Beau
thirty-three
Daisy is waiting when I pull my truck around to the barn house two days later. She leaps to her feet, leaving her new porch swing rocking, and moves to the rail with her arms wrapped around her body.
I shift the truck into park, but when Ollie doesn’t remove his seat belt right away, I sit with him in the silence.
“You feeling okay, buddy?”
He looks at his lap and shrugs. “I’m fine.”
He’s been quiet the entire drive back from his appointment with Amy, and the psychologist said he barely spoke in their session.
It gives me another reason to be pissed at my father, as if I needed it.
It’s one thing to turn up out of nowhere and upend my life.
It hurts enough as a grown man, replaying what he said, fighting the fury he provokes in me, the old feelings of worthlessness and grief.
I hate that Ollie might be feeling the same way too.
“Do you have any questions after your session with Amy?” I ask.
He shakes his head.
“You can talk to me. You know that, right?”
He replies with a silent nod.
I sigh. “Okay. Let’s go inside. Maybe Daisy has some of that chocolate you like. What do you think?”
He shrugs again.
I slide out of the truck and round the hood, then help Ollie to the ground. He starts toward the house, and I swipe up his hat from inside the cab.
“Hey, buddy. You forgot this.”
Ollie gives it a dismissive glance and keeps walking.
Daisy’s gnawing her bottom lip as we approach, and her brow is lined with deep furrows. “Hey, cowboy,” she says. “How are you?”
“Fine,” he says.
Daisy looks at me quickly, then away again just as fast. “Well, that’s good to hear. Do you want to come in and have something to eat? Maybe sketch a little?”
Ollie hangs his head and scuffs the toes of his boots. “Sure.”
Daisy’s expression is loaded with unspoken questions I don’t know how to answer.
“We were just wondering if you have any chocolate,” I say instead. “You know, the kind with the wafers?”
“Sure do.” Daisy sets a hand on Ollie’s head. “And guess who’s here to see you?”
Ollie blanches a little, and my heart skips. Is he frightened?
“Who?” he asks.
“Izzy,” Daisy replies. “She’s inside making peanut butter and jelly sandwiches. Why don’t you go through to the kitchen and help yourself to whatever you like? Your uncle and I will be right here.”
“Oh,” Ollie says with relief. “Okay.”
“I’m worried,” Daisy says as soon as Ollie disappears inside. “It’s been two days and he’s still not himself.”
I remove my hat and drop onto the porch swing. “I’m worried too.”
She sits beside me and takes my hand. “What can I do?”
“Nothing. I’ve talked to a lawyer about legalizing the guardianship arrangements, and in the meantime, the best thing I can do for Ollie is assure him that I’m not about to disappear.
I can’t let him worry that my dad or his mom could show up unannounced and take him away.
If they do challenge me for guardianship, he needs to know I’ll be in his life no matter what. ”
“That makes sense.” Daisy presses herself against me, slipping her arm through mine, finding my fingers and threading hers into them.
I stare through the porch boards underneath my boots, unable to do anything but hold on.
I’m reeling from my father’s visit, and I was on shaky ground before that.
I wish I hadn’t heard Daisy’s breakfast conversation with Charlie, but I’m also grateful I did.
It makes things so much harder—and that much clearer.
“The lawyer wants confirmation of my employment status,” I say, a lump rising in my throat.
“You have a job here,” she says. “You’re our stable manager.”
I give her a disbelieving look. “Daisy—”
“What? I just need to iron out a few details. I’ll have a contract for you in a couple of days.”
I disentangle my hand from hers and then slip my arm free too.
“The money I gave my dad,” I say quickly to try to minimize the shame. “It was the money I was saving to pay you back for Ollie’s clothes. It’ll take me a while to recoup the costs, but I’ll get it to you eventually. I promise.”
Her smile is unsure. “I’d forgotten all about that.”
“Yeah, well. I haven’t. And I’ll pay you back.”
“I know,” she says quietly.
