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The tiny voice belonged to the fragile girl who rounded the corner. Her blond ponytail had been mussed, and a few strands of curls flopped in her dark brown eyes.
“Baby!” John scooped her up, and she wrapped her little arms around his neck and peppered him with kisses. He returned them.
It was crystal clear he’d stolen her heart long ago.
Stella squished his cheeks with her little chubby hands. “I missed you.”
“I missed you too,” he said through fish lips, and she giggled then whispered, “I feel better.”
“Good. You want to meet my friend?”
Stella suddenly realized they weren’t alone, and she dipped her chin, peering up at Violet from underneath her lashes. She was a beautiful child, favoring mostly John.
“This is Miss Violet.”
“Hello,” Stella said shyly.
“Hello. Nice to meet you.” What did one say to a preschooler upon introduction? “I’m glad you feel better.”
She hid in the side of John’s neck. Not a bad place to be.
“Miss Violet catches bad guys like Daddy.” He met Violet’s eyes. “She’s very good at it.”
Why did everything he now said feel as though it held hints of underlying meaning?
Stella perked up. “I’m gonna catch bad guys too when I gets big.”
Violet awkwardly shifted her weight to the other foot. Bad guy thieving her panties? No problem. Making conversation with a four-year-old? Debilitating.
“You wanna see my jail? I made a jail to puts the bad guys in.” She wiggled in John’s arms, and he set her down. Stella grabbed Violet’s hand and tugged her toward the front of the house. She glanced at John, unsure of what to do, and he winked his approval for her to go play.
But he didn’t come along.
Unfair.
Inside a boy’s room were pillows that had been stacked in a square and what looked like old wrapping-paper rolls propped against the front like bars. Clever. Imaginative. Plastic handcuffs and a holster on a matching belt rested on the bottom bunk bed.
“Brannon never lets me be sheriff, but when he’s outside, I gets to be the sheriff.” She wrapped the belt around her tiny waist, but her slender fingers fumbled. Violet squatted and helped her fasten it.
“Girls can be sheriffs too. You’ll be a good one.”
Stella stared intently at Violet and then offered one resolute nod. “I will be. You gots a gun?”
“I do.”
“You ever shoots a bad guy?”
She had.
“Have you?” Redirection usually worked on adults, hopefully it would on a child. Stella Orlando didn’t need to know about Violet’s shots.
“I shot Brannon.”
Violet snickered. “For telling you girls can’t be sheriffs?”
She nodded again and curls bobbed.
Violet helped her adjust the belt and get the holster set on her hip. “You know, us girls have to be smart.” She tapped Stella’s temple. “We can’t be shooting people simply because we don’t like what they say. Good sheriffs have a cool head under pressure.”
