Page 7 of Chasing Shelter (Sparrow Falls #5)

TRACE

I reached for my coffee and downed a healthy slug.

There wasn’t enough caffeine in the world for how I felt today.

I’d tossed and turned until well after two in the morning, thinking about my new neighbor.

And when I finally fell asleep, my dreams were full of her, too—dreams I didn’t want to look at too closely.

My phone dinged, and I swiped it off the table.

Cope has renamed this group to Anyone Got Any Singles?

I frowned at the screen. What the hell did that mean?

Cope

I heard from a little birdie that Trace did a striptease last night.

My frown morphed into a scowl. Small towns.

Kye

By little birdie, you mean one of Sutton’s mom-friends, don’t you?

I knew he was right because a boy Luca’s age lived down the street. The next time I saw his mom doing thirty in a twenty-five, I was giving her a speeding ticket.

Rhodes

I’m sorry, I’m still stuck on the striptease part of this.

Fallon

No, it’s the striptease AND Trace part of that sentence.

Jesus. Did my siblings seriously think I was that much of a stick-in-the-mud?

Me

There was a fire situation.

Kye

And you put it out with your shirt?

Me

It’s a long story.

Cope

It always is. *wink wink*

Me

You’re the worst. I need to go check on Keely.

Arden

Lolli would be so proud of your striptease, T-money!

Fallon

Remember, make good choices. And if someone tries to pull down your G-string, just say no.

Shep

That was a mental image I did not need.

“Daaaaaaddy!” Keely’s heat-seeking-missile voice was back. But this time, it was followed by thundering footsteps that were far louder than a six-year-old’s should be. The drumroll of feet hitting the stairs was followed by a stampede toward the kitchen.

“Keels, what is the rule about running on the stairs?” I called before she appeared.

“Don’t do it ‘cause I could get hurt,” she yelled back.

“That’s right. So, let’s put that into practice, okay?” I always tried to be gentle with my girl, but I needed her safe above all else. Setting my phone down, I pinched the bridge of my nose. It was going to be a long day, and it wasn’t even eight a.m. yet.

“But it was an emergency.” Keely skidded to a stop in the kitchen’s new threshold.

Shep and his construction company had taken it down to the studs and rebuilt it, blending modern elements with the history of the Craftsman.

But I wasn’t thinking about what an incredible job my brother did with the remodel. I was too busy gaping at my kid’s hair.

She sent me a wavering smile. “I think I made an oopsie.”

It took everything in me to keep the panic I felt from my expression. Keely had attempted something a little more ambitious with her hair this morning. Her pigtail braids were off-center, and one looked like it was sticking straight out thanks to some hair gel she’d clearly gotten into.

Keely’s lower lip started to tremble. “Can you fix it?”

Hell.

That killed me every time. It didn’t matter if it was a skinned knee or a lost stuffed animal. I couldn’t handle Keely being upset. I glanced at my watch, nearly letting an audible curse slip free. We had eight minutes before we needed to leave.

“I got you,” I assured her. But I wasn’t so sure. Both Fallon and Rhodes had tried to teach me braiding, but my fingers didn’t seem to have the dexterity. The best I could do were simple braids, and even those didn’t look especially awesome.

“Thank you, thank you, thank you!” Keely smacked a kiss on my cheek as she dropped her brush onto the kitchen table.

I turned in my chair and assessed the damage. This wouldn’t be easy. My hands worked at getting one of the rubber bands loose, almost losing a finger in the process. I grunted as it snapped against my skin.

“Hurry, Daddy. We’re gonna be late.”

I was well aware of that fact. Sweat broke out on my brow like I was trying to defuse a bomb. When I finally got the rubber band out, the braid didn’t fall. “How much gel did you use, Keels?”

“Only half the bottle,” she said, snatching a piece of my bacon.

Jesus.

I grabbed the brush and tried to gently work it through her hair.

“Ow, ow, ow!”

“Sorry.” I winced. “It’s just a little tangly.”

I wondered if I should dunk her head in the kitchen sink, but we didn’t have time. I worked as fast as I could, detangling as the clock counted down. By the time we hit three minutes, I’d managed to get her hair into loosely braided pigtails that hung on either side of her head.

“Done. Let’s hit it,” I said, pushing to my feet .

Keely felt her head. “They aren’t spunky.”

I grabbed her backpack and lunch box. “Spunky?”

“They’re supposed to be spunky. Like they’re happy.”

“Happy hair?”

Keely bobbed her head in a nod.

“Maybe we can try for that tomorrow. But we gotta jet.”

Keely’s mouth thinned, a mixture of frustration and sadness swirling in her light green eyes.

And hell, if that didn’t make me feel like a failure.

It seemed I was always letting her down about something.

Hair wasn’t a big one, but it only drove home the others.

Like the fact that I hadn’t been able to make it work with her mom.

We headed toward the door, Keely going straight through it as I paused to set the alarm.

“Keels, wait,” I called. Knowing that my birth father had gotten out of prison had my head on a swivel every time we stepped outside the house.

But the only thing I saw when I moved onto the front steps was Keely’s tiny shoulders shaking as she tried to hold in her tears.

Fuck.

