The Parent Playbook (Love on Thin Ice)

9. Angel

CHAPTER 9

ANGEL

H appy Horizons Ranch is less a scene of pastoral tranquility and more a testament to what two determined, if slightly delirious, individuals can accomplish on no sleep.

Crouching by the plumbing line behind the barn, Scotty passes me a wrench. “So, any idea what the mysterious blockage could be?”

“I’m betting on Edgar,” I reply, squinting into the exposed pipe. “He has a notorious habit of hiding things where they absolutely do not belong.”

Scotty wipes his brow. “Pfft, what hasn’t that goat gotten into?”

“Yesterday, it was my lunch,” I add, grunting as I loosen a particularly stubborn section of pipe. “Ah, here we go. Brace yourself. It could be anything.”

We both lean in as I slowly pull apart the pipe junction. Suddenly, a deluge of water spurts out, followed by an assortment of small, shiny objects. Coins, washers, and—yes, a very chewed-up looking baseball cap.

“I knew I should have put a tighter cover on the evacuation line. Looks like Edgar’s collected a treasure trove,” I say, plucking the sopping cap from the muck.

Scotty laughs, holding up a coin. “Or trying to start his own savings account. You think he’s saving up for a big vacation?”

“Or tuition for mischief school,” I fire back, tossing the cap to the side. “He’s got to be top of his class.”

Ah, ranch life. Plumbing repairs are one thing, but plumbing repairs plus goat-induced treasure hunts? That’s Happy Horizons special.

Scotty nudges me with his elbow. “What’s got you grinning? Found something valuable in there?”

“I was thinking about how my job description never mentioned diving for prizes in plumbing lines,” I reply. “Think I could put that on my application to the Charities Program?”

“Definitely.” Scotty laughs as he fishes out what looks suspiciously like one of my missing socks. “Plumber, goat wrangler, and treasure hunter. You’re a triple threat, Angel.”

We tidy up, the air filled with comfortable silence after a night of intense labor. It feels like we’ve been doing this forever and not just one night.

“Almost done,” I announce, “but where did I put that …”

Rope , I don’t get a chance to say. One step backward onto a rogue coil of said rope sends my balance off-kilter. The world tilts dangerously backward, and right as I’m mentally preparing for a bruising introduction to the barn floor, Scotty’s arms are around me, pulling me against him in a firm grip.

“Found it,” I whisper into his chest.

His hold is secure, a little too close for casual, and I can feel the solid press of his body against mine. We stay this way for a moment too long, his chest solid against my back, his breath warm against my cheek. I can feel his heartbeat through the thin fabric of his shirt, fast and strong. The smell of him—sawdust and something distinctly man —fills my senses, and for a fleeting moment, I let myself be held .

“Gotcha,” Scotty says, his voice a low rumble, as he gently sets me upright.

I turn to face him, my cheeks hot in a way that feels too much like high school butterflies. “Guess I need to watch where I’m stepping.” The words tumbling out as I try to get my feet under me.

His eyes crinkle in the corners as his arms hold me like I’m worth the world. “Or maybe I need to stick around to be your personal safety net.”

My heart is racing—more from the sudden closeness than the fall, but I’d rather wrestle Edgar than admit that. I laugh despite myself, because that’s better than the alternative of saying something I might regret. Such as Why don’t you hold me like this forever?

“Say, we only have a few hours before the day really begins. Don’t you have hockey things to do?”

Scotty smiles as he picks up a stray screwdriver from the ground. “Sure, but it can wait. Seems like you’re the one slip-sliding today.”

“Ba-doom-ching,” I air-play the drums.

We finish tidying up, but there are these small touches—the brush of his hand as he passes me a tool, the quick smiles—that go on a little longer than necessary. It’s a bit awkward, my breath is shallow, and I’m both loving and hating every second.

“I’m gonna have to get going,” Scotty says in a voice that does not at all sound like he has to get going, but he gathers up some tools into the box and shoves his hands in his pockets. “I’ll make my way out.”

“Thanks, Scotty,” I say, meaning it more than I probably should. “For everything.”

He nods with an easy-going smile in the light of the new day. “Anytime, Angel. You know where to find me.”

As he walks away, I’m left with a strange tightness in my chest that feels suspiciously like regret, like I should be saying something more. Or it’s just exhaustion. Either way, I watch him go, the memory of his quick reflexes—and quicker smile—lingering like the last notes of a song that’s ended too soon.

