After the exertion of the last few days, we all take it easy at home, reclining in the living room with the TV on low while we do our own activities. Everett goes over some notes, Cash scribbles in a notebook, and I pull out a book, alternating between reading and staring into space.
Cora seems happy to have all of us in the same place and not going to work, and she flits between everyone, showing off her toys and the friendship bracelets she made when she was with Lainey.
After a bit, Cash looks up, a little smile on his face. “We should go do something,” he says.
“Something like what?” Harper asks. She doesn’t look like she wants to move from the couch.
But then Cash clarifies, “Something fun for Cora,” and that gets her attention immediately. “We haven’t seen her in a few days,” he continues. “It would be nice to go out and do something with her.”
Harper scoops Cora up into her arms and holds on to her. “Would you like that, baby?” she murmurs. “Do you want to go out and do something?”
Cora looks skeptical at first, but then Cash plays his ace. “You know Bessie doesn’t live far from here. You remember going to see her? We could pay a visit. It’s just down the road.”
That immediately makes her clap her hands and nod eagerly, and we all laugh at that.
“It’s a good idea,” Everett says. “Getting out of the house would be good for all of us.” He looks to Harper, who smiles.
“Yeah, I’m in.”
“I’ll make a call,” I say, getting up to call Lainey again. She laughs when I relay my request, but then calls the farm to secure permission for us to go see the cow.
Within the hour, we’re all dressed and tromping through the pasture.
Bessie comes over the hill, and Cora’s little face lights up the second she sees her. She takes off running, making a little noise of happiness.
“Be careful!” Harper calls, probably more worried about Cora falling in the grass than the cow hurting her. But we all hurry after Cora, in time to see her stop in front of Bessie and lift up her hand.
Bessie snorts softly and stays still, letting Cora pet her. She’s a peaceful old lady, content to let a four-year-old pat her all over and then feed her a handful of fresh hay for her trouble.
“Hold it up like this,” I tell Cora, demonstrating so she can copy me.
Bessie munches the hay and then noses against Cora’s hand like she’s looking for more.
“Do you want to sit on her back?” I ask her.
Cora’s eyes go as wide as saucers as she looks at me. She makes the sign for ‘high’, and I smile.
“It is high, yeah. But no one here is going to let you fall. Your aunt, Cash, and Everett will keep an eye on you, and I’ll be right here. Do you want to?”
She thinks it over for a while and then nods. So I scoop her up, letting her cling to me before I settle her on the cow’s back. Something about the way she holds on to me makes a feeling warm and unfamiliar bloom in my chest.
It’s trust, I realize after a beat.
Cora’s trusting me to keep her safe, and more than that, Harper’s trusting me with someone so incredibly precious to her. She’s watching us, but keeping her distance, not hovering like she thinks I’m going to drop Cora or let her fall.
It feels good, and I smile a little to myself before refocusing on the task at hand.
We spend the whole afternoon there in the grass, petting Bessie and letting Cora feed her hay. Harper seems light and unburdened, and she laughs more than I’ve ever heard her laugh before. When Cora tows her over to ‘meet’ Bessie, Harper holds a hand out to her, and the smile when the cow touches her nose to Harper’s hand is radiant.
It’s the exact thing we needed today, and even Everett is in good spirits, smiling and telling Cora the few things he knows about cows.
When the sun starts going down, we start heading back to the truck. Cora rides on my shoulders, and I keep my hands on her legs, making sure she can’t topple off in her excitement to see everything as we go.
I catch Harper’s grateful smile and smile back instantly.
There’s something there in her eyes that makes my throat go tight. It just feels right to be like this, to have her here and have her niece on my shoulders. To have my pack—our pack—on an outing like we’re a family.
It’s dangerous to start thinking like that though. Dangerous to start wondering… what if. Harper still plans to leave, and this was never supposed to be a permanent situation. It’s better not to dwell on what’s not going to happen because it can’t.