Page 76 of Heart Breaker

Her entire face lights up. Before I can say anything else, she’s already vaulted out of the chair. For the next ten minutes, we work side by side—well, work is probably a generous description. Poppy spends more time narrating the job, but eventually we get it done.

“You’re counting first!” she yells the second the last branch is in the bin. She’s sprinting across the yard before I even get the lid closed.

“10…9…” I close my eyes and start the countdown, laughing at the sound of Poppy’s squeals. I find her pretty easily the first time thanks to her pink runners poking out from underneath the hedge. When it’s my turn to hide, I lie flat on the ground behind the sectional, but it only takes her a couple of minutes to spot me.

On the next round, by the time I open my eyes, the yard has gone suspiciously quiet. Even the birds seem to have settled.

“Ready or not,” I call out. “Here I come.”

I check all of her favorite hiding spots—the side of the house, behind the shed, even in the pool. The scent of sun-warmed mulch and crushed clover follows me from one place to the next. She’s nowhere to be found.

I stand in the middle of the yard, eyes scanning the big, open space, straining to listen for clues as the wind stirs the trees, their leaves whispering against one another.

Finally, I see a flash of movement just beyond the tree line at the back of the yard. My stomach tightens. That part of the property is off limits, acres of dense, dark forest with a steep slope down to the creek that runs through it. The kind of place a kid could disappear into faster than you’d think.

“Poppy!” I yell, walking across the grass, listening for a response. “Poppy, come back into the yard. Game’s over.”

After another moment, there’s a rustling in the trees as she emerges from between two giant fir trees with a frown on her face.

“Uncle Wes⁠—”

“Poppy, come here.”

She trudges toward me, grass stains on both of her knees. Behind her, the forest looms. When she reaches me, I crouch in front of her.

“What’s our rule?”

Her eyes drop. “Don’t go into the forest without a grown-up.”

“Why?”

A frustrated sigh escapes her. “Because I could get lost.”

“Or hurt.”

The breeze shifts, carrying the scent of pine, sap, and damp moss from the trees. She tilts her head, giving me a look that is entirely too much like her father. “Were you scared you were gonna lose me?”

“I was.”

Poppy’s expression softens, her brows furrowing as she processes how I feel. My niece has the biggest heart, and I hope that it will always stay that way.

“Okay. I’m sorry,” she tells me, slipping her hand into mine.

The sincerity in her voice makes my chest ache. I reach over and pull a leaf from her hair. “It’s okay, peanut. I know that rule is probably annoying, but Poppy, you are my favorite person. I need you to be safe, because you’re so important to me.”

The words come easily, because they’re true. Without warning, she squeezes her arms around me as tight as she can. It seems impossible that she has only been in our lives for a little over a year. I can’t imagine our family without her in it. I’ve loved her from the moment Ford told us he has a daughter.

“Can we go inside and see if Auntie Lottie is up now?” she asks into my shoulder. “No offense, but yard work is so boring.”

“Good to know.”

I glance toward the house and that’s when I see her standing just inside the open back door. Lottie is wearing a fitted yellow tank top that hugs her frame and faded jeans that sit low on her hips. Her brown hair is pulled up off her face in a messy knot and she’s looking at Poppy and me with a smile on her face that tells me she’s been standing there for a while.

Poppy follows my gaze and immediately brightens. “Aunt Lottie!”

She squirms out of my arms and tears across the lawn, her triumphant cheer echoing through the backyard, scattering a pair of sparrows from the fence. Lottie laughs as Poppy collides into her, nearly knocking her backward.

“Good morning to you too, Poppy-girl.”