A/N: This is a longer chapter, decided to combine two. Thank you SO MUCH for all of your lovely reviews. I've enjoyed reading each and every one, and have even gotten an idea or two to include in future chapters! I am still in awe of the response, but it gives me life, I can tell you that honestly. I'm truly humbled.

Additionally, someone asked me where the music is! Love it - yeah, I often center my fics around music. This one, however, will incorporate various songs throughout, and at the end I'll toss out a Spotify playlist with all of them on it. For right now, though, we're relatively music-free. :)

Chelsie On!

CSotA


Still August 27, 2014

At the end of the school day, Charles found his way to the parent pick-up lot at the school, parked, and was directed to the cafeteria to wait with all the other parents whose children didn't ride the bus home. He was surprised at how few parents were in there, really, and guessed that many must be working - a thought which made him wonder how many of these children went home to an empty house. He supposed all the neighbors looked out for one another, though; after all, Misty Cove was a fairly small town.

Three and a half minutes after the bell rang, Daisy came through the door and spotted him standing there, his tall, smartly-dressed frame standing out in this community of farmers and fishermen's wives. He'd just been wondering if he was overdressed and had been feeling slightly uncomfortable when he spotted his lovely girl, immediately forgetting the triviality of his appearance.

"Papa!" she whispered gleefully into his ear as he crouched down to receive her hug.

He hugged her and then pulled back, looking into her face as he asked, "How was your day? Did you like it?"

She nodded and smiled, then took his hand and almost pulled him out the door. At first this worried him, as he thought she couldn't get out of the school fast enough; he was half right – it turned out Daisy just wanted to talk.

"Papa, Mr. Molesley is so funny! And, first thing when we got to the classroom, we did an activity where we had to line up in order of how dark our hair was – without anyone being allowed to talk! Then he put us in our seats in that order. And by the end of the day, he knew everyone's name."

Charles thought it sounded a bit odd at first … and then he thought about what she'd said, how the activity was designed where none of the students were allowed to speak, and his already-favorable opinion of Mr. Molesley went up another notch or two as he realized that the activity had allowed Daisy to participate just like every other student in the room, right off the bat.

Well done, Mr. Molesley.

Daisy prattled on and on as Charles headed downtown, taking the chance to run a few errands while they were out and the rain held off. Daisy explained that she disliked Miss O'Brien, but as she did well in both English and Social Studies normally she didn't seem terribly worried. She had understood what went on in Math, and visited Miss Baxter during lunch, when she'd been shown the iPad app that she would use during school hours, starting tomorrow. She was rather proud when she told Charles that it would be her responsibility to pick the device up in the morning and return it at the end of the day, plugging it in so that it would charge.

Eventually, they arrived at the grocery store and picked up some chicken to cook on the grill that Mary had left for them on the back deck. As they got back on the highway, Charles noticed the skies darkening, a storm moving in.

"Is it going to rain, Papa?"

"Looks like," he said, just as the first drops splattered onto the windshield.

"Papa, look! Is that an accident?"

Fear ripped through his chest at her words and the look on her face that he saw in the rear-view mirror, but Daisy's gaze didn't leave the vehicle on the side of the road. As they neared it, Charles pulled over behind it, noting that the hazard lights were flashing - a good indication that whomever was inside was, in fact, well enough to have thought to do that.

"Stay here," he warned Daisy, who nodded. Charles grabbed his umbrella, exited the car, and approached the unknown vehicle.

"Hello?" he called cautiously. "Is everything alright?"

"Yes, perfectly fine!" called out the familiar, feminine voice through the lowering window.

Elsie?

"Ms. Hughes? My goodness, are you hurt?" he asked as he reached for the handle and opened the door.

"Elsie," she insisted, "and no, I don't believe so. Just a bit shaken."

"Whatever happened?"

"Well, the truck was acting funny this morning, but I figured I'd have time to run one errand and then get home. It started behaving badly as soon as I left the store, so I pulled over here, but then it suddenly jerked to a stop and my head was knocked about a bit. I'm not sure, but I think it's the transmission, which is truly unfortunate."

