7. Beau
seven
Beau
Ollie perches on a dining chair, and I watch him from the corner of my eye.
I made a big breakfast for our first day in the stable, but he’s only nibbled half of his toast and he’s barely made a dent in his eggs.
But his juice glass is empty, so I top it up and hope the sugar will get him through to midmorning when I can try to get him to eat again.
The best I can do now is smash my omelet and hope it sets a good example.
I wish I knew what the hell I was doing.
Before Sarah called and asked me to come collect Ollie, I hadn’t seen her in years.
Hadn’t seen Ollie since he was in second grade.
I never wanted to be a father, but there’s nobody else to raise this boy, and maybe, for once in my life, I’m better than the alternatives.
It’s dark outside, that promising predawn gray when a man can fool himself into believing that today will be better than yesterday. When Ollie sighs for the third time since I coaxed him out of bed, I decide it’s time to distract him.
I swipe up the bag at my feet and pull out a brand-new kid-sized Stetson. “Here. If you’re going to be a cowboy, you need a proper hat.”
Ollie’s eyes light up as he takes it, and the tension in my middle eases.
“Put it on,” I say. “Let’s see how it looks.”
He settles the hat on his head and looks at me hopefully.
I grin. “It suits you.”
“Really?”
“Oh, yeah. You were born to wear a hat like that.”
He hops down to run to the hallway mirror, and I let him admire his reflection for a minute before it’s time for us to leave the cabin.
“Okay, buddy. We don’t want to be late for our first day. Let’s get going.”
I help him shrug on his backpack, then with a brush of my hand on his shoulder, steer him toward the porch. “Go out and get your boots on while I fill our water bottles.”
“Okay, Uncle Beau.”
He swings open the door, then jumps back.
There’s a man standing in the porch light.
He’s tall, though not as tall as me, and built through the chest in a lean kind of way.
His hair is pulled back, and he’s wearing a chef’s jacket and a scowl—until he lays eyes on Ollie.
That’s when his shoulders drop, and his expression goes from “on a mission” to “not sure what to do now.”
Ollie stares up at the guy without speaking or retreating, his narrow shoulders pulled back and determined. I clear my throat to let him know I’m here, then walk over and rest a protective hand on Ollie’s head.
“What can I do for you?” I ask.
The guy hesitates, eyes falling to Ollie before returning to me, and his gaze hardens.
“Can I speak with you?” he asks like I should know who he is.
I don’t, not officially, but the smooth slope of his nose is familiar, as is the way he tips his head when he talks. And I am on her family’s ranch, which means this guy with the chip on his shoulder has to be Daisy’s brother. And he’s here to put me in my place.
“Sure,” I say easily, like he’s inviting me out for a beer instead of a beating. I give Ollie’s shoulder a pat. “Give us a minute, buddy. I’m going to step out and talk to— Sorry. I didn’t catch your name?”
“Dylan,” he replies shortly.
I nod toward my nephew. “This is Ollie. And I’m Beau, but I figure you already knew that.”
“Nice to meet you, Ollie,” Dylan says, then to me, “And yeah, I did.”
Ollie hovers, his hands balling into fists, and I pat the little guy’s back.
“Everything’s fine. Dylan is Daisy’s brother, and he just stopped by to say hello.” Ollie looks unconvinced, so I add, “Why don’t you go inside and get our water bottles? This won’t take long.”
Ollie scowls but goes to the kitchen and opens the fridge. I step out onto the porch, deliberately crowding Dylan out of my way, and pull the door almost closed behind me. Around us, the morning Sonoma fog hangs like a wet, gray blanket.
“If this is a warning to stay away from your sister, you don’t need to trouble yourself.”
“I think I do.”
I remind myself that Silver Leaf is a family business, and Daisy’s brother is as good as my boss. Never cared for bosses much and never thought twice about flipping one off if I wasn’t having a good time, but Ollie changes that. I’ve got to accept the bridle, however hard it pinches.
I cross my arms and square up. “Go for it.”
“You hurt Daisy,” he grinds out. “If it were up to me, I would’ve thrown you off my property the second you got here. But as much as it kills me, it’s not up to me.”
“You’re right. It’s not.”
His nostrils flare. “The moment Daisy gives the word, I’ll be back to pack up your shit and throw you out.” He steps closer. “She hates you. That’s enough for me to know you’re an asshole, and none of us tolerate assholes here. Watch your step and count your days. Got it?”
I scan his face for hints that Daisy told him the truth about what happened between us, but there are none. And why should there be? I’m nothing to Daisy’s family. Just a secret she kept all to herself.
Dylan turns to leave, but I speak before he gets three steps.
“I know this is fucked up,” I tell him. “I know Daisy is better off without me.”
He looks over his shoulder before turning around. “Then why the hell are you here?”
I glance back at the cabin. “Ollie needs a home and a parent figure who can give him a good life. I didn’t have those things growing up, and neither has he—so far. I’m not letting it stay that way.”
He glares for a long moment. “Where will Ollie go when you’re working?”
“He’ll stay with me until school starts. Work with me in the stable.”
“Is that safe?”
“I cleared it with Charlie and signed all the necessary paperwork.”
Dylan crosses his arms. “Tough life for a little kid.”
“No tougher than the one he came from.”
His expression shifts, and he squints into the distance before shaking his head.
“He’s welcome at the main house anytime,” he says finally. “My daughter, Izzy, is seven, and my wife is home with her during the summer. Kids need downtime, and it’s hard raising a child on your own.”
The offer tempts me more than I want to admit. I’d pay money I don’t have for a couple of hours alone, but the only shot in hell I have of keeping us at Silver Leaf is to keep a low profile.
“Thanks, but I don’t need your help.”
He looks me dead in the eye. “I don’t like you.”
“No shit.”
“But that’s not Ollie’s fault. If you need help, ask.”
“I’ve got everything under control.”
Dylan snorts. “How long have you had Ollie?”
“Almost a month.”
He responds with a smug hum. “Offer stands, even if you are an arrogant motherfucker.”
My fists curl where they’re hidden beneath my crossed arms. “You done?”
“I’m done—until Daisy says otherwise.”
He stalks away, and I watch his back until he’s just a silhouette on the horizon and then a lost shadow in the predawn light.
By the time he’s gone, my irritation is little more than the buzz of a fly, and I’m left contemplating the fields and vineyards of Silver Leaf.
Purple mountains beyond them. Thick woodlands and a wide river and the whole world past that.
That’s where I belong. On the road. Not stuck in a six-hundred-square-foot cabin, working for a woman I love and can’t have, with less than a hundred bucks in my bank account and the future of a broken little boy in my hands.