Page 36

“T his game is rigged,” Briar mutters as she tosses a piece of popcorn into her mouth.

“You’re the one who shuffled the cards,” I tease, leaning back against the couch.

“Guess we can’t all be blessed with Caleb’s winning streak,” she says, grinning at him.

He’s sitting beside me with Briar across the coffee table as we play our third round of Candy Land.

When I got back to the cottage earlier, I found him in the living room setting up the board game.

He found it in the toy chest at the ranch house, and Julie was delighted to let him borrow it.

The way he expertly arranged the cards and set up the gingerbread men at the starting spot made it clear he knew what he was doing.

It made me wonder how often he played with Amelia, and if they had regular game nights.

Despite my initial negative feelings about her keeping Caleb from me, I’m doing my best to preserve her memory for his sake, giving him pieces of her to hold on to that feel familiar. The last thing I want is for him to carry the weight of my frustration.

We’ve already played Candy Land twice tonight, and Caleb has won both games. That’s why Briar broke out the popcorn and jelly beans to power through round three, saying she needed snacks to prepare for another inevitable loss.

She’s still frowning at the peanut card that sent her back to Peanut Brittle House.

Caleb’s blue gingerbread piece is seven spaces from winning, and his eyes dart between the card pile and me, silently willing me to pick a bad card.

I draw a double yellow, moving ahead of Briar, shooting her a smug look as I pass. After a string of unlucky draws, including being sent back to the Peppermint Forest, I think my luck is finally turning around.

“Better watch out, Caleb, I’m catching up.”

He shoots me a mischievous grin and sticks out his tongue before drawing a single green and moving ahead one space. Only six away from winning it all.

“Here goes nothing,” Briar sighs, flipping her card over and groaning when she’s sent back to the Molasses Swamp. “Seriously? You both have all the luck. This game is out to get me.”

Caleb shifts onto his knees, reaching over the table to rest a hand on Briar’s arm. She covers it with her own, patting him.

“Thanks, little man. I’ll be alright. Just make sure you beat your dad, okay?” she says, winking at me.

“We’ll see about that,” I reply, my tone playful.

I draw a double purple from the stack, closing the gap between Caleb and me.

But when he pulls a double blue, it’s game over.

He slides his piece into Candy Castle, then leaps to his feet, arms raised in the air as he dances around in triumph.

Briar and I erupt in applause, cheering him on like he just won the Super Bowl.

He ends with a dramatic bow that has us both laughing.

This right here is everything I’ve wanted for him—a home filled with laughter and love where we celebrate his wins, no matter how big or small. He’s opening up more with each passing day, and I couldn’t be happier.

When he yawns, a glance at the clock confirms it’s well past his bedtime. No wonder he’s tired. It’s been a long day for everyone, myself included.

It turns out that hauling hay is a lot harder than I remember.

After more than a decade behind a computer, even daily workouts can’t hold a candle to the exhaustion of tossing fifty-pound bales in the summer heat.

My back has already filed a formal complaint, and my hands are starting to show the beginnings of calluses, which, according to Briar, are sexy as hell.

Caleb rubs his eyes, stifling another yawn, the excitement of winning three times in a row finally catching up to him.

I reach over and rub his back. “Alright, champ, it’s getting late. Time to head upstairs for your bath.”

He gives a sleepy nod, but instead of leaving the room, he goes over to Briar. Wrapping his arms tightly around her neck, he rests his cheek on her shoulder. She draws him close, pressing a kiss to his temple.

“Sleep tight, little man. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

A lump rises in my throat as I watch them. Their bond has grown quickly, and Briar has become one of his favorite people. Every time she walks through the front door, he runs to greet her with a hug. The way he lights up when she’s around makes it hard to imagine our lives without her.

Once Caleb and I go upstairs, I run a bath and get him settled with his water toys.

He’s added a dozen rubber duckies from Briar’s Jeep to his bath time lineup, including his favorite—Captain Quackbeard.

He’d stay in the tub forever if he could, so I filled up his water bottle and laid out his pajamas to give him a few extra minutes.

He’s recently added a pair of jammies with cowboy hats and horses to his regular rotation, wearing them nearly every night since Julie gave them to him.

A month ago, I was convinced he’d forever be in his dinosaur era, but it appears the Wild West might give them a run for their money—a sign he’s settling into small-town life more than I ever expected.

It’s bittersweet. While I’m relieved Caleb is adjusting to life in Bluebell, I can’t help but worry about what happens when it’s time for us to leave.

He’s already been through so many changes, and the thought of putting him through another big transition makes me question if it’ll undo our progress.

After he’s finished bathing and changed into his cowboy pajamas, it’s time for his bedtime story.

“Which book are we reading tonight?” I ask.

Caleb walks over to the bookshelf, his brow furrowed in concentration.

He picks up a book about a pig and pancakes, skims the cover, then puts it back.

Next, he pulls out one about a boy named Max and his adventure with wild creatures, but after a quick glance, he wrinkles his nose and sets it back on the shelf.

Finding the right one is a tough choice, and I understand why he’s taking his time to pick the perfect read.

His expression shifts to pure delight when he spots the newest book in his collection, pulling it from the shelf and confidently handing it to me.

“Excellent choice.” I bite my lip, fighting back laughter, but a chuckle manages to slip out at the title— Dragons Love Farts: They’re More Fun Than Tacos!

