Page 54 of Cowboy Elite 2: Mike

"I heard the mixer." Charlotte climbed onto the stool beside her. "Are you making pie?"

"I am. Want to help?"

Charlotte's face lit up like Christmas morning. "Really? Aunt Heather never lets me help with pie. She says I eat all the filling before it makes it to the crust."

"Well, I won't tell if you won't."

For the next hour, they worked side by side. Liv showed Charlotte how to roll dough and how to crimp edges with a fork. “Gentle hands, like you're petting a puppy,” she coached. Charlotte's tongue stuck out in concentration, her small hands surprisingly steady.

"Miss Liv?" Charlotte asked, pressing her fork carefully along the edge of her mini pie. "Are you sad?"

Liv's hands stilled. "What makes you think I'm sad?"

"You get this look sometimes. Like you're remembering something that hurts." Charlotte looked up at her with those too-wise six-year-old eyes. "My mama used to get that look sometimes. Before she went to Heaven."

Liv's throat closed.

"I do get sad sometimes," Liv admitted. "I'm remembering things I wish I could forget."

Charlotte nodded solemnly. Then she reached into her pocket and pulled out a smooth, gray stone about the size of a quarter. It caught the morning light and glinted with tiny flecks of mica.

"This is for you," Charlotte said, pressing it into Liv's flour-dusted palm. "It's my special rock. The shiny one from the creek. Uncle Kenny says it’s called a mica stone and makes things stronger. So maybe it'll make you stronger too."

Liv stared down at the rock, vision blurring with tears she couldn't quite blink back. "Charlotte, I can't take your special rock."

"You should keep it for a while." Charlotte's voice was certain. "'Cause sometimes rocks help. That's just science."

Liv pulled the little girl into a hug, holding on maybe a little too tight. "Thank you, sweetie. I'll keep it safe."

"Good. And if you get really scared, you can hold it and think about me. That way you won't feel alone."

The back door opened and Harris walked in, all false smiles and new boots that squeaked against the tile.

Liv's entire body went rigid.

"Morning," Harris said, helping himself to coffee like he owned the place. "Something smells amazing."

Charlotte looked up from her pie, studied him with the blunt assessment only children could get away with, and announced, "Miss Liv makes the best cookies in the whole world. You should try one before you get all nosy about her business."

Harris blinked, caught off guard. "I'm sorry?"

Charlotte continued, utterly unbothered. "Aunt Heather says people who ask too many questions are either real interested or real nosy. So I figured you should try a cookie first. They're real good. Might improve your manners."

Liv bit the inside of her cheek to keep from laughing despite her fear. Harris's smile had gone tight around the edges.

"That's... very thoughtful of you," he said.

"I'm a thoughtful person." Charlotte returned to her pie like she hadn't just put a grown man in his place. "Miss Liv, can I put jam in mine? The strawberry kind?"

"Of course, sweetie."

Harris lingered by the coffee station, clearly trying to figure out how to recover from being called out by a first-grader. Liv kept her hands busy with pie dough and didn't meet his eyes.

"So," Harris tried again, "You from around here originally?"

Charlotte's head popped up. "Why do you care?"

"Charlotte," Liv said gently. "It's okay."