“Where ya going?”

The question comes from behind me. I turn around as I’m zipping up my jacket and face Daniel. He’s holding a black puppy to his chest as he looks up at me.

“Gotta go check on the horses,” I reply.

His eyes get big and his mouth drops open. The surprise doesn’t last long before he’s practically bouncing on his feet. I’ve noticed since they’ve been here that the kid is hyper. The complete opposite of his sister.

“I didn’t know you had horses!” he says excitedly. “I wanna see them! Can I come with you?”

I glance over to the door in the kitchen that leads to a small laundry room where Gwen’s doing her and the kids’ laundry, then look back down at Daniel. With the eager way he’s watching me, there’s no way I can deny this kid, even if I wanted to. And to my surprise, I find that I don’t want to. His exuberant demeanor and honesty is refreshing.

I’ve rarely been around kids, except for my sister Christa’s daughter, who’s only two years old. I’ve only seen the toddler twice, and both times I’ve kept my distance, the painful reminder of what I almost had keeping me from bonding with her. I’m a shit uncle and have apologized to Christa for being so. She says she understands, and I’m sure she does, but I’ve seen the look in her eyes when she’s visited those couple of times. I’ve seen the sadness lurking when I purposely put space between me and her daughter.

I reach for my gloves and lift my chin toward the kitchen. “Go ask your mom.”

“Yah!” he yells, then turns on his foot and runs to the kitchen.

Just as he’s reaching for the doorknob, the door opens and out walks Gwen. He skids to a stop in front of her.

“Whoa there, kid,” she says, holding out her hands. “What’s the rush?”

I slip on my hat and force back a chuckle when Daniel’s words come out way too fast and sound like one long word.

“Mr.AlexanderhashorsesandhesaidIcouldgoseethemwithim.” He pauses just long enough to take a breath. “Can I, Mom? Can I?”

She looks over at me, and I give her a chin lift, letting her know it’s okay. Instead of answering Daniel, she walks over to me with him following her, his head tipped back, looking at her with a pleading look.

“Are you sure it’s okay? Daniel can be… quite rambunctious at times.”

Daniel switches his focus to me, his lips moving as he silently says please over and over again.

“Yeah. We’ll be fine,” I tell her.

“Yes!” Daniel screeches. He shoves the puppy into his mother’s arms and runs to grab his jacket.

“Hat and gloves too, Daniel!” Gwen says, laughing at her son’s animated behavior.

Once he has both on, along with his boots, Gwen stops him when he tries to pass by her. She squats down in front of him and puts the puppy on the floor between her legs. He starts waddling away immediately.

“You listen to Mr. Alexander, you hear? And keep your hat and gloves on the whole time.” He nods rapidly with a big grin, and she zips up his coat to just below his chin.

Before the puppy can get too far away, she scoops him up and stands. Facing me once again, she says, “Please keep a good eye on him.”

As any mother would be, she’s worried about her child being near a large animal. I can’t fault her for that. I actually admire it. She cares a lot for her kids. Anyone can see it by the way she interacts with them and her expression when she looks at them.

I give her a single nod, before turning around and opening the door. A blast of snowy, cold air hits my face when Daniel and I walk down the steps, but he doesn’t seem to mind. His face is still splitting in two with his happy grin.

It’s put down a lot of snow since yesterday and it doesn’t look to be letting up. Earlier this morning, I shoveled a path from the house to the barn and one to the truck, but it’s already several inches deep again. Daniel chooses not to use the path, and instead trudges through the deep parts of the snow. It’s up to his knees and he seems to be struggling a bit, but he’s still determinedly moving forward. I slow my steps to keep pace with him.

“How many horses do you have?” he asks, lifting his leg high and stomping it back down.

“I’ve got two that are mine, but there’s seven in the barn.”

“Wow!” he exclaims. “That’s a lot!”

“Take slow steps just in case there’s something under the snow you can’t see,” I tell him when he stumbles and barely catches himself.

“Why do you have horse that aren’t yours?”

“Because I train them.”

He stops for a minute, his mouth falling open in astonishment. “Really? That’s so cool!” I crack a smile at his enthusiasm.

