“You heard the lady,” he says. With that, they’re both out of the truck and hauling ass across the driveway to get to the porch. I follow.
“You said calling people lady was rude!” a scorned voice calls over the rain.
I think I like this kid.
BECKETT
It’s really fucking raining out there.
Clover and Lennon are setting up the damn cat’s litter box and food. I need to get the kiddo to bed, but she’s so excited. I’ll let her stay up just a bit longer.
Clover and I both jump when our phones start blaring the emergency weather system alert.
SEVERE THUNDERSTORM PRODUCING HEAVY RAINFALL. FLOODING POSSIBLE. AVOID LOW WATER CROSSINGS. EFFECTIVE IN YOUR AREA IMMEDIATELY.
I groan and look out the window again. The wind is whipping across the way, branches waving in the trees, and a gate is clanking metal on metal somewhere.
“Damn,” I sigh. I really do have to go put the stock up.
“Fifty cents, bucko!” Lennon is smiling widely at me, two of her front teeth missing. In the blink of an eye, she’s gotten her raincoat and rain boots on, and she’s clutching her froggy flashlight.
“Yeah, yeah,” I mumble, sliding my raincoat on, too.
“Are you all going out there? Are you crazy?” Clover asks, watching us gear up.
“We have to put the animals up,” Lennon explains calmly, like she’s teaching someone younger than her. “Don’t think you got out of the swear jar either, Clover,” she says in a somber tone. “I heard your f-word in the truck. I’ll let the full dollar slide— for now.”
Clover stands there, awestruck. “I’m getting extorted by a six-year-old,” she states, looking at me for help.
“She’s an entrepreneur,” I offer with a shrug, trying not to laugh.
“Daddy says I’ll be able to buy the ranch from him by the time I’m sixteen,” Lennon adds proudly.
I open the front door and have to grip it pretty tightly to keep the wind from throwing it open.
“I have to get the kids in the barn before the storm gets worse.”
I watch Clover’s face pale and I realize she’s not putting together what the term ‘kids’ means on a ranch.
“Goats, Clover Jane.”
I can see the relief wash over her.
“We have to get the horses, too!” Lennon pipes in. I clap her on the shoulder.
“Sure do! Let’s go, Beetlebug.”
I shut the door behind me, and Lennon and I run over to the goat pen, not far from the house.
She pulls her little bucket hat down on her head and gets to work, her sweet little voice urging the goats to safety. I’m trying to throw more hay down in the barn for the babies while she’s ushering them in.
Sometimes I wonder if I’m failing as a dad. When Hannah left us, I was terrified. I had my savings account I had beenholding onto for dear life, I had a six-month-old daughter and dreams of being a vet still. I wanted to specialize in livestock.
Fate had other plans for me.
My dad and I went out and spoke with Mr. Denton. Dad had heard he was contemplating selling the place and retiring to Florida, so I gave him an offer and a promise. A month and a half later, I was repairing the gate at the entrance of my new property.
I’ve been doing the best I can with her. Mom shows up almost every day to watch her while I go do the morning chores. I’ve told her multiple times over the years that I don’t mind hiring a nanny for a few hours a day, but she gives me a look that tells me she would either kill me if I did that or be eaten up by sadness that she couldn’t hang out with her only grandkid. I’ve also got a few ranch hands with wives who have offered, and I take them up on it on days that Mom is going to be busy.
