Chapter 16
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Grant
Lily and Poppy are playing outside in the snow, and their squeals of delight follow me inside while I get their hot chocolate ready.
They’re building a snowman after we spent the morning sledding, and though I would’ve thought they’d be worn out by now, they’re still going strong. The crash to come will be a solid one, and I’m not mad when I think of a quiet afternoon indulging in a nap together.
“Poppy? Where are you?”
Lily’s voice finally penetrates my thoughts, and something about the words raises an alarm in my head. I turn off the stove and jog to the front porch. “Lil? What’s up?”
She’s right there, like she was already on her way to find me. “I can’t find Poppy.”
My heart rate spikes, but this is not unheard of. “Okay, walk me through it.”
We retrace their steps, pointing to the trail of prints made by Poppy’s pink snow boots. I half expect to see her across the yard hiding, but she’s in rainbow colors from head to toe, and I see nothing.
A spike of fear seizes me, but I breathe through it and focus.
We call Poppy’s name, I take a quick jog around the house, and still nothing.
The light is flat, and the girls have been carving their way around the yard making pathways and prints all day, so the ease of singling out which ones are hers is all but gone.
“Hey, Lily. Grant.”
Sam’s voice pulls my attention to her concerned face.
For a second, my determination falters and I have this thought that I’d love it if she let me lean on her a second.
I instantly shake that off because I know how to handle this.
I’ve been a dad for almost three years now, and this is my property, and I used to be an operator in the EMU, so I damn well know how to find people.
Yeah, but you’re also human, and overwhelmed, and could really use some help.
“Poppy’s lost. I thought she was just hiding, but I can’t find her. We don’t know where she went.” There are tears in Lily’s eyes and her gloved hands are tucked under her armpits like she’s holding herself together.
“I’m sorry. I’ll help look.” Sam’s instant response gives me a small boost.
I drop to one knee in front of Lily. “We’ll find her. We will.”
When my gaze meets Sam’s, she nods once with such confidence, it gives me a boost like I was trying to give Lil.
“I’m going to call Uncle Finn in case he’s nearby with the horses, and in the meantime, we’re fanning out and walking east on the path.” I signal for us to move forward toward the wide path carved through a sizable copse of junipers and oaks.
We trudge a few feet apart and move in the same direction. So far, I’ve only searched little offshoots and every bit of the yard, but it’s time to expand. We walked this way to get to the best sledding hill, so maybe she ran off in this direction.
It’s darker in the woods, and a surge of “Dear God, please let me find her” nearly crushes my windpipe, but we keep going.
I’m jogging now, and I glance back to see that Sam has fallen into step with Lily.
I don’t want to leave them behind, but the urgency is growing.
I need to get to the top of that hill and spot her.
I’ll see her from a quarter mile away in her snow clothes, so I just need to get to the vantage point and then get to her.
My heart cranks through the exertion and adrenaline pushes me farther, faster, until I’m out the other side of the trees and I skid to a halt, glancing side to side frantically until I catch on a bright pink pompom in the snow.
Horror clutches me and I sprint, then snag the hat when I realize it’s just the clothing and not my baby. “Poppy!” I yell and keep yelling, all the while running to one little grouping of bushes and rocks, then the next.
I haven’t even looked back at Lily and Sam, but I can’t do anything until I find my little girl. The calm I’ve developed over years of high-pressure situations is eroding like sand at high tide, and I’m running out of ideas.
Sound rushes in my ears, or maybe it’s my own blood, so I stop.
Shut my eyes and listen. There’s a faint rustle of something, maybe the zip of fabric against a glove, and then the ring of a bell.
My gaze snaps left, and I think—I do see it.
A pink boot. I’ve never run faster than I do in this moment, pumping my arms as I go, then fall on my ass when I attempt to stop.
“Daddy! You scared me!”
I crawl to my girl and haul her into my arms. “Poppy, love, what are you doing?”
After the first lap around the house, I thought about how I might lecture her on wandering off, but right now, all I want is to cry, the relief is so strong.
