“Let’s go fill out the paperwork. When do you want her delivered?”
“I’m not sure. Let me see how this shakes out.”
“Got it. I’d like to see the boy’s face when Cinnamon arrives. Maybe I can bring her over.”
“You should. He’s going to be ecstatic.”
“You should be in on the joy, too.” A wish she held in her heart, but it was up to Joe.
“Her name is Cinnamon. It matches her coloring.”
After she completed all the paperwork, she drove home thinking about how to tell Joe what she did. Since he wanted his son to be happy, she was betting he’d accept the pony. If he didn’t, Scarlet would keep her and when the collective was no longer under siege, Seth could ride him at her place. She decided to send them the paperwork and a note today, so Joe had time to think it over.
She sat down with chamomile tea and as it steamed beside her, she wrote the missive. Then she opened the paperwork and found Abe had included a picture of Cinnamon. The foal was beautiful, with a warm reddish-brown coat with white blazes which stood out against the rich base color. She giggled. How could Joe resist her?
She called one of the cowhands that came in to tend to Stanley and the stall a few hours a day. “Hey, Jake. On your way out today, could you drop something off for me at the farm across the street?”
“Joe’s place?”
“Yeah.”
“Sure. Be by in an hour.”
“I appreciate this.”
“No problem, Ms. Scarlet. No problem at all.”
Hmm, she thought. She hoped this was no problem for Joe, too.
* * *
Joe had waffled between absolute joy at his time with Scarlet yesterday and frustration that it was a one-time thing, for now at least.
“What’s wrong, Dad?” Seth asked after he’d changed out of his school clothes into shorts and a T-shirt. The weather was still warm and sunny as it was early September.
“What do you mean?”
“I saw you for a minute from the doorway. You were sad when I came in. And a little mad.”
“Nah. I’m not sad.”
Seth pouted. “Wish you’d tell me the truth.”
Joe was sick of pretending anyway. And the kid was right about his mood. “I miss Scarlet.”
“Me, too. Is she still in danger?”
“I think so. But she’s got guards to protect her.”
“She should come and live here so we can take care of her.”
Joe pushed back the boy’s dark hair that hung onto his forehead. He was due for a trim. “She needs more than us to protect her.” He stood. “You can watch some TV in here while I cook dinner.”
“’kay.”
Joe went to the kitchen. He prepared a hot meal for them most nights. He wished this was pizza night, though, because he didn’t feel like cooking. Maybe he’d make hamburgers on the grill and French fries from the freezer. He had his hands in theground meat when the doorbell chimed. “Could you get that, Seth?”
“Okay,” the boy called out.
