Page 10 of The Cowboy and the Baby

“Years ago.”

Had to be more than eight, because I’d never met Noelle. Morgan hired me while Cora was in high school, and paid me enough to keep food on the table after our Mom left without a word of explanation. A decade later, and we still had little information about her.

Noelle chuckled under her breath as she meandered into the kitchen. The light over the oven flickered with a yellow glow, highlighting the old range, a fridge that whirred with a high-pitched whine, and a lime-green sink with a chipped bottom.

Her hand landed on the cast-iron tea kettle.

“Grandma loved this.”

She spun in a circle, eyes illuminating with a smile as she viewed decorations that must have originated in the eighties. A fake bird nest filled a shallow diorama nailed into the wall. A painting of a hayfield with distant horses stretched wide over the table, which had hollow legs, rusting chairs, and a wobbly top.

Noelle giggled.

I couldn’t believe her response. What was funny about this place? Nothing. It was old, tired. Every part of it needed updating, and she hadn’t seen the basement yet. Stained drywall, soggy ceilings, cracked foundation. I’d anticipated terror and overwhelm, but instead she seemed . . . delighted.

She moved closer to a bookshelf stacked with cookbooks, recipes snipped from magazines, and a frosting-thick layer of dust. Lovingly, she withdrew one tome and flipped through it. The old pages crinkled as they passed.

“It’s like a museum of my childhood.”

It was a museum all right.

Of dreams.

Anything in this house had died from obscurity. Once she saw the basement, she’d feel differently. The mess down there would also explain why the place smelled like old beans and old man. But the finances would drive her off for good. Morgan’s financial affairs weren’t catastrophic, but they weren’t great.

Give me forty thousand dollars, he once said, and I’ll sink it into the ranch without a blink. It just cycles through, Cade. Money. Time. Ranches need everything, and all at once.

Noelle wrapped her arms across her chest. Cody must have started the fire, because a gentle glow came from the wood-burning stove on the other side of the kitchen, and the air had no bite. I crossed the room, fed the stove a few logs. The clock overhead showed 11:45. Cody would have come in here last hours ago.

“If you want to put Lily to bed, the master bedroom has a heater. I can get some better heaters for the other rooms tomorrow. There are a few . . . ah . . . of his things in there. I don’t think he has a crib?—”

“What about the sewing room?”

I paused, my hand halfway to the fire with another piece of wood.

“Sewing room?”

“Grandma had a whole room dedicated to her machine, threads, fabrics. She loved to sew. It’s the one across from the master.”

“No idea.”

She gave a sheepish, but happy, smile. “No problem. I’m sure you aren’t in the house much, as the foreman. Anyway, I’ll figure that out tomorrow. Grandma and Grandpa used to let me sleep in their bed when I visited, so it’ll be fun to revisit that space again.”

I tossed the log on the flames and shut the door. “There’s no heat in my room out in the barn, so I’ve been sleeping on the couch in the living room. We’re trying to fix a window. Anyway, if that’s?—”

“No problem. Thanks, Cade.”

She bustled around the kitchen, rummaging through a suitcase of baby things splayed open on the table. I grabbed a sleeping bag from the front closet, tossed my pillow on the couch. She didn’t seem to notice the ministrations, humming to herself as she moved around the kitchen, opening cupboards, the ancient fridge, laughing over Morgan’s favorite spicy mustard.

After I brushed my teeth, changed into old sweats and a loose shirt, and found my earplugs, I peeked my head inside the kitchen.

“Noelle?”

“Hmmm?”

“The attorney, Kinoshi, will arrive at 11:00 in the morning.”

She called with a sleepy tint, “Sounds good! Thanks for everything today, Cade. I’ll see you in the morning.”