Page 89 of The Cowboy and the Baby

Noelle held herself together until her parents’ taillights disappeared, then collapsed in my arms. She cried, and we didn’t say much. I held her, rubbed her back, and died a little while she hiccuped in my arms. Exhausted, she went to bed at the same time as Lily.

Now I sat at the table in the deep of night, alone. Paperwork, receipts, and hastily scrawled notes cluttered the table. My eyes burned from the late hour, and the thought of wrapping my brain around all these numbers made me want to tip the table over.

Someone had to look at them.

Even at midnight.

I shoved away, rubbed a hand over my face, and closed the empty folder that once held all of the receipts and statements that I studied now; a couple fluttered to the floor and the rest remained sprawled over the top, but I ignored it. I’d clean it up in . . . four hours when I had to wake up.

Four hours.

Good gravy.

A creaky bed awaited downstairs, but the basement still smelled like a burning mixture of bleach and mildew. The four close walls down there were suffocating. I threw myself onto the couch, tossed a hand over my eyes, and tried to relax my knotted shoulders.

They didn’t relax.

Although hours had passed since Noelle’s parents had surprised us, the fury of their visit remained with me. It definitely contributed to my late night and distraction. There was no way to remove the hurt her Dad gave. Not knowing what to say was also terrible.

With a start, I realized I hadn’t called Cora to tell her about the video call with Mom, and a flash of guilt moved through me. I’d forget again if I didn’t tell her right now. Something else in the ranch or house would swamp me in the morning, so I typed out a text message to assuage myself.

Cade: I forgot to mention it to you the other day, but Mom video called from Pastor Mike’s phone. She wasn’t coherent for much, but I did speak to her.

I hesitated, skimming the awkward words. I couldn’t write words if someone paid me. There had to be a better way to tell Cora. Yet, it was almost one in the morning, I had to get up in four hours, and so I sent it.

Sleep had started to pull me under when I startled awake again. My phone vibrated on my chest.

Cora: Why are you awake?

Cade: Why are YOU awake?

Cora: I accidentally took a nap this afternoon so I wasn’t very sleepy, and I got caught up in a painting. How was talking to Mom?

I hesitated. Despite having days to think it over, I still hadn’t come up with a good reply.

Cade: Weird.

Cora: About what I expected. You didn’t answer my first question. Why are you up so late?

Cade: I was reviewing bills.

Before she could offer to loan me money for the ranch—which she had done multiple times before—I quickly typed out another reply.

Cade: Everything is fine. I’m just trying to figure out the debts carrying over and the expected cash flow. There are . . . a lot of renovations and updates we need. In more than just the house.

A minute passed before her reply arrived.

Cora: Do you have any minutes in your day when you aren’t trying to save the world for everyone?

Yeah, I thought, when I hold Lily. Though her care required a lot, from bottles to binkies to booties, something about her tiny strength, her quiet yawns and petite sighs, captured me. It felt different, even though providing for her was just as much pressure as supporting anyone else.

Cade: Plenty of them. You’re not mad I forgot to tell you about Mom?

Cora: Not at all, because you just did. Doesn’t matter if it took a few days. I let her go long ago, Cade. She isn’t ours, and never really was. Maybe you should consider that, too?

Cade: I don’t know how.

Cora: You’ll figure it out.