“The kitty. He was out here and then he ran. I got scared he’d get lost and be too cold.”
I pull back, easing my hold on this little rainbow marshmallow, and follow her finger to where it points at a black bundle of fur with glowing yellow eyes.
“He’s cold and scared, but I can’t get him.” She sniffles. “He won’t come.”
Unwilling to release her, I keep one arm wrapped around her and tell the cat, “Alright, let’s go, buddy.”
It inches back.
“Oh my goodness, Mr. Bingley! What are you doing out here?” Sam drops to her knees and sets her hand on Poppy’s back right as Lily barrels into her sister and squeezes her, tears tracking down her face.
“Poppy, you can’t do that! You can’t run away!” Lily’s rule-following and responsibility is on full display, but so is her love for her little sister. They are so sweet and love each other so much, even though they fight.
God, my heart squeezes mercilessly with love for these two.
Sam finds my eyes and inhales slowly before exhaling out a cloudy breath. “I’m sorry. Mr. Bingley must’ve escaped when I took out the trash.”
The cat’s name is utterly ridiculous, but now’s not the time.
“I saw him and wanted to get him, but he kept running. I didn’t want him to get hurt, but he just kept going.” Poppy’s distress shines through now, but she isn’t crying, and Lily’s tears have calmed.
“Let me get him. You guys go back and get warmed up.” Sam moves around to the other side of the bush, talking in a calm, slightly higher pitch. “Mr. Bingley, let’s get you inside. Give those paws a break from the cold.”
The girls and I stay put, all feeling the same need not to disturb Sam’s retrieval, and I for one am unwilling to leave anyone behind. At this point, we’re all walking back together, and if I have my way, I’m circling everyone inside for a while.
Well, maybe not the cat.
In another minute, Sam has the ball of fur cradled in her arms. We all trudge back toward home, though I end up carrying Poppy, and right about the time we get to the woods, I help Lily climb up for a piggyback.
With one on my back and one koala-style on my front, I carry this load I’d give my life for in silence next to Sam.
When we make it back to our yard, I let Poppy and Lily down.
“Everyone inside for hot chocolate.” It sounds like a command, and it is, but the girls squeal and race off toward the back door.
“You guys have a good afternoon,” Sam says, heading toward her apartment.
“Where do you think you’re going?”
She turns her head, completely baffled. “Home.”
“No. You’re having hot chocolate, too.”
Her lashes flutter and she presses her lips together. “You realize you can’t just order people around, right?”
I swear she’s hiding a smile, and something in my chest reaches out with grabby hands, greedy for what she’s tucked away.
Plus, even with the terror of the last few minutes, I like the pushback from her.
My kid is safe and she helped find her. Now she’s almost flirting with me, and I want every lick of it.
Yeah. Lick.
I don’t dignify her response because what I want is for her to come inside.
She tucks the cat closer, and her breath freezes when she sighs. “Are you sure? I don’t want to intrude.”
I shake my head, walking alongside her around the front of the house. “It’s not an intrusion when you’re invited, Sam.”
She swallows, almost like she’s nervous. I wonder if I’m being too pushy. It wouldn’t be unheard of, but after a beat, she looses a soft smile. “Okay. Yeah. Let me go put this escape artist away, and I’ll be over.”
“Wait!” Poppy comes barreling out the front door, no jacket, gloves, or hat to be seen, and runs straight up to Sam. She slows just shy of running into her and the cat rears back, but Poppy presses her hands together in front of her chest like she’s praying.
“I’m so glad you’re okay.” She dips her head toward the cat’s head, who has mercifully decided not to continue fighting Sam, and whispers, “I love you.”
Then she turns and bolts back inside, slamming the door behind her.
Sam’s uninhibited smile is stunning, as is my Poppy’s easy love. Two things of beauty in the same moment.
“See you in a few.” If I stay out here with her, I’ll end up doing or saying something stupid to ruin the moment. Better to cut this off on a high note.