I set my elbows on my thighs, push my hands into my hair, and try to order my thoughts. I don’t know what to do next. I don’t know what I’m doing at all, except that it has to be the right thing for Ollie.
“Your family doesn’t want me here,” I say, then cut her off when she tries to argue. “They don’t. They’re nice enough. Decent and polite because that’s the kind of people y’all are, but they don’t want me here. Charlie made that clear.”
“That was about me, not you,” she says. “Charlie’s mad because I’ve gone back on my word—”
“Because of me.” I sigh and take Daisy’s hands in mine.
“I’m not giving up, and I’m not letting you go, but I have to be smart.
I can’t prove myself a fit guardian for Ollie if I can’t hold a steady job, and if there’s even the slightest chance things will fall apart here, there’s too much at stake for me to risk it. You understand that, don’t you?”
She nods. “I do.”
“I need to do everything right if there’s a chance of convincing a judge to give me legal guardianship. You’ve met my dad. You know what the alternative could be, and I can’t let that happen. I’ll never forgive myself if I lose Ollie now.”
“I get it,” she says, hands tightening around mine. “But we can still make this work.”
I drink in her face, the line of her nose, the colors in her eyes, the full, soft lips I’ve kissed so many times. “I don’t know if I want to.”
She blinks, chin tucking like I’ve stunned her. “What do you mean?”
I take a deep breath. “I love you, and I don’t want to lose you, but I need to feel worth something. I need to make something of myself if I’m going to believe I’m good enough for you.”
“You are—”
“Darlin’. Stop. Look at where I come from.
Look at the man who raised me. I need to earn something to believe I deserve it, and I didn’t earn the job here.
If I stay, it’ll be because you convinced your family to do what you want them to do, not what they think is right for the ranch or the business.
I don’t want to stay here feeling like a charity case, like I don’t belong and I don’t deserve my paycheck.
But most importantly, I can’t raise a good man if I don’t feel like a good man myself. ”
Daisy stares past me into the distance, then refocuses on my face with lines around her mouth. “You’re going to take the job at Emberfield.”
“I think I have to,” I say. “I can’t tell you how good it felt to have a stranger offer me a chance like that. For the first time in my life, I’ve got something to offer.”
“Charlie was a stranger when she offered you this job,” Daisy argues. “You’ve already earned your place here.”
“Maybe I earned my place mucking out stalls,” I agree, “but that’s it.
And after what happened with my father showing up uninvited, giving your brothers a look at where I really come from?
The trouble I cause?” I laugh bitterly. “They’re going to be waiting for any good reason to set me out on my ass. ”
“That’s not true,” she says, voice cracking.
“Isn’t it?”
“No. I don’t work without you,” she says fiercely. “And you don’t work without me. There’s no way around that. Don’t pretend like there is.”
I gather her in my arms. “It’s not the end,” I tell her. “It’s just another detour.”
“Promise me you won’t make any decisions until I talk to Charlie again,” she demands, then scowls when I try to evade it. “Promise.”
“I’m calling Duke tomorrow,” I tell her. “That gives us twenty-four hours, but Darlin’, nothing short of a miracle is going to change things here.”
“Good thing I believe in miracles, then.”
I draw her to me and breathe in the scent of her hair, then spy Ollie and Izzy hovering near the doorway. They’re watching with expressions that feel too knowing for kids so young.
“Oh, hey, buddy.”
Daisy pushes off me, surprised to find we’re not alone.
“Hey, you two,” she says, swiping at her wet cheeks. “How long have you been there?”
Ollie shrugs. “Not long.”
“You want to join us on the swing?” Daisy offers, extending an arm to welcome them.
“No, thanks.” Ollie turns to Izzy, who gives him an encouraging nod. “Uncle Beau, can we go home now?”
“Sure. If that’s what you want.”
“It is.”
Daisy and I exchange a concerned glance before I push to my feet.
“All right,” I say. “Let’s get a move on.”
