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Josie tucked into his side.

Cash behind me, his hand loose on my ankle.

The five-legged feed-store cow.

The couch-horse.

Butterbean’s crown.

Me, holding a pink marker.

Wyatt removed his glasses and cleaned the left lens.

Nobody spoke.

Then Cash said, “Morning, Wy. Want a sticker?”

“No.”

“Sure? We have hats.”

“I came to discuss the north hayfield.”

“Hayfield sticker?”

Wyatt put his glasses back on. “Cash.”

“Coming.”

Cash pressed a kiss behind my ear before getting up. The gesture was quiet, but Wyatt saw it. Wyatt saw everything. He filed it somewhere behind the glasses with the creek levels and the breeding records and every expense the ranch could not afford.

Boone tried to rise.

Josie still held his wrist.

He looked down at her.

She looked at the unfinished horse.

Boone added a tail.

Only then did she release him.

Cash watched the entire exchange with naked delight. “Daddy’s under orders.”

The room went still.

Josie went pink from her collar to her hairline.

Boone rose to his full height.

Cash’s delight faltered. “I’m going to discuss hay now.”

He left quickly.

Wyatt stepped aside to let Boone pass. His expression did not change, but one eyebrow moved a fraction.

He knew.