'And do you know a lot about automobiles, Elsie?" he enquired with a raised eyebrow.

"There are a great many things I know about that may surprise you, Charles," she replied, motioning with her hand for him to back up so she could exit the truck's cab.

"Indeed." He wished he had a smart reply to her seemingly provocative quip, but he found himself at a loss for words, wondering if she'd intended the tone or if he was just reading into it what he wished.

She laughed at his expression. "I didn't mean it like that," she said. She pulled out her cell phone. After a brief conversation, she shut it off and turned her attention back to Charles.

"Branson's will send someone in about half an hour - Andy, most likely," she said.

"Branson's?"

She smiled. "Yes, our local garage. Tom Branson runs it - he's a former student of ours, actually. Lovely man."

"Well, please allow us to drive you home once he comes along."

"Oh, no," she protested, "please don't let me hold you up. Daisy must be dying to get home after her first day." She peeked around the side of the truck then, and spotted Daisy in the car. She gave a friendly wave, which Daisy returned enthusiastically from the backseat of the Volvo.

"I told her to stay there," he explained quietly. "I wasn't sure … well, you understand."

Elsie's face crumpled as she read the meaning behind his words. "Oh, my goodness, how thoughtless of me to have forgotten," she muttered, reaching out to squeeze his arm. "I'm sorry."

"Don't be," he answered. "It's quite alright. I'm very glad you weren't hurt."

"I'm fine," she reassured him.

Just then, the rain picked up. "Um, far be it for me to be pushy, but as it's now pouring and rather warm out, how about you join us in our dry and air-conditioned car, and then we'll drive you home once your friend sorts your truck."

"Oh, I don't wish to impose. It's alright, Andy can bring me … I can just wait in the truck."

"And have Daisy think I left you stranded?" he asked, feigning a look of horror. "Not a chance!"

Elsie laughed, a light, twinkling sound that stirred something deep within his heart.

"Well, we can't have that," she agreed. "Fine, then - and thank you. That's very kind." Elsie made her way to the car, trying not to get too close to Charles as he covered them both with his umbrella. She climbed into the front seat and turned to chat with Daisy.

"Did you have a good first day, my dear?"

Daisy nodded, then opened her bag to extract the book she'd taken home to read.

"Black Beauty," Elsie said. "One of my favorites. Have you begun it yet?"

A nod.

"And are you on Chapter … two?" she tried, seeing the girl open to her bookmarked page.

A shake of the head - No.

"Three?"

No.

Elsie was skeptical. "So how far, exactly, have you read?"

Daisy held up five fingers, and Elsie gasped. "Five! Daisy, that's remarkable! Did you read all that in Miss Baxter's office during lunch?"

"No, she didn't," Charles interceded. "Evidently, Miss O'Brien assigned a task to the class that took most of the students the entire class period to finish. Daisy says she finished it in about ten minutes," he said, smiling at his girl, "and so Miss O'Brien sent her into the reading corner to fetch a book."

Elsie looked at Daisy, impressed, and gave her a knowing smile. "And I'm sure Miss O'Brien was rather surprised by you, Miss Carson … well done."

Daisy just smiled, with a smug little twinkle in her eye that made Elsie and Charles laugh.

"My, my, Charles," Elsie laughed, "your daughter is quite something."

"That she is."

Elsie and Charles chatted on as they waited for Andy to show up with the tow truck. Elsie filled him in some more on the 'key players' in Misty Cove. He knew about the local paper, of course. She gave him the library's hours, told him about the upcoming fall festival that would be at the church - Misty Cove Congregational, the only church that was actually in their little town - and gave him the low-down on Beryl, owner of The Cheeky Devil.

