Single All the Way (Single Dads of Dragonfly Lake #2)

Chapter 6

Chapter Six

Ben

M y commute from the office was my sanity time, if there was such a thing for a single dad.

The quarter-of-a-mile walk from my clinic to my front door was an opportunity to transition from the fast-paced chaos of my thriving veterinary practice to the chaos of home. It was five minutes of serenity, five minutes of relative quiet in the countryside. A chance to breathe.

Today had been particularly hectic as we’d stuffed in a few extra appointments to make up for closing at noon tomorrow, the day before Thanksgiving. I liked to give my staff extra time for the holidays when I could, even if someone was always on call in case I needed assistance with an emergency.

I stepped out into the brisk, post-rain air, locked up behind me, and headed across the parking lot and down the paved driveway. Like always, I scanned my land, noting that the animals were secure in the barn where I’d left them this morning and nothing was out of place.

Lights burned in all the windows on this side of the house, telling me the inside was likely alive with noise and commotion. As I drew closer and could see beyond it, I noted Grandma Berty’s car in the driveway and wondered if Emerson’s was tucked into the garage.

I might be a crazy man, but the extra people in my house had a kernel of anticipation unraveling inside me.

As an introvert, I’d always sought out quiet and calm. Being a single dad was the literal opposite of quiet and calm, but kids changed a guy. Rearranged his priorities. Walking in that door and getting hugs was a highlight of my day. Seeing Emerson in my home was a new treat. It affected me whether I wanted it to or not.

The instant I walked inside, the aroma of Berty’s spaghetti sauce hit me. Seconds later, my younger daughter ran into my legs with an enthusiastic hug, Xavier right on her tail. Three dogs and one of the cats were next.

After I hugged both of the kids, patted each animal, and kissed Grandma Berty on the top of her wispy white-haired head, I turned and noticed Emerson at the dining table with Skyler. She was still wearing her work clothes—black leggings, black boots to her knees, and a fine-knit plum sweater that reached her midthighs. Her hair was pulled back in a loose, wavy ponytail at the middle of her head, a few dark strands draping around her face. Yep, that sight was definitely a treat, but I wouldn’t let myself get caught up in it.

Even after a long day on her feet at her salon, she looked pretty and put together. When she glanced up at me and smiled, though, I could see shadows of fatigue and worry in her eyes.

“Welcome home,” she said.

“Thanks. How’d it go today?” I nodded toward her daughter.

“Can you tell Dr. Ben about your day?” she said to Skyler.

“We made turkeys with our names on the feathers.” She held up a paper plate with paper feathers glued to it along with googly eyes and a beak. “And me and Grandma Berty made hearts until the big kids came home.”

“Your grandma is too good to be true,” Emerson said.

“I heard that,” Berty called out from the stove, where she was fiddling with the spices in her red sauce.

“It’s true,” I said back.

Yesterday when Emerson had shown up with her kids after school, she and my grandmother had apparently come to an agreement about whether Berty would watch Skyler and Xavier every day. I’d expected a battle between them, but Emerson told me later, in private, that Berty had won her over easily—too easily, in Emerson’s opinion—by explaining how the kids were the number one purpose and love in her life. She thrived on staying with them every day and said they kept her active and young. If Emerson didn’t see fit to entrust her babies to Berty, she’d be depriving my grandmother of the thing that meant the most to her: lively, happy children.

I had to hand it to Berty because it had worked, though I knew it was also the truth.

“Daddy, it’s cookie day!” Ruby galloped around me. “The llamas get their cookies tonight.”

I bit back a curse. “Bad news, Ruby Tuesday,” I said. “I forgot to buy cookies.”

“Miss Emerson got them,” my daughter said, hopping from one foot to the other.

I met Emerson’s gaze, and she nodded.

“Olivia said you hadn’t been in for your usual half dozen yesterday, so I bought a full dozen, knowing some humans would want to participate.” She stood and went into the kitchen. “They’re in the cabinet by the tea. I was afraid I might eat them if I could see them.” She took the bakery box out and handed it to me.

“You’re a lifesaver,” I said quietly.

“I could say the same,” she replied with a ghost of a grin. “We’re not remotely close to even.”

Evelyn entered the kitchen and said, “Hi, Dad!” She gave me a drive-by hug. “Can Xavier help me with the chickens again?” She walked to the mudroom to get her boots.

Xavier had asked if he could go with her this morning. I’d gone out with them to make sure Gordon didn’t have a problem with someone new in the chicken house. The rooster had behaved himself—he was actually a pretty good rooster once you got past his awful crowing—and Xavier had taken to the chore like a true farm kid.

“You want to help Evelyn again?” I asked him.

“Yes!” He jumped up with his fist in the air.

“As long as you go in calmly and do what Evelyn says.”

