Page 75 of Nanny for the Single Dad Cowboy
I’ve tried sitting, reading, and cleaning the kitchen counter three times, but nothing is helping. Every few seconds, my gaze drifts to the road that snakes up to the ranch, hoping for headlights, or dust rising in the distance. But there’s nothing. Just the stretch of gravel, endless and empty.
“Tessa?” Daisy calls out softly behind me.
She’s been watching me, eyes too wide, too old for her age. She knows something’s wrong. I’ve fed her the gentlest version of the truth—that her dad had to “take care of something important”—but kids know when adults are lying. Especially kids like her.
I turn and smile anyway, the kind of smile that trembles before it reaches my eyes. “Hey, Bug. You okay?”
She nods, then shakes her head halfway through. “I’m scared.”
My chest tightens. “I know, baby. Me too.”
I crouch to her level, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “But your daddy’s the strongest man I’ve ever met. You know that, right? He’s coming back. He always comes back.”
She looks down at her hands, fiddling with the hem of her T-shirt. “What if he doesn’t?”
The words hit harder than I expect. For a heartbeat, I can’t breathe. Then I pull her close, wrapping her in my arms, holding her tight enough for both of us. “He will,” I whisper into her hair. “Because he has you. And he has me. He’s got every reason in the world to come home.”
She nods against my shoulder, small and warm, and I force my breathing to match hers—slow, steady, anchored.
When she finally pulls back, her voice is small again. “Can we watch a movie?”
“Sure,” I say quickly, grateful for the distraction. “Which one?”
She picks Frozen 2—again—and I don’t argue. We curl up on the couch, Daisy leaning into me, her fingers tracing circles on my arm as the movie plays. I try to focus, but my mind keeps slipping away to the last time I saw Jace’s face, the way his jaw clenched when he promised he’d be back before sunrise.
The memory burns through me, leaving me hollow and restless. Every second he’s gone stretches like a rubber band about to snap.
Daisy starts humming along to a song. I watch her lips move, small and brave, and it hits me again how much she trusts me, how much she’s depending on me to keep her world from falling apart while her father fights to keep us safe.
I smooth her hair, kiss the top of her head, and whisper to myself, “Please, Jace. Come home.”
The credits roll, soft music filling the silence between us. Daisy’s head is still on my lap, her eyelids drooping, fingers clutching the edge of the blanket. I think she’s fallen asleep until her small voice breaks the quiet.
“Tessa?”
I hum, brushing a thumb over her hair. “Yeah, sweetheart?”
She hesitates. I can feel it—the way her body stiffens slightly, the way her fingers twist the fabric. “Can I ask you something?”
“Of course.”
Her voice is barely a whisper. “If Daddy comes back… will you still stay?”
The question catches me off guard. My hand stills mid-stroke. “Stay?”
She nods, eyes glassy in the dim light. “You’re my favorite person,” she says simply. “Even more than Aunt Ella. You make the house feel nice, and you make Daddy smile again. I don’t want you to go away.”
My throat tightens. I blink hard, once, twice. “Oh, Daisy…”
She shifts, sitting up, looking me dead in the eye with that raw, unfiltered honesty that only kids have. “I told you before, on the field trip, remember? I said I wanted you to be my mom.”
I nod slowly, remembering the moment when she crept into my tent, scared to sleep with her friends.
“I remember,” I say softly.
“I know you said you weren’t sure then,” she continues, voice trembling just enough to break me. “But you love Daddy, right? And he loves you. So maybe… maybe now you can say yes?”
Her words hit me like sunlight after a storm. I’m not ready for the warmth, the hope, the fragile joy that starts rising in my chest.
