* *
The month after he first met his daughter sped by for Dylan. And even though he hadn’t intended to become a regular fixture at Pegasus, that’s exactly what had happened. It started out innocently. It was an opportunity for him to spend time with Hope on the weekends. Then something unexpected happened: the place got to him. The kids, the horses, the other volunteers...the parents...all of them had an impact. He discovered that he was surfing less and mucking out stalls more. He was handy with a hammer and Aggie had him on her radar. On the weekends, he traded his Testoni lace-ups for rubber muckers and his polo button-ups for Pegasus T-shirts. Instead of going out with his friends, he went to bed early on Friday night so he could be up early and fresh for the riders on Saturday morning.
And always, always, there was Hope. She was the main event. He found himself missing her during the week and regretting having to say goodbye on Sundays. He didn’t mind the status quo for now, but this arrangement wouldn’t work in the long term. He wanted to have a say in Hope’s future; he wanted to be her dad.
“Hey...” Mackenzie appeared at the entrance of the feed room. As usual, she was dressed in oversize clothing, long sleeves, and her hair was haphazardly pulled up into a ponytail. Dylan wished she would fix herself up every once in a while.
“Hey...” Dylan pulled a bale of hay off the tall stack in the corner and dropped it on the ground.
“Where’s Hope?”
Dylan used the bottom of his T-shirt to wipe the sweat that was dripping off his face, exposing his stomach. She was human. She looked. And her eyes latched on to the barely visible trail of hair leading from Dylan’s belly button directly to his...
Dylan dropped his shirt; when she looked up at him, he was smiling at her. His expression told the story; he’d caught her red-handed.
“She’s helping Aggie with Hank—he’s got a pretty nasty gash on his fetlock and you know how he feels about anyone messing with his hooves.” Dylan hoisted the bale of hay onto his shoulder. “Excuse me.”
Mackenzie stepped to the side so Dylan could move through the door. She had watched Dylan closely over the past couple of weekends. She couldn’t deny that he had a special way with all the kids, especially Hope. They all loved him. When they could, they trailed after him, and he was happy to let them. He had become the Pegasus Pied Piper. It was...endearing. And Aggie, who was pretty tough to impress, had come to rely on Dylan as part of her small circle of trusted volunteers.
“Do you feel like lending a hand?” Dylan cut the twine holding the bale of hay together.
“Sure.”
Loaded down with armfuls of hay, Dylan tackled one side of the barn and Mackenzie tackled the other. When Mackenzie reached Hank’s stall, she tossed the hay over the stall fence for the old gelding.
“Hey, Aggie. Time to wrap up, kiddo,” Mackenzie said to Hope, who was watching Aggie treat Hank’s wound. “You have school tomorrow.”
“Okay, Mom...I’ll be right there.”
Mackenzie waited for Hope at the barn entrance and watched the sun set on the horizon. All day, every day, it seemed as if she was running around like a chicken with her head cut off—monitoring Hope’s health, helping Hope with homework, working in the bakery, paying the bills, shopping for groceries, doing the laundry...one chore led into the next, one day bled into the other. She couldn’t remember the last time she had actually allowed herself to just stop and enjoy a sunset.
“It’s going to be a full moon.” Dylan came up beside her.
Not wanting to expend her limited resource of energy on small talk, Mackenzie only nodded. She wanted to enjoy the view just a little bit longer before she had to rally the energy to cook dinner and do a load of laundry. She was having a perfectly lovely time until she felt something crawling on her neck. Startled, she slapped at the side of her neck and tried to spot the offending bug.
Dylan, looking sheepish, held a piece of hay in his fingertips. “You had a piece of hay stuck in your hair.”
“Don’t do that!” Mackenzie punched Dylan hard on the arm. “I thought it was a bug!”
Dylan rubbed his arm. “Man...you really know how to pack a punch...”
“Of course I do... You and Jett and the rest of your idiot friends thought it was hilarious to ambush me with dead bugs all the time! I had to learn how to defend myself.”
“I never did that to you!”
“Yeah...you did.”
“Well, I don’t remember doing that, but if you said that I did, then I suppose I’m sorry.”
“Your apology, however halfhearted, is accepted.”
Dylan glanced over his shoulder; Aggie and Hope were coming out of Hank’s stall and his window of opportunity was about to close.
“Mackenzie...” Dylan crossed his arms to give them something to do. “I was wondering...do you want to come over for dinner Friday night?”
“Um...we can’t. Hope’s spending the weekend with one of her friends from Relay For Life. I don’t normally let her spend an overnight, but this family knows the drill because their daughter has ALL as well, so...”
“I know. Hope told me. That’s all she talked about today was her sleepover, which she never gets to do. What I meant was...do you want to come over Friday night for dinner...with me?”
Mackenzie lifted her brows questioningly. “Why?”
Dylan looked at her as if he couldn’t quite figure her out. Perhaps he was used to automatic yeses to all his invitations.
“Because...” he said. “I think it’d be good for us to spend some time together. There are a lot of things we still need to figure out. Don’t you agree?”
“I suppose.” Up until now, she had been very good at dodging Dylan’s attempts to sit down and discuss how they were going to move forward as coparents.
Dylan tucked his hands into his pockets and lifted his shoulders questioningly. “Oh, come on, Mackenzie...what’s the worst that could happen? If nothing else, you’ll get a free meal out of the deal. And, I really didn’t want to brag...”
“Of course not...”
“But I have been told that I’m pretty amazing with my grill.”
Mackenzie stood in front of her closet, staring at the sad collection of old clothing hanging askew on wire hangers. After several attempts at finding something even remotely fashionable to wear to Dylan’s house for dinner, Mackenzie groaned dramatically and threw herself face down on her unmade bed. Dylan always looked so put together; she wanted at least to try, for her own sake, to look halfway decent for a change. But, in truth, she didn’t really want to go at all. What she really wanted to do with her first kid-free weekend was to procure a bag of ranch-flavored Doritos and to watch the Food Network in
