“You’ll see. It’s like a big party that goes right through town. Everybody lines up to watch, some people who are in the parade will throw candy and—”
“Candy.” The word left her lips on a gasp, and her eyes grew wide. “Can I have some?”
Levi turned and squinted in the semidarkness, searching for the battery-powered lantern Grandpa usually left inside the barn. “When it’s time, yes, you may.”
“When is the parade? Today?”
“No.” Levi spotted the lantern, picked it up and turned the knob. The bulbs flickered on. “It’s on the Fourth of July.”
“Is that tomorrow?”
Oh brother. Levi tried not to show his impatience. “It’s in about fifteen wake-ups.”
A measurement of time he’d learned from one of his friends with kids. Sleeping and waking up made sense when terms like afternoon, next week and next month didn’t seem to compute. At least for Wren.
“It’s gonna rain tomorrow.” She hopped from one foot to the next, kicking up dust in the barn’s doorway. “I’m glad the party thingy isn’t then.”
“Yeah, me too.” Levi smiled. “How do you know about tomorrow’s weather?”
“The rain-cloud sign on TV, silly.”
Ah, that’s right. He’d had the news on for a few minutes before breakfast—until he realized the leading stories were not suitable for kids. Good thing he’d shut it off right after the weather forecast.
A squirrel darted in, then darted right back out. The sun warmed his back as he stood facing the truck and tried to envision a clever design for the float. Savannah’s pirate-ship sketch had been epic, but he was afraid to ask what she’d need to pull that off. The muffled hum of a vehicle moving closer quickened his steps as Wren turned and trotted toward the car.
“Wren, wait.” He had to jog to catch her before she ran across the field alone.
The determined little girl ignored him.
Thankfully, he recognized Savannah behind the wheel of the white sedan. She’d slowed to nearly a crawl, then eased to a stop and parked next to his grandparents’ house.
“Sabby!” Wren yelled, her little fist knocking on the driver’s-side window.
“Wren, you can’t run at people’s cars like that.” Levi didn’t want to scold her, but that was exactly the kind of dangerous behavior that sent him spiraling into a panic.
Savannah climbed out of the vehicle. Uncertainty flashed in her eyes as she looked between Wren and Levi. “Is everything okay?”
“Yep.” Wren grabbed Savannah’s hand and tugged her to the barn. “Come see the truck.”
“Wait.” Levi stepped in front of them. “Wren, we have to talk about what just happened.”
Wren pooched out her lower lip and avoided eye contact.
Savannah stood still, her hand captured between both of Wren’s. Her expression was filled with empathy.
Levi slowly sank down to the little girl’s eye level. “Pumpkin, I need you to know how important it is that you not run toward moving cars. Ever.”
“But I’m just happy,” Wren whispered.
“I know. Me too. Being with Savannah is one of my favorite things.”
Uh-oh. The words had slipped out before he could give them careful thought. Savannah’s breath hitched. He kept his gaze trained on Wren.
“I’m sorry, Lee-by.” Wren’s chin wobbled. “I’ll be good.”
Oh, this kid. Her pitiful attempts to win his favor speared him every time.
“I know you will.” He reached out and cupped her shoulder gently with his hand. “It’s my job to keep you safe, and I don’t want you to get hurt, because I care about you.”
She nodded but still wouldn’t look at him. He dragged his gaze to meet Savannah’s, already questioning his methods and silently seeking her wisdom.
“It’s fine,” Savannah mouthed without making any sound.
Let it go. Message delivered. He stood and angled his head toward the barn. “We’d better go show Savannah the truck.”
Savannah grinned, and they fell into step beside each other. “How are your grandparents?”
“They’re doing well.” Levi reached for Wren’s hand and guided her around a mud puddle. “Enjoying retirement. They’re over at my aunt and uncle’s place for dinner.”
Wren tugged free and ran ahead. Levi slowed his steps, waiting for her to turn and dash back toward the puddle. At the last second, she got distracted by a butterfly fluttering outside the barn’s door. Another load of mud-splattered laundry avoided. For now.
“That’s a pretty one, isn’t it, Wren?” Savannah pointed toward the black-and-yellow insect as it dipped toward the blooming flowers in the wood planters nearby.
“So pretty,” Wren whispered.
Inside the barn, Levi found another battery-powered lamp and set it near the back of the truck. Savannah plopped her bag on the hood but didn’t pull out her sketch pad. Instead, she gave Wren her full attention as the little girl delivered a detailed rundown of her activities. Part of him was annoyed that she had hardly mentioned any of it to him, but he had to admit, she and Savannah were fun to watch. They had such an easy way together. No stress. No tension. Savannah knew just what to say—and the right questions to ask to get Wren to share more details. He could get used to this, the three of them hanging out together. Not that he could get attached. Savannah hadn’t locked down a full-time job, and he had no idea how long Wren would be with him.
“So does the truck still run?” Savannah braced her hands on her hips.
