Chapter 9
Eight
Wyatt
“The last time you asked me to babysit, Stetson flat out refused and ended up going with you, remember?” I placed my palms on the kitchen island, mimicking my sister’s stance.
It barely crossed my mind that someone said I was the one who needed babysitting, not three days ago, and now I was the one being asked to babysit.
Abi bit her bottom lip, her eyebrows furrowing with an expression that screamed worry. Please, Wyatt, she begged silently, watch my kid. Being the asshole brother I was, I’d let her stew for a little bit. Except my sister didn’t know the meaning of the words ‘little’ and ‘bit.’
“That was almost a year ago, and now you’ll have Stetson and Poppy. Stet will be thrilled to help entertain her for a day.” Her hands moved from the counter to her sides, her expression still pleading.
“A day?” I repeated, louder than I intended. “You and Rhett want to trust me”—I pointed to my chest—“with your kids for an entire day.”
“Well, afternoon into the evening. We’ll be home shortly after bedtime, but…” Abi raised a shoulder. “Stet can stay awake until Cash and I get home.”
“Where are you guys going? The four of you? The ultimate double date?” I pushed myself off the counter, swinging my arms until they landed on my hips.
Abi’s face fell as her hands slid across the marble counter, her fingers coming together as she fiddled with the engagement ring on her left hand. She was being quiet…unusually quiet. Whereas before she couldn’t stew…it seemed to be all she wanted to do now.
“Abi,” I drew out her name.
“Cash and Rhett were able to sign up for a rodeo in Boise. A few cowboys had to back out, and they had some room, so they were able to jump on.”
“Boise? Tonight?”
As much as I hated to admit it, my stomach dropped the moment I knew they were going to the Round-Up, a rodeo I had announced at a time or two.
It wasn’t a huge event by any means, but still, it was my rodeo.
Cash and Rhett would probably bring home a couple of hundred bucks each, but seeing as they both just did rodeo for their own enjoyment and not for their careers, they most likely got a call and signed up last minute.
And yet—I didn’t get any kind of call from the committee.
The look on Abi’s face was all the proof I needed to know she was even hesitant to tell me where they were going.
That stung a little harder than it should have.
I missed being behind that microphone. Every time I thought about what I was missing out on—the rustle of papers as we followed the line up, the judges in our ears calling out scores, the view being the best one in the entire house, the excitement that just came with being there—whenever those memories even remotely passed through my brain waves, I could feel a piece of me shatter.
Working on the ranch was one thing, helping me figure out that rodeos weren’t everything I had to look forward to, but it didn’t completely kill the void that only being back in that booth could fill.
I licked my lips and heaved a sigh, pulling myself back together to look at my sister.
She let out a long breath through her rounded lips. “Sorry, I know it sucks to know we are all going to a rodeo while asking you to stay behind with the kids—but—”
“Abi.” I stopped her, raising my hand. “I’m the one who fucked up, remember? Just because I can’t participate doesn’t mean that Cash and Rhett shouldn’t.” I swallowed, putting on my best face. “You don’t think Stet will want to go?”
She huffed. “Oh, he will, but we want to go to dinner after, as yes”—she lifted her hands air quoting—“the ultimate double date. Which includes a restaurant and drinks, and no kids allowed. You’re great with the kids. Stet and Poppy love you.”
“I know they do,” I said with a cocky grin, waggling my eyebrows. “I’m the best damn uncle any kid could have.”
But damn, I’d rather be at that rodeo.
“I’ll pay you,” Abi added quickly.
“No, you won’t.” I gave her a pointed glare. “You know damn well I’ll watch them. I’ve finally seen Bluey and kinda want to watch more.”
“Not too much screen time, please. That kid has become addicted to his Nintendo.”
“Well, why did you let your fiancé get it for him for his birthday?”
“He was turning eight. It was a big deal,” she defended. “We didn’t think he’d get attached to Mario.”
I chuckled, rolling my sleeves up. “I’ll hide it. When are you guys leaving?”
“Around one, enough time to get some chores done, and Cash has a few clients this morning. Oh.” She lifted a finger in the air. “Kyla needs you to stop by her house so she can fit the baby carrier on you.”
I pinched my brow. “Why?”
“You can’t do night check and feed the horses while carrying a baby, can you?”
“Hell no, but…looks like Stetson is learning night check tonight because I am not wearing a baby carrier.” I shook my head, firm on my decision.
But I made a liar out of myself when I did indeed go to Kyla’s, where she showed me how to put on Poppy’s chest carrier.
