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Lainey: Let's meet here.

I breathe through anger and fear, clenching my fist, then reply.

Me: Please. I'm not asking for anything except to hold my daughter somewhere quiet. No yelling, no audience, just her and me and you, if you want to stay in the room. Otherwise, I'll come get her and take her to my place on my own.

There's another long stretch of nothing. It's so long that I start composing a second message, delete it, start over, and then her text appears.

Lainey: Fine. I'm only agreeing because you didn't push earlier when you could have. But don't threaten me about taking my daughter.

Me: It wasn't a threat. I have no desire to take Charlie away from her mother. But I'm going to be in her life now that I know about her. It's not negotiable.

Lainey: Good to know you don't want to take her away from me.

Me: I would never want that or do anything of the sort. See you at 8:00.

I glance at the scorched pasture, then at the soot on my hands. My chest finally loosening around a fear I didn't fully register I was carrying until it started to ease.

We finish loading equipment back onto the truck in the shadows of the evening. Dad asks, "You coming up to the house for supper?"

I shake my head. "No. I've got somewhere to be."

My response earns me a long, assessing look. But he doesn't push, which surprises me as well.

I skip supper entirely, driving straight back to my own house instead of the main one. I shower and spend extra time scrubbing smoke and dirt off my skin so it doesn't harm Charlie. Everything feels different since I stood in this exact spot earlier today, trying to figure out how to face Lainey Cooper. It's like I aged a decade in a matter of hours.

There isn't time for that kind of nerves tonight, I tell myself.

There's a baby girl three hundred yards away who doesn't know my face yet, and every single minute I waste feels like one more minute stolen from both of us.

I dress fast, comb my hair back with wet fingers, and pace my living room. When it's 7:40, I text Wyatt.

Me: Going to get Lainey and Charlie. I'm bringing them back to my house. Can you let me know if you see anyone outside who can see us?

Wyatt: On it.

My nerves calm a bit. The last thing I need is a bunch of Cartwrights in my house overwhelming Lainey and Charlie.

I exit my house, walking the frozen path toward the Butterfly House with my heart thumping harder than it did during the last encounter. I take the porch steps two at a time and knock.

Lainey opens the door quickly. Charlie's bundled thick against the cold in a baby sling and pink hat. Her face is buried into Lainey's chest, her red hair barely peeking out.

Her mother stands behind her, still giving me a look like she doesn't trust me as far as she can throw me.

"Ma'am," I say, tipping my cowboy hat. Then I reach for the diaper bag. "Let me carry that."

"Thanks," Lainey offers.

Her mama doesn't say anything, just stares with narrow eyes, her arms crossed.

"Bye, Mama," Lainey says, pulls a blanket over her chest to cover Charlie further, and steps out of the house.

My stomach dances in knots. I put my hand on Lainey's back, tucking her close to me to avoid the harsh cold, and guide them down the path to my house.

We don't speak during the walk. Once we're inside, the door shuts against the cold. Lainey hesitates by the couch and lets the blanket fall. Charlie's still wrapped tight against her chest.

"Can I?" My voice comes out rough, cracked. I hold out my hands.

She hesitates, then nods. She steps closer, easing Charlie out of the sling and places her in my arms with care.