Page 39 of Swift and Saddled

Emmy thought about that for a second. “You should call him and tell him you’re staying here with us.”

Cam looked confused. “Why?”

“Because that’s what he wanted to happen.” Emmy shrugged. “Teddy and I went to the Big House first. He knew we were down here and that we would ask you to stay. He’s probably already got Riley excited about s’mores or something.”

“That man!” Cam shook her head.

“He worries that you work too much,” Emmy said. “And you do. So, all in favor of Cam staying, say aye.”

Teddy’s, Emmy’s, and my hands all shot up and we said “Aye” simultaneously. Cam rolled her eyes, but she was smiling as she pulled out her phone and dialed someone—Amos, I assumed. She put it on speaker.

“Hey,” she said. “Are you okay if I stay down here for a bit?”

“Stay down there all night,” Amos said cheerfully. “I’ve got you covered. Riley and I are doing s’mores.”

“S’mores!” a child’s voice said on the other end of the phone.

“Riley, be good for Papa, okay?”

“I’m always good at Papa’s,” Riley said matter-of-factly.

“Okay,” Cam said. “Have fun, Sunshine. I love you.”

“Love you, Mama.”

“Thank you, Amos,” Cam said.

“Have fun tonight, ladies,” Amos responded—assuming correctly that he was on speaker. “Love you.”

Teddy, Emmy, and Cam all responded “Love you” before hanging up the phone. It was weird, being around all of these people who seemed genuinely to like and care for one another.

“Now that that’s settled,” Teddy said as she twisted the cap off the bottle of rosé, “girls’ night can officially begin.”

Emmy grabbed a speaker out of Teddy’s bag and connected it to her phone. “How does everyone feel about a little Taylor Swift this evening?” Both Teddy and Cam nodded enthusiastically. “Ada?” she said, waiting for me to answer.

“Sure,” I said. In my “not like other girls” phase, I’d actively disliked Taylor Swift. Now I was just indifferent. After telling people that I didn’t like her for so long, I never really got into her music after that point in my life had passed.

Emmy looked at me for a second before she said, “Even if you don’t like her now, you will before you leave Rebel Blue.”

“We’ll crush that internalized misogyny, no problem,” Teddy added, and I couldn’t help but laugh, even though I kind of hated that both of them seemed able to read me like a book. “Show us what you’re doing to those curtains.” Teddy gestured to the large pieces of linen that I had laid out.

“Come see,” I said. “But leave the drinks over here.” All three of them dutifully set down their Solo cups and followed me to the middle of the room. I knelt, grabbed a purple wildflower out of my box, and positioned it on the bottom of the curtain. “I’m not sure if this is going to work, but we’ll see.” I put a piece of parchment paper over the flower and pressed it flat, then grabbed a mallet.

“I love hitting things,” Teddy said, rubbing her palms together. “This is going to be great.”

I hammered the parchment paper a few times, making sure I hit every point on the flower. “So ideally,” I started, “when I pull this parchment paper away, the flower shouldstick to it, and”—I peeled the parchment paper off the curtain—“the pigment from the flower should stay behind.”

An abstract image of the purple wildflower was indeed left behind. Emmy let out a delighted squeal. “This is so cool,” she said. “How did you come up with it?”

“There’s a lot of things swirling around up here,” I said, gesturing to my head. “And I’ve just been trying to think of ways to bring Rebel Blue Ranch inside this house in different ways.”

“I really love that. My dad is going to love it.” Emmy smiled thoughtfully down at the curtain. “You can say no, but do you think we could do some roses on a few of them?”

“Are there roses at Rebel Blue?” I asked.

“Yeah, my mom’s rosebushes are in front of the Big House. I think it would be cool if she was a part of this too.” Oh.Oh.When I first arrived, I’d spent a lot of time looking at the pictures in the Ryders’ living room. After Emmy was born, there were only a few with the woman that I figured was their mom. I correctly assumed that she’d passed away sometime around then.

“Yes, of course. I love that idea,” I said genuinely. Emmy smiled at me, and even though she and Wes didn’t look as much alike as she and Gus did, I could see their similarities.

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