by Jill Lynn
But I did know something was up. I just didn’t know what.
Lee had made excellent money in the beginning of their marriage, so there’d been no blaring sirens to inform Ivy that his salary had taken a hit and he’d begun supplementing by dipping into pockets that weren’t his.
Her phone played a few seconds of the girls’ favorite song—her reminder it was time to pick them up.
Ms. Lina lived five minutes from the café in a small house that boasted a red door, blue siding and brightly colored flower boxes. Lina was just as artistic as her house, and the girls had benefited from the woman’s creative side. Every day they came home with various art projects.
Ivy knocked and stepped inside when Lina called out a welcome. The Hispanic woman had her thick chocolate hair pulled back in a ponytail and wore a colorful, loose-fitting dress and multicolored glasses. She had grandkids who lived out of state, and their pictures dotted her walls and shelves. She’d told Ivy that her husband had passed away ten years ago, and she’d never had the desire to remarry. Ivy had understood the sentiment, but for a different reason. Where Lina’s marriage had been wonderful and her husband had been her partner in every way, Ivy’s marriage had been lacking in so many things—companionship, communication, trust.
The girls were huddled around the coffee table, painting pictures. They wore oversize button-up shirts over their clothes, and they were concentrating so hard they didn’t notice her arrival.
“Hi, loves.” She knelt beside them and was quickly tackled by three strong hugs.
The next two minutes were filled with descriptions of their day—what they’d played and eaten and how much fun they’d had. After a short checkup with Lina over how the time had really gone, Ivy wrangled the three of them into the Suburban. She’d thought they might nod off on the drive home—Lina had said no one had napped today—but they all managed to stay awake, filling every moment with anecdotes.
“Mommy, are we going to Ms. Lina’s again tomorrow? Or are we going to Nana and Pop-pop’s in California?” A glance in the rearview mirror confirmed Reese had asked the question while staring out the window, her little mind in overdrive as usual. “She said she has something fun planned for tomorrow.” The wistfulness in her voice created an ache under Ivy’s ribs.
“Yes, you’re all going back to Ms. Lina’s tomorrow. We’re not going to Nana and Pop-pop’s house until the second week in May, and there are a lot of days between now and then. Which means lots more art and playing. Okay?”
Reese nodded, her concerns momentarily abated.
The girls had suffered after their father’s demise. While they didn’t know the details of what had happened—though someday Ivy would have the painful privilege of explaining it to them—they understood their father’s death and absence and the strange twist their life had taken. Their friends, gone. Their home, gone. Everything they’d known, gone.
Ivy was incredibly grateful that they were enjoying their time at Lina’s so much. It appeased the doubts that had surfaced when Ivy had communicated the change in plans to her parents. The delay had not been well received by them. They’d adamantly argued with her decision to stay in Westbend, however temporary it was. And they most definitely didn’t understand her reasons for opening the café for Charlie. And why would they? They had plenty of money and were all set to rescue Ivy and their granddaughters. And while Ivy appreciated the safety net, she wasn’t ready to jump into it quite yet. She’d asked her parents to be patient with her even if they didn’t agree with her choice.
At that, Dad had grunted and removed himself from the conversation. Her mom had spent the next five minutes ignoring everything Ivy had said, continuing to plead with her to be logical and think of the girls.
As if Ivy thought of anyone else.
Despite their doubts, Ivy felt like she was being logical. The reference from Charlie plus the experience she was gaining plus the chance to prove to herself that she was capable of taking care of her girls on her own... she needed all of it. Even if it was only short-term.
They pulled into the ranch drive, and a strange sense of home settled around Ivy. Maybe that was a gift from God after the reminder of the disquieting conversation with her parents.
The next two hours were spent making dinner—grilled cheese sandwiches on the hot plate Charlie had loaned to her—cuddling with the girls, hearing more about their day, playing games and deciding on outfits and breakfast for tomorrow. Planning ahead was the only way Ivy was juggling her new schedule. She’d never worked full-time after the girls’ births, and it was an adjustment for all of them, but the triplets were rising to the challenge.
The four of them were emotionally and physically closer in the cozy bunkhouse than they’d ever been in their large, rambling house with the playroom and the professionally designed treehouse in the perfectly landscaped backyard.
At the ranch, the girls played outside and made up games purely from imagination. They were more creative here than they had been with everything they could have ever wanted at their fingertips back in Connecticut.
By seven o’clock, the girls were done. No naps along with the adjustment of going to Lina’s each day had the three of them heading straight to meltdown town. Lola’s propensity to be bossy was at its highest levels, Reese was whimpering over everything and Sage suggested to her sisters that they should climb up to the top bunk and take turns jumping down onto pillows.
Ivy directed everyone to don pajamas and brush their teeth, then settled them in the bunks. Sage and Reese were sharing the bottom bunk tonight, because Ivy had put a stop to one of the girls sleeping on the floor. That way she could sneak in to check on them at night without disturbing whoever was on the floor, and they weren’t squirreling around climbing in and out of each other’s beds.
Whichever girl was “first” for the day got the top bunk to themselves.
