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Both of them stare at me with identical angry faces, blonde hair and eyes like their mother.
Sasha tries to scoop Maggie up into her arms, but at six years old, she’s too big to be held. Maggie wiggles against her, complaining and giggling at the same time. “It’s a good thing Ivan likes peppermints so you can each give him one,” Sasha tells her, reaching over to tickle Joey who seems angry at being left out.
I love seeing Sasha with our girls, teaching them all about the horses, this land, and their responsibilities. These girls are so lucky to grow up here in this beautiful place.
I pick Joey up and place her on the fence, pulling a mint from my pocket to give to her. Sasha helps Maggie up onto the fence next to Joey.
“Hold your hand out,” I instruct both Maggie and Joey.
I place a mint in each of their palms, and Ivan doesn’t know which one to take first. When he goes for Joey’s hand, Maggie protests, her little body contorting in anger, and the mint goes flying into the dirt. She kicks off from the fence, fearless, and lands in the dirt right next to the mint.
“She gets the sass from you,” I tease, as I slide my eyes over to Sasha who shakes her head at me.
Eight years later, and she still takes my breath away.
“Joey always gets everything first!” Maggie pouts.
“Now that’s not true.” I kneel down to eye level with her, resting my forearm on my thigh.
“She was the first one to come out of mommy’s tummy,” Maggie points out accusatorially at her sister who is used to her outbursts and pays no attention to her. Instead Joey giggles as Ivan chomps on the mint.
I look up at Sasha who’s covering her mouth to stifle a laugh. Joey is six minutes older, and apparently Maggie knows all about it.
“Second’s not so bad, and when you get older, you’ll like being the younger one,” I tease.
“Daaaaaad!” she whines and rolls her eyes.
“Here.” Pulling a peppermint from my pocket, I plop it into her hand. “Now be patient and let him take it from you.”
I lift her up onto the fence again, holding on while she waits for Ivan to come over and take it from her. When he does, she giggles and wipes the slobber onto her pajama pants.
“Last one to the treehouse is a rotten egg!” Joey tears off down the dirt path, and Maggie jumps off the fence, hot on her trail.
I lean against the fence, watching as they run towards the playhouse I built for them last year. Sasha circles her arm around my waist, and I pull her into me. She takes the old Kodak camera I gave her all those years ago and snaps a few pictures of the girls.
“Do you always have to have that camera with you?” I ask her, smiling at the inside joke.
“Jealous of a camera?”
I brush my nose against hers. “I’m jealous of anything that gets to spend twenty-four-seven with you.”
I kiss her, and it’s like the first time all over again. I thought this feeling would pass or change over the years, but it’s the same thrill that sends an ache deep down into my bones because I love her now just as much as I loved her when we first met. She gave me something I never thought I would have… a family.
If someone told me I would be living on a ranch, married to a cowgirl, and raising twin girls, I would have told them they were crazy, but here I am, and I wouldn’t have had it any other way. I had to wait a long time for this, but it was worth the wait.Shewas worth the wait.
Sasha bends down and plucks a purple cornflower from the grass and twirls it between her fingers. “Grandma Jo always liked spring best when the wildflowers bloomed.”
She tips it to her nose and inhales, closing her eyes. God, she is more beautiful now than when she was twenty-three. I don’t know what she sees in an old man like me, but I treat every day like the gift it is.
John died from a heart attack just after the girls were born. Sasha was devastated, Jolene was heartbroken, and the ranch was in jeopardy. It wasn’t something Jolene could manage on her own; so we decided to move into the house and help take care of her and the property. She hadn’t been in good health for a while, and with John’s passing, she seemed to give up, but stuck around as long as she could to see the girls grow up. She joined John just last year, but both of them live on in the legacy of this place, just as our girls will for us in the future. At least the girls have Peter who visits often, and of course their godparents Jack and Erin, as well as their honorary uncles, Wade, and Adam. Dylan loves to come visit horses and boss Maggie and Joey around, as much as they’ll allow it.
The ranch is close to the record store, and I hired a manager to be there full time so I can be here with my girls. Sasha started doing freelance photography after leaving the L.A. Times a few years ago. Her photography series on the graffiti art got national attention, and the city created an art program that Gabriel gets to be involved in.
We started looking into making the ranch a sanctuary which is what she has always wanted to do. Her connections and photography skills have been helpful to get attention and donations. It’s still a long way from becoming operational, but at least it’s a start.
I pluck the flower from Sasha’s hand and tuck it behind her ear. Resting my forehead against hers, I wrap my arms tight around her. There’s no music, but we move back and forth to a tune in my head.
"It’s not the kitchen but this will do,” she says cryptically.
