Chapter 14
I stared too—at both of them—a thought occurring to me.
Did he still have feelings for her?
I’d seen how he looked at her back in the day. The memory was engraved on my angsty teenage heart. I’d been so jealous of Lily, even though she’d been dating my brother, because I’d noticed it—how James looked at her.
James and Lily, just like in Harry Potter. Every time Ryan and Lily had broken up—a semi-regular occurrence—I’d wondered when she’d realize just how great James was.
“Hi, Lily,” James said softly.
“Who’s that, Mommy?” Mia asked, staring at James with the unabashed curiosity only a little kid could get away with.
And what would Lily respond?
That’s the man who kissed me and almost ruined my relationship with your dad forever, sweetie pie!
How had she reacted to the kiss? James didn’t seem like the type to force himself on someone. I’d watched her closely enough in our younger years, but I’d never been sure how she’d seen James.
His gaze moved to Mia. How must it feel for him to see Ryan and Lily’s little girl—and their little boy on the way?
“That’s James,” Lily said, her eyes still on him.
All of us were on the verge of choking on the air. Except Mia. She had no idea what was going on.
How I envied her.
“Let’s go, Mommy,” Mia said, pulling her by the hand.
Lily didn’t move.
James’s brow knit. “I can leave.”
“No,” Lily blurted, stopping him mid-turn.
His eyes searched her face.
“It’s okay,” she said softly, letting Mia pull her toward the first stall.
Mia reached the door and went up on her tiptoes, like the extra inch of height would allow her to see. “Pick me up, Mommy.”
I moved to get Mia, but James was ahead of me.
“Thank you,” Lily said with relief as he lifted Mia to see through the bars.
“She’s pretty, huh, Mommy? And she has a mark on her head, just like you!”
I looked at my sister-in-law, who had a zit above her left eyebrow. Not quite the same as the shock of white hair on the mare, but oh, well.
Lily shot me an amused grimace. “Yep. We’re twins. Okay, baby, I’ve got to go now. Be good for Aunt Sadie. I’ll see you tonight.”
Mia acknowledged her mom’s kiss on the cheek with a vague nod, watching the mare intently.
“Thank you again,” Lily said, grabbing my hand for a brief squeeze as she passed.
I smiled. “Anytime.”
She glanced back at the three of us one last time before hurrying out of sight to her car.
James watched her go.
And I watched him, his expression unreadable as he held Mia like she weighed nothing.
She was petite, but she was still four.
“I wanna see that one,” Mia said, pointing to the next stall like a dictator.
“Mimi,” I said, hurrying over, “why don’t you let me hold you? And remember to say please.” I put out my hands to take her, but she retreated into James.
I looked at him, my brows raised. Mia didn’t turn Aunt Sadie down for anyone. I was her favorite.
He didn’t seem to know what to make of Mia’s behavior, either; he looked half-surprised, half-amused.
“He’s stronger than you,” Mia said. She put a hand on his arm between his biceps and shoulder. “You’re very strong, Mr. James. Even stronger than Daddy.”
“O-kay,” I said, laughing uncomfortably. Had someone coached this child into saying all the most awkward things possible? “Come here, missy. Let’s get some treats for the horses.”
Her dedication to James wasn’t proof against this offer, and she let me take her.
She was small for her age, but way too smart for her own good—or anyone else’s. She had my entire family wrapped around her dainty little pinky, with its chipped hot-pink nail polish.
“Come on, Mr. James,” she said, motioning for him to follow us to the tack room.
James looked a question at me, like he wasn’t sure how binding the orders of a four-year-old were.
“Come on,” she repeated impatiently.
James seemed to recognize her authority and followed us.
“Where’d Archer go?” I asked.
“To check on one of the horses in the pasture. He’s happy with the suggestion, though, and said he’ll update the website and flyers tonight.”
We stepped into the tack room, and Mia wriggled down to the floor.
I grabbed a few pellets from a bag and gave them to Mia, who grasped them with awkward, claw-like fingers and held them against her chest as insurance.
I started to close the bag, but Mia corrected my bad manners for not giving James any.
