Page 152 of For Cowgirls and Kings

“Goodbye Mama.”

Mateo and Gus are out back, looking at the Longhorn heifers we bought last week at auction—it’s a small group, only four, but they’re beautiful, andthey’re ours.

Faith’s busy texting someone, her face drawn into a look of concentration, and Stetson’s blissed out, baby asleep on her chest, her cheeks flushed with the three bottles of wine we shared. Poppy’s making contented gurgling sounds, her small fists balled as she sleeps, and it’s a heartwarming vision.

Stetson was meant to be a mama. Even if she never had a good example to show her how.

That’s the miracle of life. Even people who have every right to turn out horribly, can choose to do better,be better, simplybecause they want to. Not perfect, or pure by any means, but right all the same.

Stetson’s the compass in which I navigated my way out of my own thick trauma induced haze—if she could survive her horrible circumstance, and become…this? I can do anything I want, be anyone I want to be.

“She’s so perfect.” Stetson giggles, running a gentle circle over Poppy’s back. As if in agreement, I hear a small squeak from the bundle in question and it shoots straight to my heart.

I’ve never wanted to be a mom. And even seeing Stetson and Gus doesn’t change that for me. At least not right now. But I do want to be the coolest, most bad-ass aunt known to man, and I can’t wait to start spoiling Poppy, completely and totally rotten.

“Do you want to hold her?” Stetson asks, and I shoot her a concerned look.

“I’m okay.”

“She’s not glass Dale, you won’t drop her.”

“How do you know?” I ask, feeling like dropping her is the most likely outcome of me holding her.

What if I scar her for life?

“Because you never dropped me. Even when you had unbearable burdens of your own.” Her voice is steady and sure, leaving no room for argument, and the words send a spear straight through my heart.How can I love someone so much it hurts?

“I’m afraid; you’ve always been stronger than me,” I admit, shooting her a small smile.

“Stubborn, maybe. But stronger? It takes strength to love people without reins or remorse. You taught me that.”I did? When?

“Mom-hood is turning you into a softy.” I tease, that fist around my heartsqueezing.

“I just hope I can be as brave as both of you someday. Then maybe I’ll be strong too.”

I whip my head to Faith, whose phone is nowhere in sight now, and there’s a sadness in her eyes I can’t deny. Not anymore.

“Is there anything we can do to help? Are you in trouble or something?”

“We’d do anything for you, Faith,” Stetson adds, sitting up a little straighter.

Faith shakes her head, “My story will come someday soon. Right now, I just have to figure out what I want it to be. I’ve spent my entire life, afraid and alone, driven by anger and fear—hiding who I am because I felt unworthy.” She shoots us a reassuring smile, but it doesn’t reach her eyes.

“Tell us, we can help,” I counter, feeling like I have to step up for her—she deserves that as much as anyone.

“I will, I promise. For now, I’m doing what I do best—helping others with their problems until I’m ready to face my own.”

There’s a weighted pause, one I know that’s filled with sadness, and a bit of frustration.If only she would let us in.

But I’ve been there, and it’s taken going through horrible trauma to realize it’s not better being alone. It’s a journey Faith will have to go on alone, until she’s ready. If she’s anything like Stetson and I, pushing in will only make her push us away.

And I refuse to have that happen. I’d rather be in the shadows, but still in her life, than not in her life at all.

“How about another bottle of wine?” Stetson asks, and I stand before anyone else has a chance to—I can always rely on Stetson to change the subject.

Walking into the kitchen, Faith’s words run through my mind. Not just the ones from today, but everything she’s told us about her parents, about the girl she keeps hidden beneath herperfect exterior. I’d love to reach inside and see what’s there, but something tells me, darkness isn’t always our circumstances—sometimes darkness is within us, and that can be the scariest kind.

Does she not think we’ll love her, no matter what she hides?