“Time to get dressed for church,” Jane said. “Come here, Suzie. You first.”
The dresses were almost too small on the girls. They seemed to be growing so fast that they could be into a dress and out of it again before they even managed to stain it. But looking down at the dresses that were a little snug around the chest already made her heart beat just a bit faster. She’d known that raising two kids at once would be expensive, but they cost even more than she’d imagined and the constant pressure to keep providing all the necessities was taxing.
When the money came from the inheritance, would she dare use it for things like church dresses? Or would she be too cautious to touch it for anything less than the bed-and-breakfast? She didn’t know yet. She was still praying about that—she needed guidance. One thing was for sure, her own wardrobe could wait. The pink dress that she’d worn to the lawyer’s office was the best that she owned, and she wore it every week to church during the warm months.
When Jane had finished dressing the girls, she opened the door and they both exploded into the hallway in a torrent of giggles and pattering feet. Jane could hear the shower going, and she could only assume that Peg was getting ready for church as well.
The girls flung themselves onto the couch, where they climbed around and babbled to each other. Jane smiled at their antics and headed into the kitchen. All she wanted right now was a strong cup of coffee.
The side door opened and Colt came inside just as she entered the kitchen. He tossed his hat onto a peg and sat down to pull off his boots.
“Morning,” he said.
“Good morning. I’m getting myself some coffee. Do you want some, too?”
“Yeah, that would be great. Just black,” Colt said. “One of my ranch hands is hungover, so I had to pitch in with chores this morning.”
“Hungover?” Jane said. “I’m sure that went over well.”
“Yeah.” He chuckled. “I’d fire him if I had any wiggle room right now. As it is, I gave him a stiff warning, I’m docking him a day of pay and here’s hoping that will be deterrent enough.”
“Sure hope so.” She poured two mugs of coffee and slid one toward him, then put some sugar into her own.
“So, I got a call last night from a neighbor who wants to buy a stretch of land that butts up against his,” Colt said.
Jane looked up. “Oh?”
“I could pay you out pretty easily if I sold to him. That’s the good news,” Colt said, but there was a hesitant look in his eye. He took a sip of coffee, then put the mug down on the counter with a thunk.
“And the problem?” she asked.
“It’s the land where we built that tree house.”
Jane’s heart skipped a beat. She knew what that patch of land meant to Colt—he couldn’t sell it for her. She shook her head. “So you said no, right?”
“I said I’d think about it real seriously,” he replied.
“But you love that place,” she countered. “The memories—”
“Sometimes a guy has to be practical,” Colt replied.
And it wasn’t hers. She had no say. Jane heaved a sigh. “Josh said it had two levels and a rope swing.”
“Yeah, it was pretty impressive.” He pursed his lips. “Or it seemed so back then. I’m sure if I see it again I’ll be less impressed with our feats of engineering.”
“It’s not about that, though,” she said.
“Back when we used to go out to the tree house and talk, our problems seemed fixable. We honestly thought there were solutions. Maybe I miss that youthful optimism.”
Jane looked into the living room where her girls were still tumbling on the couch together. She was doing her best with them, but would they have similar childhood memories, longing to fix the stuff that she messed up?
“It meant more to you than it did to Josh, didn’t it?” she asked.
“I think so,” he admitted. “It’s different being the one left behind. My mom drove away. He might have fought with his dad, but his dad was still here. I guess I counted on Josh more than I realized back then. I probably counted on stuff like that tree house, because it was nailed down, and it wasn’t going anywhere. Not that I went out there much when I was older, but knowing it was still there helped in some weird way.”
“Will you sell it?” she asked.
“I don’t know.” He sighed. “I want to ride out and take a look at it again. I probably can’t really get around selling it, but I can at least see it one last time.”
“Maybe your neighbor will let you visit the treehouse from time to time.”
“Whether he does or not, before I sell, I need to go take a look at it. I’ll know what’s right once I see it again.”
“I’d love to see it, too,” she admitted, then she stopped herself. She couldn’t just invite herself along on Colt’s personal goodbye to a cherished spot. “Sorry. I’m not trying to intrude. I know that this one is personal for you—”
“Hey, it was important to Josh, too. So I can understand you wanting to come along.” Colt met her gaze. “I’m thinking of riding out tomorrow morning. It would only take about an hour. Do you ride?”
“Fairly well,” she said. “I’d go with you if we could bring the girls.”
He sobered at that, then fell silent. She was overstepping—she could feel it. She was used to adapting every part of her life to her girls, but that didn’t mean everyone else wanted to do the same.
“That’s too much to ask,” she said quickly. “Never mind. You go and do what you need to. There are some things that belonged between you and Josh.”
Colt was silent for a moment, then he asked, “Have they been on horseback before? A friend of mine used to take his son on
