I scrub a hand down my face. It’s fucking driving me crazy that I don’t know what’s going on in their lives.
Am I even entitled to it?
Heading out front, I bypass the workers bringing in supplies to work on the guest rooms and wait for Poppy. Her babysitter is dropping her off today.
I’m excited that she’s coming. That Presley is trusting me with her. A blue car pulls up around the driveway, Poppy’s excited face peering at me from the backseat. Complete with her cowgirl hat.
I wave at the nanny before Poppy bursts out of the car.
“Hi, Kade.”
“Hey, Poppy.” I kneel down, holding my hand out for a high five, which she happily returns. “Ready for more fun things at the ranch?”
“Why’s it called The Lost Spur?”
I look at her babysitter. “She asked when we came in. I said you would know. I’m Becca, by the way.”
“Kade.” I stick my hand out for her to shake.
“Nice to meet you. Have fun with Kade, Poppy. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“Bye, Becca!” Poppy calls back to her before turning to face me.
I tap a finger on my chin. “So, why is it called The Lost Spur?”
“Do you know?” She adjusts her hat.
“You know those metal things on cowboy boots?”
She nods. “Mr. Verne used to wear them.”
“He lost one of his one time, so he walked around town with only one on his boots. He looked funny, and people laughed at him. He thought it’d be funny to name his ranch that.”
Poppy giggles. It’s the sweetest damn sound, and I love that she’s at ease with me. “Did he ever find it?”
“You know, I don’t know,” I answer honestly. “Are you ready for the activity we’ll be doing today?”
“Are we going to see Lollipop? I drew her picture at school.” Setting her backpack down, she fishes out a piece of paper and hands it over to me. There’s a brown blob in the middle with two stick figures on either side. “That’s us with her.”
“Wow, this looks great.”
She smiles. “I made it for you.”
I swallow back the emotion that threatens to take over. “Thanks, Poppy. I’ll have to show Lollipop later, but today I thought we could go fishing.”
“Fishing?” She screws her nose up as she slings her backpack over her shoulder. “I’ve never been fishing. Aren’t they slimy?”
Grabbing her hand, I lead her down to the lake that sits near the front of the property. It’s a short walk and doesn’t take us long, even adjusting my stride to her smaller steps.
“We’ll catch them then throw them back.”
“We’re not going to eat them? I like fish sticks.”
I hold back my laughter. “These aren’t the kind of fish you eat in those. But I have a feeling you’ll have fun.”
Poppy shrugs a shoulder as the old shack that holds the fishing gear comes into view. “Okay.”
I find a small pair of waders and boots for Poppy to wear and grab the fishing lines to head out to the canoe.
