Page 26 of Open Arms

She nodded, her eyes fixed on the book in her hands. “Daddy said she had to move away. But I heard Gamma and Gampa talking one day when they thought I was asleep upstairs. They said she didn’t want to be a wife and mama anymore.”

My heart clenched at the matter-of-fact way she said it, as if she’d rehearsed the words a hundred times. How could anyone walk away from this precious child?

“I’m sure your mama loves you very much, Abigail,” I said gently, fighting to keep my voice steady. “Sometimes grown-ups make choices that are hard for kids to understand.”

She looked up at me then, her gray eyes wise beyond her years. “Daddy says it’s not my fault. I still miss her sometimes.”

And the tears were back, pricking at the back of my eyes. I blinked them away. “Of course you do, honey. That’s completely normal. You know,” I started, unsure why I was opening up to a child when I hadn’t been able to say these words to anyone other than Dr. Bannon, “I lost my mama too. In a different way. She . . . she died and went to Heaven.”

Without warning, Abigail closed the distance between us and wrapped her arms around my waist. I froze for a moment, startled by so much contact in such a short amount of time, but then returned the hug fiercely.

“I’m glad you’re here, Chloe,” she mumbled into my shirt. “You feel safe.”

Those three simple words shattered and rebuilt me in an instant. I tightened my hold on her, silently vowing to do everything in my power to protect this little girl’s heart.

“I’m glad I’m here too, Abigail,” I whispered, my voice thick with emotion.

She pulled back, offering me a smile that could have powered the entire town. “Can we read the horse book now?”

I laughed, the sound a bit wobbly but genuine. “Absolutely. Let’s go find a cozy spot to curl up in.”

As she tugged me eagerly towards the window seat, chattering about horses and fairy tales, I felt a flicker of something I hadn’t experienced in a very long time—hope. Hope that maybe, just maybe, I found some purpose after all. That I could help heal Abigail’s broken pieces, if only a little.

And maybe in return, that could help heal mine.

12

Mason

I pushedthe front door open, the familiar creak a welcome sound after a long day on the ranch. The warmth from the kitchen spilled out into the hallway, carrying with it the mingled scents of garlic and basil. My boots made dull thuds on the wooden floor as I walked towards the source of the delicious aroma.

“Look, Daddy!” Abby’s voice cut through the air, a bright chime against the background sizzle of something frying. “Chloe taught me how to make spaghetti sauce!”

There they were, my little girl and Chloe, side by side in our kitchen – a sight that had become more common but still filled me with a sense of rightness I couldn’t shake off. Chloe looked up, her hair pulled back into a messy lopsided bun, and her smile was like the last piece of a puzzle clicking into place.

“Hey, jellybean,” I said, hanging my hat on the rack and watching them. Abby was kneeling on a chair to get a taller stance. Their heads were close together, Abby’s curls brushing against Chloe’s blonde hair. “Looks like you’ve been busy.”

“Chloe says I’m a natural.” Abby beamed, stirring the potwith careful concentration. Her gray eyes, so much like mine, sparkled with pride. “We even made garlic bread!”

“Is that right?” I leaned against the doorframe, feeling the tension from the day’s work ebb away. “Well, I reckon we’re gonna have quite the feast tonight.”

“Your daughter has quite the knack for cooking,” Chloe said, her voice soft but clear. “She’s got good instincts – knows just when to add a pinch of this or that.”

“Must get that from my mom,” I joked, unable to take my gaze off Chloe. Her laugh was low, a sound that did funny things to my insides.

“Daddy, you’re a good cook too!”

“Am I now?” I chuckled, ruffling her hair. “Guess you must’ve gotten it from me then.”

The girls laughed as they continued stirring, and Chloe helped Abby navigate the hot stove safely, as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

I smiled, but something tightened in my chest. How easy it would be to let Chloe into every part of our lives. Too easy.

“Today was the best day ever!” Abby declared, setting down the spoon and jumping off the chair. She sprinted toward me, nearly colliding with my legs in her excitement. “Chloe and I even made cookies for dessert!”

“Sounds like you’ve had quite the adventure here,” I scooped her up into my arms, her laughter filling the room. “And I missed all the fun.”

“We saved some for you,” Abby promised, wrapping her small arms around my neck. “You can help us eat them!”

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