wreck-It Ralph,” I murmur absently.
“That’s the one!” She snaps her fingers together. “Sophie’s been telling me all about it.”
My stomach twists. I’ve already left Sophie with Ms. Lucy twice this week. What kind of mother keeps pawning off her child?
“I don’t know…” I say, my fingers finding the fence rail again.
Gavin shifts beside me, giving me space. I appreciate that he doesn’t push, doesn’t make me feel cornered.
I watch Sophie again, her little face beaming with joy as Buttercup plods along. When was the last time I’d seen her this happy? When was the last time I’d allowed myself to feel anything beyond fear and anxiety?
“Okay.” I say, straightening my shoulders.
Ms. Lucy’s eyes light up. “Wonderful! Sophie and I will have ourselves a grand old time.”
I turn to Gavin, whose expression shifts from patiently waiting to pleasant surprise. “And yes, to you too. Another outing sounds… nice.”
The word feels strange on my tongue. Nice. Such a simple thing that’s been absent from my life for so long.
“Great,” he says, his smile reaching his eyes. “I’ll pick you up.”
“What time?” I say, my flutters into my chest.
“Wanna say… six?”
I nod, then look back at Sophie. She deserves to see me living, not just surviving. She deserves a mom who can show her what happiness looks like.
“Mommy! Did you see me?” She calls out as Jake leads Buttercup closer to the fence.
Jake helps Sophie slide off Buttercup, his weathered hands steady as he guides her to the ground. The moment her little boots touch dirt, she starts toward me, her helmet bobbing slightly.
I crouch down and open my arms wide, catching her as she barrels into me. The solid weight of her small body against mine always centers me in a way nothing else can.
“I sure did see you, baby girl! You were amazing up there.” I squeeze her tight.
She pulls back, her eyes bright with excitement. “After we brush Buttercup can I give her apple treats?”
“I don’t see why not,” I say, standing up and brushing some dust from her jeans.
I turn to Ms. Lucy and Gavin who are watching us with matching smiles.
“Would it be okay to give her a treat?”
“Of course,” Ms. Lucy says, adjusting her straw hat. “That’s exactly what good riders do; they take care of their horses first.”
Gavin nods in agreement. “Nothing better than teaching responsibility early. I’ll make sure there are some treats in the barn you can give her.”
“Can I brush her too, Mommy? Mr. Jake showed me how,” she says, eyes determined.
“Yes, but first let’s get this helmet off you.” I say as I unclasp the straps.
Unbuckling her helmet, I catch Gavin watching us, his expression warm. My heart picks up speed again, but not from my anxiety for once, but something lighter. Something I haven’t felt in a very long time.
“Come on, Soph,” I say, taking her hand. “Let’s go thank Buttercup for the ride.”
I cradle my phone between my ear and shoulder while folding the throw blanket on the couch. Sophie sprawls on her belly on the floor, legs swinging in the air as she works on her latest masterpiece. Mr. Hoppy, her constant companion, sits propped against her side.
“I don’t know, Em. When I’m around him, everything just feels… different.” I smooth the blanket’s wrinkles, trying to find the right words. “Like I can breathe again.”
“That’s called attraction, B.” Emma’s laugh crackles through the phone. “And from what you’ve told me about this guy, he seems genuinely interested in you too.”
I move to straighten the throw pillows, my movements automatic as my mind drifts to Gavin. His patient smile and the way he doesn’t crowd my space. How he seems to understand without me having to explain.
“Maybe.” I bite my lip. “But there’s so much he doesn’t know.”
“Then tell him.” her voice softens. “If he’s worth anything, he’ll understand.”
I pause in my tidying, watching Sophie concentrate on her drawing. “I can’t just dump all that on him. We’ve only been on one date.” I whisper.
“Bailey Monroe, please listen to me. That bastard—”
“Em,” I cut her off, glancing at Sophie. Even though she’s absorbed in her coloring, I lower my voice. “Not now.”
“Fine. But you can’t let what happened control your future forever. Matt’s probably too drunk to even—”
“I know.” I cut her off again, not wanting to hear the rest. The image of Matt sprawled on our old couch, surrounded by empty bottles, flashes through my mind. “Look, I should go. I need to talk to Sophie about tonight.”
“Okay, but promise me you’ll at least think about what I said?”
