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“Thanks,” I say, skeptical of her tone. It’s not that it’s mean-spirited or anything, but it doesn’t sound entirely serious either. There’s something more up her sleeve and another comment to come, I can tell. I’m just not sure what it is yet.

“Pretty soon, I think I’m going to be able to give the Welcome to Shaw Springs speech myself. A couple more run-throughs, and I think I’ll know it word for word.”

“Makes sense. You Hollywood types are good at learnin’ scripts.”

“Me? You’re the one following a playbook here, buddy. Maybe you’re the one who’s made for Hollywood, and you don’t want to admit it for fear that it’ll jeopardize your manhood.”

“Listen, darlin’, my manhood’s just fine. I’d say I’d prove it to ya, but I’m pretty sure you’d object.”

Her eyes go wide, and I can’t help but chuckle.

“Relax, Leah. I don’t think there’s much chance of me droppin’ my pants here in the middle of the lodge lawn.”

Her throat bobs with her swallow, and a pang of awareness ricochets around my chest. Fuck.

Desperate to distract myself from my hormones, I keep talking. “Truth is, if I don’t follow a script, I start to lose sight of how new this is for these folks every time. It’s old hat for me, but if I don’t give ’em all the details, they’ll be out there in the pasture tryin’ to do aerobics with the horses.”

“Ha-ha,” she mocks. “Very funny.”

“The truth always makes for the best jokes, don’t it?”

I expect her to laugh back at me, maybe even resort to a little innocent violence, but instead, she seems preoccupied. Finally, she glances over her shoulder quickly, obviously checking the area for something, before venturing, “I know it’s none of my business…but that woman before…in the lodge… Who is she?”

“Which one?” I avoid, but Leah just shakes her head.

“Rhett. You know which one.”

“Her name is Anna,” I say carefully, scanning the area myself to make sure Joey hasn’t snuck up on us before I speak. “And she’s Josephine’s birth mother.”

“That’s Josephine’s mama?”

“No, darlin’. Ain’t nothin’ ‘mama’ about her. But she is the one I got pregnant and the one who popped Joey out in the hospital. It’s just that, for Anna, that’s the moment when her obligation and responsibility ended.”

“Has Joey ever met her? Does she know who she is?” she asks rapid-fire, her mouth moving a mile a minute.

“She blows through town once a year—twice maybe, if Kanab is on the pro circuit—but when she does, the last thing on her mind is Joey.” I glance at my daughter as she bursts through the doors of the lodge, an ice pack raised high above her head in a proud display. “My Joey’s smart, and I’ve done my best to explain the situation to her, so I’d say she knows. But the last damn thing I’m gonna do is force my girl on someone who doesn’t want her and break her heart even more. Over my dead fuckin’ body.”

Leah nods enthusiastically. “I agree. As long as she has the tools to make her decision for herself when she’s older and you don’t actively keep her away from her mother, letting the natural pace of contact take shape is the best way to go. I can tell you,” she continues with a tone that reeks of personal experience, “a forced relationship with a parent is definitely not better than no relationship at all.”

There’s a story there, one I desperately want to ask her about, but I know now isn’t the time. Frankly, today and tomorrow aren’t really the time for much of anything. It’s, hands down, the busiest time of year at Shaw Springs, and it takes more than enough hours and mental capacity on its own.

I don’t need to be delving into Dr. Leah Levee’s family history—and I need to be diving into the things she’s making me feel even less.

“I got the ice!” Joey shouts enthusiastically, coming to a panting stop beside us and holding out the medical packet.

Leah takes it gratefully and smiles at Joey. “Man, that was fast, Jo-Jo! I swear, you’re definitely the fastest person on this ranch.”

“Really? I kind of felt like it took me a while this time.”

“Are you kidding? I barely even had time to blink!”

Joey’s eyes widen in wonder, and if I could see my own, I can’t guarantee they wouldn’t be doing the same.

Comparison, when it comes to yourself, is the thief of joy. My mama always said it, and now that I’m older, I know she got it from Theodore Roosevelt.

But what neither of them accounted for in their saying is that sometimes, when you’re looking at two people outside of yourself, comparison doesn’t steal. In fact, it gives the gift of clarity.

Leah Levee isn’t an uppity girl with a too-good-for-you attitude like Anna Morrow.

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