Page 24 of Finders Keepers

Sophie looks up at me, her eyes suddenly alive with determination. “Can I try, Mama? Please?”

The hope in her voice melts something inside me. This is what normal kids should sound like.

“Of course we can.” I reach down to take her hand. “Lead the way, Tommy.”

The duck pond game is set up with dozens of yellow rubber ducks floating in a small pool, each with a number on the bottom that corresponds to different prizes. Tommy, the expert, explains the rules to Sophie with all the seriousness a four-year-old can muster.

“You just reach in and grab one,” he demonstrates with his hands. “But you can’t look at the bottom first, that’s cheating.”

Sophie nods solemnly, taking in every word. Molly hands the game operator two tickets, and Sophie carefully reaches into the pool. The duck she chooses ends up winning her a small unicorn keychain, which she clutches to her chest with obvious delight.

“Look, Mommy! It’s just like the one in my book!”

“It sure is, honey,” I say, remembering last night’s bedtime story about a magical unicorn who helped a lost turtle find its way home.

As a group, we start walking further into the fairgrounds and I’m watching Sophie and Tommy a little bit ahead of us, talking away about their prizes and pointing excitedly at the rides and games all around. Maybe this is exactly what we needed.

All of a sudden, Sophie darts to the left. Running at something that’s laying in the grass.

“Mama, look!”

My heart skips a beat as I watch her place a worn tan baseball cap with the A&M logo on her head. She turns around with the biggest smile on her face. The ball cap is much too big for her tiny head and it slants down into her eyes and she shouts, “Finders keepers, finders keepers!”

“No, sweetie,” I say quickly, reaching her to take it off her head. “We don’t know where that’s been.”

“Actually, I know exactly where it’s been,” a deep voice sounds from behind me.

I spin around so fast I nearly lose my balance, instinctively blocking Sophie behind me with my body. The hat dangles from my fingertips as I face the source of the voice.

A tall man stands before me, olive skin and dark hair catching the last rays of sunset. His amber eyes crinkle at the corners as he offers a friendly smile. Broad shoulders fill out a simple navy t-shirt, and my breath catches slightly. He’s undeniably handsome.

I immediately drop my gaze to the ground, Matt’s voice echoing in my head:“What are you looking at? You think he’s hot or something? You want him to notice you?”

“I’m sorry,” I murmur, extending the hat without making eye contact. “She just found it.”

My hand finds Sophie’s shoulder, drawing her closer to my side. I can feel her peering around my leg at the stranger, but I keep my protective stance.

“Thanks for finding it,” he says, his voice gentler now. “The wind took it right off my head while I was way up on the ferris wheel just now. Couldn’t get off fast enough.”

I risk a quick glance upward, catching a warm smile that seems genuine. In another life, I might have smiled back, maybe even struck up a conversation. But old habits die hard. Matt would have seen such an interaction as a betrayal, evidence of my supposed unfaithfulness.

“Dr. Mitchell! I was hoping we’d run into you tonight,” Ms. Lucy says, giving him a big hug. “Bailey, Sophie, this is Gavin Mitchell. He owns the veterinary clinic just outside town.

I hand Gavin his hat back, careful not to let our fingers touch. “Here you go,” I mumble, still avoiding his eyes.

“Thanks.” He takes it and runs a hand through his dark hair before placing it back on his head. “I’ve had this old thing since college. Would’ve hated to lose it.”

Ms. Lucy beams between us. “Bailey and Sophie just moved here. They’re staying in my cottage out back.”

“Welcome to Pine Grove,” he says with a smile. “Best little town in Texas, if you ask me.”

I manage a tight nod. “Thanks.”

Gavin crouches down to Sophie’s level, his movements slow and deliberate. “Hi Sophie, I’m Gavin.”

Sophie presses herself against the back of my legs, her small fingers clutching the fabric of my jeans. She doesn’t answer, just peeks around with one eye before burying her face against me again.

“She’s a bit shy,” I explain, placing a protective hand on her head.

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