Page 44 of The Cowboy and the Baby

She put a hand on Hawk’s knee. He was already agreeing with a murmur. He rested his hand on top of hers and squeezed. “We want to send it.”

A loosening of fears resulted. It would help, surely.

“Thank you both. That would be appreciated. I’ll let the pastor know, and we’ll wait for updates.”

I may have pride, but I wasn’t an idiot.

16

NOELLE

“Be honest with me, Noelle! How is the defunct place, truly?”

Marsha’s voice came through my cell phone as clear as a bell. No more wavering connection or distant shouting. Only the occasional rumble of a crashing ocean in the background. I looked out over the snow-swept landscape, the brilliant blue sky, and frigid air so cold it felt like stepping into a freezer, and didn’t even feel jealous of her.

Marsha soaked up the distant Caribbean.

I tripped over icicles and saw dust.

My life was definitely the better one.

I stood in the living room, peering out the main window with one arm folded across my chest. The break from working in the bathroom was welcome. I’d been kneeling on the floor, peeling up old linoleum stained by who-knew-what. Sometimes it peeled as easily as an orange, and other times I had to chip it away with a hammer and pry bar. The tink tink tink of the tools still rang in my ears.

“The last time we were there,” Marsha continued, not giving me a chance to formulate a response, “was several years ago, and it was in rough shape. You’ve been there for a few weeks, right? What do you think?”

My reply hesitated. Marsha, the old gossip, always sought the next nugget of information to spread. The idea of Grandpa’s house and Cade’s work on it being tittered about amongst her wealthy friends made my stomach turn over.

How could Marsha ever understand?

She couldn’t.

So, I’d do what I did best at my job whenever the auditors showed up and we had something to prove: give the details that mattered, and divert the ones that didn’t.

“Ah . . . it’s definitely old.” I kicked a piece of fluff on the carpet with my stockinged foot. “Grandpa left loads of stuff behind. You wouldn’t believe what he kept.”

“Oh, I would! Is the place functional?”

“Definitely.”

“The last time we set foot in there, I worried the roof would fall through.”

I cast my gaze higher, already knowing what I’d see. While feeding Lily, I had plenty of time to study the complicated design that pooling water left behind. The textured popcorn ceiling was truly horrendous.

“The ceiling is fine, and I think it’s structurally sound. It’s pretty cold out, though. Spring will be a true test of the roof, once snow and ice starts to melt.”

“True.”

“It will require updating,” I added, to keep us on the same track but not grant too much ammunition. With most auditors, it worked. When I left enough space for them to ask questions, they felt free and open. Dad was always pushing new trials, new horizons. While I would never engage in work that might harm people—and he knew that—I was also the best coordinator he had because I enjoyed my work.

With any luck, Marsha would feel like the conversation was productive, even if I didn’t say much.

“And Cade?” she inquired, slurping at something. Probably alcoholic. She sounded buzzy. “How does he feel?”

“Motivated.”

“He’s always been a hard worker.”

“That he is.”