It’s not toasty warm like the house, but once we step inside the barn, there’s a significant change in temperature. Soft neighs come from the horses as I close the door behind us. Daniel just stands there for several seconds, taking in the few horse heads that are poking out of the stalls.

“Can I pet one?”

I chuckle at the pure wonderment in his tone. Walking over to the basket of apples, I grab out a couple and carry them back over to Daniel.

“How about feeding them a treat?” I hold one out to him.

“Can I really?” He grabs it, looks down at it a moment, then turns his excited eyes up at me.

“Ever fed a horse an apple before?”

“No, sir.”

“Come on. I’ll show you how to do it.”

I lead him over to June’s stall. She’s a black with gray spots Appaloosa. I’ve had her for eight weeks now and she’s about ready to go home to her family.

She neighs softly and tosses her head a couple times as we walk up to her stall. Daniel stops and stares up at her, his mouth hanging open in awe.

“This is June,” I tell him.

June brings her head closer to Daniel, and for a minute I think he’s going to take a step back, but he doesn’t. Brave kid. Horses are big even to adults; to a child they’re enormous.

I pet June along her neck and she lifts her head to me, nudging my shoulder. “Hey, girl.”

I turn to Daniel. “Hold the apple out in your palm. Don’t grip it. Just let it rest in your hand.”

He does as I tell him and holds the apple out. Even for a kid I barely know, his expression is priceless as he watches the horse gently take the apple from his hand. A big smile appears on his face when the horse starts crunching on the fruit.

“Good girl,” I murmur to the horse, and run my hand up and down her muzzle and forehead.

“That was so neat!” He turns to me. “Can we feed another one?”

I smile down at him. “Sure.”

Next, I lead him to Pepe, a solid brown American Azteca. The owners plan to use him as a competition horse. I’ve only had him a few weeks, but he’s taking to training very well. Again, Daniel holds out the apple in his palm and the horse nabs it with his big teeth. It’s amazing to watch the excitement that overcomes the boy’s face. I always enjoy my time with these horses, but seeing it from a kid’s point of view is something to behold.

We feed a couple more of the horses, and with each one, Daniel’s eyes light up even more.

He’s just given Bella an apple, when I ask, “Do you want to pet her?”

He nods so fast it’s a wonder he doesn’t give himself whiplash. I grab him under the arms and hoist him up on my shoulders, putting him more on level with the horse. Bella nudges Daniel’s knee, bringing a giggle from him. Keeping one arm gripped on his leg, I pet Bella’s head and instruct Daniel to do the same.

“She’s so pretty,” he remarks. “Is she one of yours?”

“Yes. Her name is Bella.”

“Hey, Bella,” he says, running the tip of his finger up the horse’s ear.

“Can I ride her?”

I glide my hand up her forehead between her eyes. “Maybe once the weather is better.”

I’m a very private person, preferring to keep company with only myself and the horses, so my answer surprises me. I don’t like people encroaching on my personal space, but in the short time Gwen and her two kids have been here, I’ve found myself enjoying their company more and more. The thought of them possibly coming back to visit doesn’t fill me with dread like it normally would, but instead makes my chest feel lighter. I like having them around, even if it does still feel strange. It’s not a bad strange, just different. I’ve been alone for so long that having them here is… nice. And the thought of training Daniel to ride feels right, like maybe it’s something I’m supposed to do.

I look over to the next stall when I hear a bang. Bandit pops his head out and twists to look at us. He snorts and stomps the ground.

“What’s that horse’s name?” Daniel asks.

“That’s Bandit. He’s one of the ones that isn’t very nice.”

“What’s wrong with him?”

“He’s just making it very difficult to train him,” I answer.

“What’ll happen to him if he can’t be trained?”

I walk over to the barrel of grain, then set Daniel on his feet. “All horses can be trained. Some are just more difficult than others and you have to spend extra time with them.” I hand him a small bucket of oats and scoop out another. “Each horse is different, so you have to alter your training routine to fit each one.”

“Oh.” He turns and looks at Bandit, who’s tossing his head and snorting. “He’s pretty.”

