Page 105 of Love Wells Kept

“You told me this is your favorite hiding spot once.” I pause. “You were mad at Mom that time. Remember?”

She sniffles. “You remember that?”

My ribs constrict at the way hope shapes her tone.

“I do…. So why are you up there this time, Princess?”

She’s quiet for a moment. And it doesn’t matter that I get a little dizzy standing here for so long with my head tilted back, I continue staring up at my daughter. The stubborn, brave-as-hell, spitfire girl with more heart than she knows what to do with.

“I heard you talking in the kitchen last night.”

It’s the Sahara desert in the back of my throat, and I swallow, swallow, swallow despite the burning sensation and gritty pain. A distorted version of every word I might’ve said plays on repeat. I’m not sure how much of it she heard, but anything is too much.

“I’m sorry…. Have you been up there since then?” I swallow hard. Thank God she didn’t fall, especially if she climbed into the rafters in the dark.

“No,” she says quietly. “I was too scared. I waited until the morning.”

“Okay, good. Do you…would you like to come down? Talk about what you heard?” With held breath, I wait patiently for a response that doesn’t come. In the distance, Denny’s voice yells for Odessa, and I glance over at the open barn door briefly, then back to her. “I don’t remember everything, Odessa. And I hate that, because I know we had a lot of fun together, didn’t we? And…and I miss all those times I don’t remember. But I know one thing for sure—I love you with my entire heart. You and your brother are the reason I keep fighting to get better.”

More quiet.

Then, “I think I’m ready to come down now.”

My guts twist as she swings her other leg down and shimmies along the beam. Then slowly lowers herself, long, skinny body outstretched until her toes brush the top of the fence rail. When they catch, she balances there like an expert gymnast. I close the space, arms open, poised to catch her. Though I’m not sure why I had doubts, because she only wobbles the tiniest bit as she lets go of the wooden beam and crouches down to grab the metal rail next to her feet.

When her cowboy boots hit the cement floor, I drop to my knees and let her collapse into me. I press kisses into her wild hair, holding her tight, rubbing a hand up and down her back.

“Wanna tell me what you overheard last night?” I ask once both of our heart rates have returned to normal.

She tips her head up to look at me with too much worry creased in her cute, freckled face. Her cheeks are streaked with tears and dust, and she looks so much older than eight. “You said…you don’t feel like our dad. I thought maybe…”

“I’m so sorry….” My voice cracks.

I squeeze her tighter, as if it’ll somehow stop the pain in my chest from consuming me. My nose burns, my eyes burn, and no matter how aggressively I tell my tear ducts to get their shit together, I end up crying in front of my little girl.

My little girl.

For the first time, I hold her and it feels exactly like she’s mine.

“I’m so sorry,” I whisper. “I shouldn’t have said that.”

“I thought if I left…maybe you’d remember me.”

Fuck. That lands like a punch to the gut. I squeeze my eyes shut for half a second, holding it in, then open them again and meet hers. “I don’t need you to disappear to remember you, or to remember how to be your dad. I just need time. And you. And maybe a few more bedtime stories.”

That earns a small smile.

“Can I tell you something?” I wait for her subtle nod. “I’ve been trying so hard to do all the things I used to do. I want to be your dad so badly, but I don’t remember how…and I’m scared of getting it wrong, because you and Rhett deserve the best.”

She gives me a side-eye. “You always say dads aren’t scared of anything.”

“Well, that was before I learned what it felt like to lose you guys. And that scared the hell out of me.”

“Swear jar.”

I crinkle my nose, sniffing back the tears with a hollow chuckle. “I’ll pay up as soon as we get back to the house.”

“Can we make a trade instead?” she hesitantly asks. “Like the five seconds of honesty your mommy used to do when you were a kid and did something naughty. You don’t have to pay for the bad word if I can tell you a secret and not get in trouble.”