"The name of the restaurant is very Beryl-appropriate," she laughed, "but it's truly one of the best places in town. Beryl Mason is, hands down, the most excellent cook and baker in Misty Cove. You must bring Daisy for Saturday breakfast sometime. You'll wait for a table, but it's worth it and, if the weather's nice, she's got seating and a coffee/juice setup for everyone while they're waiting. It's quite lovely." *

Daisy tapped on Elsie's seat, making Elsie turn around. Daisy pointed at her, cocked her head inquisitively, and smiled.

Elsie nodded. "Yes, I'm there every Saturday."

"Well, then, it looks like we have plans on Saturday," Charles said, secretly rather happy about that.

Just then, the tow truck appeared. Andy deftly maneuvered it off to the side of the road and hopped out, and Elsie and Charles got out of the car and met him halfway. The rain had let up for the moment, thankfully.

"Elsie," he called, shaking his head, "what did I tell you …"

"I know, Andy, I know," she answered, shaking her head at herself and exasperated for having let the truck go as long as she had. "Just let me get the sacks out of the back and you can take it. Oh …" She looked at Charles, a question on her face. "Is there room in the back of your wagon? I'd almost forgotten that I picked up the feed before breaking down."

"Pardon?"

"The feed bags - for my horses," she replied. Daisy's face lit up, a smile appearing on her face.

"Erm, I think so?" Charles went around to the back of his car and opened the hatch. "Will this do?"

"That's perfect," she answered, moving swiftly to the bed of her truck. She popped open and lowered the tailgate, then reached in for the first of the two sacks.

"Do you need -" Charles started, but then the words died in his mouth as he saw Elsie lift the 50-lb bag up and onto her shoulder and head to the back of the Volvo, then deposit it into the cargo area.

"No, I can see you don't," he muttered, trying to ignore Andy's laugh.

"Elsie's small, but she's fierce," Andy said to him.

"Yes … quite." Charles shook his head in wonder as he stood by and watched Elsie move the second feed bag, feeling idiotic that he'd not offered to help but knowing full well that this woman was, clearly, in better shape than he was.

Andy wiped his hands on his jeans, then extended his arm for a handshake. "Andrew Parker. I don't think we've met."

"Charles Carson," he answered, shaking the young man's hand. "My daughter, Daisy, is just there in the car. We've just moved here."

"Ah, yeah, staying in Mary's place on the beach, right? Good choice - beautiful property, that. I've done some gardening work for them in the summers. Give me a call if you ever need a hand; I do a lot of odd jobs around town when I'm not busy at Branson's."

"I will do, thank you," Charles said gratefully.

"All set!" Elsie called, clapping her hands together to rid them of dust. "Andy, have Tom call me?"

"Sure thing, Elsie. Do you need a car to borrow? We can drop one of the loaners by your house after work."

"That would be wonderful Andy, thank you!" Elsie waved goodbye and got back into the car next to Charles, who was sitting behind the wheel once again, dumbfounded at the scene that had just unfolded before his eyes.

"Those were 50 lb. bags of deadweight. I guess there are a great many things about you that will surprise me. You are a woman of mystery, aren't you, Ms. Hughes?" he asked.

"I don't know about that, Mr. Carson," she teased. "Perhaps."

Charles pulled away from the roadside and headed toward … he wasn't sure. "I've just realized that I have no idea where you live." He was embarrassed not to have thought of it beforehand, but he'd been rather distracted to have once again run into this woman who'd been occupying his thoughts.

"Oh, but surely you do? We're neighbors, Charles. Well, sort of, anyhow." With that, she sat back and buckled her seat belt, giving turn-by-turn directions until he found himself pulling into a long, narrow driveway, the opening of which was marked clearly with a quaint little sign that read: L'il Farm.

"Your beach rental is across the street and through the small wood, is it not?"

Charles parked in front of the barn and looked to where she was indicating. "So it is - the front of my house faces the field behind those woods, I believe. I watch the sunrise from the front porch, when I'm up early enough." He glanced around, spotting the pond to the back of her property. "Oh, but it must be more gorgeous from across that pond."

"It's quite nice, yes," she admitted gratefully. "Shall I give you the ten-cent tour?"

