Clint laughs, a deep, rumbling sound. “You sure can, little man. But let’s start with brushing them again, alright?”
Charlie’s eyes widen, his grin stretching even further. “Okay! I’ll brush ’em real good! Just wait ’til you see!”
Reid, who’s been working nearby, looks up as Charlie zooms past him. He gives a chuckle, shaking his head as he watches the little guy go, his hands on his hips. “Hey, Charlie, ready for some horse time?”
Charlie doesn’t even pause, his excitement too big to be contained.
“I’m helping Clint right now!” he shouts over his shoulder, not even breaking his stride.
Clint and Charlie head toward the stables, and I smile at how natural it looks. Clint’s already showing Charlie how to care for the horses, his hands gentle as he demonstrates the right way to brush down the coat of one of the bigger horses.
I stand back and watch, heart swelling as Clint points to the horse’s mane. “Gotta get under here, too. Right where it’s a little knotted. You can do it, just be careful.”
Charlie nods vigorously, his little tongue sticking out in concentration as he moves the brush in slow, exaggerated strokes. His small hands look so out of place on such a large animal, but somehow, it works.
His focus is absolute. Clint watches him, his gaze soft, but there’s pride in it too. Not just in the way Charlie’s brushing the horse, but in how he’s stepping into this new role as a mentor, as a guide.
“You’re doing great, kiddo,” Clint says. “See how much better he looks already?”
Charlie looks up at him. “Really? He looks better? Like a good horse?”
Clint chuckles and ruffles Charlie’s hair. “You’re making him look like a show horse. Now we just gotta get his hooves cleaned up. Think you’re ready for that?”
Charlie bounces on his feet. “Yes! I’m ready!”
Reid sidles up next to me, his hands in his pockets. “Think he’s gonna be asking Clint to teach him to rope cattle next?”
I glance over, meeting his eyes, and the teasing fades. “I don’t know. But maybe… that wouldn’t be such a bad thing.”
Reid smirks. “You’ll have to keep up, then. Clint doesn’t do anything half-heartedly.”
We both watch as Clint shows Charlie how to clean the hooves, guiding his small hands as they work together. The moment feels bigger than just brushing a horse or cleaning hooves.
There’s something foundational happening here, a bond forming between them that runs deeper than I realized.
By the time we move on to the next task, feeding the horses, Charlie’s eyes are sparkling with pride. He carries the feed buckets to each stall with Clint walking beside him, making sure he doesn’t spill any.
When Charlie successfully gets the hay in one of the troughs, Clint claps him on the back.
“You did it, buddy! You kept it all in the bucket, just like I showed you!”
Charlie beams, looking around for me, eager to see if I’m watching. “Mom! I fed them! I didn’t spill a single thing!”
I wave from the fence where I’ve been standing, arms crossed, just watching them. “I see you, buddy! You’re doing great!”
Sawyer walks up beside me, his boots making soft sounds on the dirt as he watches the two of them. “You know, I think Clint was born to be a dad.”
I turn to look at Sawyer, surprised. “Really?”
He nods. “He’s got this way of just… knowing how to make everything seem easy. He’s been a natural with the horses forever, but with Charlie, it’s different. He’s got this patience… like he’s built for it.”
I swallow, looking back toward Clint and Charlie. They’re laughing now, Charlie running ahead of Clint to the next stall, his arms wide as he pretends to be a cowboy riding a wild horse.
“Yeah,” I say softly, my heart a little too full. “I think he might be.”
By late afternoon, we’ve moved on to other things. Charlie’s working with Reid to hammer nails into a small piece of wood, trying to build a birdhouse out of leftover scrap materials. Reid crouches next to him, showing him how to hold the hammer, guiding his small hand as he taps it gently against the nails.
“You’ve got the idea, kid,” Reid says with a smile, stepping back to let Charlie finish the job.