“He is.”

Daniel and I walk over to the first stall, and I top off the oats feeder, then check to see if the water needs to be refilled or the hay replenished. We do this to the rest of the stalls. At each one, Daniel reaches out and touches the horses, a look of pure rapture on his face. When we come to Bandit’s, I tell Daniel to stand back. I’m unsure if Bandit will play nice or not, and I’m not willing to take the chance of Daniel getting hurt.

“You ready to head back in?” I ask him once everything is back in its place.

His shoulders droop and his face loses some of its cheerfulness. “I guess.”

The look of disappointment doesn’t settle well with me, so I try to lighten his mood. “You can come with me when I check on them before bed.” At his excited fist pump, I tack on, “As long as your mom says it’s okay.”

“Yes, sir.” He nods and the smile reappears on his face. I check to make sure he’s still bundled up well before we both walk back out into the cold. He once again chooses to walk in the feet-high snow instead of the path I shoveled.

“Maybe Kelsey will come with us next time,” I suggest, and look over at him.

He grabs a handful of snow in his gloves and smashes it into a ball.

“Nah,” he says, tossing the snowball at a tree. “She never does anything anymore.”

The hurt in his tone is easily heard. He misses his big sister. He may act like he’s not affected by the loss of his father, his young age making it easier, but deep down, he is. He not only lost his dad, but with how Kelsey’s detached herself so much, he lost his sister, too. Poor kid.

“Don’t give up on her, okay?” We both stop walking and he looks over at me. “She’s still really hurt from losing your dad. It takes longer for some people to heal.” He doesn’t say anything, just keeps his eyes on me. “Do you understand what I’m saying?”

He looks down for a moment, then brings his eyes back up to me and nods. “Yeah.” He sniffs and runs a snow-covered glove under his nose. “I just wish she would play with me. We used to always play games.”

His tone and the wounded look in his eyes send shards of pain to my chest. I understand the heartache he’s going through. I walk over to him, making my way through the deep snow, and put a hand on his shoulder.

“She’ll come around. She just needs to figure out how to let go of the pain in her heart first.”

We both start walking again. I stay in the deep snow with him. Once we make it to the porch, we stomp our feet, trying to get the clumps of snow off our boots.

“Can I name one of your puppies?” Daniel asks, slapping his gloves together.

“Sure,” I answer. “Got any ideas yet?”

“Uh-huh. I want to name the black one with the white on his face Pepper, because he looks like a Peppermint Pattie and it’s my favorite candy.”

“That’s a good choice.”

Right as I’m reaching for the doorknob, it’s pulled open and Gwen’s standing there. Not expecting her sudden appearance, I take a step back. Her eyes go from Daniel to me then back down to Daniel.

“Did you have fun?” she asks, stepping back and letting us enter.

“Yes!” Daniel says exuberantly. “I got to feed the horses apples and pet them. They were so pretty, Mom!”

She smiles and sets to helping him unbundle. “I’m glad you had a good time. You about ready for some hot chocolate to warm up? Your hands are freezing.”

I take my hat and gloves off and drop them in the small basket by the door, then hang my coat on the hook and start working on my boots.

“Yeah, but can Mr. Alexander make it again?” he asks, unknowingly insulting his mother’s hot-chocolate-making skills.

She winks at me, then feigns shock. This playful side of Gwen is intriguing to watch. I don’t tell jokes, and I don’t laugh at them. My life is very stale, and it’s the way I want it. Laughing and smiling isn’t something I do anymore, as there’s really nothing to laugh and smile about, but since she’s been around, I find myself wanting to. She and her kids have brought a sliver of light back into my life in the short time I’ve known them. I didn’t think it was possible, and I’m not entirely sure I want it to continue, but right now, I’m enjoying it too much to wish it away.

“What’s wrong with my cocoa?” Gwen asks, playfully throwing her hands on her hips and narrowing her eyes at her son.

He reaches out and pats one of her hands, saying with a serious tone, “Yours is still good, Mom.” He uses his pointer finger and thumb and puts them so close they’re almost touching. “But I like his a tiny bit more.”

