Page 90 of Fool for You
Laughing, I wrapped my arm around her waist, pulling her to me. “Good thing we can just pick up right where we left off.”
At dinner that night, Quinn sat next to me, our legs basically glued together. With only a few days until the Hartwell Rodeo, everyone was moving and talking about things that still had to get done in preparation for it. Lachlan had moved the bulls and calves over a few days prior, and I had already been inthe announcer box, making sure I had everything I needed to give the crowd a good show. There were more kids signed up for mutton bustin’ this year, and Stetson was quite annoyed he was now out of the age range, trying to convince my sister that he could—in fact—ride saddle bronc. Cash was the first saddle bronc rider of the night, and Rhett was leading tie down; we even had bigger names—like Oakes Ashford and Ty Grant—signed up for bull riding. The only thing that would make this even bigger is if Lachlan was riding bareback—but still, this was shaping up to be the Hartwells' biggest rodeo yet.
“We need to check the stands, make sure the food trucks are booked, confirm the volunteers for tickets and clean up, and oil the chutes,” Abi said, listing off everything with her fingers. “Oh.” She raised one finger. “And fireworks.”
“They’re being delivered tonight,” Lachlan said, not even looking up from his plate.
“Maybe we should think about doing a drone show next year,” Kyla suggested, handing Poppy her sippy cup. “Those are becoming big at other rodeos.”
“I say stick to fireworks,” I retorted, taking a bite of my chicken. “What would Lachlan do if you took the fireworks away?”
Lachlan shook his head. “I’ll look into drones, Kyla.”
“We can head over tonight.” Abi stood. “Lachlan can handle the fireworks being delivered, Rhett, Cash, and I can oil the chutes and check the stands. Kyla—you can drag the dirt.”
Kyla acknowledged Abi by lifting Poppy’s small plastic spoon in the air.
“That leaves me.” I looked at my sister, who gave me her cheesy smile. “Designated babysitter.”
A harumph came from Stetson as he glowered at his mother. Where he was at the age where he could be of some use in the arena, it was also the age where he would get in the way oncehe got bored. He was a Hartwell—he loved the rodeo as much as all of us, but he firmly believed he belonged on the horse, not prepping for it.
“Ah, come on, Stet.” I leaned over, my elbows resting on the table as I stared down my nephew. “It will just be the four of us.”
“Four!? Quinn, too?” He asked, his head twisting to Quinn.
She nodded rapidly. “Me too.”
“We can teach Poppy how to barrel race,” I said, half mumbling, raising my glass to my lips.
From the corner of my eye, I saw Kyla twist her torso, glancing at me before returning to her daughter. Stetson’s eyes widened as his jaw dropped, then he bolted out of his seat, cleaned up the table, and rushed out to the stables.
Quinn chuckled, giving my freshly washed hair a quick kiss. “I’ll follow him and saddle up Charming. He’s calm. Kyla—are you ok with that?”
Kyla stood, reaching for her daughter. “She loves horses, and she’s ridden with her dad a few times, graduating outside of her carrier. I’m sure she will be just as excited to hop on with Uncle Wyatt.”
Poppy reached her arms out as soon as Kyla turned, her fingers gripping the air. She had begun to babble more these days, forming simple words likemamaanddada, and I lived for them. They were adorable in their own way, and now with her fingers reaching out to me, her eyes wide as I held her close, I swear I heard—
“Is she saying my name?” I looked over to Kyla.
Kyla scoffed, “Ha, no. It’s a sound,wah-wahmaybe. She’s been forming new sounds—”
“Wah-wah sounds like Uncle Wyatt to me.” I smiled back at my niece, rubbing my nose against her. I was rewarded with a giggle.
Kyla raised her brow. “It’s a sound, Wyatt. Trust me, when she finally says your name for real—”
“Oh, Kyla.” Abi chuckled, coming up behind her. “Let him have Wah-wah.”
“Yeah.” I furrowed my brow, twisting my face to try to get another giggle out of Poppy. I turned to her. “Uncle Wyatt,” I said, nice and slow, catching every syllable.
Quinn’s chin rested on my shoulder, her hands on my waist. “Uncle Wyatt.” She parroted.
I looked at my sister-in-law, who just glowered at Quinn and me as we said my name over and over again, all the while Poppy babblingwah-wah.
“Fine,” Kyla succumbed. “I’ll give it to you.”
Looking back at Poppy’s blue eyes, her cute little smile on her face, Quinn’s chin on my shoulder…I felt on top of the world.
Poppy kicked her feet and waved her arms, making holding her against my chest harder than it should have been, but her little squeals made it worth it. Quinn and Stetson set up barrels and took turns rounding them, but once Stetson ultimately got bored, he led Marshmallow out of the pen and bet Quinn he could race her to the lake. Quinn hollered, “You’re on!” and then they both took off.
