I didn’t sleepat all last night, spending the remaining hours before dawn tossing in my bed. I replayed the phone call on repeat, wondering what exactly I’d said that’d crossed the line. Cleo seemed fine with the nickname, but somehow it was me telling her I missed her that triggered her sudden need to flee.
I was already up when Charlie came bouncing into my room thirty minutes before her alarm was supposed to go off. She climbed into my bed, her stuffed unicorn at her side, and curled up next to me. These moments were few and far between. She wasn’t overly affectionate unless something was wrong.
“What’s wrong, baby?” I asked, pressing a kiss to the top of her head.
She pouted, a trait she’d perfected in her short six years, and turned to me with big, watery eyes. “Daddy, I don’t want the camp to be over.”
I hated that it was ending, too, even if it was for different reasons. “I know, but we’re gonna ask Miss Cleo if someone on the ranch can give you private lessons.”
She nodded, snuggling deeper into my side. “What if Miss Cleo says no?”
It was a possibility. While I didn’t want to lie to my daughter, I also didn’t want to ruin her day before it started. “We’ll just talk to her and see what she says, okay? I told you last night I can’t make any promises.”
Charlie was silent for a long moment. “I’ll be sad if she says no, Daddy.”
“Me too, kid. I know how much it means to you.” It meant a lot to me, too, but I couldn’t say that. She was too damn inquisitive, and I didn’t have half the answers she was looking for. Instead, I squeezed her tightly. “How about we do something fun tonight, huh? Just you and me?”
This kid rolled her eyes. “We do that every night.”
I pulled back and gasped. “Are you saying you don’t like hanging out with your dear old dad?”
“I wanna hang out with Miss Cleo, Daddy. Do you think we can ask her to come over for dinner?”
Jesus, kid. Just put me on the spot, why don’t you?“Uh, probably not. I’m sure Miss Cleo already has plans.”
Charlie gave me a wild grin full of mischief. “But we can ask, can’t we, Daddy? And we can ask her to make some cookies?”
“You’re gonna make yourself sick with all the cookies,” I warned.
She just shrugged and said, “Worth it. They’resogood.”
“Alright, you little cookie monster. Anything else to add to your list of demands?” I asked, brow raised.
Charlie tapped her finger against her little chin, looking ten years older than she was. “Will you play music for me? On the guitar?”
Her eyes darted to the corner of my room where my old case sat. It was littered with stickers from small towns across the country and bands we’d opened for over the years. Inside was the same old instrument I’d played for Cleo a thousand times. Iwasn’t sure if it was sentimentality that led me to keep it, but it was one of my most prized possessions.
“Alright, baby girl. I think I can do that.”
She clapped before turning and throwing her arms around my neck. Her squeeze was tight enough I wondered if I was going to tap out, but she relented and sat back on her heels. “Can we leave early, Daddy? I wanna check on the birdies in the treehouse.”
My stomach clenched at the thought of facing that particular memory, but I ignored it. Now wasn’t the time to get cold feet about pursuing Cleo. Not when I could feel her walls crumbling bit by bit. Maybe I could talk to her this morning, try to figure out what had her running for the hills when we’d been so close to something. “Anything for you.”
The ranch was already packedwhen we arrived. It seemed like everyone had the same idea to show up early, which was pretty damn annoying considering the conversation I wanted to have with Cleo.
It didn’t take long to spot her. She was in the middle of an eager group of bouncing kids, laughing as they danced around her. She pointed toward the chuckwagon, where a familiar big, surly man with a thick beard was cooking breakfast. It smelled like fucking heaven. Bacon, eggs, and something sweet wafted through the air, covering the scent of horse shit that always hung around.
Casualties of living on a ranch, I suppose.
As though she could feel my stare, Cleo looked up. Her smile faltered as she saw me. I’m sure I looked like an idiot. When her eyes dropped to Charlie, who took off at a dead run in her direction, it returned. My daughter slammed into Cleo,knocking her slightly off balance with the force of her attention.
I couldn’t help but laugh, especially as Charlie seemed to mutter an apology before wrapping her arms around Cleo’s waist in a hug. She closed her eyes, basking in my daughter’s embrace before they stepped apart.
I took my time walking up, stuffing my hands in my pockets so as not to reach for her hand when I stepped up beside them. Cleo glanced at me from the corner of her eye and tucked her hair behind an ear, giving me a view of pink-tinged cheeks. “Morning,” she mumbled.
“Morning,” I said back, keeping my voice low. “How’re you feeling?”
Cleo winced. “Better than I deserve, probably. It was a… long night.”