“I promise.” I end the call and slip the phone into my back pocket.
“Hey, sweet girl.” I settle onto the floor next to Sophie. “That’s beautiful. Is that Buttercup?”
She nods, adding more brown crayon to her horse drawing. “And that’s you.” She points to a stick figure with yellow hair. “And that’s Mr. Gavin.” Another stick figure, taller with dark hair.
My heart squeezes. “That’s very nice. Speaking of Mr. Gavin…” I run my hand over her soft hair. “Remember how I said I was going on an adventure with him tonight?”
She looks up at me. “Uh-huh.”
“Well, Ms. Lucy invited you over to her house while I’m gone. She said since your birthday’s coming up next week, maybe you two could practice baking a cake together.” I boop her nose. “What flavor would you like?”
Sophie’s face lights up. “Chocolate! With purple frosting?”
I smile. “I’m sure Ms. Lucy can manage that. And maybe some sprinkles too?”
“Yes!” She hugs Mr. Hoppy tight. “Can we put stars on it?”
“We can put whatever you want on it, baby.” I pull her into my lap, breathing in her sweet scent. “It’s going to be your special day.”
She settles against me, playing with Mr. Hoppy’s floppy ears. The silence stretches for a moment before she asks, “Mommy?”
“Yes, baby?”
“How come you and Daddy aren’t together anymore?”
My breath catches. We haven’t talked much about her father. I’ve been avoiding it, hoping she wouldn’t ask, but knowing she would eventually.
I pull her into my lap so I can see her face.
“Because Daddy was mean?”
Tears prick at my eyes. How do you explain domestic abuse to a four-year-old? “Well baby, sometimes grown-ups don’t treat each other the way they should. And when that happens, it’s better if they don’t stay together.”
She nods, processing this. “I like Mr. Gavin better.”
“Oh?” I manage, my throat tight.
“He’s nice.” She hugs Mr. Hoppy closer. “He doesn’t yell.”
My heart shatters. I pull her closer, pressing my face into her hair to hide my tears. All this time I thought I’d protected her from the worst of it, but she’d seen more than I realized. Heard more than I’d known.
“And he makes you smile, Mommy.” She touches my cheek. “You didn’t smile before.”
I wipe my eyes, forcing a watery smile. “You’re right, baby. Mr. Gavin is very nice.”
“Can we go see Buttercup again soon?”
“Of course we can.” I kiss her forehead. “Now, should we pack your backpack for Ms. Lucy’s? Maybe we can bring some of your coloring books so you can make her a special picture?”
She scrambles off my lap. “Can I bring my new markers? The sparkly ones?”
“Sure can.” I stand up, my legs shaky. “And don’t forget Mr. Hoppy. I’m sure he’d love to help with the cake testing.”
As I help Sophie gather her things, my mind spins. Emma’s right, I can’t let Matt control our future forever. But it’s not just my future I’m worried about. It’s the little girl in front of me, carefully selecting which markers to bring, who’s already seen too much, heard too much.
Looking at her now, seeing her excited about baking and drawing and riding horses, I realize something. She’s healing. Faster than I am, but children are resilient that way, I suppose. They live in the present, while I’m still stuck in the past.
Maybe it’s time I took a page from my daughter’s book. Maybe it’s time to stop letting fear control what could be.
I check my phone, four hours until Gavin picks me up. Four hours to decide if I’m brave enough to let him see all of me, broken pieces and all.
“Mommy, can I bring Mr. Hoppy too?”
I smile, pushing aside my heavy thoughts. “Of course you can.”
She places him carefully inside her backpack. “Will you be back to tuck me in?”
“You bet. I wouldn’t miss it for anything.”
“Promise?”
“Cross my heart.” I make an X over my chest, and she giggles.
“Can Mr. Gavin come say goodnight too?”
The innocent question catches me off guard. “Oh, honey, I don’t think-”
“Please? He does good monster checks. He showed me at the barn, remember?”
I remember. He’d made a show of checking behind hay bales and in empty stalls, declaring them “monster-free zones” while Sophie watched, giggling.
“We’ll see, baby. But for now, let’s focus on getting ready for your baking adventure with Ms. Lucy, okay?”
She nods, returning to her packing. I watch her, marveling at how easily children adapt, how freely they give their trust when shown kindness. Maybe I could learn something from that too.