Page 4 of And Forever (The Riders and Rings Duology #2)

“Just thinking it’ll be nice to see Mary.

It’s a big birthday for her,” I reassure him.

Mary Prescott is my best friend Ada’s mother.

She was the doctor at the National Finals Rodeo who figured out I was pregnant.

It was a shocking discovery, but Mary was by my side for the terrifying two minutes it took for the test to return a positive result.

Ada happened to be volunteering with her mother that day, and the two of us exchanged numbers.

The two women became an integral part of my support system when I left Wilder.

As a midwife, Ada was there to support me when Winona was born.

She moved from Texas to Evers Ridge less than a year later for a fresh start, and I’ve loved having her so close.

Now, her mom is turning sixty, and we’ve agreed to travel together and introduce her to Winona.

I’ve been looking forward to the trip, even if I was nervous about missing the beginning of the season prep.

Maybe I need to think about my dad’s efforts less as meddling and more that he’s giving me a chance to enjoy an important trip without any worries.

“All done!” Winona raises both hands like she’s riding a rollercoaster, a huge smile smudged in the corner with a streak of chocolate. Her joy in the simple things makes me laugh.

“C’mon, Squish.” I stand and reach a hand out for her, waiting as she slides off her booster seat. “Time to get ready for the day. Gamma is taking you to the grocery store with her!”

“Gamma!” she cheers and swipes Meehaw off the table. Her tiny hand finds mine, and I give it a squeeze.

“Go pick out what you want to wear. I’m going to pick up the dishes and talk to Happy,” I lift our hands and extend them toward the hall, shuttling her off. She bops along, in time to her own rhythm, and hugging Meehaw. “No dresses, please!” I call after her.

When I turn back to the table, my dad has collected the dirty dishes and taken them to the sink.

He folds back his sleeves and nudges the faucet on.

I lift my nearly empty mug of coffee and lean a hip against the counter next to him.

I wait, the silence stretching between us.

It isn’t uncomfortable, but my dad has always been able to read me.

Even when he planned an entire life I didn’t want, I think he always knew it was going to be a fight.

When I bought my horse, Rooney, without his knowledge, I remember the gleam of pride in his eyes even as he doled out a list of consequences.

The push and pull that weaves through the fabric of our relationship has helped shape me into the woman I am today, but it also makes it difficult to hide my feelings from him.

“I know,” he starts, as he scrubs at a melted chocolate chip left behind on Winona’s plate. “You don’t like that I hired someone without talking to you.”

“You’re right, I don’t,” I acknowledge. I drain the last of my caffeine boost. Dad sets the rinsed plate in the drying rack, then reaches for my mug. “So, why did you?”

“Curtis gave me the recommendation, and I asked him to make the inquiry.” Dad finishes the washing up, and I offer him a dish towel for his hands.

He throws the towel over his shoulder and puts his hands on his hips.

“I was going to tell you about it while the guy thought it over, but he accepted the next day.”

Most people might be surprised by something like that, but Arrowroot Hills is a coveted place to work.

Our guest experiences are fully booked every season, with a waitlist of a year.

Our staff have excellent pay, accommodations, and stay with us for as long as possible.

It’s part of why my call list was so long today; I had no less than thirty applicants for the job.

“Is the guy any good? What’s his experience?” I ask.

Before my dad can answer, Winona struts into the kitchen.

Her purple, long-sleeved T-shirt is on inside out and backward.

A frilly rainbow tutu from her dress-up bin sits askew at her waist over a shockingly yellow pair of leggings.

They’re a little crooked at the seams and not fully pulled up at her hips.

She’s finished the outfit off with a pink cowboy hat and brown boots.

I bite back the laugh that bubbles up in my throat.

She looks like I’ve let the wardrobe spin her around in the dark before tossing out rejects of the laundry hamper to wear. Although I appreciate her independence, I can’t possibly let her leave the house in this get-up.

“Look at you!” I muster up the decorum to say. My dad doesn’t suffer under the same compunctions I do and begins to chuckle under his breath. I shoot him a dirty look, but he just laughs louder.

“Winnie Girl, let’s go get you fixed up for Gamma.

I bet she’d love to see those glittery galaxy pants she bought you with that top.

How did you know purple is her favorite color?

” He crosses the kitchen in two strides before kneeling down to Winona’s level.

Her blue eyes widen in surprise that she’s wearing her grandmother’s favorite shade of violet, but brighten as though she planned it all along.

“Yes!” Win enthusiastically agrees and reaches for her grandfather’s hand.

I know he’ll make sure she’s presentable, and not a neon billboard, before I wrangle her into the bathroom for a second brushing of her teeth and to style her hair.

They start back toward the hallway once more, and my dad looks over his shoulder at me.

“You trust me about this, Char?”

I know he’s not talking about the toddler fashion disaster. I don’t hesitate to agree with a nod. I know Dad has the ranch’s interests at heart. I just hope, as the tiniest curl of doubt coils in my gut, that he’s thinking about my interests, too.