Daisy scrambled out of the backseat then, and she shuffled through her backpack for something. She tapped Charles's arm as he passed by.

"What is it, petal?" He bent down to hear her whisper, and didn't notice Elsie's warm smile as she heard his term of endearment.

Daisy held out a pink brochure to her father, and Elsie knew immediately what was coming. As Daisy whispered what she had to say in her Papa's ear, Elsie gathered her purse and bag from the front seat of the car, closing the door behind her and making her way to the trunk area to remove the bags of horse feed.

"Is that so?" Charles stood up and found Elsie, handing her the brochure and asking the obvious question. "This is you?"

She nodded. "Yes, that's me. My L'il Farm is, among other things, a horse therapy facility. I presume Miss Baxter gave that to Daisy? She told me she might."

"Yes, and Daisy is rather interested, of course - she's interested in anything having to do with horses. But I'm afraid I don't quite understand. Horse therapy?"

Elsie handed Charles her school bag and purse, which he took awkwardly from her hands so that she could get the feed sacks. "Do you mind?" she asked, nodding to them.

"Um, no, but …" He was cut off by Elsie hefting one of the bags out of the car, then bringing it over to the barn and depositing it in a tub. She returned for the second bag, and then Charles shut the trunk.

"Why don't you both come in for a cold drink and I'll tell you about it?"

"I'd love to, but we really must get our groceries home …"

It was Elsie's turn to be embarrassed. "Oh, my goodness, of course - you did mention you'd picked up dinner. I'm sorry, I completely forgot."

"It's only some chicken, but I don't want it to get too warm in the car …"

"Well," Elsie said pensively, eyebrows raised as she thought on the fly, "I do have a grill, Charles. And," she added, looking to Daisy, "a cherry pie that needs to go in the oven. I'd been intending to deliver it to your door, actually - a sort of welcome to the neighborhood gesture. Would you allow me to be terribly rude and ask you and your chicken to stay? I'll gladly prepare dinner as I fill you in on the horses. Two birds with one stone, as they say." She smiled hopefully, looking back and forth between the Carsons.

Elsie Hughes, she chided herself, what the HELL are you doing, woman?

Charles watched as Elsie bit down on her bottom lip as she awaited his answer, a habit which Charles found remarkably endearing … and, he admitted to himself, something he rather enjoyed watching her do. He wondered if she were even aware of doing it at all. He looked to Daisy, who nodded happily.

"I guess we should," he answered, feeling for all the world as though this would not be the last time that he'd be guilted into a decision by the two delightful people now standing before him … and feeling that the idea of that didn't bother him one bit. "Thank you."

"My pleasure." She turned and led them to the front door, which she unlocked swiftly when she heard the scrambling claws coming from the other side.

"I should warn you -" she managed to get out, just before a blur of black and white came flying out the door and made a beeline for Daisy, who tumbled to the grass as she was given a dog kiss bath by one very excited and friendly border collie.

"- I have a dog," she finished weakly.

"I can see that," Charles chuckled, watching and listening with delight at the peals of happy laughter coming from his daughter. He shook his head and stole a glance at Elsie, who was smiling brilliantly at him. Clearly Daisy was shocked, and didn't realize that she was laughing out loud.

"Now, how about that tour?" she asked.

Elsie led Charles and Daisy into the house, grateful she'd left the skylights open and that it wasn't blistering hot inside as it sometimes was when she got home.

"You and Max can stay outside, if you want," she said to Daisy. "You're welcome to play with him anywhere he'd like to go, but be careful not to go too close to the pond and, whatever you do, don't touch the horse fence - it's electrified."

Daisy looked at Charles with wide, excited eyes and jumped at the sound of Max's squeaky toy that he'd just dropped at her feet.

"Well? Would you like to play with Max?" Charles asked her. Daisy nodded immediately, and Charles followed her back out into the yard.

"Daisy," he said, once they were far enough away from the open door, "are you alright with having dinner here? You seemed excited, but I know you wouldn't say anything in front of Ms. Hughes to make her feel badly." You wouldn't say anything in front of her at all, most likely.