Gwen laughs, and before I realize it, I’m chuckling with her. She looks over at me when I do, and I use the excuse of grabbing my phone from my coat pocket so I don’t see the expression on her face. Her shock is apparent, which doesn’t really surprise me. I know I put off a serious vibe, maybe even an asshole one at times. Even to my own ears, the laugh sounds weird coming from me.

“Would you mind making more of your delicious hot chocolate?” she asks, unable to hide her uncertainty.

I push away the strange feelings she’s provoking in me and turn to face her.

“Yeah. I can do that.”

My voice sounds rough, so I clear my throat before making my way to the kitchen. Daniel’s already on the floor again with the puppies. I’m surprised but pleased to see Gigi up on the couch, her head only inches away from Kelsey. She’s trying her best to ignore the dog, but her head keeps tilting toward her. Maybe Gigi can be of help with unleashing some of the pain Kelsey harbors.

I gather the necessary ingredients and set to making hot chocolate. It’s a recipe my mom used when I was a kid. My mom was never the type to buy already prepared food. She made everything from scratch. She also made sure her kids knew how to cook.

Gwen steps up beside me as I heat the milk in a saucepan.

“Thank you for taking him with you. He doesn’t get the chance very often to spend time with a man and he needs that.”

I look at her out the corner of my eye, and see her running her finger over a scratch on the counter surface.

“It was no problem. He’s a good kid.”

She nods. “He is. I hate knowing he’s not getting the experiences and advice he needs from his dad.”

Her voice trails off, and I glance over at her. She’s looking at the wall ahead of her. There’s nothing there, so I know she’s in her own head, probably remembering something about her husband, or maybe silently wishing he was still here. It’s already painful that she lost her husband, but having to raise two kids on her own, knowing they’ll never see their dad again…. I can’t imagine the pain.

“Seems like he’s doing okay to me,” I say, attempting to make her feel better. I don’t like knowing she’s in pain, which is strange for me, because it’s been a long time since I’ve really cared about how someone else feels.

“Thanks,” she says.

She grabs some mugs from the cabinet as I remove the pan from the burner and set it on a cool one. She watches as I finish making the hot chocolate. Neither of us say anything. Normally the silence would be uncomfortable, but right now, it’s not. I like having her by me. It doesn’t feel like she’s invading my space, just that she’s sharing it with me.

A wave of vanilla hits my nose. It’s subtle, but sweet. A strange feeling, one I haven’t felt in a long time, has my stomach dipping. I frown, not entirely sure I like the new feeling. It’s leaving me off-kilter. I don’t like not being in control.

Daniel, as expected, bounds up to the bar, Kelsey walking placidly behind him. It hurts something deep inside me every time I look at her and see the unhidden anguish in her eyes. I feel for this girl because I go through the same pain every day.

The kids sit at the bar and enjoy their hot drinks while Gwen and I stand by and watch. Daniel chatters nonstop about the horses he saw. The pure joy on his face as he talks animatedly makes my heart hurt a little less.

My eyes stray to Gwen every few seconds, watching, but hoping she doesn’t catch me. She’s looking at her son with a smile on her face, genuinely enjoying his energetic rambling. When Daniel mentions coming back once the weather is warmer so he can ride a horse, her eyes stray to me for a moment before going back to him. “We’ll see.”

Deep down inside a place that’s been dormant for years, I hope she does decide to come back. I want to be around these people more. They distract me from my own pain. Not that I’m glad they carry pain, but it reminds me that I’m not alone in the world. There are others out there suffering just as much. In less than two days, this small family has helped quiet the screams in my head, something no one has been able to do. Of course, that might be because I haven’t let anyone close enough to really try. My family has been there for me, but they suffer from their own grief.

My eyes travel to Kelsey to find her looking at me. Her eyes look so sad, and when she notices I’ve caught her stare, she looks away. It knocks me in the chest every time I look at her. I want to take away her pain. A child her age should never look the way she does, like her life is over.

