Missy climbed up onto a barstool, her dark hair falling over her shoulders. “It doesn’t matter. Momma calls her my other mom. Fran calls Momma my mom.” She shrugged as if this wasn’t an odd situation at all.
Ted didn’t want it to be odd for them either. “Okay,” he said. “I called your other mom, and she gave me the recipe you two used when you made these cookies before.” He put his phone down and slid it toward her. “So it’s right there. I’m not great in the kitchen, so you’re gonna have to come help me.”
Missy picked up his phone and smiled. “All right.” She got up and rounded the island. “Do you have an apron?”
“Uh.” Ted literally ate from boxes and bags and bottles.
“It’s okay,” Missy said. “Fran told me things would be different here.” She opened the fridge. “We need butter and eggs.” She continued to chit and chat as she put together the dough, and all Ted had to do was listen and ask questions and marvel at the maturity of this child.
She reminded him so much of Emma, and Ted couldn’t wait to walk down the road and knock on that cabin door.
What if she says no?
Nate’s words became his own thought process.
Ted resisted the thoughts. Emma just had to say yes. He didn’t want a long-term commitment. He just wanted a second chance with her.
He’d gotten one in life, thanks to Nate, Dallas, Slate, and Luke. And Ginger. And the four dogs waiting for him and Missy the moment they stepped out the front door.
Ted carried the flowers and the baby piglet in the little purse she’d come in. Missy had the plate of cookies in her hands. Ted had practiced his apology, and he’d taken two minutes to brush his teeth and oil his beard while Missy put the freshly baked cookies on a plate.
“Give me strength,” he murmured as he followed Emma’s daughter down the steps.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Emma had returned from the stables an hour ago, the scent of chocolate floating on the air as she’d passed the Annex. The desire to go inside and see what Ted and Missy were doing had been nearly impossible to resist.
She’d even climbed the steps to the deck before realizing what she was doing.
She’d scurried quickly back down to the yard and continued to her new home. She’d been working every waking minute for the past six days to get it habitable for her and her daughter. Fran and Matt had stayed yesterday for hours, helping get Missy’s bed set up with her comfortable and familiar blankets, stuffed animals, and trinkets. She had Polaroid pictures of her and her friends. Her and her other parents. Just her.
Emma had cried for hours last night after Missy had gone to sleep. What was she doing, pulling this child from the only life and the only parents she’d ever known?
Fran had called about one-thirty in the morning, claiming she couldn’t sleep because she knew Emma would be having a hard time. That had only made Emma cry harder. Fran had assured her and reassured her that she and Matt were okay.
“We’ve always known she was only ours on loan,” Fran had said. “Please, Emma, don’t let this hurt you for too long.”
Emma didn’t know how to make it stop hurting. She’d wanted Missy to have the best life possible, and she’d had it with Fran and Matt. She had friends, and a big window in her room that let in lots of light, and violin lessons. Fran had taught her how to cook and Matt had taught her how to ride a bike. They’d loved her and raised her as their own, and Emma couldn’t just let that all go.
She didn’t know how.
She knew Missy wanted to be here with her, and for Emma, it was all of her dreams come true. “You’ve been working toward this day for a decade,” she told herself as she pulled out another chunk of grass from the flowerbed rimming the cabin.
“Momma?”
Her daughter’s voice filled the air and lifted her spirits. She clapped her gloved hands together and groaned as she got to her feet. “I’m out back,” she called. The back door opened a few seconds later, and Missy stood there.
She smiled at Emma and lifted the paper plate in her hands. “Come get some cookies.”
Emma couldn’t say no to that. She’d given her permission for Missy to bake with Ted that morning, even if she didn’t understand it. She’d never known the cowboy to beat, batter, or bake. But Missy had wanted to, and Emma could admit she’d hoped Ted and Missy would become fast friends.
He seemed to like everyone, and they all liked him too. Emma had been trying to convince herself for a week now that the connection between them was because of his magnetic personality and not because she’d started to fall in love with him.
“Let me wash up,” she said as she entered the cabin. It was bigger than the single bedroom she’d come from, but still small for a house. Two bedrooms at the end of a hall that was only three steps long, with a bathroom between them. A galley kitchen she had to walk through once she entered through the back door to get to the dining room and living room at the front of the house. The whole thing was nine hundred square feet, but it had felt huge as she’d cleaned it, that was for sure.
She paused at the kitchen sink and washed her hands. “All right,” she said, turning back to her daughter, who’d waited behind her.
At that moment, Missy’s phone chimed, and she lit up. “I think that’s Frannie. Can I call her?”
“Of course,” Emma said, taking the plate of M&M cookies from Missy. “I don’t know if