The little cocked brow he sent me—a silent and teasing echo of Mia’s condemnation—made my heart skip strangely, just like it did anytime James’s playfulness broke through the cloud cover of his stoicism.
I obediently gave him a couple of pellets, and we returned to the stalls.
Mia rejected my attempt to pick her up. “Mr. James is taller. And stronger.”
I couldn’t argue with facts, but I shot him an apologetic look.
He smiled as he picked her up.
If the cocked eyebrow had been a peek of blue sky through clouds, the smile was a flash of sun. It reminded me of the photo of Ryan and him at their graduation.
Stall by stall, James and Mia treated the horses to pellets while he coached her through keeping her hand flat like a pancake.
After giving away her final pellet, she wiped the hay-speckled horse slobber from her hand onto James’s shirt.
“Mia Jane Stevenson,” I cried in horror.
She giggled mischievously but looked at James to see his reaction.
He narrowed his eyes at her, then wiped his own hand on her back.
She arched it, her giggling turning immediately to terror.
She looked at James as though her good opinion of him was lost forever. The sheer look of betrayal had me covering a snorting laugh.
James held up his hand, which was still covered in horse slobber—he’d only pretended to wipe it on her—then he rubbed it on his shirt in the same place she’d wiped hers.
The effect on Mia was utter delight.
My own smile faded slightly as I considered what Ryan would think of his daughter laughing with the man he hated most in the world. It was such a shame. Had things gone differently, James could’ve been a de facto uncle to Mia—one she clearly would have adored.
“All right, Mimi,” I said. “We should get going.”
“Nooo,” she cried, grasping onto James like a barnacle. She tucked her head under his jaw.
Ryan would absolutely die.
James looked torn between discomfort and the urge to lean into the protective posture.
I went over to Mia. “We fed the horses like you wanted. Now we can go to my apartment.”
“You didn’t feed the horsies,” she pointed out.
I smiled at this desperation disguised as thoughtfulness. “Thanks for looking out for me, Mimi, but I feed them a couple of times a week.”
She slipped out of James’s arms. “You didn’t even pet one yet! James can hold you up.” She looked up at him, her head tilting consideringly until her brow furrowed. “Maybe you’re not that strong.”
Laughter burst from our mouths at the same time.
Amazing how a child could so innocently insult two people at once.
“I’m actually tall enough to see through the bars on my own,” I said. “See?” I demonstrated, holding out my hand to Miss Mahogany. “Let’s go to my apartment, and we’ll stop by the bakery for a little treat, okay?”
She let out a sigh worthy of the stage, then trudged toward the exit like she was heading for the gallows.
James watched her with his mouth quirked at one edge.
“Thanks for humoring her,” I said as we followed behind her.
“Is there another option?” he asked.
“No. Unless you’re prepared for the most heart-wrenching lip tremble of your life.”
He shook his head.
“Me neither. She’s a spoiled little thing.”
When we reached the end of the stalls, Mia suddenly took off running.
“Look!” she cried out. “An orange leaf!”
I shot a look at James, and his eyes twinkled appreciatively.
“Can’t blame a girl for trying,” he said.
I walked over to where Mia was crouched under a tree. She was holding a leaf that was mid-color change from green to orange.
“Pretty,” I said.
Holding the stem in her fingers, she twirled it, then looked up to see where it had come from.
The tree was mostly green, but a couple of its branches had started shifting to orange.
“Can we find more pretty ones?” Mia asked. “I want to make a bouquet! For Mommy.”
I hesitated. I’d learned over the years that, if Mia suggested an activity that didn’t involve screens, it was in both of our interests to pursue it. Leaf-finding was a perfect way to pass some time—we still had a few hours, and my apartment was…small, even for someone Mia’s size.
“Sure,” I said. “Let’s go on a leaf hunt for a few minutes.”
“Yay!” She jumped up. “Come on, Mr. James!”
I opened my mouth wordlessly. In my mind, our leaf-hunting expedition had not included him.
“Mr. James has other things to do, Mimi.”