Once the kids are done with their hot chocolate, Gwen tells Daniel it’s time to shower. He ambles off, while Kelsey goes back to the living room where her notebook is on the couch. Gwen goes to the laundry room to fold the few pieces of clothes she washed. She offered to wash mine earlier along with hers, but I declined. I know she’s only trying to help because her and her kids are staying here a few days, but I’ve told her several times, there’s no need. She insists on cooking though. I didn’t argue. I may know how to cook but it’s been a long time since I’ve had someone do it for me. And as much as I thought it would freak me out having another woman here doing something such as cooking, it hasn’t. That doesn’t mean it won’t later. I keep waiting for the nerves to hit, but so far, they haven’t.

I leave the kitchen and go to the living room. Kelsey’s on one end of the couch, drawing pad in her lap, so I take the other end. I grab the remote from the coffee table and switch the TV on, but keep the volume low. I can feel her eyes on me, but I keep my head forward. We stay like this for a while, me seemingly ignoring her, and her looking at me out the corner of her eye every so often.

Keeping my eyes on the TV, I ask, “Do you like cartoons?”

I’m met with silence, which doesn’t surprise me. However, she does turn her head my way. I turn to face her as well. Her eyes are still blank, but underneath the emptiness, I see something lurking. Something that tells me she wants to let go so badly and be part of the world again, but is afraid to.

“What are you drawing?” I ask, then look down at the drawing pad. Her hand is covering part of the paper, so I can’t see it all, but it looks to be a dream catcher.

She follows my eyes down to the pad, looks back at me, then surprises me by handing it over. Her eyes hold uncertainty as I grab the pad and hold it up to take a look. I was right, it’s a dream catcher, but this one’s unique. It has the usual webbing in the middle where the dreams are said to fly through, and the feathers falling from the bottom, but there’s also an added feature. Dripping from the webbing and falling alongside the feathers are drops of some kind of liquid. Most would probably think raindrops, but my bet is on tears. The picture is stunningly beautiful but also very devastating. It shows her pain.

“This is beautiful,” I say, and hand it back to her.

For a second, her eyes reflect light instead of complete darkness, and it makes me feel ten fucking feet tall that my compliment pleased her.

Hearing a noise behind us, I look over the back of the couch and see Gwen standing at the bar watching us. Her eyes look glassy and her hand is covering her mouth. Her eyes flick back and forth between me and Kelsey before they settle on me. Her hand falls away and she’s wearing a smile. I tip one side of my mouth up then face forward again, glad I could bring a smile to Gwen’s face and some form of pleasure to Kelsey.

* * *

Later that evening after everyone has gone to bed, I’m lying on my back on the couch with a notepad in hand, working on something, when I hear murmurs coming from the hallway. I turn my head to try to listen better. The murmurs stop, but then start back up again a minute later.

I set my notepad down on the coffee table and get up from the couch. Unsure of what’s going on and not wanting to wake anyone that might be asleep, I walk down the hall silently. The murmurs get louder the closer I get to the half-open door. I stop just out of view and listen, not being nosy, but making sure everything is okay.

The softly spoken words nearly bring me to my knees.

“Please, God, just let my daddy come home,” Kelsey’s tearful voice whispers. “And please tell him I’m sorry. I miss him so much. I just want to hug him again and tell him I love him.” Her voice is lower when she finishes. “In Jesus’ name, amen.”

Hearing those words whispered in such an agonizing way damn near suffocates me. It’s hard to pull in air because the weight on my chest is so heavy. I don’t get emotional. I’ve cried once as an adult, but right now, this eight-year old’s excruciating words have tears springing to my eyes. The need to rush in there and take her in my arms is almost overwhelming. Only knowing it’s not my place keeps me on this side of the door.

Kelsey’s quiet after that. No more words are whispered. Obviously, Gwen’s asleep and didn’t hear her, because I know I would have heard her consoling her daughter, if not crying along with her.

With one last look at the door and my heart heavy, I walk away and go back to the couch. I spend the next couple hours finishing up the project I was working on, determined to get it done quickly, then set it aside. It takes me a long time to drift off to sleep, and when I finally manage to, it’s a restless sleep filled with the whispered prayers of a broken girl.