Chapter 12

12

DIANNA

" I 'm so sorry. My truck is broken down and I'm going to be a little late. Do you think you could have Sean or someone else help the Woods with Molasses? Mathew needs his practice this morning. It's part of his routine."

"Of course. Thanks for letting me know," Shane hung up without saying goodbye.

Dianna stared at her phone, a sense of trepidation flooding her chest. She wasn't able to track down anyone to check her truck to see what might have happened to it. Already her anxiety had elevated with the change in her schedule, but even worse than her own emotions was how Mathew would cope with her being late.

She grimaced as she hurried toward the house. Adeline, Constance, and Brielle were all gone. And the rest of her sisters were busy. The only option she could see was to saddle a horse, but she'd be really late if she did that.

Dianna burst through the front door and kicked off her tennis shoes. She headed for the storage closet so she could get a decent pair of boots, nearly bumping into Grace. Her youngest sister let out a yelp and her eyes widened.

"Geez, Dianna. Where's the fire?"

"Are you doing anything right now?" Dianna asked, putting her boots on.

"I was gonna?—"

"My truck won't start. I think it's too cold. Can you take me to the country club?"

"I mean, I guess I could."

"Great." She grabbed Grace's wrist and tugged her toward the front door. "I'll get a ride home. I'm late for my shift and that little boy I've been working with isn't going to like that I'm not there."

Grace shuffled behind her, nearly tripping over her feet. "I'm sure he'll be fine."

"You don't get it. He needs me. More than anyone will understand." Of course Mathew's father would understand. But besides him, Dianna knew deep in her gut that Mathew relied on her and if she wasn't there, he might really upset him.

"You said this kid was seven?"

"Yeah."

"Well, he's gotten along just fine so far. Do you really think that you're the only one who can help him? His father is there. We don't have to rush. Let me at least get some shoes on."

Dianna looked down at her sister's feet and huffed. "Well, hurry up. I need to get out there. It's not just about him. This is my job, and I?—"

"And Shane doesn't strike me as the kind of guy who wouldn't understand when your car has problems. It's gonna be just fine."

Dianna sighed with exasperation. This was one of the many instances when people didn't understand her or what was important. She'd long since realized that this wasn't something she'd ever be able to explain.

She hurried outside. While she stood beside her sister's truck, she shifted her weight, hopping from one foot to the other. Dianna checked her phone, gaining only a small amount of relief from the fact that neither Shane nor Tristan had called her. Not yet, anyway.

When Grace emerged from the house, Dianna had to bite her tongue to prevent herself from yelling at her sister to pick up the pace. It wouldn't do any good. It never did.

The whole way there, she attempted to remain calm. Yes, what Grace had said was true. Mathew had done just fine before they had met. He had coping skills and his father to advocate for him.

So why couldn't she shake her nerves? He wasn't her son. For all intents and purposes, she shouldn't care until she was on the clock.

But that just wasn't who she was.

Mathew was a sweetheart, and she'd already grown close to him. It wasn't hard to foresee just how much she would miss him when they left.

She closed her eyes briefly and took a deep breath. It wasn't just Mathew she'd miss. The other night when they went looking for a Christmas tree, there had been a connection between herself and Tristan which resulted in her losing sleep for the next few days. Each time she arrived for her meeting with Mathew, she had avoided looking directly at Tristan unless it was absolutely necessary.

It was a strange feeling, to say the least—like she and Tristan were two magnets being pulled together. She couldn't tell if that was something he was interested in, and for the sake of Mathew, she'd opted to pretend none of those feelings were present.

Her job was to take care of the boy, not fall in love with his father.

Dianna said a quick thank you for the ride as Grace pulled into the parking lot. Then she launched from the vehicle toward the path that would lead her straight for the barn. She heard the screaming before anything came into view.

The hairs on the back of her neck stood on end and she quickened her pace. Finally, two adults, a child and a white horse came into view. Mathew was on the ground, the screams coming from him. Tristan hovered over him, his expression a mixture of embarrassment and frustration. He glanced up as she neared.

She almost thought she saw relief in his eyes, but she couldn't be certain. The man holding the reins of the white horse looked at a complete loss. He said something to Tristan, who shook his head and raked a hand through his hair.

Dianna already knew what the problem was. It was very likely that Tristan knew the problem too, but it didn't appear he was telling the ranch hand.

Breathless, she skidded to a stop. Before Tristan or Mathew could say anything, she stepped between the ranch hand and Tristan. "What do you think you're doing?"

He held up the lead rope. "Mr. Owens told me I needed to get the Wood family a horse."

"No."

"No?" The ranch hand glanced nervously between Dianna and Tristan. "I'm pretty sure he told me to get them a horse."

"He wouldn't have told you to get them a horse. He would have told you to get them their horse." Dianna placed her hands on her hips. "Mr. Wood and his child are here for therapy sessions. They get to have the same horse every practice. Where is Molasses?"

The man glanced back toward the barn. "I think he was being looked at by the vet."

"Then that's what you tell the Wood family. Their horse would be available momentarily."

"But—"

She pinched the bridge of her nose. At least now, Mathew's meltdown was starting to subside, or at least not be as bad as it was. She lowered her voice and moved closer to the ranch hand. "This little boy struggles with change. He needs to work with the same horse he's been with."

"I didn't know about that."

Dianna let out a sigh. "Well, next time you should double check. I appreciate your help while I was gone, but this isn't the kind of experience we should be offering our guests. Would you mind taking this one back and getting Molasses once the vet is done with him?"

He nodded. "Of course, ma'am." He touched the brim of his hat and turned around.

She took a deep, steadying breath before she faced Mathew.

