Unleashed Desires

Chapter 4

Amy

As soon as I wrap up my statement, my mom interrupts. "The sitter just called. Dakota's not feeling well. Can you go pick her up?" she asks.

"Sure thing. I'm all done here anyways," I replied, already grabbing my jacket and keys.

As I'm about to head out, the Deputy I'm speaking with raises an eyebrow. "Sitter? Do you have a kid?" he asks, clearly surprised.

I don't even bother waiting for his judgment. "Yeah, I have a three-year-old. And before you say anything, yes, I had her when I was fifteen," I said, preempting his criticism.

He glances at my hand as if searching for a ring. "What about the father?" he asks hesitantly.

I didn't miss a beat. "He's not in the picture," I replied, my tone making it clear that I had no interest in discussing it further.

"Impressive! Do you manage everything on your own? My wife had me hire a nanny and a housekeeper, and even then, we often eat out more than in," he remarks.

"Sorry, I have to go. If you need further assistance, let me know, and I'll be happy to stop by the station to help," I said, hurrying out the door to pick up my daughter.

As I make my way to Dakota, I feel content with how the day unfolded. I am pleased that the pony has found a new and improved home. Additionally, I facilitated five successful adoptions, which means five fewer animals are at risk of being euthanized this week.

It was a wonderful moment when the Police Officer, with a wealth of experience, complimented me on my work with the pony. This positive feedback was significant, as I recently lost a case.

As I arrived at the sitter's place, I noticed Dakota was acting uneasy, tugging at her ear and whimpering. My heart sank, suspecting an ear infection. I contacted the Pediatrician's office without hesitation, and they accommodated us. Hours passed by as we waited anxiously for confirmation, and finally, the diagnosis was confirmed after a prescription for antibiotics was given.

As the day drew to a close, my thoughts were consumed with the hope that tonight would be uneventful. The idea of a sudden emergency call filled me with dread. Upon arriving home, I found Dakota fast asleep in her little seat. I gently lifted her into my arms and placed her on the sofa. Before heading out to the barn to tend to the horses, I asked my dad to keep an eye on her. He readily agreed, and I went to the stables, hoping for a peaceful and mundane night.

The time I spend in the barn allows me to decompress after a long day. Although my siblings are mildly interested in horses, my connection with these majestic creatures is far deeper. Despite the considerable responsibilities of being a parent and a horse owner, I find solace in caring for them. This routine helps me transition from work mode to being fully present for my daughter.

As soon as I entered the room, I noticed my dad lying on the couch with Dakota on his chest. Both of them are sound asleep, and I can't help but smile at the sight. I grab my phone and take a quick photo to cherish this moment forever. It reminds me of the importance of family, and I can't help but think of my mom, sister, and grandma. They're always nagging me to find a partner for Dakota to have a father. However, I know deep down that my dad is the best father figure she could ever have. Their bond is irreplaceable, and nothing can compare to his love for his granddaughter.

Recently, my sister and I disagreed about my love life. She suggested I join dating sites to find a suitable partner, but I sensed her motives were not pure. She even included a request for pictures of their truck in my profile, which seemed bizarre and unlikely to attract genuine interest. I understand she's attempting to be humorous, saying it's quite obvious that the girl who loves horses requires a decent vehicle to transport them. But really?

I need help understanding how to make room for a relationship in my hectic life. My job requires me to be available around the clock, and I am already a devoted parent to my child, Rottweiler, and horses. The idea of adding another person to the mix seems overwhelming, and I doubt any man would be eager to take on such a responsibility. I am content with my single status, and my priorities will always be focused on Dakota and my critters.

As I prepare dinner, I anticipate my mother's arrival from the animal shelter where she volunteers. I know she'll be exhausted and need some food and relaxation. As I finish, she walks in, and I greet her with news of Dakota's ear infection. Concern creases on her face, but I assure her I'm taking care of it.

