Page 10 of Open Arms

She nodded and brushed a strand of blonde hair behind her ear. That’s when I noticed the scar along her right temple. It looked old, but made me wonder what had caused it.

Abby grabbed Chloe’s hand, startling her slightly. “Come see my room! I have lots of horse posters and toys!”

Chloe hesitated, glancing at me as if asking permission. I nodded that it was okay.

Chloe allowed herself to be pulled along by Abby, her slight frame seeming even more delicate next to my daughter’s energetic presence. As they chatted on their way to the main house, I noticed Chloe favoring her right side slightly, as if protecting unseen injuries.

My brow furrowed as they disappeared from view, her reticence to show that vulnerability troubling me. What had happened to her? The scars and guarded nature suggested a traumatic past, perhaps even abuse. An unfamiliar anger simmered in my gut at the thought of someone hurting her.

Shaking my head, I tried to clear away the speculation. I knew nothing about this woman who would now be living amongst us, relying only on instincts honed from my own painful history. While part of me wanted to protect her, I knew from experience that pushing too hard would only drive her away.

No.

I didn’t know much, but I knew for damn sure it wasn’t my place to insert myself in her life. I’d keep things polite and friendly, but nothing more.

I stood at the bottom of the stairs, listening to Abby’s excited voice floating down from her room as she showed Chloe her collection of Breyer horses. Despite my misgivings, I couldn’t help but smile. Abby had taken to Chloe right away, and her friendly nature seemed to put Chloe at ease.

Chloe’s laughter rang out, light and musical, in response to something Abby said. The sound warmed me unexpectedly. Itreminded me of wind chimes dancing in a summer breeze, carrying away the darkness.

I tried to cling to my doubts, but they slipped through my fingers. This woman posed no threat. If anything, she seemed in need of safety, although I didn’t yet understand from what.

When Chloe appeared at the top of the stairs, Abby clinging to her hand, the shadows had retreated from her face. The lingering sadness in her eyes remained, but the walls she had erected had seemed to shrink, if only a little.

“Abby, let Miss Chloe unpack for now,” I interjected gently not wanting to dampen their budding connection but mindful of boundaries.

“Okay Daddy! But can Miss Chloe come see the horses later?” Abby inquired excitedly before running back towards me already lost in other thoughts.

“Would love to meet your horses later!” Chloe’s chuckle surprised me—light and carefree like the earlier breeze carrying her scent towards me. I had to steel myself from getting too excited about it.

“Alright, we’ll take her up to the ranch some time. But for now, we gotta get dinner up and give Miss Chloe some space to settle in.”

I couldn’t help but catch her eye as I said her name and a part of me swore she smiled just a bit wider for me there. But I looked away, forcing myself to ignore it. It was probably my damn imagination, anyway.

“Thank you for the tour of your room, Abby.”

“You’re welcome, Miss Chloe!” Abby said, a decibel or two too loud.

Chloe chuckled and started back toward the cottage. “Thanks, again,” she said as she breezed past me, not waiting for an answer.

“You’re welcome,” I said, but she was already too far away to hear it.

The next day, I was caught red-handed staring at Chloe as she moved a few more boxes from her car to the cottage.

She’d hung a bright red sundress on a hook, airing it out in the crisp fall breeze. All I could think about was how good that would look on Chloe’s petite but curvy frame.

“Watcha doin’, Daddy?” Abigail’s voice, a curious hum, pulled me from my thoughts like a bucket of ice water over my head.

“Just thinkin’, kiddo.” I bent down to her level, the earlier tension in my shoulders melting away as I tucked a loose curl behind her ear. Her gray eyes, so much like mine, sparkled with unspent energy and innocence.

“About Miss Chloe?” she asked, her head tilting as she pieced together adult concerns with a child’s clarity.

“Something like that,” I admitted, marveling at how this tiny person could see right through me. “You like her, huh?”

“Uh-huh! She’s nice. And she likes horses!” Abby’s excitement was contagious, and despite my reservations, I found myself smiling genuinely for the first time that day.

“That she does.” I stood up, ruffling her hair, which always seemed to spring back defiantly.

“Can she come over for dinner? I wanna show her my doll collection.”

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