Page 47 of The Cowboy and the Baby

I should write something to explain the picture. Maybe a request for more diapers? No, we had plenty. He just bought another box without me asking. He tracked the animals, the boys, the house, and the baby.

Daily, I couldn’t quite believe he was real.

“Stupid,” I whispered, tapping my fist against my head. After ripping out linoleum and not sleeping and talking to Marsha, my once-capable brain had emptied of almost all thought, and I couldn’t produce a reason for sending that picture to him outside of wanting to share Lily with someone.

It implied . . . friendship?

A connection?

Was that my right to imply? We were a bizarre set of roommates. Yet, he really did like Lily. He went out of his way to care for her when I was out with a fever. He held her whenever he could. He talked to her. Sometimes he seemed more at ease with her than I was with her.

Before I could judge my way into a hole, the three moving dots popped up to indicate his response. I sat there on the ground, listening to Lily coo, my body and thoughts frozen, until his reply popped up.

Cade: I will say it again, and many times more: that is the cutest baby I’ve ever seen. How was her nap?

Disbelief flooded me. He not only acknowledged her perfection, but asked about her.

Gah.

I was hopelessly falling for him. My life was a tornado-like spiral into a deepening obsession with him, his voice, his empathy, his care for Lily. Quick-fire irritation with myself followed. Why was I surprised? Cade, the most gentlemanly person I had ever known, would of course compliment the photo and ask the exact right question. Because he knew she’d been struggling with naps.

He cared.

“I’m losing my mind, Illy,” I whispered, referring to her by my favorite nickname. “I’m. Losing. My. Ever. Loving. Mind.”

Noelle: She slept like a champ and woke up all smiles.

After a moment of thought, I added another line.

Noelle: Dinner will be ready in an hour. Pot roast with carrots and potatoes.

Cade: I cannot wait.

How cozy, our conversation. Almost like . . . no. I cut the thought off. Cade and I were not in a relationship. We were adults playing house. Acquaintances thrown into a mutually beneficial situation during a very weird and unstable time, when both of us could use help.

I gathered Lily, her bouncer, and several photos of my sister, taking them upstairs, where warmer air met us.

Soon, I’d need to tackle sorting through the basement. Ideally, we’d rent a dumpster and just haul stuff to thrift stores or the dump, but first, the bathroom.

Bathroom.

Geez.

I’d never get it done at this rate. Not with a baby on my hip.

The sound of scurrying men and whooping shouts came from outside. Cody and Wyatt made me smile.

How lovely to not be so quiet, nor so alone.

17

CADE

A gurgle, a frightened shriek, and the whack of a heavy tool hitting something hard welcomed me inside the ranch house. Snowy from trekking through the herd to check hooves, I hurtled down the hallway toward the bathroom before I comprehended my own speed.

“Noelle?”

Skidding to a stop, I found Lily in a bouncer outside the bathroom, and Noelle standing within. She gripped a hammer in one hand, a pry bar in the other. Her chest heaved with giant, panting breaths.