Page 117 of Wishing Hearts

“Me and Janey ignored him, though,” she goes on imperiously. “And the tour guide let us position the telescope ourselves, which was so cool. He said it was obvious we knew what we were doing, which is true. We’ve had lots of practice.”

Because, in a turn of events no one saw coming, Winnie and her “difficult” classmate Janey became fast friends when they bonded over stars. Janey comes over often now, and she and Winnie spend a lot of time up in the tree fort, making use of the telescope Sam and I bought Winnie for her birthday last year.

The not-so-little-anymore girl is still going strong on her plans to become an astronomer.

“You had fun, then?” Sam asks. We didn’t get a chance to talk much about the school field trip after Winnie arrived home last night. She was too tired, and then, this morning, she spent our entire drive over here with her face stuck in her tablet. Now, though, she can’t stop talking about it.

“It was the best,” she says, skipping once. “We found Andromeda, Cassiopeia, Cygnus, Auriga…”

Winnie keeps listing constellations as my eyes snag on the sign for Country Cones, Plum Valley’s one ice cream shop. I stop, and Sam notices first, coming up beside me.

“Wanna go inside?” he asks, like it’s even a question.

“Winnie, want ice cream?” I call out.

She stops, pivots on her heel, and rushes back over. “Uh, yeah.”

Sam snorts and grabs the door, holding it open as Winnie and I pass through. A bell jingles overhead, and the kid at the counter looks up from his phone.

“Welcome to Country Cones,” he says dutifully, sounding bored. “Home of the best dang ice cream in all of Plum Valley. Or somethin’ like that.”

I huff a laugh as Winnie steps up to the counter, looking at the ice cream choices. The shop is empty apart from us, and a fan whirs overhead.

“What’ll you have, li’l miss?” Sam asks our daughter, reaching like he’s about to ruffle her hair but pulling his hand back at the last moment. He shoots me a bewildered look that manages to convey his relief. The last time Sam messed with Winnie’s hair, she about bit his arm off.

“Um,” she says, hemming and hawing before finally deciding on a flavor. “Peanut butter cup.”

“Cup or cone?” the bored teen behind the counter asks.

“Cone, thanks.”

The employee scoops up Winnie’s order, and she takes it over to a booth in front of the window as Sam asks for a cup of cherry chocolate. I get vanilla with sprinkles.

As Winnie gets lost in her phone, Sam knocks his foot into mine. We’re sharing one side of the booth.

“How’re you doin’, husband?” he asks quietly, using his new favorite nickname for me. It still sends a shiver down my spine every time I hear it.

Unsurprisingly, we got married under the stars on a cloudless night. Winnie was our flower girl, and to this day, I get choked up every time I remember the ceremony. It was beautiful, Sam even more so.

That was over a year ago.

I give him a responding smile as I scoop up a spoonful of my ice cream. It’s perfectly sweet, and the sprinkles add just the right bite. “I’m good,” I tell him honestly after thinking over the question.

“You don’t regret comin’?” he checks.

At first, I wasn’t sure I wanted to come back here when Sam mentioned an animal he had taken on the task of transporting. The couple in Plum Valley was interested in the dog they found online, but because of their older age, travel wasn’t an immediate option. Sam offered to drive the dog over from Houston for a meet-and-greet, which we did first thing when we arrived in Plum Valley. It went well, and the couple adopted the sweet old canine. It was a great fit.

But there wasn’t a real reason for Winnie and I to be here other than the fact that Winnie wanted to come. Apparently, seeing the place her dads met was going to be so romantic, Dad. Like something out of a fairy tale. Can we go? Please, please? I’m fairly certain Winnie’s expectations were dashed when we drove for a solid five minutes in town seeing nothing but cattle. But she’s been upbeat since we arrived, albeit that might have to do with whichever friend she’s texting incessantly. Probably Janey.

“I don’t regret coming,” I tell Sam. “It’s a beautiful day, and I have you, Winnie, and this ice cream. What more could I ask for?”

He gives me a smile at that, bumping his shoulder against mine. “Another dog?” he proposes, laughing when my face falls into a scowl.

“Sammy,” I groan halfheartedly. “We already have three dogs and a pig.”

“Uh-huh,” he says breezily. “So why not make it an even five pets?”

I grab his chin, stealing a kiss that tastes of chocolate and Sam, and he rumbles against my mouth. “That doesn’t even make sense,” I tell him. He laughs again when I give his face a little shake and then push him away.

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