“Like what?” She asked it as though the thought of an adult having anything to do but cater to her whims was inconceivable.
I looked to James for help.
He clearly hadn’t expected to be put on the spot, because he opened his mouth wordlessly.
“Mommy says there are bears and mooses in the woods,” Mia said. “Do you have a gun, Mr. James?”
My eyes widened. This girl would be the death of me. “James works in the woods, Mia. I’m sure he knows how to handle wildlife without using a gun.”
“You work in the woods?” The awe in her voice was palpable.
“I do,” James confirmed. “In fact, I also sleep in them.”
Mia’s eyes ballooned. “Wow. You’re a real tough kid, Mr. James.”
He laughed.
She turned to me. “Have you ever slept in the woods?”
“Unfortunately, no,” I admitted. I was not stacking up well against James. How could my wonky pastries compete with a man who slept amongst bears and moose?
Compared to me, James was Indiana Jones.
“Why not?” Mia asked as though this was an oversight of massive proportions.
I shrugged. “It sounds really cool, but I don’t know if I’m brave enough.”
“Maybe he could teach us,” she said. “Oh! I know! We can have a sleepover in the woods!” She was so taken with the brilliancy of her idea that I stumbled over a response.
“Do you have a sleeping bag, Mr. James?” she asked. “I do—it has Moana on it, but you’re too big for it. And Aunt Sadie is too. Do you have an extra one for her? You could share, except you’re really big.”
My face was on fire, and I didn’t dare look at James.
Mia apparently didn’t require a response. She was on the woodsy sleepover train, and it stopped for no man.
“We can make s’mores!” she said, jumping at the thought. “With extra marshmallows! Aunt Sadie loves marshmallows.”
James’s gaze flitted to me for verification.
“It’s true,” I admitted meekly.
“Can we, Aunt Sadie?” Mia grabbed my hand. “Can we? Can we?” She tugged on my fingers pleadingly.
For a moment, I let myself picture what it would be like to entertain her request. “Hey, Ryan. Is it cool if I take your daughter into the woods and we have a sleepover with James? She can bring her Moana sleeping bag, and I’ll share one with James.”
I barely suppressed a shudder. Even without the sleepover, I cringed at the thought of what tales she’d be taking home today.
“I’m sorry, sweetie,” I said, “but we can’t.”
“Why not?” she whined.
Again, I stumbled over an explanation that would satisfy her four-year-old brain.
To my surprise, James stepped in. “Your parents should take you camping in the woods, Mia, because you’ll never forget your first time.”
She stopped tugging on my hand and considered this with a deep, pensive frown. “Really?”
James nodded. “Thanks for inviting me, though. I hope you and Sadie find lots of pretty leaves. I have to go see my mom now.”
“Okay,” she said, voice full of resigned disappointment. “Oh! Another orange leaf!”
As she ran to her next treasure, I shot James a harried but grateful look, and he gave me a small smile, then strode away.
Mia pulled me down to inspect three potential additions to the leaf bouquet, but I stole a glance at James’s retreating figure, wondering what was going through his mind.
After we’d acquired a dozen leaves of varying shades and colors, Mia finally agreed to make our way home.
We spent almost an hour at the bakery. Morgan had to be looped in on the tradition of offering Mia our discarded pastries, but once she was, she was surprisingly sweet to her.
Afterward, we went up to my apartment and spent some time playing princess—an activity that consisted of me bringing every blanket, pillow, necklace, and headband in my possession to Mia on my small couch—then colored in the new Disney coloring book I’d bought her a few days ago.
Mia was less about staying in the lines and more about crayon-graffiti-ing every page as quickly as possible.
If I made any money from my ventures at the maple farm, it would probably be just enough to fund Mia’s coloring book habits.
I tensed when a knock on the door signaled the arrival of Ryan and Lily. Neither of them brought up James, though, and by some miracle, neither did Mia.
It made me wonder whether maybe Lily hadn’t mentioned the run-in to Ryan.
I had no doubt it would come up at some point thanks to Mia, but I was glad to save that bridge-crossing for later.