I was grateful to be here. But as I watched Layne give my daughter a piggyback ride to his truck, I appreciated the support I had here, at the same time, resenting the fact that I was so dependent on others. In a few years, Sophie would be old enough that she’d be able to hang out with me, but at four years old, she was too young.
I finished in the barn and stepped out into the sunshine only to see Shelby in short shorts and a top that showed off her curves and her hair running the length of her back. She had a camera in her hand, pointed toward the barn. Toward me. Instantly, I stepped back inside the barn to get out of her shot when she called out.
“No! Stay there. That was perfect. Wait. Where’s your hat?”
I grabbed it off a hay bale I’d tossed it onto earlier when I’d gotten too warm and plopped it back on my head. Tentatively, I poked my head around the open barn doors.
“What do you want, Creep?” I called.
“Come out and lean against the barn door.”
“You’re not paying me enough for this!” I called out, talking a big game before doing what she asked.
She squinted at the back of the camera before looking up at me. “Are you married to the idea of your shirt staying buttoned?”
I glanced down at my gray button-down, already sweat-laden and dusty from my morning chores. If it were just me, I would love nothing more than to take it off—most of the time, shirts were little more than torture devices, but I pushed down the warmth spreading inside at her words. Had it been that longsince a woman flirted with me? Except, she wasn’t a woman. She was Shelby. She didn’t even know she was doing it, which made my bodily reaction even worse.
“What kind of photoshoot are you running, Tuck?” I asked. “This is a family-friendly dude ranch.”
“They said I needed pictures good enough to sell.” She threw me a smile, a tiny dimple forming in her cheek as she did so. I decided I’d had enough pictures.
“I’ll take mine off when you do,” I said, bumping into her as I passed, enjoying the embarrassed flush filling her cheeks. Served her right.
We spent the rest of the morning not talking about last night, mingling, and greeting guests as they arrived. It was indeed a family reunion. There were one or two toddlers, but mostly the family was filled with teens and young adults. Later that afternoon, I could sense some restlessness in the teens and got out my ropes to teach them some tricks and tried to pretend this was just a job and not the best day I’d had of “work” in a long time.
“Daddy, is this a weed?”
I wiped the sweat off my forehead before glancing down to where Sophie was patting the dirt in my mom’s flower bed.
“Yeah, you can pull it. Then put this little guy in its place.”
I handed her a purple petunia to plant, and we both moved down the patch of dirt along the front of my mom’s brick rambler home, digging and planting. Every year, my mom lined her flowerbed with petunias, but she hadn’t gotten to it yet. She had been busy managing the diner near the highway where she’d worked since I was a kid. After my welcome speech androping lesson, the guests had activities in the lodge planned for them, which gave me a few hours off. I picked Sophie up early from Kelsey’s, and after sharing a piece of chocolate cake from Chad’s restaurant, we ran into town to grab some of my mom’s favorite flowers.
“Wait, just a sec, Bug,” I began, squinting her way and leaning toward her. “I think there’s another big weed right here!”
She knew what I was about and instantly squealed while attempting to stand, but not before I grabbed her and hoisted her up, flipping her so that her stomach was on my right shoulder, holding her arms out while I spun around until we both landed on the grass, dizzy and laughing.
“Again!” Sophie cried out on top of me, her elbows jabbing mercilessly into my ribs and other more vital places as she attempted to stand.
“Alright,” I said as I rolled over, pulling her back onto the grass and tickling her.
“No! Not that. Spin me!” she demanded in bits between infectious giggles. Her blonde hair spilled around her on the grass, framing a perfect, dirt-smudged little face.
We were interrupted by the sound of a car pulling up to a stop in the driveway in front of the garage. I turned to see my mom step out of her old Buick.
“Grandma!” Sophie wiggled free from my arms and ran toward my mom, wearing wrinkled diner clothes, looking tired but happy as she gathered her granddaughter in her arms.
“What are you two doing here?”
“We’re planting your flowers!” Sophie said excitedly, grabbing her hand and dragging her to the dirt. “Then Dad said I was a weed and he had to pick me.”
“He did, did he?” My mom glanced over at me.
“Hey, Mom,” I said, dusting off my jeans as I walked toward her, letting her pull me into a quick side squeeze.
“Why are you two planting my flowers? I was going to do it.”
“We wanted to,” I said as I grabbed one of the four remaining flowers and began digging a spot.