“Hey, Colson fam,” a musical voice sounded from next door as I locked the deadbolt.

Great. Now, Ellie would bear witness to my failings as a parent.

As I glanced over, I saw Ellie’s gaze zero in on my daughter’s face and instantly register her distress. Most people avoided a potential kid tantrum like the plague, but not Ellie. A second later, she was crossing the yard, headed straight for Keely.

“What’s going on, bestie? Rough morning?”

Keely nodded, tears tracking down her cheeks. “My hair’s sad.”

The sentence didn’t even make sense, but that didn’t stop Ellie. “We can’t have sad hair now, can we?”

Keely shook her head, and one of the rubber bands at the end of a braid slipped free, falling to the stone pathway.

“How can we make it happy?” Ellie asked, eyes only on my daughter.

“I-it needs to be spunky. ”

“I got this,” Ellie said, pulling two rubber bands from around her wrist.

“We’re gonna be late?—”

“Daddy, pleeeease. I don’t want sad hair.”

Ellie’s gaze flicked to me, her fingers already running through Keely’s hair. “How much time we got, Chief?”

My mouth thinned. “I’m a sheriff, but—” I mentally calculated. If I drove five miles over the speed limit… “Five and a half minutes.”

“No problem. I’ll have you out of here in four.” Ellie’s fingers flew through Keely’s hair, first creating two pigtails and then beginning to braid them in a style I’d never seen before. “These are called fishtail braids. They were my favorite when I was about your age.”

“Who did them for you?” Keely asked.

The innocent question was like a knife to the chest. I was no good at this sort of thing, and her mom thought it was a frivolous waste of time. Leah’s idea of loving Keely was trying to get her into a French fluency program at the age of six.

Shadows swept through Ellie’s eyes. “My mom when she was up to it. Sometimes, my nanny.”

“My mom says braids are silly.”

Ellie’s gaze cut to mine, searching. But I blanked my expression, not giving anything away.

“I guess they are silly, but they’re also super fun. And I love braiding my hair. See?” Ellie ducked so Keely could see the thin braid serving as sort of a headband in her hair.

Everything about the woman was a work of art.

From the braid in her hair to the outfit that looked perfectly put-together but uniquely her.

She wore wide-leg pants in an olive green that hit mid-calf, showing off tan, toned flesh.

Her sleeveless white top hit just above the band of those pants, revealing a sliver of skin I wanted to trace with the pad of my thumb.

And countless necklaces ringed her neck, bringing in colors that felt more her than the rest of what she was wearing.

Reds, pinks, blues, and turquoise in delicate beads I wanted to grab hold of to pull her close.

Hell .

“I love your braid, bestie,” Keely said with a grin.

Ellie’s fingers deftly wove a design I couldn’t have mastered, even with hours to spend on it. “Thank you. It makes me feel like a princess in hiding.”

“Can I be a secret princess, too?” Keely asked, wonder replacing the earlier sadness in her voice.

“I’m pretty sure you already are.”

Keely giggled at that. “What were you doing at Mrs. Henderson’s? Hiding from an evil queen?”

Ellie’s lips twitched. “I actually live there now.”

“For reals?” Keely squealed.

“For reals.” Ellie fastened the second braid with a rubber band and straightened. “There we go. Two minutes to spare, Chief.”

“Sheriff,” I bit out.

Ellie beamed at me, and damn if that didn’t hit somewhere in the vicinity of my chest.

“Daddy, look how spunky I am!” Keely twirled in a circle, sending her braids flying around her.

My kid was happy. That was what mattered. And Ellie had made her that way.

“Thank you,” I gritted out.

“Why does it sound like you just had a wisdom tooth pulled?” Ellie asked, amusement wrapping around her words.

“Supergran says he’s cranky because he doesn’t go out dancing,” Keely added helpfully.

A laugh bubbled out of Ellie, wrapping around me like husky silk. “Is that so?” she asked, eyes twinkling. “You know, I had a pretty good dance party to *NSYNC before you barged in last night.”

“What’s *NSYNC?” Keely asked, confusion in her voice.

Ellie made an exaggerated motion of stabbing herself. “You’re tearin’ up my heart. We’re gonna have to work on your musical education, bestie.”

“Dear God, please don’t,” I muttered.

Ellie just laughed again, and I wanted to drown in the sound. She offered a hand to Keely for a high five. “Just for that, we start today. I’ll work on a mix of their greatest hits.”

Keely jumped in the air, fists skyward. “Dance party.”

“First, let’s get you to class. First grade waits for no one,” I said, a hint of gruffness taking root in my voice.

“Bye, Ellie!” Keely cried, running for my SUV as I beeped the locks.

“Have a spunktacular day!” Ellie called after her. “And thanks for the pizza, Chief.”

“You’re welcome,” I gritted out as if a boa constrictor were strangling my words.

But I didn’t let myself turn around. Didn’t allow myself to take in the magic that swirled around her—the kind that could be volatile.

I’d seen it firsthand with my mother. How they were reading you a bedtime story with all the voices one minute, and the next, on the roof of your cabin saying they could fly just like the dragon in the book, track marks running down their arm.

My childhood had taught me one thing. Magic wasn’t worth the risk.