Page 10 of Finders Keepers

“Mommy, I’m hungry,” she mumbles, her hair sticking up in all directions.

I force a smile, pushing down the fear Emma’s call has stirred up. “Let’s see what we can find to eat, sweetie.”

Alittle while later we’re in the kitchen playing, I Spy and a sharp knock at the door sends my heart racing. I instinctively grab Sophie from off the granite countertop, pulling her behind me and in an instant my anxiety takes hold. My hands tremble slightly as I position myself between the door and my daughter, old fears creeping up my spine like unwanted visitors.

“Who… who is it?” I call out, my voice shakier than I’d like, cursing inwardly at how vulnerable I sound.

“It’s just me, darlin’.” Ms. Lucy’s southern drawl eases my fear, but it doesn’t entirely erase it. I will my racing pulse to slow. The tension in my shoulders begins to ease, though my hands still quiver slightly.

I open the door, unconsciously running fingers through my damp hair. I’d just managed to take a proper shower while Sophie made herself comfortable on the couch watching her cartoons, and the whole thing felt wonderfully normal. The lavender scent of the shampoo that was already in the shower still lingers in the air.

Ms. Lucy is standing there with a warm smile that reaches her expressive green eyes. “I wanted to check on you girls and invite you over for supper. Made my special chicken pot pie recipe.” The mention of food makes my stomach growl, I place my hand over my rumbling stomach and give a low laugh. “I guess we’re a little hungry.”

“Well, I can fix that right up,” Ms. Lucy says, her silver hair catching the light. “Dinner’s almost ready if you’d like to join us.”

“Us?” I question.

“Yes Dear, Jake and I, we have dinner most nights together.”

I hesitate, chewing my bottom lip. We’ve already accepted so much from this woman. “That’s really kind, but we don’t want to impose—”

“Nonsense,” she waves away my concern. “Food tastes better with company. Besides, that pot pie serves six.”

Sophie peeks around my legs, her small fingers clutching the fabric of my jeans. Ms. Lucy crouches down slightly, adjusting her dark glasses to better see my daughter.

“And I hear you met Buttercup earlier today,” she says, her voice gentle.

Sophie’s grip on my jeans loosens slightly. “Yes ma’am.” she asks, her voice small but curious.

“Buttercups been with me for years. Did she let you pet her?” She asks, gently coaxing Sophie from behind my legs.

Sophie steps forward just a tiny bit. “She’s soft. And her nose tickled my hand.” She scratches her hand and that makes Ms. Lucy chuckle.

“She only lets the people she likes pet her,” Ms. Lucy says with a wink. “She must think you’re special.”

“Buttercup loves treats,” Ms. Lucy continues, her eyes crinkling at the corners. “She’s got quite the sweet tooth for carrots and apples.”

Sophie’s eyes widen with excitement. “Can I give her treats tomorrow?” She looks up at me, then back to Ms. Lucy, bouncing slightly on her toes.

“Well,” Ms. Lucy says, adjusting her glasses, “if it’s okay with your mama, you can certainly bring Buttercup some treats. That old girl never turns down a snack.”

I nod, smiling at Sophie’s enthusiasm. It’s been so long since I’ve seen her this excited about something.

“You know,” Ms. Lucy says casually, her tone light but I catch something meaningful in her glance, “Jake’s a wonderful riding instructor. Been teaching local kids for years. Sophie might enjoy some lessons if you’re staying around a while.”

My body goes rigid. Riding lessons? With Jake? A man I barely know? My throat tightens as I picture Sophie alone with him. Matt’s face flashes in my mind—his charm when we first met, how everyone thought he was so wonderful until the doors closed.

“I—” I start, but words fail me. My fingers instinctively find Sophie’s shoulder, drawing her closer.

Ms. Lucy must notice my reaction because her expression softens. “No pressure, of course. Just thought I’d mention it. The kids around here love it.”

I force myself to take a deep breath. This isn’t Oklahoma. This isn’t Matt. And Sophie—she deserves opportunities I never had. Matt would have scoffed at riding lessons, called them a waste of money, probably followed by a lecture about my poor judgment that would escalate into something worse.

“Maybe,” I manage, my voice steadier than I feel. “I don’t know much about horses myself.”

Sophie looks up at me. “Can I, Mama? Please?”

I stroke her blonde waves, buying time. “We’ll see, honey. Let’s get settled in first, okay?”

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