“Glad you think so,” he says, soft, almost talking to himself.
I step back and look at the bed again. It’s good. Hell, it’s better than good. But there’s more to this than just Charlie’s room.
And I think we all know it.
It’s about creating a space for Dakota, too. One that’s welcoming, comfortable, a place where she can settle in.
“Where do we want this?” Reid calls over the set of drawers he’s carrying through the hallway. “These are for Dakota’s room, right?”
I know, I know, this might not be the best financial decision for the ranch. Building bedrooms for people who might not even be moving in.
But I’m not worried about the money right now.
Our future is way more important. The rest, we can gradually rebuild.
I catch a glimpse of Reid, moving with more confidence than I’ve ever seen. It’s funny, because not long ago, I couldn’t imagine him being the one to handle the finer details of this project.
But now, he’s holding his head a little higher, taking things more seriously, and I can tell he’s proud of it.
“Yeah, that’s Dakota’s,” I answer, grabbing one of the drawers from Reid’s pile and moving it into place. “She’ll need storage for her stuff. She’s got a lot of artwork. You know, the kind of stuff that takes up space.”
“For when she’s staying over, right?” Reid shoots me a playful wink.
“Sure… for now.”
But as I say it, I can’t shake the thought that lingers in my mind. The idea of Dakota and Charlie actually living here. Not just visiting, not just staying for a night or two.
I think we’re all starting to imagine it. It’s there, in the back of our heads, waiting to take shape. I mean, we’re building rooms, right?
We’re building a home.
Clint slaps a piece of wood into place and catches my gaze. “You think they’ll actually stay?” he asks, testing the waters, not sure if he’s ready to hear the answer.
I don’t hesitate. “I think they will.”
It’s not just the rooms we’re building. It’s everything around them. A life. A family. Hell, even the idea of it feels real now.
We’re doing this, and it’s scary. But it’s also exciting in a way I didn’t think was possible.
The sound of hammers hitting nails and boards floods the room, but there’s a different rhythm now, one that’s us moving us forward. We’re not just putting together furniture. We’re putting together a future.
I can’t help but picture it. Dakota coming down the stairs in the morning, Charlie running around the yard, the three of us getting along as if we’ve always been a family.
Reid tosses a rag over his shoulder, wiping his hands. “So, what’s next?”
He’s clearly trying to keep the mood light, but I can hear the question in his voice. What happens after this?
I look at him, then at Clint, and nod toward the doorway.
“Next? We finish this room. And then…” I let out a breath. “Then we start thinking about what comes after that.”
Reid smirks. “Throw pillows?”
I chuckle. “Sure. But no frilly curtains.”
Clint, as always, stays quieter than us, but there’s something in the way he moves now. Slower, with more purpose.
And as we work, putting this room together piece by piece, I wonder what it’s gonna feel like when it’s all done. When it’s not just about making space for them, but about having them here.
