Page 11 of And Forever (The Riders and Rings Duology #2)
He’s amazing with Winona, spending every offered opportunity to be with her.
She’s always been a social, animated child.
Quick with smiles and open to being with others who pay her attention in a genuine and endearing way.
She isn’t shy, even if she can be reserved at times.
I’ve watched how she’s embraced Wilder’s presence: first like a new playmate, sharing toys and playing games.
But this week, there’s been a shift between them that has caught the breath in my throat more than once.
She’s allowed him to pick her up and walk with her down the dusty path to the chicken coop.
She’s crawled into his lap on the porch with a well-worn copy of The Very Hungry Caterpillar to listen to it for the millionth time.
But she hasn’t called him “Daddy” yet, despite my regular usage of it when referring to him.
I even tried using my dad as an example of the relationship, but that almost led to her thinking of him as another “Happy,” so I backed off.
She’ll get there someday, it’s just a huge adjustment.
I know Wilder tries not to be bothered, but something in his face pinches sadly every time Winona calls him “Wild.”
Rooney shakes his head restlessly as we finish a slow walk along the shoreline. I thread my fingers through his mane before leaning forward toward his twitching ears.
“Are my thoughts bothering you?” I laugh. Rooney pulls, nodding clearly, and I clutch at my chest in mock-offense. “Well, excuse me. It’s not like I have a manual for how to deal with all of this.”
I lead him in a turn, heading back the way we came. My thoughts have started to muddle with the freedom I’ve felt since climbing on his back. A quick glance at my watch lets me know we need to be getting back.
As soon as we’re free of the trees, I let Rooney loose again.
My cottage smells like pancakes, and when I step into the mudroom, I can hear the distinct Australian lilt of cartoon dogs from the living room. I shuck my jacket before slipping out of my boots, then step into the kitchen to survey the scene.
A plate of pancakes sits on the kitchen counter covered with a cloche, a beautiful card decorated by Winona next to it.
Her wiggly scrawl covers the front with little fingerprint animals that she clearly had help drawing.
“For Mama,” it reads. At almost three, this is the first of my birthdays she’s really been able to help with, and I can’t help the tears that burn in the back of my eyes.
I blink them away as I see a vase full of wildflowers sitting on the center of the dining room table, a simple twine bow wrapped around the bunch.
They’re the same ones I regularly pick when out on the ranch, and I wonder if Ada took Winona to get them while I was gone.
Swinging my attention to the living room, I expect to see Ada and Win curled up on the sofa as the Heeler family completes household chores on the television.
Instead, from my spot behind the couch, I see my daughter plastered against Wilder’s long, form.
He has his arm wrapped around her and is partially covered by a pink, fuzzy blanket.
Meehaw sits on his shoulder, and he’s watching the cartoon intently.
“We caught him on the porch not long after Winona woke up,” Ada whispers from my left. Her appearance has me jumping in surprise. “He was leaving those,” she gestures to the wildflowers, “so I invited him to have breakfast with us. That okay?”
Winona points at the television, her tinkling giggle making Wilder turn toward her and smile. It’s a soft, loving look, one I’m familiar with giving. My heart expands in my chest as I take in the domestic sight in front of me. My daughter and her father—the man I’ve never stopped loving—together.
“Yeah, it’s fine.” Ada wraps her arm around my waist when my voice cracks with emotion. It’s the best kind of overwhelm. “Look at them.”
Ada’s head rests against mine as she gives me a squeeze. “He put a star on her potty training chart, picked out her clothes, and helped her brush her teeth. Aside from flipping pancakes, it’s like I haven’t existed to them.”
The episode ends, and Wilder removes Meehaw from her perch, returning her to Winona’s grabby hands. He reaches for the remote and turns the television off despite her protests of, “One more, please!”
“I think that’s enough for now,” he tells her gently. “Your mama should be home soon, so let’s make sure everything is cleaned up, okay? It’s her day.”
Winona lets out a sigh, then she wiggles free of the blanket and stands. The tears I’ve kept back return with full force when I see her hair. Twin wonky braided pigtails cascade over Winona’s shoulders, secured with a pair of emerald bows.
My gasp draws Win's attention, and she comes running over. It's pure muscle memory that allows me to stoop and catch her in a big hug.
"Happy Day, Mama!" It's jumbled but adorable, and Win's face is alight with pride for saying it.
I feel Ada step away before she takes to picking up a couple of abandoned stuffies in the living room.
I snuggle my girl and thank her for the card as Wilder folds the blanket neatly over the back of the couch.
He nods at Ada before eating up the distance between us in a handful of strides. I can't tear my eyes away from him, and my heart rate kicks up when he gives me a lopsided smile. Carefully, he leans close, his lips brushing the softest kiss against my cheek before pulling back.
"Happy birthday." He glances at Winona, giving her a friendly tug at the end of one pigtail before saying goodbye and exiting through the front door.