Page 2 of Single All the Way

“We’re late,” I muttered, only half-present in the conversation, my mind jumping to Emerson and her kids and how long they’d been waiting for us. “Which doesn’t make bad words okay,” I dutifully said to Ruby.

“We’re almost home,” Evelyn said.

I was, in fact, about to turn into our driveway.

As I pulled in, I noted the clinic parking lot was empty. That wasn’t always the case, even when it was closed, as people brought ill or injured animals in at all hours.

Next, out of habit, my gaze veered to the pasture, where the horses and llamas spent their days, to ensure that Esmerelda hadn’t escaped. Of course, none of them were out of the barn. I hadn’t had a chance to feed them or put them outside. It looked like an indoor day for them anyway due to the incessant cold drizzle.

As soon as I could see past the house to the driveway, I spotted Emerson’s SUV. I could tell it was running, as the windows were steamy, and the back wiper swished across every few seconds.

Damn.

At least they’d waited.

I pulled up next to the SUV and turned off the engine. Emerson looked my way, and I mouthed the wordsorry, but I wasn’t sure she could see me through the steam and rain.

“Evel—”

“I got the chickens, Dad,” my older daughter said before I could.

“Go infrontof Miss Emerson’s car,” I said as she let herself out the back passenger door.

She didn’t answer, so I watched to be sure she did as I said. Without a glance at Emerson or her kids, Evelyn walked to the front of the vehicles, her mind fully on the birds, I would bet, then ran toward the chicken coop to do her morning chores.

“Let’s go, Ruby.”

I got out and opened my daughter’s door so she could climb down. She raced around to the passenger side of Emerson’s vehicle, likely looking for Xavier.

“Around the front, Ruby!” I called out. “We don’t go behind cars, remember?”

“Sorry, Daddy!”

Luckily Emerson wasn’t going anywhere, but I wondered how many times a parent needed to repeat the same thing for a kid to finally hear it and follow it. Three or four thousand was my guess.

I made it to Emerson’s door without her getting out. When I got there, I saw why. Her four-year-old daughter, Skyler, was curled up in Emerson’s lap, her head tucked into Emerson’s shoulder.

I heard the door on the other side open, and Ruby and Xavier, who were thick as thieves whenever they were together, ran toward the house, wrapped up in their conversation. Emerson’s dog, Nugget, raced after them, around them, in between them, tail wagging, excited to be free of the car.

Finally Emerson opened the door and flashed a smile that was not at all real. Her makeup-free green eyes were tired and concerned. She wore her toffee-colored hair in a messy bun on her head.

“Hey, Ben.”

“I’m sorry I wasn’t here at eight thirty. I got an emergency call on a distressed mare in labor.”

“It’s totally fine. We were late too. Everything okay with the mare?”

I couldn’t help smiling. “She and her foal are doing well. Everything okay with you?”

As Emerson slid down from the driver’s seat, Skyler clung to her like she was never going to let go. Supporting her daughter with one arm, Emerson reached in and picked up a kid-sized backpack.

“Hi, Skyler,” I said to the back of her head. “Welcome.”

Emerson frowned over her daughter’s head. “She’s sad to leave Kizzy’s house. It’s the only home she remembers having.”

“That’s rough,” I said sympathetically. “I think you’ll like staying here, Sky. It’s like living in the middle of a petting zoo.”

She turned her head to look at me, staying glued to Emerson.

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