Page 39

She paled at the statement. “Oh.”

I shifted Caleb to my other arm and reached out and cupped her shoulder gently, relieved when she didn’t pull away. “Let’s try Pawsitive for a few days and see how you like it. If it doesn’t work out, I’ll see what else I can find.”

“Okay. Thank you.”

She leaned into my hand—just for a second. A quiet, intimate gesture that made us both go still. The air between us shifted, thick with everything unspoken. The pull that hadn’t gone away, despite everything.

Almost without thinking, I traced the curve of her cheek with my thumb. Soft. Warm. I moved closer?—

Then stopped as Caleb let out a gurgle and reached a tiny fist toward his mother’s hair. She and I both laughed as I untangled the strands he’d grabbed and was trying to fit into his mouth.

Once she was loose, she turned back toward the stove. “I’ll finish making dinner.”

“Don’t you need the recipe from the computer?”

She froze. “No, I, uh… I think I remember it now. I don’t need to look it up.”

“Okay, great.”

But whatever had just passed between us was gone. Vanished like it hadn’t happened at all.

Her defenses were back in full force—rigid and unyielding, just like her spine as she stirred the sauce with mechanical precision.

Worse, her head was bowed again, that familiar, quiet sadness settling over her like a shadow she couldn’t shake.

I’d always prided myself on reading people. On spotting trouble before it boiled over. On knowing what someone needed before they ever had to ask.

But not with Piper. The more time I spent around her, the less certain I was about anything.

And that had to change.

Chapter 13

Piper

The morning airat Pawsitive Connections carried the scent of hay and horses, mixed with something earthy and alive that made my chest loosen from all the stress, even if just for a moment. I adjusted Caleb in his sling against my torso, his warm weight a constant reminder of why I was doing all of this, and headed toward the main barn.

“Morning, sunshine!” Lark Monroe called out from where she was filling water buckets, her voice carrying a slight rasp, like she’d spent years shouting commands across fields. Her auburn hair was twisted up in what looked like a pencil—no, was that a hoof pick?—and her movements had an athletic grace that spoke of someone who’d learned to be quick on their feet. “How’s our littlest helper today?”

I glanced down at Caleb, who was contentedly sucking on his fist. “He slept almost through the night last night. I think he likes it here.”

The formula had been helping him stay fuller longer. I keep reminding myself that Dr. Rankine had said there was nothing wrong with formula. That it gave a baby all the nutrients he needed.

I had to believe that was true. Given everything, it seemed like such a tiny detail to be concerned about, but still, I was.

“Smart kid. Being around animals is good for the soul.” Lark twisted off the hose with more force than necessary, a brief flicker of something crossing her face before her bright smile returned. “Speaking of which, I want you to meet someone special today.”

Before I could freak out, she led me deeper into the barn, past stalls containing horses of various sizes and colors. Each one turned to watch us pass, their dark eyes curious but calm.

At the very end of the barn, in a larger stall with fresh straw bedding that smelled like summer, stood a bay mare whose sides were swollen with pregnancy.

“This is Duchess,” Lark said softly, her whole demeanor shifting as she approached the horse. Her hand moved along the mare’s neck in practiced strokes, and I noticed a thin white scar running along Lark’s forearm that disappeared under her rolled-up sleeve. “She’s due any day now. First foal for her, so we’re keeping watch round-the-clock.”

Duchess lowered her head toward me, nostrils flaring as she investigated this new person. The mare’s breath puffed warm against my shirt, right where Caleb’s head rested, and my son made a small sound of contentment.

“May I?” I asked, lifting my hand slowly.

“Go ahead. She’s got the best judgment of character on the whole farm.”