Chapter 47
CHAPTER FORTY-SEVEN
Dakota
“Breakfast pancakes!” Charlie yells the moment we step through the doors to The Old Mill Café. “I want strawberry ones.”
Violet’s laughter rings through the room. “Coming right up, my favorite little customer. And coffee for your mom. I’m sure she needs it.”
I roll my eyes playfully as I wave at Violet from across the room.
“You know me too well,” I call back. “Extra strong today.”
Charlie, full of his usual morning energy, grabs my hand and tugs me toward the window tables.
“Can we sit by the window?” he asks, his eyes lighting up at the thought of the spot that overlooks the main street of Colter Creek.
“Of course, kiddo,” I say, smiling at the joy on his face.
As we walk over to the table, I can feel the familiar warmth of the café wrapping around me. The wood floors creak underfoot, and the sun spills through the windows, painting everything in soft gold.
It’s small-town charm at its finest.
I love that Violet has this. And that she turned her back on a corporate life for her café. She suits it.
I just hope I will as well.
We settle down, and Charlie immediately starts bouncing in his seat, his eyes darting around the room. He’s always been an early riser, and his enthusiasm for breakfast is just as contagious as his energy.
Violet places menus in front of us with a wink. “You’re looking tired, Dakota. Fun night?”
I take a deep breath. “You could say that. It was definitely dramatic.”
“You’re going to have to tell me all about it in a moment.” She shoots me a wink. “Just be warned, Mom is out back helping out. I think she’s going to want to know all the gossip when she sees you.”
I chuckle. “Yeah, fair enough.”
As if on cue, Alice appears. “Charlie! Did you finish the horse drawings we started last night?”
Charlie nods eagerly, a huge grin on his face. “I made them really big and strong. Like the ones at Clint’s ranch!”
I feel a small knot form in my chest at the mention of Clint. It’s been hard to ignore the way he’s been around Charlie lately, the way he’s shown up in ways I didn’t expect, and what happened last night has my mind reeling.
A family. All of us. How will that look?
Violet walks over with a fresh pot of coffee and pours me a cup. “Here you go—extra strong just like you ordered.”
“Thanks, Vi,” I say, taking a sip, feeling the warm liquid course through me. “I needed that.”
Alice sits down across from me. “So Dakota, did you enjoy your night last night?”
“It was wild,” I say with a sigh. “And feelings were shared.”
Alice cocks a brow. “My goodness. Feelings?” She can tell we’re being careful not to say too much with Charlie around. “That’s good news.”
“Does that mean you’re going to stay? For sure?” Violet jumps in. “Like, definitely?”
“I…” I feel heat rise in my cheeks. “I didn’t plan for it. It just… happened. And it’s confusing, but also… not? With them, it feels natural. Like I don’t have to hide parts of myself. So yeah, I really do think I’m going to stay.”
Alice smiles knowingly, folding her hands. “Honey, love doesn’t always look the way people expect it to. What matters is that it’s honest, and that it makes you feel whole.”
Violet nods. “Exactly. And honestly, Dakota? You look lighter today. Happier.”
I glance at Charlie, now coloring on a napkin, his tongue poking out in concentration. My chest tightens. “I just… don’t want to mess this up. For him. Or for me.”
Alice reaches across the table, her hand warm over mine. “You’re not messing anything up. You’re choosing to build something new. That’s brave, Dakota. That’s love.”
Her words settle deep in my chest, heavy and grounding all at once. Maybe that’s what this is. Choosing love, even when it’s messy.
Even when it scares me.
Violet grins. “So,” she says, lilting with amusement, “when’s the next wild night?”
I laugh, shaking my head. “Let’s just get through breakfast first.”
But even as I say it, I can’t help the smile that spreads across my face. Because for the first time in a long time, the idea of staying doesn’t feel like running from something.
It feels like coming home.
Later, back at the house, the sound of Charlie’s laughter ricochets as he races around the living room, lost in a game of pretend. I can’t help but smile at the way he’s so effortlessly absorbed in his own little world.
I grab my sketchbook from the coffee table and flip through the pages, settling on a blank sheet. Charlie settles in the corner, stacking toy blocks, his concentration so fierce I can practically see the gears turning in his head.
Taking a deep breath, I start to sketch. Birds. Something simple to clear my head. Their fluid shapes are familiar, comforting in their simplicity.
A robin perched on a branch, its feathers soft and curved, its beak a quiet whisper against the air. I move the pencil in slow strokes, trying to focus on the rhythm of it.
But no matter how hard I try, my mind keeps wandering back to last night. To them.
Clint, with that quiet intensity in his eyes. The way he looks at me, like there’s a thousand things he wants to say, but he’s waiting for me to make the first move. His presence lingers in my thoughts, a promise I’m not sure I’m ready to keep.
Sawyer, with his calm, thoughtful way of speaking. He listens. Really listens. It’s such a rare gift, and it makes me feel seen in a way that’s almost foreign to me. When I’m around him, I can breathe a little easier, and it feels like maybe the weight I’ve been carrying isn’t all mine to bear.
And then there’s Reid, always so full of life, so effortlessly charming. His laugh is infectious, his energy impossible to ignore. There’s something about the way he touches me, always just a little playful, daring me to join him in whatever adventure he’s got planned next.
It’s exciting, thrilling, and… terrifying.
I press my pencil a little too hard into the paper, the tip scraping the surface with a squeak. The bird’s wing takes on a jagged shape, nothing like I intended, and I let out a sigh.
“Charlie,” I call softly, catching in the quiet room. “Can you come sit with me for a minute?”
Charlie looks up from his blocks, his eyes wide with curiosity. “What’s up, Mom?”
I smile at him, motioning for him to come over. He hops off the floor and climbs onto the couch beside me, his small body settling next to mine.
His energy is boundless, but when he’s close, there’s a calming effect.
I show him my sketch. “What do you think? Does it look like a bird to you?”
Charlie studies it, furrowing his brow in that serious way he gets when he’s really concentrating.
Finally, he grins. “It looks like a bird to me. But, um…” He hesitates, tapping his finger against the paper. “It needs to be flying.”
I laugh softly, feeling a warmth spread through me. “Flying, huh? You’re right. It does.”
Charlie leans forward, his little fingers brushing the edge of the sketchbook. “Mom, are we going to live here for real?”
I swallow, my heart tugging. The thought of Charlie dreaming so big, of wanting a future here, of maybe even calling Colter Creek home, warms me, but it also brings a rush of uncertainty.
Can I really build that kind of future here, with Clint, and Sawyer, and Reid? Can we make it work?
“Maybe we can,” I murmur, more to myself than to Charlie. “If that’s what you really want.”
He smiles at me, his wide eyes full of hope and excitement. “I think it would be awesome, Mom.”
The birds begin to take flight on the page, their wings lifting upwards. And finally, I feel something close to peace.
I’m starting to take flight, too—one cautious moment at a time.