Page 98 of Lost Then Found
Then she steps toward the stove, eyes widening when she sees what’s simmering. “Wait…did you make dinner? You didn’t have to do that.”
I shrug, reaching for a bowl and filling it up before handing it to her. “You seemed tired today. Figured you could use a break.”
She stares at the food, then at me, her lips parting like she doesn’t know what to do with this. It’s such a small thing, cooking dinner, but I can see it in her face—she’s not used to anyone taking something off her plate.
Her fingers tighten around the bowl. “Chicken and dumplings.My favorite.”
“I know.”
Hudson, already halfway through his own bowl, looks up. “Hey, I helped.”
I ruffle his hair. “Did his reading too. Homework’s done.”
Lark’s head jerks toward Hudson like she just heard something impossible. She blinks, looking from him to me, lips parting in surprise. Like the thought of her house running without her hadn’t even crossed her mind.
I clear my throat. “I don’t mind doing this more often. Maybe a couple times a week if you’re okay with it.”
Her eyes flick to mine, cautious. “Boone, I can’t ask you to do that. You’ve got a whole ranch to run.”
“I’ve also got a kid now,” I say simply. “Sometimes the ranch can wait. It won’t fall apart without me. Been running just fine for twelve years.”
She doesn’t argue, but I can see the wheels turning.
I tilt my head at her. “Gives you a chance to run. Read. Do whatever you want.”
Hudson, still chewing, pipes up like it’s just a fact. “Yeah, Dad says people should do nice things for you more.”
Everything stops.
The second the word leaves his mouth, Lark freezes, her face going pink. My whole body locks up, heartbeat slamming against my ribs. Hudson, suddenly realizing what he just said, stares hard at his bowl, shoving another bite in his mouth like maybe we won’t notice.
But I do.
I kneel down beside his chair, resting a hand on his shoulder. “Hey, bud,” I say, voice steady. “You know, I like that you called me that.”
Hudson glances up at me. “You…you really don’t mind?”
I shake my head, my chest going tight in a way I don’t try to fight. “No, not at all. I think it’s the best thing I’ve been called in my life.”
Hudson watches me for a second longer, like he’s making sure I mean it. Then, softer, “Do cowboys hug?”
I bark out a laugh and Lark does too, shaking her head.
“Hell yeah, we do,” I say, grabbing him and pulling him in. “Best damn hugs around.”
Hudson doesn’t hesitate—he throws his arms around my neck, holding on tight. I squeeze him just as hard, my throat thick, my heart full in a way I didn’t even realize was missing until now.
I glance over at Lark. She’s standing by the counter, her bowl forgotten, her arms crossed like she’s holding herself together. Her eyes are glassy, and before she can stop herself, she swipes a quick tear away with the heel of her hand.
My chest pulls tight.
I turn back to Hudson, raising my brows. “You know what else cowboys are the best at?”
He pauses mid-bite. “What?”
I glance at Lark as I say it. “Dancing.”
Her eyes go big. “Oh. No, no, no.”
