Page 88 of Something Like Sunflowers

“Good. We’ll walk you home, and then, Ellie, you can ride home with us. You have a lot of explaining to do later. Don’t even think I’m covering for all that.” I gesture to the mess that is poor Jonathan’s face.

He smirks, looking up at Ellie every so often. “You know, I’d rather beat your barrel time than your face.”

Ellie snorts. “Dream on, Pres. You’ll never beat my time. Not with the way you flop around going into the turns.”

“I don’t flop.”

“Yes, you do. And your horse is scared to death you’ll fall off. Why do you think he sticks his nose up every time you go into your turns? He’s slowing down for you.” She rolls her eyes, chewing her bottom lip. If I had to guess, which I obviously do, I’d say it’s to force back the smile threatening to steal her face.

Pres. Not sure where the nickname came from, but I wasn’t born yesterday. Ellie likes this kid. And he likes her. And that honestly explains a hell of a lot where their fighting’s concerned. I wonder if Hunter has noticed this detail.

He wasn’t much older when he first called me Ponygirl.

It would certainly help him to understand things from her perspective. And what Jonathan said about her being like her bio dad? What Ellie had said about Jonathan’s dad abusing animals? There are some underlying issues here. And maybe it’s good we’re getting them to work it out.

I reach for my phone, but Ellie stops me.

“Wait, you can’t! Not yet. Papa will be furious about the fight, which isn’t even a problem anymore, and Porkloin will get lost in the mess of it all. And just look at him.” She motions to the admittedly emaciated calf who I guess is named Porkloin. “His dad’s got the poor thing chained up to a wall day in and day out. He’s not even feeding it the farm-grade stuff either. It’s a diet not even fit for raising veal, and they don’t offer permits for that in this zone, even if he wanted to!” She breathes in, exasperated, pleading at me with a light in her eyes that begs to let them do this. Let them take this cow back to our farm and treat it right. I can see very clearly that is all the world to her right now. Even Jonathan’s got his hands clasped together and swollen lip jutted out.

“Fuck it,” I whisper, earning dual looks of shock from Ocean’s Eleven and Under. “Give me a break. This mom stuff is new to me.” I sigh, but I realize about twenty seconds too late what it is that I just said.

Out loud.

To Ellie.

I suck in a quick breath, not because I want to take the words back, but because I truly mean them.

And there is no going back.

She stops walking and turns to face me.

“Mom stuff?”

Blue eyes that match the only other pair I’ve ever loved lock onto mine in question. I can profess my love to Hunter through and through, but this is the real moment when I decide on something I can’t run from. This isn’t just Hunter asking me to stay. Or me knowing inherently I’ve never stopped loving him.

It’s Ellie.

My chance to choose again.

I want this life with Hunter and Ellie.

I choose her.

I choose this.

“Silkie stuff,” I say, meeting her bright blue stare. And it happens, I watch the light fill her eyes as the tears fall from mine.

For happiness.

She beams, throwing her arms around me. Blood, snot, and tears fall from her face and coat my clothes, but I couldn’t care less about any of that.

She needs me, and I can be there for her.

Even if we didn’t get the chance with our own child, I’m being given a chance right now to be something to someone who desperately needs me back. More than one someone.

A family. My family.

Purpose bubbles from within, filling me with something I didn’t know I needed. I tried filling it with parties, sponsorships, and influencer banquets, with fancy dresses and designer heels. I even tried filling it with success, which only made me emptier somehow, but nothing compares to the feeling I get with this little family here in Pine Forest.

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