Tristan stepped forward. "That wasn't neces?—"

Dianna held up a finger and crouched down on Mathew's level. "Hey, kiddo."

He wiped his hand across his face, rubbing his nose, then he blinked at her. "Hi, Miss Dianna."

"Can we talk about what just happened?"

Mathew frowned and cast his eyes down. "Okay."

"What made you feel so upset just now? Was I right in guessing it was because they brought a different horse?"

He didn't answer.

"You know I would have been here soon to get the right horse for you."

Mathew glanced at her. "But I wanted Molasses."

"I know you wanted Molasses. And that cowboy brought out the wrong horse. But do you think maybe he didn't know all the rules? He was just trying to do his job. When you got upset instead of telling him what you wanted, you weren't giving him the chance to fix things. Sometimes we get so caught up with what we think we're going to lose that we don't take a minute to calm down and come up with a solution."

This seemed to capture Mathew's attention. He glanced at his father, then back to Dianna.

"Do you think next time you would be willing to slow down and use some skills I can teach you?"

He nodded.

She smiled brightly at him just as the ranch hand reached them with Molasses being led by his rope. Mathew sniffled and got to his feet. Dianna accepted the lead rope and held it out but didn't relinquish it to Mathew yet. "Before I teach you a skill, how about you teach me one."

Mathew's brows creased, pulling together with confusion. "What do you mean?"

"If I was upset about something that wasn't going as I expected it to, what would you tell me to do?"

His eyes darted to the side and he stuck out the tip of his tongue. "Maybe count to five?"

She grinned. "That's a very good one. But it's hard to remember, isn't it?"

Mathew nodded once more.

Dianna tilted her head slightly. "How about we come up with a code word that will help you remember to count?"

His eyes brightened. "Like a secret code word?"

"Exactly. It can be something only you, your dad, and your teachers know. What do you think?"

He grinned. "What's it gonna be?"

"That's totally up to you." Dianna smiled and finally chanced a look in Tristan's direction. Her heart leapt into her throat. His serious eyes delved into her as if they could see past all the walls she'd built around herself over the years. She wouldn't be surprised if he pulled her aside and told her he knew all her secrets.

She swallowed hard and turned her focus back to Mathew. "Just make it a good one. Maybe one that will make you happy so when I have to say it or if your dad has to say it, then you can remember right away what you're supposed to do."

His cute little furrow deepened and he pressed his lips together into a tight line. The three of them stood like that for a few moments until Mathew's head snapped up, a smile lighting his face. "I think it should be Molasses."

She laughed. "I think that's a wonderful idea. Molasses makes me smile too." She held out the reins and nodded toward the arena that was a few yards away. "How about you lead Molasses today?"

If it was possible, Mathew's smile grew even larger. He held the reins reverently as he started toward the building. Dianna let him get a few paces away before turning toward Tristan. "Now, I know what you're going to say?—"

"I don't think you do." His voice was gruff but not angry.

Dianna blinked and folded her arms. "Okay. Then tell me and I'll let you know if I was right."

He moved forward, closing the small gap that had been the buffer between them. She sucked in a soft breath, not expecting him to invade her personal space like that, but it was probably so Mathew didn't hear what he was about to say. Tristan's focus darted to where Mathew continued toward the arena and then back to her. "I don't know how you do it."

Her brows shot up. "Pardon me?"

"You came charging in here like a mama bear ready to pounce on that cowboy for doing the wrong thing, but you did it with a poise and assertiveness that few people possess. I half-expected you to put him in his place, but you didn't. You were able to explain to him what was going on without being demeaning."

"Well, he wouldn't have learned anything if I made him feel small, now would he?" she quipped as she lifted her chin and fought the blush that threatened to make an unscheduled appearance.

"I don't think you're understanding where I'm coming from. I didn't want you to put him in his place. He didn't do anything wrong, not really. It was obvious he didn't know what to do just as much as I didn't. He brought a horse out like he was told to do, and it just happened that it wasn't the one Mathew wanted."

"Oh."

He took a deep breath and exhaled; the warmth of it fanned against her cheeks and goosebumps rose on her arms beneath her coat. "Then just when I thought you couldn't surprise me anymore, you go and do it again."

As much as she wanted to, she couldn't tear her eyes from him. He held her captivated with his discerning gaze, pinned against what she thought she knew and what he was now trying to help her understand.

"I was ready to jump in and tell you that Mathew needed to learn how to cope with disappointment. He is too old to throw fits like that, especially when he had a decent second option. You might not like it, but that's how I want to raise him. I'm not going to be around for his entire life, and he needs to learn how to figure things out when they don't go as planned." His voice softened, filling with awe. "You knew exactly what to say to reach him on a level where he didn't feel judged or unloved."

Chills ripped through her body. Everything he was saying made her feel seen. She couldn't explain it. Perhaps it had something to do with that magnetic pull they shared. Her mouth felt like it was full of dirt, dry and closing up without any way to respond to him. Dianna could only think of one thing to say. "Thank you?"

He chuckled, and the sound felt like hot chocolate and fleece blankets on a cold winter morning. "I wanted to ask you something, but I wasn't sure how you'd respond."

She swallowed hard. "Okay."

"I was hoping that you might?—"

"Miss Dianna!" Mathew's voice called from near the entrance to the indoor arena. "I can't open the door!"

She swiveled her head around, taking a step away from Tristan in the process. The moment had felt all too intimate—at least to her. For all she knew, he was going to ask her about Mathew or for recommendations on how to reach his son in a more effective way.

He most definitely wasn't going to bring up the possibility of wanting to explore something personal. She shivered and shook her head as she sent him an apologetic glance. "Sorry," she murmured and jogged away.