He arched a brow at the last one, peering over the top of the paper at her. “Pigeon?”

She nodded. “I think Boots is my favorite, though.”

He set the paper back down in front of her. “Boots it is.”

“Okay!” She pulled her pink colored pencil out of her pocket, doing her best to write the name on the paper above the brown horse. “Mama, how do you spell Boots?”

I pulled out my notepad and pen from the front of my apron, writing the word down as I said each letter out loud, then handed it to her.

“You ever get around to bringing her to the ranch?” Lennon asked me, as Avery spelled the word out loud to herself while she wrote it.

“To the ranch?” I asked.

“For those riding lessons I told you about a few months ago. My brother would be more than willing to teach her to ride.”

I glanced down at the drawing as Avery slashed the “t,” gnawing on my bottom lip. Amidst the chaos of raising a five-year-old on my own, I’d completely forgotten about his offer. She’d been begging me for a horse when Lennon offered for her to come ride at the ranch. Avery was obsessed with horses and would have a blast, but it’d be hard to find time in our schedule. At least with school being out, it was manageable, but I didn’t want to deflate her once summer ended if the lessons slowed down.

“Sage?” Lennon interrupted my thoughts.

I gave him a tight-lipped smile. “I’ll bring her by when I can.”

He dipped his chin in a nod, pleased with my answer. Even though Lennon didn’t have kids of his own, he could see how draining it was to be at the top of my game every day. He wanted to give me the break he so desperately saw that I needed.

That’s what happened when you had a kid. While your feelings still mattered, you’d do anything to never let your kid see the storm, and that meant no days off.

“I most likely won’t be there, but one of my brothers will. Just let them know I sent you,” he said.

“Does it matter what day?” I didn’t want to be rude and stop by without an appointment or anything, but with the cafe and Avery, my schedule was never set in stone. It was hard to plan much of anything.

“Nope. Cal’s almost always there.”

“Cal?” I’d never heard that brother's name before. I knew Lettie, Reed, and Beckham Bronson, but I assumed that was it. I’d lived here for three years, so I figured I’d met all the Bronsons.

“Callan. He’s about a year older than you, teaches lessons at our parents’ ranch, looks most like me than my other brothers…” He listed the traits like a little light bulb would go off over my head at any minute.

I shook my head, absentmindedly running my fingers through Avery’s hair as she added flowers to her drawing. “Doesn’t ring a bell.”

As if on cue, the cowbell rang above the door as Gemma walked in.

I glanced at the clock out of habit, seeing that she was ten minutes late. She always was, but I’d learned my lesson the last time when she bit my head off for even opening my mouth about a schedule. I’d been late to pick up Avery from school that day, and I blamed myself for it, even though it was nowhere near my fault.

“You’re here,” I said with what had to be my hundredth forced smile of the day.

“I’m here,” she repeated dryly, coming around the counter to head through the back door.

I patted Avery’s shoulder, looking down at her. “Why don’t you grab your stuff and we can head home?”

“Okay, Mama.” She finished off her flower on the paper, leaving the drawing behind as she went to grab her backpack. Though it was summer, she still brought it with her so she had snacks, various toys, and extra drawing supplies to keep her busy throughout my shift.

“Well, just look for the guy that’s the complete opposite of Reed, and you’ll find him,” Lennon said, going back to the Callan topic.

“I’ll be sure to tell Reed you said that,” I teased with a smile. “Did you want anything before I leave?”

He shook his head. “Just wanted to check in, see how things were going. You’ve seemed…”

“Stressed?” I filled in.

His face fell. “Stressed.”

“I’m a single mom to a five-year-old with no babysitter and a full-time job. What’s not to be stressed about?” I didn’t mean it literally, yet it was literal in every sense of the word, and I hated the way his eyes changed, sympathy for my situation apparent in them. “I’m okay, Len. Really. Thank you for checking in.”

“Oakley would have my ass if I didn’t,” he said, and he was right, she would. We’d grown to be great friends since she moved into town months ago. “Do you need the address?”

“I honestly don’t remember where I put the paper you wrote it on, so that’d be great.” I never lost so many things until I had Avery, then mom-brain kicked in and I was overly forgetful.

I slid him the notepad and pen from beside Avery’s drawing and he wrote the address down.

“Tell Oakley I said hi and that I’ll text her once I get a free moment.” Would I ever have a free moment, though?

“I will.” He set the pen on the pad, tapped the counter twice, then headed for the door. “See you later, Sage.”

“See you,” I replied as he disappeared out the door.

“Ready,” Avery said as she came to my side with her backpack slung over her shoulders.

“Let me just tell Gemma we’re leaving."

I peeked my head through the back door to find Gemma sitting at the table by the refrigerator. “I’m heading out.”

She didn’t bother to look up from her phone as she teetered on the back two legs of the chair. “You think your kid can clean up her mess?”

My eyes moved to Avery’s small table shoved against the wall, a breakfast bar wrapper and a colored pencil sitting on top. I briefly closed my eyes and inhaled a calming breath, though it did little to ease the frustration I felt toward Gemma. I grabbed the wrapper in a fist, shoving it in the pocket of my jeans, then picked up the single colored pencil.

Without a word, I headed back out to Avery, not bothering to put the pencil in her backpack as I grabbed her hand and headed out of the cafe to my car. Once we approached the trunk, I unlocked the doors and slid Avery’s backpack off before she got in the car to buckle herself into her booster seat. 

Setting the pink backpack on the passenger seat along with the pencil, I shut my driver door and turned the key in the ignition. We lived in town, so the drive home was short. I pulled into the driveway that led up to the beige home—everything about it was bland, from the paint to the layout. But I couldn’t complain when our landlord left us alone and allowed pets.

Avery’s buckle clicked and she was out in seconds, running up to the door. Sliding out of the driver's side with Avery’s backpack in hand, I headed up the concrete pathway to the house, fitting the key in the lock and opening the door. 

“Do you want to watch a movie?” I asked as she walked inside. I didn’t have the energy for much else, and while I was well aware that people shamed screen time, sometimes a mother just needed a minute. And a glass of wine. I was definitely pouring myself a glass of wine.

“Frozen?” she asked, not bothering to close the door behind us like I’d reminded her countless times to do so her cat wouldn’t run out.

Kicking the door shut, I set her backpack on the hook in the front entry. “Sounds good to me. Want to change into some comfy clothes and we can turn it on?” 

She tossed her hair over her shoulder as she turned to me. “Are you getting in comfy clothes, too?”

I set my phone and pocket-sized wallet on the ivory kitchen counter. “How could I watch a movie without being comfy?”