Chapter 8 #2
The main house of Hartwell Hills was where everyone gathered.
Abi and Cash called it home, along with my favorite eight-year-old, Stetson, but more often than not, the entire family met here for dinner.
Abi and Cash moved around the kitchen, Stetson was sitting at the table already playing on a video game, and Rhett and Kyla were taking turns dancing with their baby girl, Poppy.
Once Lachlan arrived, it would be the entire family—and oddly enough, I felt welcome.
My mom often complained that I never arrived for family dinner.
Well, if it were like this, I would’ve been there every night.
“Hey, Quinn!” Abi called. “Glad you could join us. Cash, get her a plate.”
I gave him a smile stuffed with sarcasm as he handed me the plate and silverware.
“I meant put it on the table for her,” Abi scoffed.
“She’s got it,” Cash remarked, giving me a grin.
Abi gave her fiancé an eyeroll while Cash lightly kissed her on the cheek.
I waved the plate in the air. “I definitely got it.” I chuckled, moving back to the table to claim my seat next to Stetson. “Hey, little dude,” I said, running my hands through his unruly hair.
He didn’t even move. All of his energy was poured into the gaming console in his hands.
“Stetson.” Cash’s voice dropped a few octaves. “Turn it off.”
“Dad,” Stetson grumbled, and shrugged his shoulders as his console dropped to the table. My heart swelled hearing him call Cash ‘dad,’ and I’m sure if mine did, Cash was ready to burst. I quickly turned to him to see if I could catch a hint of happiness. “Can I just beat this level?”
Cash widened his eyes. The joy and love for the kid were there, but he was in full-on dad mode right now. My dad was—well, used to be—the same.
“Save it.” He grumbled, his jaw clenching. “You can play tomorrow.”
Stetson sighed in protest, but shut off the video game, placing it screen down on the table. “Hi Quinn,” he finally sighed, his voice was heavy.
“What were you playing?” I asked, hoping I could pique his interest back a little bit. Last year, he was excited to be on the back of a horse, helping me with barrels, and ready to be anywhere Cash was. “I didn’t think you liked video games.”
“Mario is really fun. That was Super Mario Odyssey, and I was really close to beating it.” Stetson looked up at me.
“Ah, well, tomorrow then.” I tried to give him some form of hope. “I’ve missed you at the arena,” I admitted, nudging his shoulder. “I haven’t had anyone to place the barrels for me.”
“Once I’m on spring break, I can help.”
Before I could answer, the back door slid open and Lachlan came bursting through, snow falling from his boots and hat.
“Fuck it’s cold. I didn’t think it was supposed to snow this hard.” He removed his hat, placing it down on the small table next to the door, the drips of snow hitting the wood.
“Uncle Lachlan…” Stetson widened his eyes and tried to keep the smile from his face.
“Oh, sorry. I mean…Fudge, it’s cold.” Lachlan ruffled Stetson’s hair a lot harder than I did, which earned him a laugh from Stetson as he attempted to fix it.
“It’s supposed to snow through the night, which reminds me, Quinn,”—Cash caught my attention—“aren’t you leaving tomorrow?”
I shook my head. “No, Thursday. Tomorrow is prep and packing.”
“Ah…” Rhett sighed, his body in full rocking mode as he tried to comfort a fussy Poppy.
“I miss those prep days. And the road. You should ask Wyatt for help. He was always making sur—ah, Poppy Girl.” He stopped, jerking his head back as Poppy’s arm flung out of her swaddle, her scream louder than before, barely missing her dad’s head.
“Is she okay?” I asked, my gaze narrowing on the bundle in Rhett’s arms.
“She has colic, and I can’t walk her around like I do a horse, so”—Rhett looked down at his daughter and his motions became more extreme—“we bounce.”
“And not sleep.” Kyla pulled up a chair across from Stetson, folding her arms in front of her to lay her forehead down. “We’re on night two.”
“Here,” Wyatt said, walking up to Rhett, his arms outstretched. “Let me take her.” He did a ‘gimme’ gesture with his fingers.
“She’ll scream. You think this is bad…once I hand her over, everyone here will lose their hearing.” Rhett responded, looking at his brother as if he were crazy.
