One reason Pip volunteers at the sanctuary is so we can spend time together. The other reason is that he loves horses and wants to learn more about them. Pip is the brother I never had, so I’m happy to teach him stuff.
He grins. “That’d be awesome. Mind if we get coffee first?”
“Sure thing.”
The crisp morning air, filled with the scent of damp earth, hits my face as we step out of the barn and make our way to the break room, a converted shed that sits just past the paddocks. The sun hasn’t risen high enough yet to cut through the earlyhaze. Dewy grass crunches under my boots as I take in the fields stretching out in all directions, the land rolling gently into pastures, where overgrown grass sways gently in the early morning breeze.
This place might be in need of some major TLC and proper management, but I can see past its current state. It has the potential to be something truly amazing, a world-class facility where animals are homed, rehabbed, loved, and properly cared for. I take a deep breath and soak in the tranquility.
“Okay. I’ll shut up about Maverick if I just hear you say it once.”
I glance at Pip with a deadpan stare for ending my tranquility sooner than I would have liked.
“Say what once?” I ask as we approach the shed.
“That Maverick isn’t the world’s biggest asshole.” I roll my eyes, but he persists. “Just say it once, and then I’ll drop it.”
“Promise?”
“I promise.”
“Fine.” I push open the door to the break room and motion for Pip to go in first. As he saunters past me, I grudgingly admit, “Veryearly indications seem topotentiallyindicate that Maverickmay not bethe world’s biggest asshole.”
Pip stops and whirls around abruptly, his eyes bulging. I stare at him for a moment, then peer past him to where Maverick is fiddling with the shiny new coffee machine. An adorable blond-haired kid is propped up on the counter next to the machine.
Maverick pauses whatever he was doing and lifts his head, looking in our direction. A smirk rises on his lips as he folds his arms across his chest and crosses one leg in front of the other. Pip only comes up to the base of my neck, so it’s full eye contact with my new boss.
Nowhere to hide.
Nowhere to run.
No way to take back what he’d just heard me blurt out.
The little kid eases himself onto a chair propped against the counter, jumps off it, and races toward us. He extends his hand into the air, all puffed red cheeks and big smiles. “Hi. I’m Sammy.”
Pip leans down and shakes the exuberant boy’s hand. “Hi, Sammy. I’m Pip. And this is Jackson.”
“Hey, man.” I give an awkward wave.
I like kids; it’s just that I never know how to act around them. I’m hoping once my sister gives birth and I get some uncle practice, I’ll become less awkward.
“And how old are you, Sammy?” Pip, who is in his final year of studying early childhood education at Silverstone Community College, clearly has no such problems. He’s a natural with kids.
“I’m four.” Sammy sticks up his pudgy fingers and points to them as he counts out, “One. Two. Three. Four.”
“Wow. You’re almost five,” Pip remarks enthusiastically.
Sammy rolls his big blue eyes. “Iknow,” he says dramatically, like five is super old. I can’t help but grin. He moves around Pip and tilts his head back, giving me a once-over. “You’re Jackson?”
“I am.”
Sammy grins. “Uncle Kick keeps saying your name lots!”
Maverick lets fly with a string of expletives and dashes over to us, scooping his nephew up over his shoulder.
I smirk. “Uncle Kick, hey?”
“It’s what I used to call him when I was a baby,” Sammy supplies, even though he’s dangling over Maverick’s broad shoulder. “I can say Uncle Maverick now, but Uncle Kick says he likes me calling him Uncle Kick, so I do.” I run a hand over my chest and smile ever so sweetly, enjoying Maverick’s cheeksturning a shade of pink. “He talks ’bout you every day with my dad.”