She hooked me up and slipped Poppy inside, her little blue eyes facing me, a smile on her small lips.
Kid was cute, I’d give her that. She had the Hartwell eyes with her mama’s hair, and she knew she had her Uncle Wyatt wrapped around her little finger.
Kyla went over all the things I needed to know in detail, and I took mental notes.
I’d watched Stet a few times, but never when he was as young as Poppy.
I may have been good with him, but I traveled a lot, plus I didn’t think Abi and Sylas were trusting enough to leave me alone with him.
I could get the kid asleep, I could rock him and put him in his crib, no issues.
I could hum until he calmed and began to hum along with me, but Abi or Sylas was always with me.
“Dumb question…” I asked, looking down at my niece as she cooed. “Well, a few. Can she sit up yet? Can she hold her head up? Can she…walk?”
“Don’t be an idiot, Wyatt.” Kyla rolled her eyes. “She’s four months, what do you think?”
I pinched my brow. “The last bit was a sarcastic joke, but—”
“Yes, she can hold her head up, but not for long. We haven’t mastered sitting yet, and if I come home and she’s walking, I will murder you.”
“Harsh.”
“I’m not ready to chase a toddler. And Wyatt.” Kyla spun, her gaze hitting mine like a million swords. “No horses. Not yet.”
I gave her a salute and then began to pull Poppy from her carrier.
A few hours later, Stetson, Poppy, and I stood on the front porch of the main house, watching the two couples roll away, the dirt trailing behind them.
Poppy breathed a few sounds, her legs going crazy as I held her back against my chest, her little bum fitting perfectly in my palm, and Stetson stood with his arms folded, his brow furrowed as he watched the car vanish from sight.
We stood in silence for a few moments, as if what I was about to say was going to cause them to turn the truck around and never allow me to babysit again, but finally, I looked at Stetson and said:
“Wanna ride a horse?”
Poppy took in her tummy time on the stable floor, her wobbly head following us as Stetson readied his horse for a ride, and I slipped the bridle onto Rusty, the baby carrier slung over my shoulder.
Marshmallow bobbed his head, leaning down to Poppy on her blanket, even licking her hair and making it stick up in all angles.
Rusty kept giving me looks, no doubt wondering why a horse as trained and perfect as him was going to be walking next to a younger gelding like Marsh. I swear I even saw him roll his eyes.
I looked down at Poppy as I pulled the baby carrier off my shoulder.
“Damn,” I muttered. “Now I have to give her a bath.”
“You’ll have to anyway,” Stetson grunted, hoisting the saddle up and over Marsh, “If you don’t want Aunt Kyla to know she was on a horse. Is she riding with me!?” He perked up, his eyes wide.
“She’s not gonna be on a horse.” I tightened Rusty’s lead.
“Your aunt said no walking and no horses, and I don’t want Kyla to hate me.
I’ll have her in the carrier while I walk Rusty.
She’s a Hartwell, girls gotta get used to horses.
” I looked back down at Poppy, holding herself up on her elbows, Marshmallow’s nose sniffing her head.
Her little face was trained on the big white beast in front of her, mouth open, eyes wide with fascination.
Marsh huffed, Poppy flinched, and I noticed snot on her forehead. “I will be giving her a bath.”
Moments later, Stetson was mounted on Marsh, and I had baby Poppy settled against my chest in her carrier as I guided Rusty around the outdoor arena.
Rusty huffed, wanting to move as fast as Marsh was, but he kept by me, his nose finding Poppy and giving her little nudges.
Stetson led Marsh in a canter around the arena, passing us a few times while I took Rusty soft and slow, letting Poppy get used to the animal next to her.
I hummed the same Shania Twain song that Mom would hum for us, the same one that calmed her the other night, as Rusty’s hooves hit the ground with a thump.
Poppy never fussed as we walked, her eyes wide with wonder, completely enchanted by either my humming or Rusty. My bet was on the latter.
“Pretty damn sure she’s gonna love horses. Look at the way she’s looking at Rusty.” I shouted across the arena to Stetson.
“Just you wait. She was born to ride!” Stetson called, slowing Marsh down to my other side, sandwiching Poppy and me between the two horses.
“What do you think she’ll do? Breakaway roping? Trick riding? Dressage and show jumping at the Olympics?” I tickled her back through the carrier and felt her legs kick.
“Barrel racing, like Quinn!” Stetson replied. “I can teach her! Quinn taught me! I’m an expert.”