He’s in the barn, methodically brushing down one of the geldings, movements calm in that way of his that always makes the rest of us appear to be caffeinated raccoons.
“She’s not okay,” I say without preamble.
He stills instantly. “Delaney?”
“Yeah.” I scrub a hand over my face. “Ran straight into me in town. Crying. Like… bad crying.”
Caleb’s jaw tightens. “Did she say what happened?”
“No.” I shake my head. “And I didn’t ask. But something rattled her hard.”
He nods slowly, absorbing that. “That’s rough. Especially with everything else...”
I frown. “What else?”
He hesitates, then sighs. “Boone’s not okay either.”
That stops me.
“Define ‘not okay,’” I say.
Caleb sets the brush down. “Sadie’s been having a rough time at school. Boone’s been dealing with it quietly, but he’s on edge lately. The principal didn’t help much. He feels like he’s failing her.”
I swear under my breath.
“So Delaney’s spiraling,” I mutter. “Boone’s white-knuckling fatherhood. And Sadie’s caught in the middle.”
Caleb gives me a look. “Welcome to the emotional weather report.”
I lean against the stall door, frustration buzzing under my skin. “I hate this.”
“I know.”
“I don’t like people I care about getting hurt,” I say, sharper than I mean to. “And I really don’t like not knowing how to fix it.”
Caleb studies me. “You can’t fix it all.”
“No,” I agree grimly. “But we can do something.”
He waits.
“We should do something nice for Delaney,” I say. “Something that says she’s not alone.”
Caleb nods. “That’s a good idea.”
“And we need to keep an eye on Boone,” I add. “Before he buries himself under responsibility and forgets he’s allowed to need help.”
A faint smile flickers at the corner of Caleb’s mouth. “You’re not wrong.”
I straighten, resolve settling in my chest.
Okay.
I don’t know what broke Delaney today.
I don’t know how Boone’s holding it together.
I don’t know how Sadie’s doing when no one’s watching.
