I rest my head on her shoulder. “That’s why it’s one of my favorite spots on the ranch. My dad used to bring Heath and me here in the summers to fish, and I like to come whenever I need to clear my head.”
She tilts her head to look back at me. “Have you talked to Heath about your work on the ranch yet?”
“No, but I’ve been thinking about what you said. The cattle operation is growing faster than expected, and he could use more ranch hands—hell, what he really needs is to hire a foreman to keep everything running. So yeah, I think it’s time we talked.”
Lately, the sheriff’s been asking me to pick up more shifts, and that call to help with the aftermath of the bar fight wasn’t the first time I’ve worked straight through the night, taking statements and filing reports.
I’ve always known that juggling both responsibilities wouldn’t be sustainable forever, but nothing had ever been important enough to make me rethink my priorities—until now. Having gotten a glimpse of what it’s like being with Birdie, I’m ready to do whatever it takes to make it permanent, and I know that something else will eventually have to give. I just don’t knowwhat that is yet, which is why I need to talk to Heath before making any decisions.
Birdie eases out of my arms and turns to face me, folding her legs beneath her. “That makes me happy to hear.”
“What about you?” I ask. “Still planning to run the sanctuary out of your house?”
She nods, twisting her necklace between her fingers. “For now. Mr. Grady’s place might be off the table, but I’m not giving up on finding another property. It’ll probably take a few years, though—everything I make at the feed store goes toward bills and the animals, so there’s not much left over to save for land,” she explains as she picks a strawberry from the picnic basket and pops it into her mouth.
I grimace at my own oversight, not realizing until now that Birdie’s been footing all the expenses for her rescues. I should’ve known, given it’s not an official operation, but I figured since she’s so damn good at convincing people to take in animals, she’d have already been collecting donations too.
“Have you thought about turning the sanctuary into a nonprofit?” I suggest, leaning back on my hands. “I’m guessing it’d be easier to get donations and apply for grants.”
“I’ve looked into it. I’d need special permits, licenses, and routine inspections. Zoning alone could get me shut down for operating on a residential property. So for now, I’m just doing what I can on my own,” she says, forcing a smile that doesn’t quite reach her eyes.
An idea floats through my mind of how to solve the problem, but I hold my tongue. Right now, Birdie needs someone to listen and validate what she’s going through—not try to fix things. There will be plenty of time for problem-solving later.
“You’re amazing, Birdie, just don’t forget you’re not in this alone. You’ve got me, my family, and your friends.” I reach over to give her leg a gentle squeeze. “Briar’s had to navigate startingher nonprofit, so I’m sure she’ll want to share everything she’s learned with you when you’re ready.”
“Thanks. I appreciate that.” Birdie pauses, looking out over the lake. “She really does know the process better than anyone. I have no idea how she finds the time to run the foundation, help manage the house construction, and take care of Caleb.”
“She’s amazing and a damn good mom,” I state.
I never expected Briar to be the first of us to have kids, yet she’s taken it all in stride.
Birdie nibbles on another strawberry, chewing thoughtfully before speaking.
“Do you want kids someday?” she asks.
With you? More than anything.
I clear my throat, sitting up straight. “I do.”
“How many?”
“I might be biased, but three seems like a good number. And if I had a daughter, I’d want her to be the youngest, so she’d have two older brothers looking out for her,” I say, grinning as I picture a little girl who’s the spitting image of Birdie.
When my parents adopted Briar, it was like the last puzzle piece finally slid into place for our family. Not only did she bring Ma the immeasurable joy of having the daughter she’d always wished for, but she also gave Heath and me the chance to grow closer as siblings, united in our goal to love and protect her.
“Three sounds perfect,” Birdie says around another berry, and I let myself imagine she meansourfuture children. “Being an only child can be lonely, and I like to think things might have been easier to get through with siblings.” The last part is barely audible, meant more for herself than me.
When she doesn’t elaborate, I don’t press. I know more about what she’s been through than she realizes, and I can’t imagine carrying those burdens without anyone to lean on. At the very least, she should’ve had her dad there to offer her the guidanceand strength she deserved. Instead, he’s buried himself in work when he should have been fully present for his family. He may believe his reasons are justified, but that doesn’t excuse leaving Birdie to navigate years of hardship on her own.
“Is the infamous Walker Halstead thinking about settling down and starting a family?” Birdie muses.
I move closer and bracket her with my legs, setting my hand on her thigh.
“Birdie,” I say softly.
She studies me, curiosity shining in her eyes. “Yeah?”
“I might have played the field when I was younger, but I left that part of my past behind shortly after I became a deputy.”And realized you were the only one for me.
