Rowdy sighed. “He’s probably missing me.”
“I know he is.” Her son loved his pony. And his pony loved him right back. He followed Rowdy all over, more like a dog than the sturdy spotted pony he was. “You got a minute?” she asked.
He nodded. “Shoot.”
She smiled. “Well, I’m not sure how to tell you this. So I’m just gonna say it, okay?”
“You and Mitchell are getting married?” he asked, a slight frown on his face.
“What? Why would you think that?”
“You were gonna marry him. Dot says he still wants to marry you,” he said. “Real bad. That’s why he’s always around.”
“And he knows I don’t want to get married. Ever. To anyone. He’s my best friend, that’s all.” She waited.
“I feel bad for him, Ma.” Rowdy stared up at her.
“Oh, well, if you feel bad for him, then I’ll marry him,” she teased.
Rowdy laughed. “I don’t want you to marry him. I like him but...”
Exactly. She liked him, valued his friendship, but there was no spark there. She and Mitchell had tried, hoping their friendship could grow into something more. But his proposal had been prompted by her pregnancy and Mitchell’s goodness. His wife had just left him, and he’d been devastated and grieving. And Poppy had needed help. They’d realized it was a mistake a few
months later. But instead of losing a fiancé, she’d gained a best friend—one who told it like it was, one she could call if she needed help or share a beer with at the end of a long day. He’d been a fixture since before Rowdy was born. As her friend, nothing more.
She sank onto the corner of his bed, putting thoughts of Mitchell aside. She took a deep breath, smiled and said, “No, what I want to talk about has nothing to do with Mitchell.”
“Okay,” he said, sitting beside her.
“I’ve told you a little about your dad,” she said, her throat constricting.
“Toben Boone.” He smiled up at her.
“Well...” She tucked one of his curls behind his ear. She couldn’t say it... The words stuck in her throat.
“He okay?” Rowdy asked, his brown eyes going wide with concern. “Something happen to him?”
“No, no.” She shook her head. “He’s here.”
Rowdy jumped up. “Here? In Stonewall Crossing? Is that why we moved here?”
“I didn’t know he was here. I lost track of him a while back.” Because she’d stopped looking for him, stopped hoping he’d change his mind and want to meet his son.
“Does he know I’m here? Have you talked to him?” Rowdy was so excited he was practically bouncing.
“I have. And so have you,” she said. “The man today with the pastries. That was him.”
Rowdy stared at her. His smile faded, the energy seeming to slowly drain from his body. “Why didn’t he say anything to me?” His shoulders slumped.
She reached for him and pulled him close before continuing. “Toben said he didn’t know about you, Rowdy.”
Rowdy was rigid in her arms. “You told him.”
“I did,” she agreed.
“So he’s lying?”
“I’m not sure,” she said, continuing to hug him. “I don’t know what happened. But he does want to meet you.”