Total pages in book: 116
Estimated words: 111732 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 559(@200wpm)___ 447(@250wpm)___ 372(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 111732 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 559(@200wpm)___ 447(@250wpm)___ 372(@300wpm)
“It’s nobody’s fault,” I say. “Ripley suddenly thought she was six feet tall.”
Ripley points at her nearby pony. “Can I finish da parade now?”
“No, honey,” I say. “We’ve had enough excitement for one day.”
“I want to finish the parade,” Ripley insists. She puts her little hands on her hips and glares at me through her glasses for emphasis.
Max leans into me. “Let her get back on the horse, babe. Literally. There’s a reason that’s an age-old saying.”
I look behind me, assuming my father is around here somewhere. He is. Right behind me with Gigi and Mr. Walters. When my eyes meet Dad’s, he nods his agreement with Max.
“Okay, fine,” I say. I tug on Ripley’s arm. “But no wiggling this time. Stay put.”
“I will!”
“I’ll walk alongside you,” Max says. “To make sure of it.”
To my surprise, Ripley cheers. Apparently, Max tagging along won’t cramp her cowgirl style at all. On the contrary, she’s thrilled to have him as her personal escort.
“Come on, cowgirl,” Max says. He scoops Ripley up and carries her in his strong arms to her vacated pony while the rest of us head back to our blankets.
As we walk, Mr. and Mrs. Walters apologize profusely. And again, I assure them it’s nobody’s fault but Ripley’s. She’s had careful riding instruction all week long. She knew to sit there and hold on. It was a total fluke.
When apologies have died down and everyone relaxes again, the group watches Max with Ripley. Mrs. Walters leans into me and says, “Max is so darling with Ripley. And Ripley obviously worships the ground he walks on.”
My stomach tightens. “Yes, she does.”
As promised, Max is walking protectively alongside Ripley on her pony as the parade slowly winds its way along its route, and the sight of his big hand gripping her tiny leg to make sure she remains steady and safe is doing crazy things to me.
“Ripley was right, by the way,” Mrs. Walters says to me. “Max one hundred percent teared up when he saw her on that pony. Same as you. Wayne saw it before me. He’s the one who nudged my arm and told me to look at Max’s sweet facial expression. He definitely loves your little girl like his own. He’s a keeper, for sure.”
I feel sick. “Yes, he is.”
“It’s been a long time since Wayne and I have met a couple who reminds us of ourselves. Wayne and I believe in soulmates, and it’s been such a joy to be around another pair of them this week.”
My lower lip trembles, but I take a deep breath and stuff my rising emotion down. “Thank you so much. Max and I have loved being around you and Wayne this week, too.” Shit. I’m crying. Big, soggy tears. Only this time, my tears are most definitely not borne of joy.
29
MAX
“Will you read me another one, Maxy-Milly?” Ripley whispers in the tiniest possible voice as she looks up at me from her pillow.
I look at Marnie for permission, and she shakes her head.
“Nah, Mommy says two is what you get tonight, cowgirl,” I say. “And she’s right. You’ve had a big day, and we’ve got a long travel day tomorrow. Time to get some sleep.”
I’ve never helped put Ripley to bed before. Marnie has done it on her own every night this week after I’ve given Ripley a hug and goodnight kiss in the main room of our cabin. But after the scare we had earlier today during the pony parade, I found myself following Marnie and Ripley into the bedroom to get just a little more time with my little cowgirl—I guess, to convince my jangly nerves, once again, that she’s truly okay. In fact, there’s not a scratch on her other than a little bruise on her leg from where she fell. But knowing it could have been a whole lot worse has been wreaking havoc on my nervous system all day long.
“Will you both stay till I fall asleep?” Ripley asks. “Dat way, I won’t have a nightmeero.”
“Of course, we will,” Marnie says, as I say, “You bet, sweetie pie.”
Ripley closes her eyes, and my heart skips a beat at her adorableness in repose. Her little eyelashes set against her skin. Her rosebud mouth turning slack.
“I love you, Mommy,” Ripley whispers, her voice already relaxed.
“I love you, too, peanut.”
“I love you, Maxy.”
I’ve never said it back to her. I’ve thanked her. Shucked and jived and figured out all sorts of deflections in reply. But this time, the words tumble out easily. “I love you, too, princess.”
Ripley’s eyes shoot open, and a wide smile splits her little face. Apparently, this being the first time I’ve said it back hasn’t gone unnoticed. In fact, she’s lit up. The opposite of what we want her to be while trying to get her to fall asleep.