Ivy had implemented the rotating system when the girls had grown old enough to argue over who got to go first for everything.
Each day one of the girls was first, second or third, and they rotated through the order so that everyone was “first” on a revolving schedule. It avoided silly fights. All she had to do was ask whose day it was, and the girls would fall into line, sometimes begrudgingly, but since they didn’t want anyone to mess with their “first” day, no one bucked the system.
Ivy played a bedtime story on the girls’ tablet, and the three of them all dropped off in ten minutes. Astounding.
Ms. Lina deserved an award for not only wrangling the girls all day but exhausting them to the point that they went to sleep easily.
Ivy entered the bedroom and winced at the bag of clothes that had fallen into the dirt when she’d been moving things inside the bunkhouse. She’d placed it on the bed this morning so that she’d remember to do laundry tonight. Most of the muddy items were for cold weather, and the sky was spitting snow yet again. With what the girls had already worn, they were running low on outfits. She could no longer avoid the need to do laundry...or the man who owned the house with the laundry set in it.
She’d talked herself out of attempting the Laundromat in town with the girls because she valued her sanity.
She sent a text to Finn.
I’m sorry to bug you, but would you mind if I did a couple loads of laundry?
She changed into yoga pants, tennis shoes and a comfortable sweatshirt, then gathered everything that needed to be washed as she waited for his answer. Ten minutes later, she had it.
Go ahead. I’m not at the house anyway.
Ivy made sure the video monitor that connected to the app on her phone was working before sneaking out the front door of the bunkhouse and locking it behind her. The wind whipped cold moisture under the collar of her jacket and down her spine as she stood outside and confirmed on the app screen that none of the girls had moved or woken.
Leaning into the burst
s of wind, she made her way to Finn’s house. The ranch truck with an attached trailer cut through the snowy night and came to a halt near the barn. Finn jumped out and ran around to the back of the trailer. Ivy’s view of what he was removing from it was blocked, but Finn’s haste was palpable.
Her feet switched directions without her permission. She found Finn in the barn, hurriedly scrubbing down a calf with a towel while others stood by. She dropped her bag of clothing in the corner and approached him.
“What’s wrong? What’s going on?” Were they sick? What was happening?
Finn jerked back in surprise, obviously having no idea of her presence. “Nothing yet. The weather turned and the calves are too young to survive the cold and wet. I’m just moving them inside.”
“By yourself?”
Finn finished his ministrations and stood. “Yes. Both of my hands are off tonight. I was hoping the weather wouldn’t be bad enough to warrant this, but the drop in temperature along with the moisture is too much.”
“I’ll help.”
At Ivy’s declaration, his brow furrowed. “Where are the girls?”
“Asleep.” She fumbled to remove her phone from her pocket and showed him the video of them. No one had so much as rolled over from their original position.
He considered the screen. “What if one of them wakes up? I’ll handle this. The girls need you.”
He moved on to the next calf, and Ivy grew bold. She stepped next to him and stole the towel from his hand. “If anything happens, I can easily check on them. It’s only a few yards from here. And I locked the door. They can’t wander outside or anything.”
“I still don’t think it’s a good idea.”
“You don’t have a choice.” Ivy mimicked Finn’s movements on the next calf. After about thirty seconds of silence, he gave in and left the barn. The truck engine roared to life, and Ivy’s shoulders dropped as air rushed from her lungs. “Sometimes you just have to stand your ground, am I right?” The calf she’d rubbed down bellowed in answer.
Ivy continued the one-sided conversation, hoping the sound of her voice was soothing to the animals and not alarming. “You’re going to be just fine. And so are your...siblings or cousins or whatever you cattle refer to each other as. Finn’s going to make sure you’re all safe, okay?”
And even though she’d only known the man for a little over two weeks, Ivy was strangely confident he’d do exactly that.
And strangely victorious that she would be there to help him accomplish it.
* * *
With the last few calves loaded, Finn made his final retreat to the barn. Each time he’d returned, Ivy had been there, working continuously to bring the animals back from their frozen state. He’d shown her the supplemental feed, and she’d also begun bottle-feeding them per his directions.
He unloaded the calves.
“Keep them separate.” Ivy directed him with a wave of her hand. “This group’s been fed.”
Finn’s jaw loosened as he followed her order. Not all of the calves had been fed, but more than he’d expected. How had she gotten so much done in the time he’d been gone?
He joined Ivy with another bottle and worked through the remaining cattle. Between the hay, the shared warmth from the calves and the heat lamp, the barn was toasty enough for the animals to survive the night, but Finn would still get up in a few hours to check on them.
“How are the girls doing?” Finn didn’t like that they were in the bunkhouse unattended, but Ivy was the parent, not him.
“They’re doing great. I went back to the bunkhouse while you were gone. No one’s moved. Ms. Lina must have had them run a couple of miles today.”
His mouth curved to match hers.
“How come you didn’t have to do this during the other snowstorm? The night the girls and I slid off the road?”
“Because the calves weren’t born yet. They started dropping after that.”
“Ah. I see.”
