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T he next day, I decide to keep Caleb home from camp and take the day off work. After what happened yesterday, I felt we could both use a chance to recharge and spend some quality time together.

We’re perched on a fence alongside one of the pastures, sharing a peanut butter and jelly sandwich and watching Petunia, Heath’s pet cow, nose her way through the grass. Lately, we’ve been visiting daily, and Caleb has become almost as smitten with her as he is with Ziggy.

I have one arm around Caleb to keep him steady as he eats.

“Good, huh?”

He nods enthusiastically as he takes a big bite.

Before we set off on our adventure, I packed PB&Js, a bag of Cheez-Its, a carton of strawberries from the patch behind the ranch house, and some water bottles. I want each outing to be special and serve as a small reminder of how much he matters to me.

When a butterfly lands near Petunia, she stops and lifts her head, letting out a loud moo that only stops once the butterfly has flown away. Caleb bursts into laughter as she flicks her tail and turns in a slow circle to make sure the intruder is gone.

I lean over, nudging his side. “Guess she isn’t a fan of butterflies sharing her grass.”

He gives me a nod, his eyes crinkling with amusement.

These moments with him make me appreciate the slower pace of life.

Summer is flying by faster than I want, and soon, we’ll be back in New York with him starting kindergarten.

I once viewed the city as my escape, convinced that ambition and status would erase my past. Funny how the very place I wanted to get away from is the one healing me and my son in ways I never expected.

It makes me wonder how I’ll give up the routine we’ve created or the quality time we’ve spent together in Bluebell.

Sure, I’m working now, but since we got here, I’ve learned to set boundaries.

I take a break when Caleb gets home from camp before he and Briar head off for the afternoon, and by six, I’m done for the day.

Our weekends are all about creating memories.

We explore the ranch, play with Ziggy, and often stop by the ranch house to feed the chickens.

Briar has dinner with us but usually leaves us alone the rest of the night.

If I’m honest, we’d both love to spend more time with her.

I glance across the pasture when I hear a horse’s neigh and see Heath riding toward us on a black quarter horse, its white blaze standing out against the dark coat.

Caleb scoots closer, leaning into my side.

He’s still unsure around the horses but enjoys watching them from a distance.

Briar mentioned wanting him to take lessons, but if that happens, I’ve decided I’ll be the one to teach him.

I’m a bit rusty since it’s been so long, but riding never leaves you.

I’ve missed it—a lot. There’s a quiet power in learning to move in sync with an animal that commanding, and I’d like Caleb to experience that when he’s ready.

Heath tips his hat as he gets closer. “Howdy there, buckaroo. You making sure your dad stays out of trouble today? ”

Caleb’s lips tug into a smile as he gives Heath a thumbs-up before plopping the last bite of his sandwich into his mouth.

“Good man. Someone’s gotta keep him in line.” Heath winks.

“Give it a few more weeks, and he’ll be running this place,” I tease, ruffling Caleb’s hair.

“If that’s the case, we’ve got to get him a hat and boots of his own. No proper cowboy or rancher can go without them. Although, I bet Briar’s already on it,” he says with a glint in his eyes I can’t quite decipher.

I brush a few crumbs off Caleb’s face and grab the water bottle from the fence post. Once I uncap it, I hand it to him and he takes a long sip. He lets out a satisfied sigh, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.

“What are you doing out here in the middle of the day?” I ask Heath. “Don’t you have cattle to round up or chores to do?” I smirk.

He swings down from his horse and loops the reins around the fence post, pulling them tight. He grabs a small container from his saddlebag before coming to stand near where we’re sitting.

“Walker and the ranch hands took a lunch break, so I came to check this part of the perimeter. When I spotted you, I figured I’d stop by to visit Caleb and Petunia.”

I arch a brow. “Nice to know where I stand.”

“Sorry, partner. The new model has better hair and my favorite snack. Hard to compete with that,” he says, grinning at Caleb, who has a Fruit Roll-Up sticking out of the pocket of his overalls.

“I’ll remember that when you want help digging a post hold or baling hay.”

Heath rubs the back of his neck. “Actually, now that you mention it, I could use some extra hands with the latter soon if you’re up for it.”

I roll my eyes, laughing. “Oh sure, nothing says lifelong friends like swapping me out, then backtracking when you realize you need me for manual labor.”

Heath arches a brow. “So does that mean you’re in?”

I shrug. “Sure, but only if I’m done by six. Saturday nights are reserved for pizza and cartoons with Caleb.”

“Fair enough,” he says before turning to Caleb. “I brought Petunia a treat. Want to give it to her?”

Caleb nods eagerly and reaches out as Heath helps him down from the post. It’s not the first time he’s fed the cow, and he always lights up at the chance.

He waits nearby while Heath pulls a small container from his saddlebag, then follows him over to Petunia.

Her eyes are glued to the treats in Heath’s hands, her tail swishing with excitement.

He’ll deny it, but Heath definitely thinks of her as his pet.

It’s ironic, considering most of the cattle on the ranch are raised for meat.

“Hey there, sweet girl,” he murmurs as he scratches behind her ear. “We brought you a snack.”

Petunia moos softly, pressing her nose against his palm while he pets her.

He pauses to open the container he brought, and Caleb is already waiting with his hands cupped.

Heath pours a generous amount of oats into them, and Petunia dips her head to reach Caleb’s hands, greedily eating from his palms.

“She’s your biggest fan.” Heath chuckles.

Caleb giggles when Petunia sticks out her tongue, sweeping up every stray oat.

My chest tightens, the sound music to my ears.

I’ll never tire of hearing it, and I’m grateful that it’s becoming more frequent.

Julie was right about the ranch being good for him.

Not only has being around Ziggy, Petunia, and the other animals been therapeutic, but having the Halsteads rally around him has made all the difference too.

Here, he has all the love, support, and encouragement I could’ve hoped for, and I worry about how we’ll manage when we leave it all behind to go back to New York.