I wake to dawn. A single ray of sunlight streams between my curtains and warms my face. Blinking the sleep from my brain, I sit up.

“Dad!” I call, excited to be up and ready to help him.

Then the world comes crashing back.

Dad is gone.

I’m alone.

Suddenly, I feel like I weight a million pounds. Tears sting in my eyes as I flop back onto my bed. That same warm sun beam lights my face and blinds me. I stare into it, peering between the curtains and catching a glimpse of blue sky beyond.

It’s not fair.

How can the morning be so beautiful when I feel so terrible?

Outside my window, I hear birds singing their hearts out. The sound used to make me smile, but now everything just hurts. Internally, I search for a reason to get out of bed. Something. Anything.

Jenny’s new colt.

I sit up and grab some clean clothes. Dressing in a hurry, I make a stop in the bathroom. Scrub face, relieve self, avoid my eyes in the mirror. Drag the brush through my hair. Gather up the mess of reddish brown hair and twist it up behind my head more for getting it out of my way than fashion.

Then I catch my glance in the mirror.

It’s like time stops as I stare at this stranger. This imposter. Who is this skinny girl with the too pale skin? I look like a walking corpse. Like death personified. In this moment, I hate her. I remember how I looked before dad got sick. I was stronger then. My arms were more muscled. My body filled this stupid tank top then.

Now I’m just a skinny waif that’s clearly not able to take care of herself.

No wonder Mr. Knight thought I wasn’t the owner of this place.

I don’t look like I could own anything other than a permanent bed in the local hospital.

What would dad say if he saw me now?

Shoving aside the thought, I leave the bathroom. On the porch, I grab my boots and shove my feet in them. With quick steps, I rush to the barn. Inside, the heat and horse smell hits me like a truck and I close my eyes and smile, feeling a tiny sense of peace. In mind’s eye, I can see dad here, mucking out the stalls and talking to the horses as he goes.

But when I open my eyes, it’s just me looking out over a sea of faces peering curiously at me over stall doors.

“Good morning,” I say, watching ears swivel and lock on my voice. Gathering up the tattered edges of my courage, I make my way to Jenny’s stall. I’ve got this. I can handle this life. I’m stronger than this.

“Hi Jenny,” I say, peeking over the stall door. Past her, her colt is nursing, his little tail swishing back and forth like he’s feeling frisky. I rub her face as I watch him. “We’ll get you guys outside for some running time today, okay?” I say. She nickers and rubs my shoulder with her nose. I pat her neck as she lips at my hair.

“Knock it off, little lady,” I tell her.

With quick hands, I make rounds, pitching feed into bins. When waters are filled, I begin to take horses out of stalls, one by one. I brush them out, talking to them all the while about everything and nothing. When they’re brushed, I pick out their hooves, then grab the wheel barrow to muck out stalls.

I leave one.

Some part of my brain remembers that I’ll be teaching that sweet-voiced little girl today. And part of my method is to teach everything from the ground up. She’ll learn to muck, to brush the horse, to pick hooves. Everything.

Because the only way to respect an animal is to care for it.

When I’m finally done, the sun is warning me it’s nearing one. Only a few more hours to finish up the tasks I need to get done for the day.

With trembling hands, I halter up Jenny. There’s no need to rope her colt; he’ll follow his momma. “Let’s get you out to pasture,” I say to her and she tosses and lowers her head several times before settling and following me out.

When they’re out in rolling green grasses, I stop to watch them for a while. Jenny’s ready to let out some of the steam she’s feeling at being cooped up so long. And her colt is bouncing around like grass is both the scariest and most amazing thing he’s ever experienced.

Dad would have loved this.

My phone rings and I pull it out of my pocket.

“Hi Emma!” There’s no mistaking the exuberant voice on the other end of the line.

“Olivia!” I say, glad to hear from her. And it dawns on me; I’ve been looking forward to giving her lessons. Her excitement is infectious. There’s an excitement in her that’s so pure I find myself hoping I’ll feel it with her as she learns.

“We’re here early. Is that okay?” She sounds so scared I feel bad for her.

I can’t help but smile. “It’s fine. Your dad can get the annoying paperwork out of the way first and then we’ll have a ton of fun.”

I can hear the excitement in her words as she speaks to someone I can barely hear in the background. But he sounds handsome.

Stop it, I chide myself. Still, my heart kicks into overdrive.

“We’re parked out by the house,” Olivia says.

“I’ll be there in a second,” I say, walking toward the house. As I circle around the house, I see a familiar truck.

No way.

A little girl piles out of the truck and races toward me. I catch her as she launches herself at me in a genuinely warm hug. But over her head, I meet the brilliant blue eyes of the one man I don’t want to see right now.

Anger backs up my throat like bile as I stroke the girl’s hair. She clings to me as he moves toward me with an air that’s decidedly at ease. But the look in his eyes is all victorious.

I want to slap him.

“Hello Emma,” he says, his throaty voice sending my pulse into a gallop that leaves me feeling faint. How dare he?

Olivia finally pulls back and looks up at me. “Your stomach is rumbling,” she says with all the innocence of a child. I smile at her.

“I must have missed lunch,” I say, realizing I didn’t eat breakfast or lunch. “Why don’t we go in? I can make you a snack,” I say, glad I’d decided to do a bit of shopping yesterday. The part of me that wants to ignore Mr. Knight wins out, and I lead Olivia toward the house. When her fingers slip in mine, my heart melts.

And I find myself wondering if this was all planned.

Did he seriously coach her to make her get me off guard so he could strike? Is anyone that much of an asshole? Could anyone use their child like that?

I would tell him to leave right now if not for Olivia. I can’t step on and crush her dreams because her dad is an ass. I can’t turn her away and punish her because of who her dad is. But damn it, this is a wrench in my plans. Because I know the second we’re alone, he’s going to try to get me to sell.

Because men like Mr. Knight don’t understand the word no.