Ollie’s in the truck before I’ve even cleared the porch. Daisy walks down the drive with me, leaving Izzy climbing over the rails, then stops me before I open the driver’s side door.
“Don’t do anything rash,” she says. “There’s still a way we can make this work.”
I kiss her softly. “Twenty-four hours, Darlin’. I don’t want to start on the wrong foot with Duke, and the school year’s starting soon. If I need to make changes to Ollie’s enrollment, I can’t leave it to the last minute.”
I spare a glance for Ollie in the truck and feel the will to fight ebbing away.
“And I need to talk to him about what happens next. The kid’s already been through enough, and my dad showing up has made things worse.
I can’t pull the rug out from under him without as much time as possible to adjust. He’s a smart kid.
I know he can tell something’s not right, but I can’t put his worries to rest until I know exactly what’s happening. He needs more certainty now, not less.”
Daisy nods slowly. “You’re right. Of course you’re right. Ollie has to come first. I’ll talk to Charlie first thing in the morning.”
I kiss her forehead to say goodbye. I can’t stop her from trying, but I don’t know that staying here with her family’s forced blessing is good for anyone.
Families, even families as solid as this one, can break if the pressure is great enough.
And I don’t much like the idea of being a compromise to make Daisy happy.
Living the rest of my life as a stray everyone tolerates but can’t quite bring themselves to trust.
Ollie’s especially quiet on the short drive back to our cabin. Ryan and Marcus are picking up the slack in the stable so I can focus on Ollie, but I’m starting to think taking the afternoon off was a bad idea. Hard work would provide a distraction. Time with Pony Noir would give him comfort.
But if we have to say goodbye, some distance between Ollie and his favorite horse might be a good thing.
Ollie slips inside ahead of me as we enter the cabin that’s come to feel like home.
The furniture is plain, and the plates in the cupboards and the towels in the linen closet aren’t ours.
Not much will come with us when we go, but Ollie’s sketch pad and pencils are tumbled out across the kitchen table.
His boots have a certain place by the door, and every night, his hat hangs on the wall next to mine. It’s a safe space that’s all ours.
“Hey, buddy,” I say, making my way to the kitchen to check the fridge. “Are you hungry? It’s hot dogs for dinner tonight. You like those, right?”
“I guess.” Ollie glances around the place, like he’s looking for something, then frowns. “Can I go to my room?”
“Sure.” I close the fridge and cross to him to set my palm on his forehead. “Are you sick?”
He ducks his head out from under my hand. “No. Just tired.”
I check the time. It’s only six o’clock. “It’s a little early for bed, and I’d like you to eat something first.”
“I’m not hungry,” he mumbles.
I frown and think fast. It doesn’t surprise me that the kid is tired.
He’s been through an emotional wringer the last few days.
I’ve got reason to worry about his appetite failing again, but the way I encouraged him to eat before was to make him feel comfortable and not force the issue.
I can only hope that’s the way forward now.
“Okay, buddy. Let’s both have an early night, and in the morning, we’ll eat a big breakfast and make a fresh start. What do you say?”
He looks up at me with penetrating eyes. “What kind of fresh start?”
I blink at his question, then set a hand on his shoulder. “Is there something you want to ask me, Ollie?”
His eyes narrow briefly, then he shakes his head. “I just want to go to bed.”
“All right. Let’s get you in the shower.”
Ollie washes up and changes into his pajamas, and I make another offer of hot dogs with extra ketchup and mustard, but he’s not biting. I tuck him into his bed, and after a goodnight kiss on his forehead, he turns his back, curls into the covers, and presses his eyes as tight as they can go.
“Sleep well, little man,” I murmur from the doorway. “Things will be better in the morning.”
I pull the door almost closed and stare into the kitchen, trying to rally enough energy to make myself something to eat, but I can’t be bothered. I shower, I get into bed, and I close my eyes, hoping that tomorrow will deliver the answers we need.