Page 85 of The Cowboy and the Baby

Across the table, Cade’s stare bore into me. I felt the questions he didn’t ask, but I wasn’t sure how to answer them.

I feel scared.

Livid.

My quieting inner coach replied, But you’re not alone this time, Noelle, and that made all the difference.

I used the side of my fork to cut into the steaming pile of mashed potatoes on my plate, and finally lifted my eyes to him. He elevated an eyebrow. A heap of meatloaf and broccoli swam in gravy on his plate.

“Well?” he asked.

“After meeting Channing? I feel better. Scared, but better. Angry,” I added, my shoulders drooping. “Livid that Sarah and Thomas would try something so ridiculous after we opened the house to them in goodwill. But surprised? Not necessarily. Everyone is seeking some kind of atonement, aren’t they?”

Cade scoffed and speared a broccoli floret. His lack of reply was answer enough. I pushed my plate away and peered beneath Lily’s blanket. She had fallen asleep, oblivious to the battle for her life. Such an easy baby.

I asked Cade, “What about you?”

“Not sure what to think, but I liked Channing. He had it together.”

“We’re lucky to have him.”

“You deserve him.”

His immediate reply warmed me through, but still couldn’t permeate the haze of disbelief that I lived in these days. How could this be my life? I escaped my ridiculous family, faced my niece’s birth and my sister’s death, and adopted my niece, only to find a supportive family with open arms, willing to pay attorney retainers?

It stunned me if I thought too hard about it, and I was too tired to think hard about anything.

Quietly, I asked, “Do you think we’ll win?”

Cade met my eyes.

“Yes.”

His belief, so simple, yet profound, went a long way in soothing some of my rattled nerves. I reached across the table, put my hand on top of his.

“It meant a lot to have you in there with me today. I could have done it on my own, but I’m glad that I didn’t have to.”

He flipped his hand over, sealed our palms together, and said, “I’m not going anywhere, Noelle.”

The buzz of my phone interrupted a soul-deep exchange, where I felt like pieces of me transferred to him and back. I startled, saw Aunt Marsha’s name, and swiped to refuse it. I sent a text that said, I’ll call you later, and tucked the phone away.

I didn’t want to think about family members, attorneys, or issues.

Right now, I just wanted me, Lily, and Cade.

Slush sprayed beneath the truck as we rumbled up the driveway. Snow twirled from a cold, slate sky, whipping past the windshield and gliding beyond. I yawned, my stomach still heavy from our late lunch.

The boys were supposed to finish hanging drywall in the bathroom today, and I would need to watch online tutorials for how to tape and mud the walls while they worked on other chores. Thankfully, it wasn’t hard physical labor at this stage, but it did require brain function to even attempt it.

I pondered a cup of coffee.

Cade muttered, “What in the H.E. double hockey sticks . . .”

My head snapped up to find an unknown Jeep in the driveway, idling. Smoke chugged from the chimney above the ranch house, setting a cozy winter landscape. Two people appeared to be in the car, but I couldn’t be certain. My stomach dropped as a man stepped out of the driver’s seat.

I reached over, put my hand on Cade’s arm, and whispered, “It’s my dad.”

“I’ll handle this.”