“Yes, sir,” he said more sedately.

“Your mom and Skyler and Ruby and I will be in the barn, feeding the llamas and horses.”

“Okay!” He rushed to join Evelyn in putting on shoes and a jacket.

As the two went out the door, Evelyn was already instructing him like a future boss lady, making me smile.

“You’re coming for cookie day, aren’t you?” I asked Emerson.

“I…guess so?”

“You might want to change into something less nice.”

“I’ll just watch from a distance.”

“Okay. Give me three minutes to change, and we’ll have cookie time.”

“Do we get cookies too, Mommy?” Skyler asked.

“We’ll save them for after our dinner,” I answered when Emerson looked to me.

I changed into barn clothes, and when I came downstairs, Ruby, Emerson, and Skyler had their jackets on.

“How long?” I asked Berty about dinner.

“Thirty minutes.”

“Let’s go,” I said.

Ruby took Skyler’s hand, and the two girls preceded Emerson and me out the door.

Emerson was quiet as we walked toward the barn.

“You okay?” I asked her, matching my pace to hers.

She took in a deep breath and looked up at the sky. “Fresh air seems…fresher out here.”

I noticed she hadn’t answered my question but let it go. “I can’t imagine moving back to town.”

“Do you ever take time to enjoy the peace out here?”

“As often as possible,” I said.

“Which I’m betting isn’t very often with two kids and your clinic.”

“I take it in little bits whenever I can. Walking to and from work. Feeding the animals. Sometimes when the weather’s nice, I sit out on the porch after the kids go to bed.”

She nodded but went quiet as we entered the barn. I was beginning to suspect she was afraid of either the horses or the llamas.

Smoky snorted, knowing it was time for his dinner. Bay stuck her nose eagerly over the gate of her stall.

“Hey, guys,” I said as we walked past the three horses. “Cookies first. You know the routine.”

Ahead of us, Skyler stopped, and Ruby kept going toward the llamas. Skyler’s eyes were wide as she gaped at the llamas, who were peeking out over their stall walls.

“They’re big, but they’re friendly,” I told her. “Especially when there’re cookies.”

Emerson came up behind her daughter and rubbed her head affectionately, looking uncertain herself.

Ruby already stood in front of Betty’s stall, her neck craning up at the gentle spotted animal. “Betty, we got the cookies!”

As I approached, Esmerelda hummed at me, or rather, at the treats I bore.

“Hey, ladies,” I said. “Yes, it’s cookie time.”

I realized Emerson and Skyler hadn’t moved any closer. I gestured for them to join me. Emerson ushered her daughter forward about three steps, and they stopped again.

“Come here, Sky. They won’t hurt you,” I promised. “I’d never put you in any kind of danger. You know that, right?”

She nodded silently.

“You want to help Dr. Ben?” Emerson asked.

As Ruby chattered to both the llamas, I bent down and coaxed Skyler to come to me. She finally let go of her mom’s hand and dashed over. I picked her up and handed her one of the cookies.

“This one’s for Esmerelda,” I said.

Skyler shook her head and ducked it into my neck.

“You want me to give it to her?”

She nodded.

“She won’t hurt us,” I repeated as I stepped to the stall.

Skyler hid her face against me.

“I’m about to hold it out to her. She’ll take it fast, so you have to watch if you don’t want to miss it.”

As soon as Skyler turned her head toward Esmerelda, I stretched my arm out to the white, long-haired princess. The llama took the cookie with her big teeth, then Skyler ducked into me again.

“Can I do Betty, Daddy?” Ruby asked.

“Here you go.” I handed her the second cookie, concerned about Skyler’s reaction and ongoing fear. I was confident Ruby knew what to do since she’d done it countless times. Betty was always gentle with my girls.

I turned to look at Emerson and realized she hadn’t moved since urging Skyler toward me. Like mother, like daughter?

I motioned with my head for her to come closer.

“I’m good,” Emerson said. “Don’t want to get my work clothes dirty.”

“You girls know llamas are really gentle and friendly, right?” I asked as I took Skyler back to her.

“Yes,” Emerson said. “They’re just…”

“Scary looking,” Skyler said.

“They’re not scary; they’re funny-looking and beautiful at the same time,” my daughter proclaimed as she pranced up to my side.

The llamas had downed their treats in no time.

“I wanna go to Mommy,” Skyler said, so I set her down. She rushed to her mom’s side.

Emerson bent down. “You okay, Sky?”

Her daughter nodded but looked about to cry. Emerson hugged her.

“Horses are next,” Ruby explained. “You want to see the horses, don’t you, Skyler?”

Skyler looked toward the horse side of the barn and nodded, looking somewhat relieved. Ruby again took her hand, and they marched toward Smoky’s stall. Skyler glanced over her shoulder one more time at the llamas, as if to ensure they weren’t coming after her.

