Page 87 of Something Like Sunflowers

“You stole this cow?”

Neither of them answers, so I go for the weaker looking of the two. No offense to this kid over here, but he looks like the one who’d crack in an interrogation, and I know for a fact Ellie will be keeping her lips sealed as long as she feels she needs to.

Because Hunter and I would have done the same damn thing.

“Is this your dad’s cow, Jonathan?”

He nods reluctantly. But only after shooting a quick glance to Ellie and waiting for her nod, confirming what I’d suspected. She’s at the heart of this little heifer-heist.

“We’re going to call your papa after we walk Jonathan and his cow back home,” I tell her, patting the baby cow on the nose. He’s a cute little thing, but not worth throwing punches over.

Ellie huffs and puffs about the cow going back, but I hold up my hand.

“Whatever excuse you have, violence is never the answer.”

“How do you know he didn’t swing the first punch?” She arches a brow, testing me, but I’ve got her number. Can’t bullshit a bullshitter.

“You look like you had a seasonal nosebleed, Ellie,” I say, turning my attention to Jonathan next, “and he looks like he barely survived the Hunger Games.” Jonathan scoffs, puffing his chest a bit higher to prove me wrong, but quickly pulling back in on a wince. Ellie scrunches her nose when she notices.

“I’m sorry I hit you,” she mumbles, kicking at the ground in front of her. He swings his head up to meet her eyes and she cringes, taking in his bloodied face. “…again, that is. I’m sorry I hit you again.”

“It’s okay. I haven’t said the nicest things to you at school. About your, uh…bio dad. I didn’t mean it when I said you’re just like him. You’re not.”

They stare at one another for a moment, a visible understanding forming between them, and it’s awkward as hell. It’s honestly more of an A and B conversation, but they’re still only children, so I’m just chillin’ in the background of Boy Meets Fist over here…chaperoning.

But I’m absolutely uncomfortable, and I really want to get this kid back home and call Hunter.

“Ehhhemmm,” I finally manage, deliberately loud.

They break their weird staring contest, and thank the lord, because I am not prepared for whatever level of parenting that is.

Jonathan bends down to wipe the mud off his jeans. I wonder how long Ellie had him pinned before he gave in. Maybe she should be in wrestling and not rodeos?

He wipes his bloodied lip on his sleeve, and Ellie offers him a handkerchief she slides from her beltloop.

“It’s fine.” He waves her off. “Gives my dad a reason to remember I exist.”

He whispers that last bit. So quietly I almost don’t hear it.

But I do.

This is why Hunter started his farm, isn’t it? To give these kids a safe space to exist, so someone is always there for them, even if home isn’t perfect.

I fall in love with him that much more, without even being in his presence. How could I not?

His influence is all around us. It’s present right now, before my very eyes, in this little girl. A daughter who wasn’t meant to be his but is in every sense of the word. I see it when I look into her matching blue eyes, yes, but I also see it right now, as she turns an enemy into a friend, wearing her heart on her sleeve.

Believing in second chances.

The wind whips around us, the goose bumps spreading across my bare arms reminding me it’s getting late. Lemon and Shana, who have been searching for a first aid kit in Lemon’s mess of a truck, end up finding only one of those crack and pop ice packs, which I obviously offer up to Jonathan, seeing as how Million Dollar Baby over there barely has a scratch.

They agree to stay parked while I walk the kids…and cow…back, the headlights from the truck illuminating the path ahead.

“Should I call Katie?” Lemon shouts as we’re starting up the hill, but I shake my head.

“I imagine Hunter will want to deal with this himself.” Without the involvement of Ellie’s social worker. Whether she’s Lemon’s cousin or not, she’s still someone standing between Hunter and Ellie’s permanency, isn’t she? “Besides, it sounds like they’ve worked out their differences. Right, you two?”

The kids share a look before nodding.

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