Oh, no . The man has made me poetic .

I touch my chest, feeling my heartbeat slowly return to normal, and cackle to myself. “Get it together, Angel. You need coffee, not complications.”

If only I believed that.

Dragging my weary body back to the house after bidding Scotty goodbye, I’m bracing myself for the usual morning scramble of getting Andy out of bed. However, today is running by a different script. I push open his door, only to find him already up, standing in front of his mirror, meticulously brushing his hair.

“Well, this is a new development.” I lean against the doorframe with a raised eyebrow. Here’s my chance to test the waters. “What’s the occasion? A girl you like?”

Andy shoots me a look in the mirror, one eyebrow cocked in a perfect mimic of my usual expression. “Seriously, Mom? I’m twelve. It’s not about that.”

I stifle a laugh, pushing off from the doorway to walk over and ruffle his already smooth hair. “Okay, okay. So what’s the special event?”

He dodges my hand, smoothing his hair back into place with a sigh of exasperation that seems too mature coming from him. “I’m picking up Lil for school, and I’ve got a presentation today.”

“Oh?” I perk up, both intrigued and amused. “On what, rooftop aerodynamics for pigeons?”

“No, Mom.” He rolls his eyes, the corners of his mouth twitching in a reluctant smile. “Soil preservation. It’s important.”

“Of course, the soil,” I nod solemnly. “Much more grounded. Pardon the pun.”

Andy snatches his backpack, slinging it over one shoulder. “Gotta go. Can’t keep Lil waiting. You don’t know how she gets about tardiness. ”

Watching him dash out with a newfound sense of responsibility, whispering only to myself. “Guess you’re not such a little boy anymore, huh?”

The thought makes my knees weak and I lean against the wall.

“Hey, Andy!” I call out, just before he’s out the door.

He pauses, half-turning.

“Knock ’em dead with the soil talk. And Andy?”

I don’t know why I feel this need to keep him around, if only for a little longer. I can suddenly imagine him being grown up, living his life and trying to change the world somewhere far from Maple Falls.

He turns around, eyes wide. “Yeah?”

“Thanks for being you.”

He grins, the kind that’s all gums and mischievous sparkle. “I don’t know how to be anyone else. Love you! See you later!”

As the door shuts behind him, I slide down to sit on the floor, suddenly overwhelmed by the whirlwind of the morning—from barn repairs to maternal revelations.

I need a nap, but these repairs wait for no woman.

I’m deep into reviving the sun-bleached welcome signs when laughter floats over from the paddocks. There, under the lazy afternoon sun, a young boy with his trusty oxygen tank is perched atop our most forgiving pony, Chester. The kid’s laughing like he’s on top of the world, not the back of a pony.

I watch the boy take another triumphant lap from my perching place against the fence, his guardian offering me a grateful nod that’s worth more than any paycheck. It’s moments like these that recharge my batteries, though my body votes for a nap.

By mid-afternoon, my body is shouting for a break, but my brain’s got a different agenda. I’m plotting a makeshift fix for our pathetic excuse of a duck pond liner when the crunch of gravel announces Scotty’s truck rolling up .

A knight in shining armor bearing pizza and plumbing supplies with a grin like the Cheshire Cat.

“You look like you won the lottery.” I take the pizza from its tenuous resting place on his arm. “Not schlepped to a ranch with potential tetanus adventures.”

“Figured you might be starving, and Chester hinted you could use some backup with that sprinkler system,” he says, gesturing to where the old pony is now contentedly tearing at some hay. Scotty lets out a long breath and tilts his head as he looks me straight in the eyes. “Angel, you look exhausted. How about we hit pause, eat some pizza, and you can make a list of the plumbing miracles you need from me next?”

I don’t know if it’s the way Scotty sees what I need before I can even say it aloud, but I find myself agreeing before my pride can put up a fight.

“You’re a lifesaver. Pizza and plumbing—it’s like you’ve peeked into my wild Friday night fantasies.”

We sit on his truck’s tailgate, sharing slices of what has to be heaven on dough—at least it feels like that on my battered energy levels. Scotty outlines his master plan for the sprinklers.

With the pizza demolishing my hunger and Scotty’s easy company dismantling my usual defenses, I let the ranch’s evening serenade of crickets and distant animal calls fill the spaces between us. This man only just showed up, and I can’t get over how much I want him to stay.

But that could be the lack of sleep talking.