“They’re locked in their stalls, sweetie,” I said. “They know they have to wait for the horses to get fed before they get their dinner.”

“More cookies?” Skyler asked in a small voice.

With a chuckle, I said, “Just like people, they have to eat mostly healthy food. They only get two cookies a week.”

“On Tuesdays and Saturdays,” Ruby said.

“Are you afraid of horses too?” I asked Emerson in a low voice. I wasn’t throwing her shade. It was obvious her unease was real and something I hoped to help her work through soon, as, well, she was living with llamas for the next few weeks.

“Not afraid,” she said, her gaze taking in Smoky, who was a big guy but gentle. “Just…intimidated? They’re big and strong.”

“When I adopted these guys”—I swept an arm out in an encompassing gesture—“all of them, my priority was that they had a gentle disposition. My kids are around them every day, so I needed to trust any animal I brought home.”

She tilted her head. “They’re animals. Animals are unpredictable.”

“They can be, and you always have to remember that. But first you start with animals who have a gentle disposition. Some horses are projects. They’ve had a rough life or gone through poor treatment. Those need homes too, but that’s not what I wanted with Ruby and Evelyn around. Second thing is to build a trusting relationship with each of them, just as you would with a human.”

“Do you trust Esmerelda not to break out and head to the bakery anymore?” she asked, her lips twitching toward a grin.

“We’re working on that,” I said with a laugh. “That’s part of the reason I broke down and started buying her cookies—in moderation. There’s usually a reason for animal behaviors, just like there is for people. It just might be harder to figure out because they don’t answer questions.”

Ruby and Skyler had stopped a few feet in front of Smoky’s stall, my daughter sensing Skyler wasn’t ready to get closer.

I held my hand out toward the horses and raised my brows at Emerson. She hesitated only a second, then nodded and stepped toward her daughter. I fell in beside her and, without thinking, put a hand at her waist to comfort her.

Comfort was not the word I’d use for what shot through me at the feel of her curves beneath my fingers.

Dammit. I needed to be cautious and keep myself in check. That was tricky though, because Emerson was so familiar.

I’d known her for most of my life. Moving her and her kids into my house had been a no-brainer, a gut instinct, because I cared about her. Keeping attraction out of the equation, when Blake had fallen in love with her and eventually married her, she’d become important to me in a different but deep way, as the person who made my best friend happy.

I let go of her, reminding myself I needed to be more mindful of boundaries when we were together. She was a house guest. A good friend, yes. But also my best friend’s partner.

Skyler had stepped closer to Smoky, with Ruby at her side. Not close enough to touch, but her interest was clear. This was night-and-day from how she’d acted with the llamas, and I got it. Llamas looked odd, and that could frighten a child. Or a woman, apparently.

“Would you like to meet Smoky?” I asked Skyler.

With her neck craned to look up at the horse, she nodded slowly.

I picked her up and approached Smoky carefully, talking in a low voice, introducing Skyler and her mother. Eventually Skyler worked up the courage to pet Smoky on the neck. She giggled, then told her mom about her bravery even though Emerson could see everything. She too had come closer.

I eventually set Skyler down, and Ruby and I fed the five large animals and the barn cats, with the Estes ladies looking on.

When we exited the barn, the girls were animated, Skyler’s mood the opposite of when we’d entered. She’d met all three horses, though briefly. It was a first step. The llamas would be more of a process.

Emerson and I walked side by side toward the house. The temperature was nearing the freezing point, the air crisp but fresh.

“Sky did well with the horses,” I said.

Emerson nodded. “I’m proud of her. She’ll want to ride them before long, just wait. The llamas though… That’s a different story.”

I let several seconds pass before I spoke. “She can read your fear of them, you know.”

“You think?”

“I know. The best way to help her overcome her fear is to conquer yours.”

She narrowed her eyes at me. “I don’t want to get spit on.”

“The odds of getting spit on are tiny. Llamas spit when they’re threatened. We’re their friends, the people who feed them.”

“And give them cookies.”

“Exactly.”

“So I can’t just stay out of the barn for the next month?” she asked, a lightness in her tone suggesting she wasn’t serious.

I shook my head. “In fact, the best thing to do would be to put on some old clothes and help me feed them in the morning. Once you get to know Betty and Esmerelda, I think you’ll like them.”

“I’d rather cook breakfast for everyone.”

“We can cook together. It’ll go fast.”

“I’ll…think about it.”

“It would help your daughter,” I said.

“You don’t play fair.”

“Never claimed to.” I grinned as we reached the house. “Getting your daughter used to the animals will help her settle in overall, don’t you think?”

“You’re right.”

“First step is you. We got this,” I told her. “Everything’ll be okay.”