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Poppy makes a sound that cracks down the middle. Then she breaks.

She steps into me without asking, arms wrapping around my neck. I freeze for a beat, then my hand comes up, settling against the back of her head and pulling her closer.

She shakes against me, small and sharp, her fingers twisting into my shirt.

If Russ were here⁠—

I cut the thought off.

Not helpful.

She cries until her breathing slows, face pressed hard against my chest.

Apparently, I’m a crying blanket for the Rains women.

Wouldn’t have it any other way.

When she finally pulls back, she scrubs at her face with her sleeve. “Sorry,” she mumbles.

I shake my head and hand her the notebook again. You’re strong. Stronger than you think. Just like your mom.

She reads it slowly, then gives me a quick kiss on the cheek that punches straight through my ribs. “Thank you, Leon.”

I clear my throat and nudge the bow toward her with my foot. Again.

She steps back. Without looking at me, she whispers before nocking another arrow. “What are your intentions with us?”

My body stills. I blink once, then I lift a brow. Well, damn.

She plants one hand on her hip, bow still in the other. “I mean with my mom and me.”

I drag a hand down my face and pull out the notebook because apparently I’m being interrogated in the woods by a ten-year-old.

I want to be there for you both. I hesitate, then add: If that’s okay with you.

She studies the page, then me. “Okay.”

Just like that.

Simple.

Like she didn’t just hand me something fragile and enormous.

“You’ve saved us twice already,” she says. “Maybe it’s time we save you.”

My chest goes tight.

Then she adds, softer, “Mom says actions speak louder than words.” She pauses, then adds, “Since you can’t talk, your actions speak louder than most.”

This kid.

“And yours say you’d treat her right.”

There’s no doubt in her voice.

Just belief.

I’ve taken hits harder than this and kept standing, but this nearly takes me out at the knees.