Page 180 of That Rush

Aiden

On Friday morning, I’m packing sandwiches when I hear the back door open—a sound I shouldn’t hear unless someone has a key. Josie looks up from the kitchen table, where she is drawing a picture of Sprinkle wearing a crown and work boots.

“Who is that?”

“Someone with a key.”

Paige steps inside carrying two coffees and a paperback. Her hair is pulled into a ponytail. She’s traded her usual dress for jeans, hiking boots, and a fitted gray shirt. Forgetting my daughter is three feet away is suddenly, unnecessarily difficult.

Josie abandons the drawing and runs to her. “You came!”

“I said I would.”

“You used your key.”

“I’m conducting a trial.”

I take the coffee she holds out to me and kiss her. “How’s the trial going?”

“Well, the door opened. So far, so good.”

“You could’ve stayed at the cabin and read.”

“I know.” Her eyes hold mine. “I chose this.”

Satisfaction settles inside me, solid as a well-set post.

Josie tugs on Paige’s hand. “We have chores.”

“You have chores,” I say.

“She can help.”

Paige looks at me. “Can I?”

“Yes.”

“With something useful. Do not invent a decorative librarian position.”

“You can help Josie refill the water trough while I check the horses.”

“That sounds a lot like free labor.”

“I’ll provide lunch.”

“I brought the coffee.”

“I’m calling it a fair partnership.”

Her mouth curves. “Strong opening argument.”

Paige wrestles the hose into place with Josie, both of them laughing when the nozzle sprays wide. She closes gates behind us without needing reminders and stays out of the way when I bring two horses through the narrow aisle. She does what’s useful, never what’s designed to prove she belongs here. Paige helps Josie drag the hose into place, closes gates behind us without needing reminders, and stays out of the way when I bring two horses through the narrow aisle. She does what’s useful, never what’s designed to prove she belongs here.

When Josie gets distracted trying to convince a barn cat to sit in her lap, Paige takes the brush from her and finishes the mare’s coat.

“You’ve done this before,” I say.

“You took me riding.”