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“Hi, Case!”
“Hey, it’s Little Sutton! Skipping school?”
Winnie gives a frustrated grunt as she slams her door behind her with her hip. “Apparently, it’s a teachers’ planning day.”
Another one?I turn to Garrett. “So they plan, and you get to come hang out with us?”
“Something like that,” Winnie mutters, even though I wasn’t asking her. Before I can respond, offer a muffin, or anything, she’s already storming off to the stables.
“Jesse never came home last night.” Garrett lags behind to update me. “So Winnie drew the short straw.”
Her honesty throws me, and it takes me a beat to recover. “First of all, I think you meant to say Winniedrew the golden ticket. You did, too, for that matter, becauuuuuuse”—I raise the basket between us and nod toward the stable—“Miss Kerry has baked us some of her special lemon poppy seed muffins!”
“Ohhh,” Garrett says. Her tone is soft and wistful, and I warm at the expression on her young face.Well played, Kerry.“Winnie and I both love lemon poppy seed.”
“Then it’s fate. You’re meant to be here to help me eat all of these today.”
We make our way to the stables, and I lift a flap followed by a plaid kitchen towel, holding the basket under Winnie’s nose. The magical pull of sugary sweetness softens her expression immediately.
“Are those lemon poppy seed?”
“See? The day’s already looking up.”
She grabs a muffin, immediately diving in. “I forgot breakfast,” she admits.
“Take two, then. Three. However many you need. There’s more than enough here. It’s like Kerry woke up and decided to bake for an entire football team.”
Garrett giggles, reaching for her own and taking a giant bite. I know, these girls aren’t starving. They have food at home. But I’m also aware Winnie skips meals when she’s busy—and she’s busy all the time—and no one is making sure she is taking care of herself. Ergo, I feel like I should take care of her.
(With baked goods my housekeeper made, because I’m a douchecanoe, but still.)
(Note to self: Buy something nice for Kerry and convince her to make more muffins.) (Orbetter yet, maybe ask her to teach me how to make muffins so I am less of a douchecanoe.)
I swear I can feel the rush of air against my face as Ghost Walker gestures wildly at me as if he’s saying,See? Growth!
We fill up on the muffins, and Winnie passes the empty basket to her sister. “Hey, Garre, take this back to Miss Kerry at the big house and make sure you say thank-you for the treat. Let her know how delicious it was.”
“You got it,” Garrett says, rushing off, long dark braids streaming behind her.
Winnie turns to me, but before she can open her mouth, I say, “Whatever you’re going to freak out about, don’t.”
She wilts. “I’m going to lose my job. I can’t bring my little sister to work with me! I can’t babysit while I’m supposed to be taking care of the horses,andI have a trail ride this afternoon. It’s a private tour with another rich family who will not be cool with my little sister tagging along and chirping facts about quantum physics.”
I clamp down on my smile. “You’re not going to lose your job.”
“This is twice now I’ve had to bring my sister with me. It’s so unprofessional!”
“Yeah,” I say dryly, “because this place is the height of professionalism. You’re not going to lose your job,” I repeat. “You aren’t going to babysit while you work, and you aren’t going to take her with you on the trail ride even though I sort of wonder if Mr. Schneider would be into a discussion about quantum physics. Doesn’t matter.” I wave her off. “Garrett would hate it.”
Winnie’s eyes bug out and her nostrils flare, and I probably shouldn’t find it attractive, but I do. A little scary, sure, but attractive nevertheless. I cut her off before flames start pouring out of her eyeballs.
“As much as I would love to see that temper of yours explode, hold on. I’m not dismissing your worries. I’m trying to tell you I volunteer as babysitter. Though…” I pause and consider, scratching at my early-morning scruff. “Isbabysitterthe correct term? For a genius ten-year-old? She could probably teach me a few things. Tutor me in trigonometry. Improve my riding form. Build a working wind turbine out of Popsicle sticks.”
Winnie blinks. “You want to watch her?”
“Sure.”
“You?”
