I stiffened as I turned to take in Katelyn Beasley. She was made up to the nines, and there was no denying she was beautiful, but there was an emptiness beneath the beauty that made me cringe.
Cady twisted in my arms to look at Katelyn. “Mr. Grizz is my best friend after Charlie, and he doesn’t like meanies.”
Katelyn’s jaw dropped, but she quickly closed it. “Well, no one should like mean people.”
“She means he doesn’t like you,” Charlie said. “I see you be mean to Miss Barlow all the time, and Heather made Cady cry. We don’t want anything to do with you.”
Katelyn forced a laugh, but it was beyond strained. “Kids, right?”
I stared her down. “I’m going with what they said.”
I bent, keeping Cady in my arms, and grabbed her bag. “You ready to go, Tiny Dancer?”
She grinned down at me as Katelyn spluttered in the background. “This is the best dance class I ever had.”
26
ASPEN
“It was the best!” Cady said as she twirled around the kitchen.
I looked up from the chili I was stirring and glanced at Roan, who watched my daughter with a hint of amusement on his face. God, he was a good man. There was no feeling like watching his tenderness around her.
“Mr. Grizz is going to take me all the time so the meanies aren’t mean,” she added.
My brows lifted at that. “Is that so?”
Roan shrugged. “I don’t mind.”
I filled bowls as his words hit me in the chest. I’d been in this alone for so long. No help. No one to share the load of both the good and the bad. Getting a taste of it now almost hurt.
The buzzer on the oven dinged, and Roan moved. “I’ll get it.”
He grabbed oven mitts and pulled out the rolls. He didn’t ask where anything was. He already knew. He lined a bowl with a towel and placed the bread inside.
Something about the simple task had me fighting tears. I quickly turned away and got to work, placing the bowls on the dinner table. “Cady, what do you want to drink?”
“Milk, please!”
“Roan?” I asked without looking, as if the sight of him so fully living in my space was too much to bear. What would happen when he left? Would everything feel empty? It probably wouldn’t be long. Steven and Tyson had stayed away, though I’d caught sight of Steven watching The Brew from across the street.
“Milk’s good,” Roan said, his voice gruff.
I turned my focus to the milk. I poured three glasses and set them on the table.
Cady slid into her chair but bounced up and down. She talked about dance and school and how Dr. Miller said Dory could be released tomorrow. I didn’t know how she ate her dinner between her stream of chattering, but she did.
“Can I please be excused? I want to go practice my pirouettes,” she asked with a smile.
I nodded. “Take your bowl to the sink, please.”
Cady hopped off her chair, dropped her bowl in the sink, and headed for her bedroom.
Then it was just Roan and me.
I took the napkin from my lap, folded it carefully, and placed it next to my placemat. “Thank you for what you did today.”
Roan leaned back in his chair. “It was nothing.”
I shook my head. “It was everything to her. To me.”
Roan’s blue gaze bored into me. “People like Katelyn, her daughter, they just need to know you’re not alone. That people are paying attention.”
I swallowed hard. “You think it’ll work?”
I didn’t give a damn about Katelyn and her snide comments toward me. I cared about Cady. What bullying and cruelty could do to her mental health. I wanted to nip it in the bud before she got to middle school, and there were things like social media and real crushes.
Roan was quiet for a moment. “I’m gonna keep showing up. They’ll know that I’m paying attention. Gonna tell Law to do the same when he’s around. Katelyn wants in his pants, so she might shape up for that reason alone.”
I choked on a laugh. “You’re throwing your brother to the wolves?”
Roan’s gaze locked with mine. “I’d do anything for you.”
“Still and quiet, right?” Roan asked.
“Quiet like a mouse,” Cady whispered as she leaned against me.
We stood at the back of the barn. All the animals other than the ducks were out in the pastures so we could have that quiet.
Roan had the barn door open as wide as it would go. All the stalls were closed, so there was only one path to the outside.