"Oh, yes. She's very kind and I really want to play with Max. Do you think she'll introduce me to the horses later?"

"I am sure she will, petal." He kissed her head and sent her off, Max bounding behind her, toy in his mouth. Charles watched them for a moment, until he was comfortable that Max would be perfectly safe with Daisy - and vice versa. But when he saw the pup drop his toy at Daisy's feet, then crouch down, tail wagging, waiting for her to toss it, he knew they'd be just fine. He watched about three rounds of fetch before turning and heading back in the screen door.

"Your house is lovely," he remarked, looking around.

"Thank you," Elsie replied from the sink. She was washing her hands and had donned an apron, something that Charles found unexpectedly domestic, though he couldn't have said why he found it odd. "It's much smaller than yours, I am sure, but I like it." She took out a baking dish and some kind of sauce from the refrigerator, then reached for his grocery bag.

"I'm going to wash the chicken and marinate it for a bit while the pie bakes, if that's alright? Would you like a cold drink?"

"I'd love one, thank you."

She opened the fridge to grab the pitcher of lemonade for Daisy, then pulled out two beers, holding them up in the air with her eyebrows raised. Charles smiled and nodded, and she popped the tops off and handed one to him.

"Cheers," he said, clinking his bottle gently against hers. "And thank you again for the invitation to stay."

"Yes, well, thanks for providing my dinner," Elsie smirked. "I've got a potato salad in the fridge that'll go nicely, I think. Feel free to meander about - it won't take you long."

The entire house was centered around one main room, comprised of a living room area, a dining room, and the kitchen. Doors off the dining room led to a small guest suite, then a second bedroom next to that, and steps leading down from where the dining table sat led to a flagstone porch. Down the small hallway behind the kitchen were the main bath, the basement stairs, and what looked to Charles to be the master bedroom. He looked up, admiring the exposed-beam ceiling and the height of the rooms. As he wandered back into the living room area, he made his way over to the stone fireplace.

"This is a gorgeous fireplace. I think I prefer it to the formal one I have at the beach house." The entire façade was fieldstone, clearly hand-set, and it extended all the way up the wall. A walnut mantle had been set in on which Elsie had arranged various photos. He took a moment to look at them all, smiling as he recognized a photo of a much younger Elsie when she was just a schoolgirl. Next to her was a taller girl, slightly older he thought, and a woman whom he assumed was Elsie's mother. The girl didn't resemble either of them, though, so he wondered if she were perhaps a family friend. Beside that were a few more modern photos: Elsie and Phyllis Baxter, at what appeared to be a Christmas party; a photo of Max; one of Elsie with one of the horses; and a photo of a man who appeared to be in his late 30's.

"It is lovely, isn't it?" Elsie said, coming around the corner to find Charles looking at the photos. "I often sit on the porch, actually, but I do enjoy it in here when I've got the Christmas tree up."

"In front of this huge window, no doubt?" he asked, indicating the one to the left of the fireplace.

"Mmm," she hummed. "It's the perfect spot, although I wait until about a week before Christmas to get it so that the heat from the fireplace doesn't kill the poor thing immediately. John always holds one for me."

"John?"

"John Bates – he owns John's Tree Farm. He's about a mile up the road, does hayrides and apple picking in the fall, and then sleigh rides, a sugar shack, and Christmas trees in the winter. You'll meet him eventually," she smiled.

"I'm sure I will," he chuckled. "Small town."

"Exactly."

"Your family?" he enquired, pointing at the photos.

"Yes," she answered a bit too quickly, "my family."

Elsie peeked out the window and saw Daisy laying on the grass beside Max, who was currently getting the belly-rub of his life. "She's very good with him," she commented. "I'm afraid they'll both be rather wet, though, after rolling around in the rain-soaked grass."

