I was able to put off moving her to the farm for a few days, but she started to fuss and I missed her like crazy. Plus, it was getting harder to come up with excuses to tell Wyatt. So, the following weekend I went to my parents’ house to pick up Alyssa and bring her to Wyatt’s.
“Do you think Wyatt will let me help on the farm?” she asked as she bounced in the seat on our way back to his place. I should have been thrilled she was so excited, but I knew it was only a matter of time before everything was going to fall apart.
“Maybe some of it. I don’t know about the cattle, but maybe the chickens and horses.”
“I can’t wait to see the horses.” She clapped her hands.
As I pulled up the drive, Jasper Long passed me in his truck, pulling a trailer. He gave me a friendly wave. I waved back, wondering why he’d been there. Perhaps Wyatt was working with him on a plan to deal with Stark.
As I reached the house. Wyatt was out front with a gray horse on a lead rope, brushing its coat.
“Mama, look! It’s so pretty,” Alyssa’s face was plastered to the window.
“Wait until I stop before you jump out.” I laughed at her excitement. It always filled my heart to see her not just happy, but joyful from deep in her soul.
I parked, and Alyssa scrambled out of the car.
Wyatt smiled. “Alyssa. Welcome.”
“Hi, Wyatt. That horse is so pretty.”
“This horse is actually a pony, but she is pretty, isn’t she?”
I came to stand next to Alyssa, who was vibrating with excitement. I knew she wanted to touch it, but she was exercising restraint.
“I thought ponies were smaller.”
“She’s only fourteen hands, which means technically, she’s a pony. Do you want to pet her?”
“Can I?”
“Of course. Come here.” Wyatt held out his arm to guide her to stand with him. “Put your hand out so she can smell you. That’s how she knows you’re okay.”
Alyssa tentatively held out her hand.
“It’s okay. She won’t bite. Then you can pet her on her nose or her neck.” He rubbed his hand down the pony’s nose and then her neck.
Alyssa followed suit. Her smile was heavenly. “Does she have a name?”
“Her name is Lilibud,” Wyatt said. “Do you want to sit on her?” Wyatt looked at me, presumably to ask if that was okay. I nodded.
“Can I?”
“Absolutely. Sinclair, can you hold this?” He handed me the lead rope.
“Don’t let go, Mama.”
“I won’t, baby.” I wished I had my phone out to capture this moment, but reminded myself it was better to watch in real time and not from behind a screen.
Wyatt picked her up and set her on Lilibud’s back.
“You can hold her withers here.” He showed her how to grip the ends of the mane.
“Look at me, Mama.”
“I see you, baby.”
Her smile was infectious. Wyatt looked at me as he came to get the lead rope again. His smile was nearly as wide as Alyssa’s.