Page 21 of Dallas

She’s a great woman, my stepmom. Mostly, I think of her as my mom. I don’t really have another one. If I ever think of her as my stepmom, it’s because I’m caught up in thinking about the past. But I just call her mom.

I hear a stirring sound behind me, and I turn to see Sarah standing in the doorway. “You made breakfast?”

“No. My mom did. Mystepmom. Kaylee.”

“Oh,” she says, walking into the room and looking at the beautiful spread. There’s a strange emotion on her face and I can’t quite place what it is.

“What?”

“Your life is just so beautiful,” she says, looking around the little log cabin. It’s rustic, but I have to admit that it’s charming.

I try to evaluate it like I’m seeing it for the first time. The floor is wood, with a geometric patterned rug in dusty blue colors sitting in the blank space between the living room and the kitchen. The walls are split logs, treated with a varnish that makes them look warm and shiny. The cabinets in the kitchen are stained cherry, a nice contrast to the walls. I’ve always liked it.

“Is this a working ranch?” she asks.

“Nah. Not really. We have horses, which…” I realize that she doesn’t know about my journey after foster care, my journey to the rodeo.

Connecting to my dad was a surprise when I moved here, but the connection I found to horses was an even more unexpected development. It’s such a deep love that goes down to my bones. That’s become part of who I am. Another thing that’s hard for me to remember a time when I wasn’t like this.

The before and after feels so strong right now.

“Lucy was my first horse,” I say, grief makingmy chest heavy. I’ve mourned her like a family member since she died four years ago. She wasn’t just a horse, she was my way into this new life. The first thing I was really comfortable loving here.

“How long did you have her?” Sarah asks, her voice soft.

“Five years. She was older when I moved here. We almost lost her in the first few months I was here it was kind of my intro to ranch life. It’s when I got to see my dad in action. He’s a great vet. He loves animals and…I discovered I love them too. He had a couple of Australian Shepherds when I moved in, too – Pepper and Cheddar. He got a new puppy after I’d been here a while, Dougie, and he’s still around and old. Then he got puppies for the girls once they were old enough to handle them. Though, we could debate whether or not they’re actually taking care of them at all, so when we head over to the house it’s going to be chaos.”

“Girls?” Sarah asks.

“Yeah, my little sisters. Cara and Lucy.”

“Wasn’t Lucy your horse?”

I feel the back of my neck get hot. “Yeah, I…named her. After my horse. Which, when you say it like that, it seems kind of weird, but at the time it made sense.”

She’s smiling at me, and it makes me want to look away from her. I don’t, though, so our eyes just hold for an uncomfortably long time and my chest feels sore.

“So yeah, there’s Lucy, who’s four, and Cara, who just turned six. Well, and the dogs.”

“That sounds like a nice big Christmas,” she says, her smile looking a little bit dreamy. “It is. Come on and eat. We’re not going to be able to avoid my family very long. I think they’ve jumped to some incorrect conclusions about your presence.”

She frowns, going over to the table as I go to the kitchen and fire up the coffee maker. Caffeine is important.

“In what way?”

“I think my dad saw me carrying you inside on his security camera. You know, it goes off whenever somebody approaches the house. It’s practical because I’m gone all the time. I don’t think he means to use it to spy on me. Or maybe he does.

Truthfully, Bennett’s not the kind of dad to be too up in my business. We’re close, but my dad respects the fact that I lived the first fifteen years of my life without family. That doesn’t mean he gave me total freedom during my teenage years. Quite the opposite

But he held on loosely with certain things, because what’s the point of being overprotective when your kid had already been through a host of traumatic things by the time he was five? It was never about him overprotecting me, overcompensating. He gave me boundaries to let me know he cared.

I do wonder sometimes, though, if he’s a little more overprotective than I realize. Because he was up last night at some point, making sure I was home.

And hadn’t texted or anything to let me know he was waiting, or to say that he was worried. He’s not the type to get up in my business like that, but maybe my dad worries about me more than he pretends to.

I feel weirdly warmed by that.

The coffee maker is running too slow, and I pace around in front of it while Sarah serves herself pancakes.

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