Page 18 of When We Burn

“You, too, Dani.”

The last few days have flown by. I’ve managed to get Birdie all ready for school, finishing up with a trip to the grocery store so we could get all kinds of things for her lunches. We spent Sunday at my family’s ranch, riding horses and hanging out with most of my siblings. My brother Beckett runs the ranch now, and he’s slowly adding on a guest ranch, having just finished building beautiful cabins on the property. He’ll continue his dairy operations, but we have a big property, and he’d like to start capitalizing on the tourists that come to Bitterroot Valley by the thousands every year.

Beck’s a damn smart man.

He’s also busy with a litter of puppies that Birdie couldn’t get enough of—she begged and pleaded for us to take one home—but I had to explain that not only aren’t the puppies old enough to leave their mama, but we’re not home enough to train a dog.

She didn’t like that answer.

But now it’s the first day of school, and Birdie’s forgotten about the little black-and-white puppy and is currently agonizing over which dress to wear.

“I thought you wanted to wear the blue one?” I frown down at the top of her head as I make my waythrough a French braid. My sister, Billie, finally gave me enough lessons for me to muddle my way through it by myself.

Mostly.

My fingers are too big and clumsy for Birdie’s soft, fine hair, but she insists that she wants braids for her first day, so damn it, she’ll have the fucking braids.

“But what if it’s not the right one?”

“Why are you agonizing over your fashion choices at five years old?” I ask her in return. “It’s kindergarten, sweetheart, not a fashion show.”

“I want to becute,” she emphasizes.

“You would be adorable in a burlap sack,” I inform her, and she turns to scrunch her nose at me.

“What’s that?”

“Never mind. The point is, no matter what you wear, you’ll look great. So, you should be comfortable because you’re going to be gone all day. You understand that, right? I’m going to drop you off at your class with Miss Lexington, and then I have to leave, and you’ll be there with her and the other kids until later this afternoon.”

“Yeah.” Her voice is kind of small, and it makes my stomach jitter. “I know.”

“It’s going to be a lot of fun,” I rush to remind her. “And you’ll make so many friends by the end of the day.”

“Maybe.”

I tie off the second braid, and then I turn her to me and take her shoulders in my hands. “Itisgoing to be fun. You’re such a great kid, peanut. You don’t have anyproblems making friends, and you already know Miss Lexington.”

“Why can’t I call her Dani?”

“Because it’s school, and you have to be respectful and call her Miss Lexington, unless she says otherwise.”

“That’s weird. Okay, I’ll wear the blue dress.” But before she runs to her room, she hugs me. “What will you do without me, Daddy?”

I grin and fold my arms around her, holding her close. My girl has the biggest heart, and I don’t want her worrying about me. “I’ll be just fine, and I’ll see you this afternoon and you can tell me all about it. I’ll want to hear every detail, so take lots of notes.”

“I can’t write yet.”

“Oh, right. Well, then just remember everything and tell me later, okay?”

She grins and nods and then seems happy to go get dressed.

What will I do? I’ll be stressing the fuck out, that’s what.

My baby is going to school, and I’mnot okay.What if someone’s mean to her? What if some kid makes her feel like shit? What if she has an asthma attack or gets suddenly tired the way she used to? I hate that I won’t be there to watch over her and keep her safe.

But, less than thirty minutes later, we’re in my truck, parking in the elementary school lot. For the first day, I get to escort Birdie to her classroom, but after today, I’ll drop her off in the drop-off line.

“I’ll carry it,” Birdie says when I pull her backpackout of the truck, and I help her put it on her shoulders before taking her hand and walking into the building with her.

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