Page 23 of Home Hearts Hooves

“Yes, Poppy is your daughter.”

Her words are like an echo in an empty cave, vibrating through me as the air grows cold.

“Why?”

“I didn’t want to hold you back, Pres.”

“That wasn’t your decision to make.”

She weeps, clutching her hands in her lap.

“We wanted a different future.”

“I wanted you.”

“You left.”

“You broke my heart,” I say standing and pacing the room. It’s far smaller than I remember. I cross back and forth a few times, trying to think of what I would have done if she had told me. Would I have been able to convince her to still come with me? To have a few months of travel before returning to Bellerelle to have the baby and start our life, or would I have delayed, possibly forever my plans to see the world and marry her?

“It broke mine too, to see you go,” she sobs.

I stop in front of the small fireplace on the far wall. It’s lined with photos and I pick up one of Isabel and Poppy sitting on a picnic rug under an orange tree, smiling and happy, and a calm washes over me.

“Can I meet her?” I ask but before she can reply Poppy announces herself.

“Hi Preston,” she says from the doorway, and Isabel quickly wipes her eyes and forces a smile.

My throat goes dry and my heart is stampeding as I step toward Poppy. I’m not really sure what I should do here. Can I hug her? I feel like I want to, but she doesn’t know me, not really. What the fuck do I do?

“Hi Poppy,” I reply kneeling in front of her, which I suddenly think was a stupid idea because she’s now more than a head taller than me; but she smiles and steps closer, lifting her hand out for me to shake.

“I’m glad it was you,” she says as I grip her tiny warm hand in mine. It’s impossibly soft, and I’m worried I’m squeezing too hard, but she’s still smiling down at me, those big eyes, wide and welcoming, just like her mother’s always were.

“Me too.”

Chapter nine

DEAN

THE TALE OF THE INVISIBLE VET

Afterournightinthe barn a week ago, Preston ran away faster than a bull bolting out of the gate at the Spring Rodeo and hasn’t been seen since. Oh, Preston’s been to the ranch. I just haven’t seen him. He’s been to check on the new calf, and Daisy, and he visits to help with Loki every other day, but he comes when I’m milking or out feeding and watering the cattle. I caught sight of the back of his van pulling away from the house yesterday, but that’s the closest I’ve come since that incredible night.

“We’ve got cabins six and seven checking in soon,” Nial calls while jogging up to my side.

“Was just headed there to make sure everything is set up,” I say, and he frowns. “What?”

He checks his watch. “You said you were headed that way over twenty minutes ago. What happened? Did Chewie get out again?”

It would be easy to blame the lama. Easier than trying to explain to my brother that I have been walking at a snail’s pace, replaying the incredible blowjob the local vet gave me in the mini barn, trying to figure out like a teenager with a crush why he hasn’t called.

“No, umm, just got held up.”

“You alright?” he asks, nudging my side as we stroll along the rock path. The Fletchers leveled some land of theirs that backs onto our south paddocks last year and had to break through a huge amount of rock mixed with quartz, so we bought a few trucks full and spread it along the paths. We planted dogwood trees along the border, too, to create a canopy over the pathways and help create privacy for the guests. Most are Kousa dogwoods, but at the entrance to each cabin, we planted white flowering dogwoods. By this time next year, they should be a real sight to see. They were a big purchase, established trees always are, but Nial moved a few things around so that we could afford as many aspossibletall enough to provide shade to visiting guests right away. In the middle of the day, like this, when the sun is right overhead, it streams through the branches in soft lines and makes the veins and speckles of quartz in the gravel shine like glitter.

“Yeah, I’m alright.”

“You sure? ‘Cause you’ve been super weird since the storm.”

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