A fool can dream.
Cleo’s deep blue eyes narrowed into tiny slits as I came to a stop in front of her. “Fancy running into you here,” I drawled, giving her my best smile and slipping my hand into my pocket. It would probably be in my best interest not to piss her off even more, but in my defense, it didn’t take much. Anyway, her anger was better than indifference. It meant I still got under her skin.
Déjà vu hit me hard and fast as Cleo glanced down at the clipboard in her hand. For a moment, we were sixteen again, standing in the barn with her cheeks flushed. I didn’t give a shit if it’d been twenty years since it’d happened; it was the start of our journey. It was the moment I knew I wanted Cleo Hayes to be mine, and mine alone.
Hindsight might have been twenty-twenty, but sometimes I wished it wasn’t. Sometimes I wished the details of our pastwere unfocused and blurry, or that I could remember the smiles rather than the tears.
I’d never forgive myself for all the tears. Not for one single second.
When the page flipped, her eyes dipped down the page and headed straight for the W’s, likely trying to find my daughter’s name. Joke’s on her, though, because I hadn’t used Wilde for that very reason.
If she’d seen my last name on the list, she would’ve immediately issued a refund and followed up with an email that said, “Absolutely the fuck not.” There would be no questions. No time to explain or plead my case. It’d be one more door shut in my face, and I couldn’t let that happen. Not when this was my chance to settle our past once and for all.
“I think you might be mistaken. I don’t have anyone with the last name Wilde on my list,” Cleo said, straightening her shoulders.Called it.“Unfortunately, we can’t make exceptions. Our slots are all filled. I’m sorry you made the trip for nothing.” Her words were professional but with a razor’s edge. She was already slipping on the cold mask I’d seen her don in October.
It’d been strange seeing a side of her I never had before. The Cleo I knew was far too afraid of upsetting those around her to stand her ground. On the one hand, I was damn proud of her for not taking any shit. On the other, I hated it being used on me.
“Try Hart,” I said, gesturing toward her clipboard.
With a small sigh, she turned back to the first page. Her lips drew into a tight line when she found what she was looking for. “Charlie Hart?”
“That’s my girl.” I placed my hand on my daughter’s shoulder, giving it a slight squeeze. “And she is so excited to be here. Aren’t you, sunshine?”
Cleo’s eyes glanced over the edge of the clipboard, staring down at Charlie, whose little body was damn near vibrating with excitement. I was worried if I lifted my hand, she’d bolt outof here before I had a chance to stop her. “Daddy said I can ride a pony here!” she said, looking up at Cleo.
When we left the ranch last October, Charlie cried all the way home. She talked nonstop about coming back to the ranch so she could pet all the animals. Olivia and I both tried to do what we could to console our daughter, but words didn’t seem to work. Nope, Charlie wanted to see results and follow-through.
Honestly, there were many times when my daughter reminded me of Cleo. It was as maddening as it was endearing to be surrounded by little reminders of her. Sometimes I found myself staring at Charlie with an aching heart, but I didn’t let it show.
Cleo lowered the clipboard. Just like the last time she was faced with Charlie, her eyes grew distant. Glassy, almost. It took every ounce of self-restraint I had not to ask what was going through her head. To know if it was our memories and my broken promises that stared back at her from my daughter’s eyes, or if it was something else entirely.
“You absolutely can,” Cleo said, clearing her throat. “Do you, uh, have a pony at your house?”
Charlie shook her head, looking down at her feet. “No. I asked Mommy and Daddy if I could have one, and they told me no. They said I had to know how to ride one first. I keep asking, though.”
“Maybe they’ll get you one after this,” she offered, softening her tone a touch.
“Daddy already said I’d need more lessons before I could get one.” Her little face lit up, cheeks pink as she took a step forward. God, she really was too cute for words. “He said you were a really good rider. Can you teach me while we’re here?”
Cleo looked up, mouth dropping open and snapping shut like a fish out of water. I couldn’t help myself. I just smiled wider. She probably thought I was using Charlie against her,which wasn’t exactly true. If my daughter wanted to learn how to ride a damn horse, then I was going to make sure she had the best teachers around.
Did I, however, know there was no way Cleo could say no if Charlie asked? Sure. Kids had always been her weakness. My dimples were her second. It was safe to say the odds were in mine and Charlie’s favor here.
“We’ll see. I don’t think you’ll be here long enough for me to do that.” Cleo kept her eyes on mine as she said it, so I knew her barbed words were aimed at me. I was okay with that because it meant she was at least listening.
Charlie looked up at me, confused. “You said we were staying here for a long time?”
“I didn’t say a long time…” I said slowly, scratching the scruff along my chin. I didn’t have time to shave this morning. Between Charlie running down the halls screaming and my overthinking, we were almost late. “I said we’d be here for however long it takes.”
My daughter furrowed her brows. “What’s that mean, Daddy?”
“That’s a great question, Charlie,” Cleo said, adjusting her stance so I had the full weight of her attention. “I’d love to know, too.”
It seemed presumptuous to say, “Until you’re mine again,” because I honestly didn’t know if that would ever happen. What I did know was that until Cleo told me she didn’t want anything to do with me, I was going to stay.
Because if there was even the slightest chance of redemption, I was going to fucking take it.
“It means I have some things I need to take care of in Ashwood, and my daughter wants to learn how to ride a horse. Seems like we can kill two birds with one stone, ya know?” I held my breath, waiting for her to call someone over and kick usout, but it didn’t come. Cleo glanced back down at my daughter, shoulders slumping ever so slightly.
