“I see a lot, including a picture of you and Tristan Stone dancing at the Beast.”
That’s it. I’m done. I let out a loud scream of frustration and then jab my finger into his chest. “Do not start, Ryan Gatlin. I swear to God, I will make every moment of your life hell. Do you hear me? It wasnothing! I’m so sick of this! For coming from a family that hates the Stones so much, you all say their name an awful lot.”
Before Ryan can respond, Deacon rushes in. “Come quick, we have a problem in the red barn!”
Chapter 15
Tristan
“Sadie?” I call out as I come around the chicken coop area.
I haven’t seen her all day, which is thanks to the sale that came through late yesterday. I had to deliver the horses about two hours away, so I left before she was awake.
However, after I got back, Sadie didn’t come to find me, and I miss her.
“In here, Dad!”
I smile and walk over to find her in the coop, putting up…wallpaper?
“What the hell is that?” I ask, already knowing but wondering whether I’m seeing it correctly.
Her bright smile and blue eyes meet mine. “Wallpaper for the girls!”
“The girls? As in the damn chickens?”
“Yup!”
I stare at her in disbelief. “You’re kidding me, right?”
She shakes her head. “I’m doing some upgrades and Grandad is going to help.”
“I told him to help you, but I didn’t think you’d be putting up wallpaper. Sadie, it’s a chicken coop. They just crap on the walls.”
“I know, but now they can crap on pretty walls. Plus, it’s easier to clean.”
I close my eyes, praying for deliverance. Being a girl dad is a very strange thing. “Where did you even get wallpaper?”
“Online.”
“And how did you buy it?”
She grins. “Grandad said I could use his card for anything I wanted to upgrade the coop.”
Oh, this is so incredibly bad. “And what else did you get?”
“Well, we’re going to build out the coop a little, paint it pink on the bottom, put a new floor in—he said it was gross. I also got curtains for the nesting boxes, some toys, a xylophone, a swing so they can get some exercise.” I cover my face with my hand. “Also, Grandad said the chickens needed a light, you know, like Lark has.”
Of course she wants to make the chicken coop like Lark’s.
“You realize this is absolutely ridiculous, right?”
She shrugs. “I’m also putting up photos, and we’re going to have a hen of the month.”
“Because that’s necessary?”
“I think so. It encourages egg production.”
I have no words. At least none that I’m going to say to my twelve-year-old. I will say them to my father, though.
