“You didn’t like him?” Sadie asked.
“She didn’t know me well enough to like me,” Tash said as he moved to a cutting board, where he expertly diced tomatoes. “In high school, the difference between a sophomore and a senior is a pretty big deal.”
“Oh.” Sadie eyed her anew. “I’m seven.”
Amazing. “I would have guessed a little older. You’re mature for your age.”
Beaming, Sadie nodded. “That’s what Dad says, too.” She slid off her seat, swiped a piece of tomato and peeked into the pan. “I’m hungry.”
“You’re always hungry.” He hugged her into his side. “Not too close to the heat, honey.”
“Mom used to let me cook.”
He paused for a heartbeat, then teased, “I must be more of a worrier than she was.”
Was? Had Tash’s wife passed away? Autumn sat very still, feeling horrible for them both.
“Why don’t you ask Ms. Somerset what she wants to drink?”
Sadie sidled over to her. “You want a beer?”
“Sadie.”
Shoulders scrunched, she glanced back at her dad. “That’s what Mom and her friends always wanted.”
“We don’t have any beer here, right? Offer cola, iced tea or water.”
Disgruntled with that order, Sadie mumbled, “What do you want?”
Just what was going on here? Autumn tried to affect a carefree smile. “You know what, Sadie? You’re about the most adorable, precocious little girl I’ve ever met. I think I’m going to trust you to choose for me.”
Not budging, Sadie studied her. “What’s p’cosis.”
“Precocious. It means intelligent and sassy and wise beyond your years.”
After giving it some thought, Sadie said, “You can have a cola.”
Assuming that was a treat, Autumn thanked her.
Tash caught her eye and gave a nod of gratitude. She didn’t have any idea what was going on, but she sensed some heavy-duty undercurrents.
What really surprised her? Seeing him, looking right at him, didn’t befuddle her at all. He mouthed, Thanks, and she smiled in return.
On the way to the table, Sadie dropped the cola on the floor. It rolled up to Tash’s foot before it stopped.
“Oops.” Autumn turned to her...and went still at the stricken expression on the girl’s face. She’d gone completely still, seemed tense and wary.
Tash saw her, too, and immediately dried his hands. As if it meant nothing at all, he said, “We must have the dropsies today, huh?”
Dropsies? Did grown men say things like that? Apparently men who had young daughters did.
“Did I tell you I dropped the seasoning packet for the beef? Luckily, it was closed, like the cola.” He set the can in the sink, still talking, his voice calm and moderate. “After that I dropped the cheese, but it was open so a bunch spilled everywhere. Took me a bit to get it all swept up.”
Autumn’s eyes went past him to the counter, where she saw a new pack of shredded cheese...unopened.
He scooped up his daughter for a hug. She was very tiny in his arms. “Accidents happen, baby.”
“But...we have company.”
“So? The Pope and president could both be here and it wouldn’t matter, I promise.”
“And I’m neither,” Autumn said, feeling her way. “I’m just a friendly neighbor who does her own fair share of dropping things, so I didn’t think a thing of it.”
After putting a loud smooch to Sadie’s forehead, Tash set her back on her feet and said, “Grab Autumn another cola, then go wash your hands. I’ll have your plate ready for you when you get back.”
Sadie, still seeming unsure, looked at her, then her dad, and back again.
Pretending she didn’t feel the tension, Autumn launched into babble. “You want to talk about dropping things? This one time, I was carrying a bucket of feed for a bunch of hungry hens and dropped it. Feed went everywhere and the feathers were flying! The ninnies always have fresh feed available, but they carried on like they’d found gold. I ended up slipping, and even tore my pants.” She threw in a laugh for good measure. “Know what happened then?”
Sadie asked, “You have chickens?”
She nodded. “While I was down, Delilah gave me a solid headbutt and I went face-first into the mud. At least, I hope it was mud. With a lot of animals around, it’s sometimes hard to tell. Delilah is our goat, by the way, not my sister—though my sister probably would have laughed herself silly.” Seeing Sadie’s fascination, she continued. “Then Franklin, our ornery old sheep, almost jumped on me, but luckily I got out of the way in time.”
Eyes huge, Sadie asked, “You have goats and sheep?”
“And horses, a mule, two pigs—as of yesterday—ducks and a dog.”
Tash carried a napkin holder and sour cream to the table. “I had no idea. You run a farm?”
“Animal sanctuary.”
Surprised, he said, “I thought you were a designer.”
“That, too. Ember and I inherited the farm from our grandparents, and our jobs help supplement what we need to care for the animals.” She said to Sadie, “Why don’t you get your hands washed, and then I can tell you both all about it. That is, if your dad has enough time...?”
“Can’t wait to hear it.” He put his hand to Sadie’s back. “Get them clean, and I promise we won’t talk about animals until you get back.”
Like a shot, Sadie raced down the hall.
His expression contained, Tash stood there, gazing at the doorway she’d gone through, then he turned to Autumn. “Thank you for that. I’m discovering that things with her mother weren’t always great.” He briefly clasped her shoulder, his touch warm and heavy, before he moved away. “You did a great job stepping into the unknown. Not many could have handled that so seamlessly.”
“I’m glad I didn’t make anything worse.” Posing it as a question, she said, “Sadie seemed awfully upset over something so simple.”
His mouth firmed. “Her moods jump around enough to keep me guessing, but we’re getting there.”
That didn’t really tell her anything. It wasn’t her business, yet she felt compelled to ask, anyway. “I don’t mean to pry, but...you’re divorced?”
Keeping watch on the doorway, he worked his jaw. “For years now. We shared custody, but...it was complicated.” He shook off his mood. “Sorry. None of this is your problem.”