Page 140 of Dusty Spur Ranch Cowboys

She doesn’t fight it.

She cries into my shirt while I hold her close, wishing I knew how to fix broken promises as easily as broken fences.

“I’m sorry, baby.”

A light knock breaks the silence.

Arizona stands in the doorway with her guitar case in one hand and a paper bag hanging from the other. Her smile fades as she takes in Sadie’s blotchy cheeks before looking at me.

She doesn’t ask what happened.

She sets the bag down beside the door and walks over. “Mind if I join the pity party?”

Sadie wipes her face again. “My mom couldn’t come.”

Arizona sits cross legged on the carpet. “Yeah.” She nods. “That really sucks.” She reaches into the paper bag. “I was saving this for after dinner, but I reckon today’s earned an exception.”

She pulls out a soft leather guitar strap stamped with a trail of galloping horses.

“They’re horses,” Sadie breathes.

“I thought you might like it if you ever get a guitar of your own.”

Sadie runs her fingers over the tooling before looking up. “It’s the color of Cinnamon. Can we play?”

“I brought the guitar, didn’t I?” She opens the case and settles the guitar across her lap. “Today’s lesson is extremely important.”

Sadie shifts a little closer. “More important than chords?”

“Much.” Arizona lowers her voice like she’s sharing a state secret. “It’s about a cow.”

Sadie frowns. “A cow?”

“The bravest cow in the Pacific Northwest.”

“What made her brave?”

“She entered a rodeo queen competition.”

Sadie’s eyebrows climb. “Cows can do that?”

“This one refused to read the rulebook.”

That earns the tiniest smile.

Arizona starts strumming. “There once was a cow in glittering boots, who fancied herself in sequins and suits…”

Sadie wrinkles her nose. “Cows don’t wear suits.”

“This one had confidence.”

“Did she win?”

“Absolutely not.”

Sadie blinks. “Why?”

“She kept eating the flowers.”