After hanging up the phone with my grandparents, who agreed to watch Dakota while I'm at work tomorrow, I'm relieved to have a plan in place. They refuse my offer to pay them, and I smile, knowing I'll simply leave the money on their kitchen table as I gather Dakota's things and head out the door. It's comforting to know that I have such a supportive family who are always there to lend a helping hand. My chosen profession demands a great deal of assistance, and I am grateful for the support of my team, without whom I could not accomplish what I did.

As I rouse Dakota from her slumber, I quickly prepared a meal and sat her in her booster seat. She chatters incessantly, eager to hear about the animals I tend to at work. Her enthusiasm for fostering more pets warms my heart, yet I can't help but feel a pang of apprehension at the thought of her growing up too quickly. Time is a precious commodity, and I vow to savor every moment with my little girl.

My upbringing was a unique experience. As a middle child, I learned to be independent from a young age. My half-sister was the oldest and received a lot of attention and gifts from our grandparents. My brother was born soon after me, and my mother had her hands full taking care of him. Although it was challenging at times, I am grateful for the experience because it made me the strong and self-sufficient person I am today. I hold no ill feelings toward my family; it was simply how things were, and I learned to make the best of it.

My mother delights in recounting the tale of my precociousness as a toddler. At the tender age of two, she told me I could not ride my beloved pony, Snowball, as she had more pressing matters. My response indicated my future independence: I took matters into my own hands. I strode purposefully to the barn, fetched Snowball, and took her to the house. I struggled with my tack but refused to be deterred. Eventually, I had to call upon my mother's assistance, but my determination had been established. My love for horseback riding became my primary focus during childhood, and the memories I cherish most are related to those early experiences.

Recalling cherished moments, there was a time in my youth when I rode my horse into the woods bordering the rental home I resided in. I rode my horse with no saddle, and suddenly, she became uneasy and jumpy. I scanned my surroundings for any disturbance, yet there appeared to be nothing to frighten her. However, my eyes caught sight of a huge footprint. Immediately, my horse made a frantic dash back to the house.

"Dad, there's a bear in the woods," I said as I pulled up on my horse.

"Stop running that horse, you'll wear him out," my dad yelled from the porch.

"But there's a bear, Dad," I replied.

"Don't be silly. There's no bear. You're just trying to spook me," he said dismissively.

"I'm not lying, Dad. I saw it with my own eyes. We need to be careful," I said, frustrated and anxious.

I begged my dad to take me back there to see the footprint, but he always insisted that there were no bears in our area. I was disappointed but trusted my dad and moved on to other things.

One day, however, everything changed. I was playing outside when I heard my dad's voice yelling from the direction of the woods. He shouted for my mom to bring him the gun because a bear was by the horse barn.

Unable to resist the opportunity to rub it in, I shouted at my dad, "I told you there was a bear back there!" He yelled at me to go inside, but I stayed put and watched as he ran toward the barn, gun in hand.

I heard a loud bang as my dad fired at the bear, but it was already running away, and he missed his shot. We all breathed a sigh of relief once the bear was out of sight, but I couldn't help feeling satisfied that I had been right all along.

A few weeks after the encounter, we heard from a neighbor that someone in the area had been keeping a bear as a pet. It was shocking but it explained why the bear seemed so docile and came towards us. However, the game warden was now hunting for the bear's owner, facing serious consequences for keeping a wild animal as a pet and releasing it into the wild.

It was a relief to know that the bear was not still wandering around the area, potentially causing harm to people or other wildlife. We never saw the bear again, but we later heard that it had been caught and taken to a sanctuary where it could live a safer and more natural life.

My thoughts were interrupted by the sound of my daughter's laughter. I saw her playing with her dolls, lost in her little world. At that moment, I realized how much I wanted her to have happy memories to look back on.

Memories of a childhood filled with love, laughter, and joy. Memories of family vacations, birthday parties, and lazy afternoons spent playing outside—memories of feeling safe and secure, surrounded by those who loved her.