Page 88 of The Cowboy and the Baby

Ragged disbelief poured out of me. He didn’t get it? Still? Dad was a very intelligent man. Smart. Cunning to a fault. He walked razor-thin edges and took risks, but the risks typically provided exactly the results he planned for.

Until he worked with people. Numbers, data, science: those he could deal with all day, but the human factor of his life in medicine had always boggled him. A small part of me had hoped that, over time, he’d understand that many people weren’t motivated by achievement or money.

But every time, I walked away disappointed.

“What do I want?” I rasped. “How . . . how can you ask?”

For a moment, he almost looked lost. At the very least, puzzled.

“I wanted you!” I cried. “I wanted your support when Naomi died and ripped my heart out. I wanted you to help me and Lily, but you turned me away. Where else was I going to go? And you have the balls to show up to Grandpa’s house and sneer at it? The one place where I’ve found safety for myself and your granddaughter?”

I stepped forward once, lowering my voice. “You couldn’t make me an offer with daycare or a salary with any number of zeroes that would entice me to return to my career or your business.”

His lips tightened as he absorbed that.

Although I prepared to stomp inside and never speak to them again, he struck me dumb when he said, “I see that you’re right.”

Stunned, I could only stare. Mom lifted her head, brows crashing. Dad licked his lips, wiggled his nose, and said, “Perhaps I played this wrong. Maybe there was a better way to make you happy that I didn’t see at the time, and it’s too late.”

His eyes flickered to mine and held tight. “But the truth is this, Noelle. I’ve known you all of your life. This isn’t good for you. For now, maybe. You’re retreating to lick your wounds and heal from losing a sister. But as your father, it’s my job to look ahead. To see potential issues. You won’t make it here for long. Without a job, you’re going to burn through your savings, and then lose financial security. Who else will you go to, if not home to us anyway? Why waste the time?”

The softness in his tone wasn’t compassion, nor caring, but a strategic shallowness that removed his raspy intensity for something far more targeted. He strove to shoot an emotional arrow. Instead, he swung a bludgeon.

This hurt far deeper. This appeal to some sort of familial relationship that didn’t truly exist. He claimed parentage for me at a time when I was his only path to greater professional success.

Sighing, Dad said, “I know Sarah and Thomas still want Lily, and I think you should consider it very seriously. You’ve done a good job so far. You saw Lily through losing her mom, but now it’s time to reclaim your life. It’s time to let real parents raise her.”

Pain flared. It’s time to let real parents raise her. The jab was swift, certain, and to my heart center. He couldn’t have wounded me more effectively with any other words.

“Yes, with such paramount examples as I had, I can’t possibly go wrong.”

The trembling words struck him short, quick. He became bemused a moment after he absorbed the parry. I felt no better for the muttering. None of this felt better. Not telling him no, not standing up to him. Certainly not Mom standing there, looking small.

“Noelle, this life isn’t for you.”

Quietly, I said, “That’s where you’re wrong.”

Cade stepped onto the porch right then. He strode across it, put his hands on the railing, and stared hard at me. He gave me something to root into; a reminder. His strong hands gripped the boards, and he saw only me.

Whether or not Cade and I worked in the long run, he would set me up here until I found my feet again, and I would. Eventually. When Lily wasn’t so small; when the terror of losing my twin and so many other parts of my life wasn’t so raw.

I’d find my feet again.

Here.

I watched Cade when I said to my father, “I have a new family now.”

Cade seemed to sense my distress, or maybe I wore it on my face, like Mom. He shoved away from the railing, jogged down the stairs, and strode to my side. He put his body between Dad and me, a not-subtle move that sent Dad back a step.

I’d never seen that before.

Cade looked at me over his shoulder. Understanding his silent question, I nodded once. He turned around, reached behind him, and I put my hand in his.

“Thanks for coming,” Cade said to my parents. “I think we’re done here.”

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CADE