Page 108 of The Worst Possible Plan

“Daisy.”

I looked around the pasture, mentally taking attendance like I was somehow responsible for the world’s most dysfunctional preschool.

“And the donkey?”

She smiled through suspiciously watery eyes. “I haven’t figured that one out yet.” She shrugged. “Names are important. I don’t want to rush these things.”

I laughed, the kind that showed up before I had a chance to decide whether I was supposed to be acting like the sheriff or just…me.

But then, Sophie laughed too.

The sound floated across the pasture, light and warm and completely different from the tears she’d been fighting only moments earlier. It carried on the breeze for a second before disappearing, leaving behind the kind of quiet that somehow felt brighter than before.

Bandit looked between us and bleated once, probably because he felt left out.

Sophie rubbed one hand across her eyes before looking back at me and taking a slow breath first. “Why?”

I knew exactly what she meant. I looked out across the pasture, giving myself a second before answering. The new fence. Fresh lumber. The little shelter. Four animals already making themselves at home like they’d been here for years instead of roughly twenty-four hours. “I had the space.”

She watched me carefully. “That’s not an answer.”

My eyes followed the donkey as it wandered into the little barn and investigated a pile of fresh straw with serious concentration, like conducting an official inspection. “I’ve always liked animals. My grandfather had a farm. I spent every summer there growing up, mucking stalls before breakfast, tossing hay, filling water troughs, fixing fences that somehow always needed fixing.” I chuckled. “My grandfather used to say farm animals were honest. They didn’t care what you did for a living or whether you’d had a bad day. Give them food, clean water, shelter, and respect, and they’d trust you.”

My eyes darted to the barn, checking it the way my grandfather had taught me decades ago. Plenty of fresh straw. Good ventilation. No sharp nails sticking out. Water bucket in the right place. It wasn’t something I had to think about anymore. It was just… there, buried somewhere in muscle memory. “And my place has been really quiet for too long. I guess I got used to it. Doesn’t mean I had to like it.” I looked back at her. “And after meeting this bunch…”

Bandit picked that exact moment to headbutt the water bucket hard enough to tip it over. Water splashed everywhere.

I smiled. “I had a feeling things weren’t going to stay quiet.”

Sophie laughed again, a little easier this time, the sound lingering longer. She looked at me and said, “Thank you.”

“You don’t have to thank me.”

“Yes, I do,” she pressed.

Bandit had wandered over to Theo, nudging the alpaca’s leg until Theo finally acknowledged him with what looked like reluctant acceptance. Daisy stood nearby, pretending not to be part of the group while making absolutely no effort to walk away. Even the donkey had positioned himself close enough to keep an eye on everyone else.

“They’ve already sorted themselves out,” I said. “Animals do that. They decide who’s part of the herd.” I glanced at Bandit. “I figured it wasn’t my place to break that up.”

Sophie looked back toward the animals, her expression softening.

“I remembered what you said,” I told her. “You weren’t worried about yourself. You were worried about them.”

She looked down, a faint smile tugging at one corner of her mouth.

“I listened,” I said quietly. “Just a little later than I should’ve. I figured...” I looked back toward the pasture. “If I was going to do this, I should do it right.”

I stepped closer, close enough to see the tiny freckles across her nose and the way her eyes were still a little pink around the edges.

My fingers gently found hers where they rested against the fence, brushing against them first before threading between them.

She didn’t pull away.

“I didn’t just do it for them,” I said, keeping her close, my thumb brushing lightly across the back of her hand, almost without thinking.

Her eyes slowly lifted to meet mine.

I smiled and said, “I did it for you too.”