Charles looked out the window to see what Elsie was seeing, choosing to ignore the fact that she'd just deflected any conversation about the photos on the mantle. "I'm sure neither of them will mind being wet. Daisy is quite gentle," he said, "and she loves animals. Speaking of which … the horse therapy?"

"Yes. Why don't we sit out and we can watch them play?" Charles nodded and they made for the chairs on the front porch.

"Equine-facilitated psychotherapy,"* she began, "is an alternative way to work with children who suffer from various ailments. The idea behind it is that children are, by nature, wanting to care for something that will not argue or fuss back at them. They simply want the opportunity to share themselves and not be judged for their behavior."

"Don't we all?" Charles mused, and Elsie nodded.

"Yes, but with children the mental capacity to make sense of others' reactions isn't fully developed. Children are very black and white in how they see the world, and will often hold a great deal back from a therapist because they're afraid of how they'll be perceived - as bad, to overgeneralize it a bit. But a child can come into a situation with a horse, for example, and just be herself. She knows the horse doesn't care if she speaks or not, doesn't care if she's quiet or shy or outgoing or any of those things … the horse just wants to be petted, hugged, ridden, groomed. It has no expectations of the child, and the child knows that."

"I see," Charles mused. "And that opens up the door for some sort of therapeutic work, I presume ... but how?"

"Because the child – say, Daisy - shares the experience of caring for the animal with the therapist. It's a mutual bond that has nothing to do with the child's disability, but rather with the love for the animal. But while that interaction is happening the child's defenses are down, and it's a bit easier for the therapist to foster a comfort level with the child. And that's when the rest of the therapy can take place. The horse serves as sort of a buffer between the child and the therapist, but there's also the simple benefit that the child has a wonderful experience in being able to love another creature and receive unconditional love in return."

"And it's always horses?" he asked, now fully intrigued by what Elsie was explaining to him.

"No," she acknowledged, "sometimes it's dogs, or a rabbit even. Here, I use horses, but you can see from how Daisy is with Max that dogs are clearly another favorite. The children who come here to work with the horses are always drawn to him, and he's so good with them," she said proudly.

"And you are the therapist? I didn't know you did double-duty, Ms. Hughes," he smiled.

"I am one of them, but I also have Anna. Anna Smith," she added, answering his questioning eyebrow. "She is a former student from our school, actually, who went on to university to study behavioral therapy and animal sciences, and she graduated last spring. She phoned and asked if she could help out on a part-time basis, and I agreed immediately. She's here once a week to work with children, but I employ her to keep up with the farm chores while I'm at work, too. When we have numerous children here that's not much of an issue, because part of the program means the children are helping out with cleaning and grooming and such, but right now I've only got two children coming, one weekly and one every other week, and so there's a lot that needs to be done when I'm at school."

"And Daisy would make three children," he commented, nodding slowly. "You know, I think she'd really love what you have to offer here." He heard his daughter's squeal from across the field, and looked out at her playing tag with Max. "I think being in Misty Cove is already doing her a world of good," he added softly.

"I hope so. Let's go and introduce her to Scarlett, shall we?" She collected their empty bottles and brought them into the kitchen, then put on her barn boots and joined Charles, Daisy, and Max over by the fence.

"Alright now, Daisy, I'd like you to come with me," Elsie explained. "There's a green tub in the barn marked 'boots,' and I'd like you to find a pair that fit you. We can't have you walking around the muck in your nice school shoes, can we?" Daisy shook her head, then went off in search of footwear.

"I keep a pretty decent stock - as kids outgrow their riding boots, the parents usually just donate them," Elsie explained to Charles as she reached over to turn off the electric fence. "Does Daisy actually know how to ride?"

"Oh, yes - English saddle, of course," he smiled. "She's not what I'd call an accomplished rider for her age, but she can manage and she's not afraid."

"Excellent. Okay, Papa," she smiled, "your job is to stand on the other side of the fence and watch. That's it," she emphasized, "and remember: she'll be fine."

"I'm trusting you with my child's well-being," he said meaningfully, looking her in the eyes, and Elsie understood in an instant that he was completely serious.

