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“What time are we hitting the trail?” she asked, sounding like she’d heard the line from an old cowboy movie, and I bit back a grin. Layla could neither tell the time or knew what ‘the trail’ was.
“I figured we’d have a snack and a drink then we’d saddle up. How does that sound?”
“Like a plan,” she replied, and I grinned again.
Bending toward her, I lifted her up into my arms. Wrapping her little ones around me she squeezed me tight. “I missed you so much, Daddy,” she mumbled into my neck.
“I missed you too, Baby.” Inhaling her sweet little scent was my smell of home. Pulling away from me, she cupped her hands to my face, her usual way of grabbing my attention and holding my focus.
“It’s you and me… nobody else?” she asked.
I glanced toward Harper, who quickly averted her eyes by turning her head, and I nodded. “Yep, Layla, just me and my girl.” I knew it was a low blow, but Harper had made it clear the day before she wanted nothing from me. If I drew a reaction, it was on her.
Sliding Layla to her feet, I took her hand and led her inside the house. Entering the kitchen again I saw Matty had pre-empted the snack and drink and had laid a pitcher of milk, freshly baked bread and some sandwich meats on the table.
Inhaling deeply, I sat quietly making up a small sandwich while Layla filled me in on her day at school. Harper had gone straight up to her room and I decided to let her stew for a day, because as much as I wanted my thing with her resolved, Layla came first.
Watching the excitement almost burst from Layla’s chest as I sat her on her pony was an uplifting feeling. Holding onto her reins, I led her sedate little pony, Glitter, out of the paddock as I sat on my own mare, Elbe.
Stuart had been giving Layla riding lessons on a little Shetland pony since she was old enough to hold the reins, but these days it kept her newer pony, Glitter, company in the stables. This ride was the first time Layla had been outside of the paddock with me on Glitter. I had a lot of trust in the fifteen-year-old and I’d bought her because her temperament was placid and she didn’t spook easily.
“I love your cowboy hat, Daddy,” Layla said, chatting easily.
“Me too, Sweetheart; it’s very cool, right? Makes me look like the Lone Ranger.”
“Who’s that?”
I smirked, “Never mind, it was a character in a movie before your time.”
Leading her down to the meadow, we followed the river east along the south side of the property. We weren’t going far, but I took it slow. An hour in the saddle felt like a day at Layla’s age, so we stopped at a place where I knew it was safe and we set up camp.
Naturally I cheated with a new pop-up tent Harper had ordered online and there was a box in my saddlebag crammed full of fresh morning rolls, beans, sausages, relish, and tomatoes, but we gathered dry wood and I taught her how to safely make an open fire. The look on her face was sheer delight when it began to smoke and the small kindling, tumbleweed, and twigs caught fire.
Taking a small cast iron frying pan, we cooked some sausages and beans over the fire and Layla behaved as if it were the best meal she’d ever tasted. When night fell, I took our sleeping bags outside of the tent and spread them on the ground, then lay my baby down on her back.
As we were a little way into March, it was still chilly once the sun had gone down, so I covered her up with a thermal blanket and I lay down beside her. All around us was silent, except for the crackling logs on the fire, as we both gazed up at the clear night sky.
It didn’t matter that I hadn’t paid attention during the astronomy lessons in science, and because Layla knew no better, I made up stories about the ones I could make out, like the Big Dipper, the Three Sisters, and Orion’s Belt.
Lying beside me, her little head turned left and right and her huge doe eyes were totally enthralled by everything I told her. She even added some narrative when she tapped into her own imagination.
I was so impressed by my daughter’s ability to adapt to her new situation, because it was far removed from the comfort and safety of her bed, yet she showed no fear from being out there with me.
“Which one is Mommy?” she asked, and I suddenly stopped mid-sentence from an explanation I was attempting to make about the Milky Way.
I’d never made mention of Grace being a star and I guessed it was something Harper had told her in an effort to comfort my daughter.
“Which one do you think?” I asked, feeling concerned I’d say something wrong.
“That one,” she said pointing to the North Star.
“There are millions of stars up there. You sound pretty certain in your choice,” I replied.
“I am because Harper said Mommy was the brightest star in the sky, and if I needed to find her, she’d be easy to spot.” My heart clenched because the significance of the sentence told me Harper had anticipated times when my daughter would feel lonely and need something to identify her mom with.
“Ah, that’s why you knew.” I stated, agreeing with her choice.
Turning on her side to face me, she scooted over and nestled in my arms. “Yeah, you’re not going to be a star soon, are you, Daddy?”
