Page 16 of Fragile Heart

ETHAN

Camden sprints to the porch of the farmhouse the second the truck’s doors unlock. I sigh and grab his bag from the back seat, scooping the tractors he’d dropped onto the floor in his rush to find Mom. She steps out onto the porch as I’m starting up the stairs, a mug in her hands. She’s dressed in jeans today, and her hair is already styled.

“You’re later than I was expecting,” Mom says as she hugs Camden. Her eyes are on me, though. “I already watered the garden.”

Camden doesn’t seem to mind, holding tight to her leg as he looks up at her. “Can we make brownies? Aunt Emily mentioned brownies on our hike yesterday. And you make the best ones, Grandma.”

She laughs and guides him inside, holding the door for me, too.

“Sure, sweetie. Want to help me grab everything?”

Camden nods as he pulls off his shoes, and then he’s running to the kitchen. Mom and I are slower to follow him. My phonevibrates in my pocket, and I pull it out, already scowling. Anyone texting before seven in the morning has bad news. It’s an unspoken rule about ranching. I swipe open the text from Beau.

Triston says the creek is running, so we shouldn’t need to move cattle until next week. Friday at the earliest.

Well, that just opened up my day.

Great. Have him organize it for Monday. We’ll double check conditions Friday and then again Sunday just to be sure.

“Dad said you’re having to move one of the herds again,” Mom says, pulling me away from my phone.

“That was the plan, but Triston says we’re good to wait a bit longer.” She sets a mug in front of me before pulling ingredients from the pantry. I slide into one of the seats perched at the island. “So now my day is magically free.”

At least until guilt gets the best of me and I finally sit down to do some admin work while Camden is distracted with screen time this afternoon.

Camden looks up from where he’s moving the step stool over to the counter.

“Daddy doesn’t have to work?”

I shake my head. “But you can still hang out with Grandma, kid.”

God knows there’s a thousand things that need to be done for the ranch—just none of them pressing enough to be labeled dire at the moment. He races around the island, abandoning the step stool.

“Can we ride?” Camden asks, leaning into my leg, wrapping his arms around it. His eyes are wide. “Please, Daddy?”

“I thought you were going to make brownies with Grandma,” I say.

Camden frowns as he pulls away from me until he can see Mom. She’s leaning against the island, her coffee back in her hand, a small smile playing at her lips.

“Sorry, Grandma,” he offers.

Her smile widens. “We’ll make them next time you’re over instead.”

He giggles and then races for the door, all thoughts of staying inside forgotten.

I sigh and set the mug of coffee on the island before following him outside.

I’m not as good at riding double with Camden as Caleb is. Partly because Maple doesn’t like me as much as some of the others in the family and partly because I don’t have the same level of patience for being uncomfortable as Caleb. He’s used to being stuck in a small ass cockpit where he can’t stretch his legs. Even when on horseback for several hours, there’s ways to stretch. Not when you’re riding double, though. And the elbows in my side and stomach aren’t a selling point, either.

“You want to work with Nyx in the arena?” I ask once we’re walking toward the private barn.

He tilts his head, biting his lip. It makes his single dimple show up. My stomach twists.

I hate that my stomach does that. I hate that sometimes when I look at my son, all I feel is grief and anger and heartbreak. I shove the feelings down before Cam realizes that something’s off. Kids are so fucking perceptive to things like that. I never want him to think I regret him. I don’t.

I just never expected to see him grow up without Kayla involved.

My phone rings, cutting my pity party short, and I dig it out again.

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