The name is just as hilarious as the first time I saw it.

Walker spotted the book in the window of Tinker Toys on his way to the hardware store the other day and thought it was too funny not to get it for Caleb.

Leave it to Walker to turn my kid into a fart-loving dragon enthusiast. But if it makes Caleb happy, I’m all for it.

He crawls into bed, leaving room for me to sit next to him. I sling my arm around his shoulders and pull him closer. This is still one of my favorite times of day, and he’s grown more affectionate lately, sinking into me like it’s second nature.

A few pages into the book, Caleb laughs as he points at a chicken and pig caught in the blast of a dragon’s fart.

I let out a dramatic “Pfffft… BOOM!” Complete with an exaggerated arm wave. “If I were that pig, I’d be running for my life too,” I say with a wink.

Caleb clutches his belly, shoulder shaking, and by the time we turn the page, he’s doubled over in giggles as the dragons try to hide their farts in caves, only for them to explode like volcanoes.

I pinch my nose and gasp. “Whew! One of those dragons definitely had beans for breakfast.” My voice sounds like a squeaky balloon, making Caleb snort before bursting into another round of giggles.

It’s the most carefree I’ve ever seen him. Walker is welcome to send all the potty-humor books, if it means Caleb is this happy reading them.

I couldn’t have pictured this would be my life a year ago—reading silly bedtime stories to my five year old and tucking him in each night.

Fatherhood is downright humbling and the greatest adventure I’ve had the honor of experiencing.

I wouldn’t trade it for anything, not even for all of the success in the world.

That’s why I’ve decided that I can’t go back to how things were before. My work schedule needs to change long-term. Caleb deserves a dad who’s present, and I plan to be that for him no matter what.

By the time we reach the last page with Estrella, the rainbow-farting dragon, his mouth curves in a smile, though his gaze is growing unfocused.

I set the book on the nightstand and move him to lie down, resting his head back on the pillow.

He reaches over to grab his stuffed dinosaur that he still sleeps with, though he’s been leaving it in his room during the day.

“It was a busy day, huh? Mama Juile said you were a big help with the baby chicks. We might have to start calling you Farmer Caleb.”

He nods, grinning wide as he gives me a thumbs-up.

“You’ll have to tell me more about it later.” I run a hand through his hair and bend to kiss his forehead. “Good night, buddy. I love you.”

He blinks at me with those big brown eyes, half-lidded with sleep, and says, “Night, Dad.”

Every part of me goes still, making sure it wasn’t a figment of my imagination. It’s not.

Caleb just spoke.

My heart pounds as his voice settles deep within my chest. I want to cry, laugh, hold him tight and never let go—instead, I grin and lean down to give him another kiss.

What he needs from me tonight is to remain calm and steady even though my world has cracked open and put itself back together in the same heartbeat.

As I get up and tuck the covers around him, I notice Briar standing in the doorway, tears trailing down her cheeks. I turn off the bedside lamp and quietly exit the room. She steps out into the hall as I shut the door behind me.

My hand settles on her waist as I wipe her tears with my thumb, leaning my head against hers.

Neither of us speaks, letting the weight of what we just witnessed settle around us.

Since moving to Bluebell, we’ve carried the same fear that Caleb might never speak again or trust someone enough to use his voice.

So to hear him say “night, Dad” is a monumental milestone I’ll cherish forever .

“Thank you,” I whisper.

“For what?” Briar asks, her breath warm against my lips.

“For helping make that possible.” I nod toward Caleb’s room. “He’d never have found his voice again without both of us, and I’ll forever be indebted to you.”

“Thank you for letting me be a part of this.” She rises on her toes and brushes a kiss to my mouth. “You’re a good dad, Jensen. The best.”

A slow smile breaks across my face. Briar believed in me when I doubted myself most; I draw her closer, not ready to let her go.

It’s hard to believe how far we’ve come since Caleb and I first arrived. He was scared of his own shadow, and I was bitter and lost. In such a short time, everything has shifted. Now, I can picture a future where Caleb isn’t just surviving but thriving and embracing life the way every kid should.

Briar’s grin stretches wide. “This calls for spiked hot chocolate on the porch. What do you think?”

“I couldn’t agree more.”

She kisses me again before slipping out of my arms. “I’ll warm up the milk.”

With her, I never have to ask for anything. She seems to know when I need a moment to myself before I do.

After she heads downstairs, I quietly push Caleb’s door open a sliver, wanting to see him again. He’s lying in the same spot, his eyes closed, already fast asleep.

“Thank you for being patient with me, bud,” I whisper into the darkness. “I’m so lucky to have you, and your mom would be so proud. She may not be here, but you’ll always have me, and I’ll love you enough for both of us through every moment, big or small.”

For the first time since learning about Caleb, I’m not angry with Amelia. What I feel now is gratitude. She trusted me with the most important person in her world and believed I could be there for him when she no longer could—and somehow, I have been. For Caleb.

I may never know the full story about why she kept him from me, but I forgive her. Because loving Caleb the way I do, I understand why she wanted to protect him, even if that meant keeping him a secret.

All that matters is that every sleepless night, every moment of frustration has paid off. My son talked to me, and I may never come down from this high. The best part? I got to share it with Briar.