Finn switched from feeding one calf to another. “Gage Frasier—I’m not sure if you’ve met him at church. He’s married to Emma. She’s one of the Wilder siblings who run Wilder Guest Ranch. I used to work there back in the day. That’s how I ended up deciding I wanted to settle near Westbend. Anyway, Gage inherited his uncle’s ranch a couple years back, and he switched to summer calving. Says it prevents issues like this and has increased his profitability. I need to talk to him about it sometime.” Finn wouldn’t mind not spending his spring chasing calves, attempting to save them from freezing temps or snowstorms that could take them under.
“Would I have met him at the cattlemen’s dinner?”
“No. Emma’s sister, Mackenzie, was pregnant and went into labor that day, so they were with family. Mackenzie’s husband is Jace Hawke. Evan Hawke’s brother. Evan is married to Addie, Charlie’s good friend.”
Ivy stared at him. “I have no idea what you just said.”
He laughed. “Me, either. Suffice to say, you can play Six Degrees with pretty much everyone in Westbend and find a connection.”
When they finished feeding the last batch, Ivy straightened and placed a hand on her lower back. Not used to this kind of work, no doubt. Not that it had showed tonight. She’d hung in with the best of them.
“I’m guessing you didn’t get your laundry done.”
The bag was still in the corner of the barn where she’d first dropped it. “Nope. That’s okay. The girls can re-wear some of the things without stains. We’ll be fine.”
“Speaking of the girls...you should check on them. I’ll bring you something to warm you up. It’s hard to get the chill out of your bones on a night like tonight.”
“Oh, you don’t have to do that. I’ll be fine.”
“You don’t have a choice.”
Ivy’s smile blossomed when he repeated the phrase she’d said earlier, and he ignored the way his heart hitched in response.
“Okay. I’m going to shower when I get back to the bunkhouse. Due to all of the calves’—” she paused as if searching for the right word “—bodily functions that I’ve encountered tonight. I might have to burn this clothing, which is disappointing, since these are my favorite yoga pants.”
“We’ll get them clean. Don’t light the match just yet. Can you handle coffee at this time of night?”
“Yep. I’ll still sleep like a baby. Especially after all of that.”
“Okay good. I’ll see you in twenty then.” The last thing Finn needed was to worry about Ivy catching a cold because she’d been helping him out. He’d make sure she was good to go and then hit the sack himself for a few hours.
They leaned into the weather as they headed for their respective homes, Ivy toting the bag of laundry back to the bunkhouse with her. He would offer to throw a load in for her, but he figured both of them were too exhausted to deal with that tonight.
Finn started a pot of decaf, then showered and dressed in clean jeans, boots and a waffle-knit long-sleeved shirt. He poured the coffee into a thermos and tossed a package of Girl Scout cookies one of the munchkins at church had sold him into a bag. He then added a mug and some of the creamers Charlie had left at his house since he remembered Ivy using them. Maybe she had her own at the bunkhouse, maybe not.
He bundled up and walked over to Ivy’s. She must have been watching for him, because the door opened before he could knock. Finn had planned to deliver the hot liquid and sugar, then depart, but Ivy pulled him inside.
“It’s okay. They won’t wake up.”
The sound of ocean waves came from the girls’ partially open door, and Ivy scooted across the space to close it fully. The two of them settled into the chairs that filled the small living room/would-be-kitchen. Finn retrieved the mug, coffee and cookies, placing them on the coffee table, and Ivy’s eyes widened with pleasure at the last item.
“The mint ones are my favo
rites.” After doctoring her coffee, she took two. “Aren’t you going to have any coffee?”
“I...didn’t grab two mugs.”
She hopped up and came back with a paper coffee cup for him.
Ivy had her phone, app open, on the coffee table, and they both watched as one of the girls—Finn couldn’t tell which from the black-and-white screen—rotated in her bed. After that, silence and no more fidgeting.
“Do they always sleep this well?”
“Once they’re out, yes. Otherwise I would never have considered leaving them here while I was in the barn. But usually getting them down is much more of a marathon than it was tonight. They pretty much always manage to find some excuse to get out of bed, like needing a glass of water. Or needing to use the restroom. Or that one sister is making funny noises and bothering the other two. Or they come up with a million random stories or questions.” She finished her second cookie. “The serving size on these should be one whole package.”
Finn’s mouth curved. He liked this relaxed, open version of Ivy. Maybe a little too much.
“What are you doing here, Ivy?” He cringed at his harsh inquiry. He hadn’t meant to say something like that. The plan had been to thank her, not interrogate her.
Ivy didn’t flinch, didn’t act surprised. She blew on her coffee before taking a sip. “What do you actually want to know, Finn?”
She didn’t beat around the bush. He respected that. Maybe even appreciated it. “I mean, besides my sister pushing you toward staying, because I know how she can be, how come you decided to open the café instead of just moving on to your parents’? Especially when that is your final plan.”
“It is my final plan. I just... Ever since my marriage failed and the girls lost their dad and we lost...everything, I’ve known that I would have to start over at my parents’ because I’m not qualified to do anything anymore. I haven’t worked outside of a few hours at a clothing store in years. I’ve been a stay-at-home mom. Feels like I don’t count out in the real world sometimes.”
