Finally, Jeremy called the congregation to stand and prepare for the first hymn. As the music began, Heather felt Lyle’s presence beside her, firm and grounding, like the promises woven through the rhythm of the hymn.
Charlotte swayed beside them, her tiny frame captured in the moment—as if the worries of the past several months had melted away into something peaceful and powerful. She appeared to be handling this much better than her uncles, giving a little wave to her friends who sat two rows away on the opposite side.
As the congregation sang in unison, Lyle slipped his hand into Heather's, fingers intertwining with a simple, steady warmth that made her heart flutter wildly.
She squeezed his hand in understanding, leaned into him and felt him begin to ease.
Normally, Charlotte would have been in her Sunday School class with the kids her age during the main service, but the teacher for her class was out sick today. Thankfully, Heather had come prepared and Charlotte was quietly coloring carefully inside the lines of a daisy and smiling bumble bee.
After the sermon concluded, Jeremy shared some announcements, touching on events for the week, including the meal train they were putting together for the Reynolds family—their daughter was hospitalized after a bike accident, then closed the service with a short prayer.
As the congregation began to disperse, Charlotte thrust the coloring book back at Heather and bounced to her feet. "Uncle Lyle, can Emma and Ruby come home with us and see the puppies?"
"Well, I don't know, squirt. We'd have to ask their parents. But first, I think there might be some donuts or fried chicken to eat.”
“Okay. Can I go sit with them?”
“Sure. Take off.”
Charlotte darted away and Joe moved up beside them. “She seemed to handle that well,” he said.
“Yes,” Lyle agreed. “It’s hard to know how much she’s holding inside, though.”
“Let’s don’t be borrowing extra trouble,” Heather said. “Six-year-olds are pretty resilient.”
Lyle reached for Heather’s hand. She had a thought to pull back, but didn’t.
“Thanks for holding me up today,” he said softly.
She smiled. “Any time, cowboy.” She glanced around, noted that several people were watching them with barely restrained curiosity—her brother included. She gave a small shrug and ignored everyone except these four staunch Watkins men. Lyle in particular.
Because, somewhere among the delicate echoes of prayer and laughter—not to mention that kiss the other day--Heather found herself opening up to the possibility of love once again.
Lyle was nothing like Bret. He was kind. And good. And decent. He made her dream of a future. Of a family.
Perhaps it was time to pick up the pieces of her heart. She still couldn’t guarantee he was here to stay. But she could hope.
The following weeks had a peculiar rhythm as the days blended into ones filled with laughter and busyness. Heather found herself spending more time with Lyle and Charlotte, having established somewhat of a routine surrounding the puppies and their unyielding energy.
As she’d suspected, Holly proved her maternal, well-behaved skills and was happy to sleep over at Lyle’s, the gentle retriever keeping the puppies warm and calm until they’d adjusted and were able to sleep on their own without crying all night.
Every afternoon, Heather welcomed the four little fur balls into her training center, establishing a nurturing environment where they’d grow stronger and more comfortable around humans. Not that they had any lack in that area. Between the cowboys, Lyle's brothers and the ranch guests, there was always a willing pair of hands to cradle, play and teach. As promised, Charlotte was a huge help, keeping track of feeding schedules and helping Heather with their basic socialization.
Caring for these four rescue puppies had been so good for Charlotte.
But tonight, they would be attending their very first adoption event at the shelter. Heather knew that once the puppies met potential adoptive families, there was no going back. That was the downside of fostering. Getting attached. And she knew that Charlotte was attached. It was always hard for Heather to let her rescues go. And she was an adult. She just wasn't sure how a six-year-old was going to cope.
Dressed in a simple sundress with a light sweater to shield against the cooling evening air, Heather felt butterflies flit about in her stomach as she double-checked the supplies she’d packed.
“Miss Heather?” Charlotte’s small voice echoed through the cabin, sounding breathless with anticipation. “Can you help me put on Pepper's vest?”
“Of course, sweetheart.” She’d only just turned when she saw Charlotte cradling the small black-and-white puppy that they’d affectionately named Pepper.
Charlotte carried the excited little dog toward Heather, wearing an expression of unswerving determination that made Heather smile. "There you go, sweetie," she crooned to the little dog. "Let's get you all dressed."
Heather knelt and carefully slipped the little vest around the puppy’s torso, securing the straps with familiarity. “Make sure you hold on tight so Pepper doesn’t wiggle away once we’re there.”
“Okay!” Charlotte bounced slightly. “I’m going to show everyone how good she is at finding things!” Pepper was a smart, eager little student when it came to training.
