“It’s okay,” I say. “Happens.”
He’s still not looking at me.
“She started day care over at the church today. It’s just half days. Momma thought it might be good for her to adjust and make some friends before she starts kindergarten next year.”
“That’s a big adjustment.”
“Yeah.”
I hesitate, then ask, “Is something else wrong?”
He finally meets my eyes.
“Yeah,” he says quietly. “I need to talk to you about something.”
My heart jumps. “Okay.”
But before he can say another word, Ruby comes running back, tears streaming down her face. “Daddy!”
He scoops her up instantly. “Hey, baby. Why are you crying?”
“I don’t know.”
“You don’t know?”
She shakes her head. “My eyes just started leaking.”
He chuckles softly, holding her close. “Well, that’s okay, I guess. Sometimes, you just need to bleed the brakes.”
“I’m not bleeding,” she whines.
He smiles into her hair. “No, baby. You’re not bleeding. But you had a big day. I bet you’re tired. And I bet your tummy is hungry.”
Her sobs fade into sniffles. She nods against his chest.
“How about we go home and you can take a bath,” he says gently, “and I’ll make dinner and we can eat it in our pajamas?”
Her head lifts. She wipes her nose with her sleeve. “Tacos?”
He grins and presses his forehead to hers. “Tacos it is.”
She cups his cheeks with both hands. “Okay, Daddy.”
Tears prick my eyes as I watch how tenderly he handles her.
He sets her down, and she runs for the truck.
Waylon turns back to me. “I think I should get her home. Can we … talk later?”
“Sure,” I say.
“Thanks.”
He leaves me standing at the barn, still holding Honey’s reins.
“Waylon?”
He turns back to me.