"I know you are," she said, albeit a bit breathless in her attempt to reassure him, "and I thank you. I promise, you won't be disappointed."

Elsie marched off to get Scarlett saddled and bridled, a task which she asked Daisy to help with. Charles watched through the barn door in awe as this amazing woman smoothly involved his daughter in these important tasks, once again asking only 'yes or no' questions to which Daisy could clearly reply with a nod or shake of her head. Daisy was fairly competent in how to saddle a horse, but she lacked the physical strength at that time to lift the saddle onto its back and to cinch the strap appropriately; Elsie foresaw this and asked Daisy only to steady the horse as she did those tasks, giving Daisy a carrot to feed to Scarlett as a reward for being good. But it was Daisy, Charles noted, who got to put the bridle on - thanks to a step stool that Elsie had dragged out for her to stand on.

"Would you like to bring her out to the paddock?" Elsie asked her.

Nod.

"Alright, then, here you go," Elsie said, handing Daisy the lead and grabbing the stool. Together, they walked a very calm Scarlett out to the paddock, in full view of Charles and Max, who had exited the barn and approached the fence. Charles leaned against the now-safe fence, and Max sat quietly beside him.

Charles was amazed at the calm nature of the horse and at how comfortable Daisy seemed in what was, despite her past lessons, a somewhat unfamiliar situation. It had been at least a year since she'd been on a horse of any size, and he noticed as the next half hour went on that Elsie had carefully provided multiple opportunities for Daisy to actually care for Scarlett: the carrot, the bridle, lots of petting, encouraging her to hug Scarlett gently around the neck, and the brushing down after their brief ride was done.

"Would you like for me to light the grill?" Charles called, and Elsie looked up and nodded.

"If you wouldn't mind? Thank you, I'd nearly forgotten," Elsie admitted. "We'll be about ten more minutes, I think."

"I don't mind at all." He headed off, smiling at how comfortable he felt being here at this 'L'il Farm.'

Once the grill was lit, Charles decided to pour a glass of lemonade for all three of them. He found a tray next to the refrigerator, and opened two cabinets in search of some glasses, silently pleased at Elsie's supreme organization, at how everything he needed to find seemed to be put into the cabinets that he, himself, would have used for them.

Task completed, he carried the tray out to the back patio, where Elsie had a table and chairs set by the pond. He set the tray down and then made his way through the backyard, walking along the edge of the pond until he could see the barn and paddock area to his left, across the driveway.

Elsie and Daisy were just coming out of the barn, Daisy barefoot and carrying her socks and shoes in her hand.

And then Charles's breath caught in his throat, for Elsie stopped Daisy for a moment, then moved behind her to fix her ponytail, which must have come loose when the girl removed her riding helmet. He watched as Elsie removed the elastic and held it between her teeth as she combed through Daisy's hair with her fingers as best she could, then plaited Daisy's hair in a loose braid, making it look much neater than it had been moments before. Daisy looked at her and smiled her thanks, and Elsie nodded. "We can't have you looking messy for your Papa," he heard her say, and Daisy giggled.

Giggled. She's laughed more since we've moved to Misty Cove than she has in the past year prior, perhaps more.

He couldn't help but think that this had more to do with this motherly, no-nonsense, auburn-haired nurse/farmer than he'd originally wanted to believe … and that thought was not entirely unwelcome.

"I've brought some lemonade out to the back porch," he called to them.

"Alright, just let us wash up and I'll get the chicken cooked," Elsie replied.

She saw Charles nod and turn back to look out over the pond, and couldn't help but think that, for the first time in a great many years, she felt completely happy, completely at peace with this little family that had appeared in her life so unexpectedly.

The thought scared the hell out of her.


*The description of The Cheeky Devil is based upon a breakfast place called Amoré in Ogunquit, Maine, and it's delicious.

*Equine-facilitated psychotherapy is a real thing, and the school district where I work has a farm that does it. Look it up – it's truly remarkable. :)

Reviews are welcome! :) x