Page 38 of Home Hearts Hooves

“Oh yeah, I remember. I went up two sizes senior year.” Isabel laughs, and I glance at Poppy. She was pregnant with Poppy at the end of senior year, so that might have had to do with some of it, but I don’t say that. It’s nice that my mom is getting some time to get to know her grandchild. She’d be welcome here if she could bring herself to step through the door now that Dad’s gone, but I know she won’t.

“Can we stop at the ranch after Grandma’s?” Poppy asks, and I try not to take it personally that she already calls my mother grandma and I’m still Preston. I know she had a dad for a few years there before the piece of shit ran away from the best little girl in the world. Maybe she is worried I won’t stick around, too. But I am not going anywhere. I am in this for the rest of her life. I’ll be at every school recital, every birthday, Christmas, and all the other holidays, too, and then I’ll be at her graduation, I’ll drive her to college, or the airport if she decides to travel like I did, I’ll be there. I missed the first ten years of her existence; I will never miss another day.

“I’ll be checking on the new calves most afternoons for the next week on top of helping Atlas with Loki. She’s always welcome. You both are,” I say, and Isabel smiles.

“We’ll see,” she replies, and I keep the smile on my face for Poppy’s sake, but I really don’t see why she has ‘to see’ anything about it. Why can’t she just agree and be happy for me to be getting to spend time with the daughter she hid from me?

“I find it hard enough pulling this one out of the cuddle cove when they’re full-grown or those fluffy highlands, throw in babies and I’ll never get her out. How are the Beakers?”

Okay, so maybe it’s not about me, but still would it kill her to just say sure, great idea, Preston. You’re picking up on this whole dad stuff really well?

“The Beakers are good. They’ve been testing out this new app for tracking the calving, and so far, it’s only been off a day here and there. I can log in from the clinic, too, and keep track of the calves, and any medications we’ve given to the heifers. There was one with Milk fever we were treating, and we’ll have a few more births before Spring is through.” While a lot of other dairy farms like to plan their calving for the winter months, the Beakers aren’t just a dairy farm. They have horses and chickens and lots of other animals they keep, so they chose to inseminate so they’d get most of the birthing through early spring instead.

“They have a mini goat now, too,” Poppy exclaims, and her mother rolls her eyes a little knowing what’s coming next. “If I can’t have a cow for my birthday, I want a goat. A mini one like Mr. Beaker’s.”

“You are not getting a cow or a goat for your birthday.”

“But that’s all I want. You said when I was old enough to look after it, I could have a pet.”

“I was thinking more like a puppy.”

“Puppies are boring.”

I snort before I can stop myself. “Are they really? Should I go in and tell Rufus and Boxer that?” The two sheepdog puppies have been adopted by the Royals, one of the new families that bought out a foreclosure beside the Beaker Brothers Ranch a few months back. They want to fix up some border fences before they bring the puppies home, so Poppy has been playing with them after her homework every afternoon.

“Okay, they’re not boring, but cows are so much better. The mini highlands are just so cute. Mom, please, can I have one?”

“You know your grandparents don’t want livestock on the farm. Where would we keep it?”

“I could keep it in my room.”

“That is still on the farm.”

“It’s not fair. Why do we have to live with grandma and grandpa, anyway? If we had our own house, we could have as many animals as we want.” I feel like maybe I should say something. Maybe try to persuade Poppy that her mother knows best, but how would I even do that? It’s funny that only a few minutes ago I was like just let me decide on something and here I am now avoiding all eye contact so I don’t get drawn into the conversation because really, who am I to say she can or can’t have a cow. Honestly, I’d probably cave in and agree to buy her one. To be safe, I busy myself with papers on the counter, letting Isabel handle it.

“You love living with grandma and grandpa.”

“I’d love a cow more.”

“Okay, I think it’s time we go. Pres, thanks again for today.”

“No problem. I love having Poppy here. I’ll be spending a good couple of hours over at the ranch on the weekend. If Poppy is free, I’d love to take her to a cuddle session,” I say, and Poppy’s eyes light up.

“If there are no outbursts like the one I just saw, then I don’t see why not,” she replies, and Poppy hugs her side.

“Thank you, Mom. I’ll be good, I swear.”

They leave, and I finish up a few things before heading over to the ranch.

***

“I don’t see the new mini goat,” I say, stepping into the cuddle cove where Connor is playing with a few of the mini highlands and the calves. “I thought for sure you’d have him set up with these guys, or did you put him with the other goats?”

“He’s with Dean,” Connor says gruffly.

“What’s wrong?”

“Little fucker won’t let anyone else hold him. I’ve wanted a mini goat for as long as I can remember, and the thing can’t stand me.”

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