“Who was able to get Stetson to sleep when he was crying?” Wyatt raised a cocky brow.
“Sylas.” Abi and Cash said in unison.
Wyatt gave them a glare. “Okay, when Sylas wasn’t an option.”
Abi tightened her lips. “He’s right. Wyatt had a way with Baby Stetson.”
Rhett took half a millisecond to decide to hand the fussy baby girl over to Wyatt. He took her gingerly, bringing her to his shoulder, his large hand resting on her tiny bottom. He began to sway, a small bounce to him, and then he began to hum.
The familiar country song filled the room, his hum—like his voice—was deep and soothing as he lightly moved around the room.
The solid sound coming from him was most likely causing the perfect vibration for Poppy to feel, and soon she stopped fussing and curled herself into Wyatt’s shoulder.
But even when she was quiet, Wyatt kept humming.
And I couldn’t stop watching.
The sun was out again, and all the heavy snow that had settled on the ground was already beginning to melt.
It snowed through my entire prep day, making it hard for me to get back to the stables to get Hook and Charming ready.
Thank God for Cash Callahan. Since the plows hadn’t been out, I was home packing and confirming everything I could while Cash helped me at the stables, so when I pulled up Thursday morning, Hook and Charming were ready to go.
I filled the tack with all the essentials and guided Charming in the trailer first, tying him up and rewarding him with a kiss.
When I came back for Hook, I stopped when I saw Wyatt already leading him out to me.
“Figured he was next,” he said, handing me the reins. “When will you be back?”
“Monday,” I answered, leading Hook into the trailer next to Charming.
“And you really are going to take both? You can leave Hook here. I’ll make sure he’s good.”
“You’re not stealing my horse, Hartwell.”
“That wasn’t what I was doing, Compton.” He gave a slight laugh as he shoved his hands into his coat pocket.
“That’s the second time you’ve called me Compton.” I shook my head as I tied Hook up, making sure to talk loud enough for him to hear me. “Didn’t think we were on a nickname basis.”
“Compton isn’t a nickname. I could give you one if you like, but then I’d be breaking the bet I lost.”
I jumped from the trailer, landing right in front of him, the mud splooshing under my boots. “Glad you remembered the bet.”
“Seriously, I can watch Hook.”
“I always travel with both my boys. I rotate who I ride, and seeing as I have four rides this weekend, I need them both.”
“Four rides? In three days? Isn’t that a bit much?”
“Nope,” I answered quickly. “Not for me.”
Wyatt raised his brows and began to sway, his feet solid on the ground.
He folded his arms as his body moved back and forth, back and forth, and damn…
all I could see was him holding his niece, humming to her as she fell asleep in his arms. I wasn’t one to fawn over men holding babies—hell, I didn’t even know if I wanted children—but the sight of him being sweet…
and gentle…and loving…was a side I hadn’t seen.
The inkling that there was more there hit again.
Maybe he wasn’t such a bad guy after all.
“I could come,” he added hastily, snapping me out of watching him sway. “To the rodeos with you. It’s been a while since I’ve been to one, and I’d like to get back to it. “
I pinched my brow, the vision of him holding Poppy vanishing.
He hadn’t been to a rodeo in months. He was missing something, and I had a good feeling what that ‘something’ was.
The one remark reminded me he was exactly who I thought he was.
“What, so you can keep marking off those Miss Rodeos off your list?” I bit, folding my arms.
He flinched, taken aback. “Um…no. To help you.”
“Wyatt,” I sighed, dropping my arms, closing the trailer door. “I don’t need help. I put my schedule together and confirmed everything. I don’t need to babysit you while I’m at it.”
“Babysit? Quinn, I don’t need to be babysat—”
“I’ll be back on Monday,” I interrupted him. “I’m sure you can keep bribing my horse with peppermints when I get back.” I locked the trailer and gave Wyatt one last look.
Turning on my rig, I watched Wyatt in the sideview mirror, his arms still folded as he turned to go back into the stables. The image of the sweet and gentle Wyatt became clouded by his chasing girls—chasing me—helping me be grateful that he had been sticking to the terms of the bet.