"Candy—"
"No arguments." She smiles, but her voice is steady. "Just in case, I want her with me. And you need to be with him."
The certainty in her tone steadies me, just a little.
Later, after Emma's tucked in bed, and the apartment is quiet, my phone buzzes.
Bear:Got the place to myself tomorrow. Bring Emma out. Let her play with the horses.
My heart kicks hard. I type, then delete, then type again.
Me:Are you sure?
Bear:Positive. She will have a blast here. Trust me.
I stare at the screen, my chest full of conflicting things—fear, hope, longing. Finally, I reply.
Me:Okay.
The next afternoon, Emma bounces with excitement the whole drive. "Do you think I can pet one, Mama? Do you think they'll let me?"
"We'll see," I say, though I already know Asher won't say no.
When we pull up, he's waiting by the fence, leaning against a post, hat shading his eyes. Emma squeals and bolts out of the car before I can stop her.
"Careful!" I call, hurrying after her.
But Asher's already crouched to meet her, his smile softer than I've ever seen it. "Well, hey there. You must be Emma."
She nods, grinning widely. "Mama says you have horses."
"That's true." He glances at me, and a warmth passes between us before he looks back at her. "Want to meet one?"
"Yes, please!"
He leads us into the pasture, where an almost all-black horse grazes near the fence line. The big horse lifts her head, ears pricked, and ambles over as if she already knows Emma's meant for her.
"This is Midnight. She's been with me for a few years now, but she loves kids," Asher says.
Emma gasps when Midnight lowers her head to sniff her hair. "Mama! She likes me!"
I laugh, a sound shaky with relief. "Looks like it."
Asher rests a steadying hand on Midnight's neck before looking at me. "Go on, Sunshine. You can pet her."
"Mama, why does he call you Sunshine?" Emma asks, missing nothing.
I look up at Asher with wide eyes, not sure what to say, but Asher doesn't miss a beat.
"Because your mom's smile reminds me of sunshine. It brightens up her whole face," he says, and Emma smiles, nods her head, and accepts it without question while turning her attention back to Midnight.
Emma stretches out her hand, tiny fingers brushing Midnight's velvety nose. Her giggle rings out pure and bright. "She's soft."
Watching her, something eases in me that hasn't in weeks. The fear, the guilt, the pressure—it all quiets for a moment, replaced by the simple joy of seeing my daughter light up.
Emma strokes Midnight's nose again and then pats the horse like she is thanking her for being gentle. Asher shows her how to hold her palm flat and where to scratch along the jaw. Emma copies him with absolute concentration, tongue peeking out, small brows pinched, acting as if this is a test she wants to ace.
She helps Asher walk Midnight to the barn, and after a tour of the barn, she returns to Midnight’s stall.