Page 41 of Firefly Embers

Just as she neared the barn doors, I saw a large man step out, his straw cowboy hat shielding him from the sun. Charlie ran straight into his arms, not bothering to slow down as she launched herself upward, expecting him to catch her.

True to Max’s nature, he caught her with ease, twirling her around and propping her on his hip. I finally made my way close enough to the two of them, and the sight had me tearing up.

Even though Charlie was growing up and asserting her independence, there seemed to be a special bond between her and Max.

Charlie had only ever known Max as the father figure in her life. Stella had arrived in Firefly Cove when the little girl was only ten months old. Max had swooped in and easily taken on the fatherly role. But I think the fact that Max was the one who rescued her when she’d been kidnapped solidified their bond the most.

Amid all the chaos, the only familiar face she saw was his. That day forever changed all of us, but observing from the outside, I could see the subtle changes in the way Max and Charlie interacted.

She looked at him as if he hung the moon, and he looked at her as if he’d rope every star in the galaxy just to see her smile.

She lay her head gently on his shoulder as she filled him in on all the things we had done during the day, even my refusal to give in and give her a chocolate chip cookie.

“I’m sure Ray would have given you a cookie had you asked nicely, little one.” Max’s words were soft as he brushed the wayward curls from Charlie’s forehead and placed a tender kiss above her brow.

Charlie nodded, then wiggled in his hold to be put down again. Like I said, she wasn’t able to be contained for long.

“Mass Da, can I see cow?” she asked, tilting to the side to look around his large frame into the barn, as if the cow was going to appear out of thin air.

“Ah, I see. You don’t come down here to see your ol’ dad. You came down here to see the baby cow.” He teased her, picking up her hat and ruffling her mess of curls before setting it back down crooked.

She huffed, righting herself and standing with her hands on her hips in annoyance. That face? All Stella.

“I lub yew, Dad, but I wanna see cow.”

I couldn’t hold back the laughter as Max tipped his head back and sighed up at the sky, as if some higher power was going to grant him the patience to deal with his tiny tornado he called a daughter.

I walked up beside him, clapping him on the shoulder as a sign of solidarity. “Yeah, good luck with that one in her teenage years.”

“Fu—”

“Mass Da, bad word!” Charlie scolded, shaking her little finger in his direction. He reluctantly pulled out his wallet and handed her a dollar.

A couple of months ago, we started putting money in a swear jar to go toward Charlie’s college fund. She’d caught on and had started scolding anyone and everyone who uttered a curse when she was around.

We knew she didn’t understand the importance of money yet, but she knew that it kept us all in line, and that girl loved nothing more than bossing us around.

Let’s just say the kid was going to have enough in the jar to afford the Ivy League school of her dreams, should she want to.

“And on that note,” I chuckled, walking backward toward the stables, “I’ve gotta see a man about a horse. You got this?”

Max picked Charlie up, tossing her over his shoulder as she held on tightly to her hat so it wouldn’t fall. “Yep, go on. He’s just finishing cleaning up the tack room. I’ve got the little hellion.”

“Mass Da! BAD WORD,” she shrieked as he tickled her ribs.

“Come on, cowgirl. Let’s go see the baby cow.”

And with that one sentence, her shrieks became excited giggles as she kicked against Max’s hold, and they took off into the barn.

I took ‌a deep, fortifying breath and pushed my shoulders back, readying myself for battle as I made my way toward the stables.

Pushing open the large wooden door, I was greeted with the sound of stomping hooves and the smell of damp hay swirling through the space. One by one, each of the horses leaned their heads out of their stalls, trying to get a look at who was coming in and if there was a possibility of treats being doled out.

Stopping in front of Oakley, Izzy’s horse, I ran my hand down her soft nose as she nodded her head in greeting. Her whiskery lips nuzzled my hand, looking for a treat.

“I’m sorry, old girl, I’m fresh out of mints,” I said softly, scratching behind her long ears.

“Rookie mistake ‘round these parts,” a gruff voice echoed behind me, and I felt the tingles of awareness prickle my skin as I turned and regarded him with a raised eyebrow.