would literally never think to serve dessert to over a dozen kids without making sure they ate something healthy first. That was why all the children at Shiloh Ridge Ranch loved “Auntie Etta” so much.
“Everyone to the table,” she called, and a scuffle happened as the older children helped the younger ones into highchairs and booster seats. “Hailey, you get the birthday throne today.” Etta indicated a dining room chair that had been draped in a bright yellow cloth. Someone had then painted gems along the tops and sides of it, and a legitimate tiara hung from one side. Etta picked it up and placed it on Hailey’s head, beamed at her with such love and adoration that August thought he’d entered an alternate reality.
No one would ever love his daughter the way he needed them to—that was what he’d believed after Josie had died. That he might be able to find someone to love him, but Hailey would always be an afterthought. Hailey would always just “come with him.” Hailey herself would be tolerated or overlooked.
But that so wasn’t the case with Etta. She loved everyone who came in contact with her, and August felt himself falling, falling, falling in love with her as he watched her settle that tiara on his daughter’s head and help her into the throne. She sat higher than the other children, and while Etta had been doing that, someone had lit the candles on the birthday cake.
Dot came forward slowly with it and she said, “All right, everyone. Remember the song we practiced?”
“Sing it with me,” Etta said, and she started very slowly with, “Happy birthday to you….”
Everyone joined in, even the teenage boys, and Dot set the flaming cake in front of Hailey. Montana stood on the other side of the table, her phone up, and August experienced a profound moment of gratitude for these women who’d made his daughter—who’d made him—feel so worthwhile and cherished.
The song was sloppy, with everyone laughing at some point. But they made it to the end, and Hailey sat up straighter and blew out all ten candles with one breath. Cam, Mitch, and Link cheered like grown-up cowboys do at the rodeo, and that got all the younger kids riled up.
“Okay, okay,” Etta said, holding up both hands. “Auntie Dot, Auntie Montana, and I will start serving the cake. But only to those boys and girls who are waiting patiently and quietly.”
Instantly, all the noise died at the table, except for Chaz, who already held his fork in his hand. He banged it on the table and said, “Cake, cake, cake, cake,” in his cute little-boy voice.
“Chazzy,” Montana said, gently taking the fork from him. “Quietly.”
“I so quiet,” he said, looking up at her with pure innocence in his eyes.
“I quiet,” Gun said.
“You just talked,” Etta said.
“I’m the quietest,” Smiles said, and August started laughing. These children certainly possessed big personalities, and he found himself loving them with every argument one of them made about how they were being the quietest.
“I guess I’ll have to eat this cake myself,” Etta said, her hands moving for Mitch, who sat down at the end. He stood up and waved his hands to get everyone’s attention. Then he started signing, and Link, Cam, Montana, and Etta all started laughing. Hailey did too.
“What did he say?” he asked Hailey.
“He said he’s obviously the quietest because he never talks, and his ears hurt with all the bickering over which little boy is being the quietest.”
August grinned down to the teen, who grinned on back at everyone else.
Etta awarded Mitch with the first piece of yellow cake with white frosting practically bedazzled with colorful sprinkles. The second went to Hailey, his precious birthday girl, and then he started helping the other adults get cake out as fast as possible. He’d rather do that then have a two-year-old mutiny on his hands.
What he really wanted to do was take Etta outside and kiss her until he couldn’t breathe. Their eyes met, and though he’d just put a piece of delicious, moist cake in his mouth, he nodded toward the foyer.
She set her cake down and murmured something to Montana, who leaned closer to hear and then nodded. She then took his hand, and he abandoned his cake in favor of the woman who’d made it.
He’d barely stepped outside before he said, “Thank you, Etta. I don’t know how you do it, but thank you.” He took her into his arms and kissed her,