cuffs and rolled up his sleeves. His shirt was soaked, his boots were already caked with mud, and it made him feel less out of place than when he had arrived.
“Now we have to put all the feed buckets back into the stalls.” Hope grabbed some buckets. “Carry as many as you can so we can get done quicker. Then, I get to ride Gypsy.”
“Her favorite horse,” Mackenzie explained.
Dylan grabbed as many buckets as his fingers could hold. “Lead the way, boss.”
His words made Hope laugh, spontaneously and loudly. She smiled at him again, this time without the nervousness. Hope’s smile, Dylan decided, was a million-dollar smile. It was addictive. He wanted to see it again and again.
“While you guys do this, I’m going to help Aggie in the office,” Mackenzie said. She looked at Hope specifically. “Is that okay?”
When Hope gave a small nod to her mom, Dylan felt as if he had managed to accomplish something pretty major: Hope felt comfortable enough with him to spend time alone. One by one, Hope introduced Dylan formally to the horses and it was obvious that Hope had a special connection with each and every one of them. The horses, some of whom pinned their ears back and gnashed their teeth at him, all came to Hope for some love and attention. It made him feel proud that, at such a young age, she had a special way with these horses. They weren’t pretty. They weren’t young. But she loved them just the same. In that, she took directly after kindhearted Mackenzie.
“This is Cinnamon.” Hope rubbed her hand lovingly over the mare’s face. “She’s a sweet girl. Aren’t you, Cinnamon? When you work with her, make sure you only approach her from her left side, because she’s missing her right eye. See?”
Dylan nodded. There was a deep indent where the mare’s eye should have been.
“If you walk up to her on her right side, she might get spooked and accidentally knock you over. But she wouldn’t mean to hurt you.”
After putting the feed bucket in her stall, Hope kissed Cinnamon affectionately on the nose.
“I’ve saved the best for last,” Hope said excitedly. “This...is Gypsy.”
The word Gypsy was said with flair, as if Hope were introducing the most amazing horse in the history of the equine. Dylan read the large plaque on Gypsy’s stall: Warning! This horse will bite! Dylan then took a step back from the gate. Hope wrapped her arms around the mare’s neck and hugged.
“What’s with the sign?” Dylan asked.
“Oh,” Hope said nonchalantly. “She’s just looking for food, is all. That’s why Aggie won’t let us carry treats in our pockets. And we can only give them treats in their buckets, never by hand.
“Isn’t she great?” Hope rubbed the space between Gypsy’s sad brown eyes.
Gypsy was a spindly-legged barrel-bellied mare with giant, fuzzy donkey ears, a dull brown coat and an unusually long, bony face. Even in the best of times, Dylan knew that Gypsy had never been a prize.
Wanting to be diplomatic on his first day hanging out with his daughter, Dylan said the only noncommittal thing he could say, “If you like her then I like her.”
“I knew you’d like her, too.” Hope nodded happily.
In between stuffing envelopes for the upcoming fundraiser, Mackenzie periodically checked on Hope and Dylan by poking her head around the corner. She didn’t feel good about spying, but she had to check on Hope. And she was glad she did. If she hadn’t spied on them, she would have missed a hallmark moment: the expression on her daughter’s face when she introduced Dylan to Gypsy. Hope was beaming at him. She knew all of her daughter’s many expressions by heart. That one? It was only reserved for those that Hope really liked. For Mackenzie, bearing witness to this moment confirmed for her that bringing Dylan into Hope’s life was the right thing to do. It didn’t nullify her fears for what a future with Dylan in it would mean for her, but for Hope? Her trepidation was erased just like words being wiped away on a whiteboard.
“Done!” Hope attached Gypsy’s clean feed bucket to the hook in the stall and then exited the stall.
“Nice work.” Dylan held up his hand.
Hope high-fived him. “Do you want to help me get Gypsy’s tack?”
“Of course I do. I cleared my entire Sunday just for you.”
“You did?”
Dylan nodded. He’d managed to win another smile from Hope. He was on a winning streak and felt like hugging her. But he didn’t.
“That’s cool,” Hope said.
Hope grabbed the bridle, girth and saddle pad, while Dylan hoisted the heavy Western saddle onto his hip. With two of them working, they made quick work of grooming Gypsy before tacking her up. By the end of it, Dylan felt proud of the fact that he’d managed to get the job done without being on the losing end of Gypsy’s teeth.
“You can ride, too, you know,” his daughter said as she walked Gypsy down the breezeway.
“That’s okay...I’d rather watch you,” he said. He hadn’t been on a horse since high school.
Mackenzie heard her daughter’s voice in the breezeway and she met them at the barn entrance. There was a moment when she had a front-row seat to Hope and Dylan walking together, side by side, as if they had known each other all their lives. They had the same swing in their walk, these two. The same way of holding their shoulders, the same easygoing, couldn’t-possibly-ignore-it kind of smile.
“Hey, Mom!” Hope greeted Mackenzie enthusiastically. “I was just telling Dylan all about the riding school I want to open up after college.”
“I didn’t even know they made ten-year-olds like this.” Dylan smiled at them.
“Sometimes I don’t believe that she’s ten.” Mackenzie handed Hope a bottle of water. “Hydration, sunscreen and helmet, please.”
Mackenzie raised her eyebrows at Dylan over Hope’s head. Dylan smiled at her and gave her the “okay” symbol.
“Sunscreen.” Mackenzie exchanged the water bottle for the sunscreen bottle.
Hope put sunscreen on her arms and her face. She handed the sunscreen bottle back to Mackenzie along with Gypsy’s reins.
“I’ll be right back.” Hope jogged over to the tack room to grab a helmet.
“How’s it going?” Mackenzie asked quietly.
“Good,” Dylan said. “Really good...”
“I was hoping that the two of you would...you know...figure each other out if I gave you some space.”
“I think we did okay,” Dylan said. “She’s an incredible kid, Mackenzie. I mean...my God. So smart.”
“Straight As,” Mackenzie said with pride. “Even when she was at her worst with the chemo.”
“I like her.” Dylan’s thoughts became words.
Mackenzie wasn’t a crier. But when Dylan quietly said that he liked Hope, she felt like weeping with relief.
“Well...” Mackenzie turned her head away from him until she could put a halt to the waterworks. “I can tell that she’s already crazy about you.”
“Yeah? Do you think so?” Dylan was temporarily distracted by how the sunlight was reflecting on Mackenzie’s face. It looked dewy and flushed and pretty. Her lips, lips that he’d never really noticed before, were naturally pink and plump. Kissable lips.
“I do.” Mackenzie nodded. “I do.”
Mackenzie liked how disheveled Dylan looked now. Gone was the catalog model posed in a barn. Part of his shirt was untucked, his jeans were dirty and the once-pristine boots were