Page 5 of The Cowboy and the Baby

A full twenty seconds passed while I grappled with the fact that Cade Callahan sat next to me. That he—out of everyone in the Chicago airport—helped me when I was desperate for aid, and now we shared a two-person row.

Wild didn’t give this situation justice.

While the flight attendants strolled past and the engines rumbled to life, I reached for Lily’s bottle again, grateful to have something to do. Fiddling with her bottle cap gave me another second to maneuver through these unexpected turns.

Cade.

Grandpa’s foreman.

No wonder picking me up wasn’t an inconvenience. He was already going to be at the airport from his own flight. I almost let loose a nervous, barky laugh. The one I released when I didn’t know what to say or do.

Oh, no.

Oh, dear.

I had hoped to show up at the ranch, settle inside, and figure out how long I could live there before the bills caught up with me and forced me to find a different solution. Most of my savings would fund the attorney fees for finalizing Lily’s temporary guardianship, and then court adoption, on top of diapers, formula, doctor visits. Oh, and food.

At some point, I should eat.

Tangential.

Tears rose again, but I blinked them back. How was I this emotional, but I wasn’t the one who delivered a baby? Could I sympathy-cry for my dead sister? The plane swung around, taxiing toward a distant runway.

Focus, I told myself. Focus, Noelle. You can get through this hurdle. It’s just a plane ascent. It’ll even out, and Lily won’t flip her lid again.

Since taking Lily home from the hospital, I sometimes coached myself. It helped to address myself like a third person. Someone I could chastise and alternately encourage as “she” struggled for survival. Helped me step outside of the situation and guide, instead of experience. Because some experiences were too painful to sit with right away.

The definition of too much had expanded exponentially for me in the last month. Cade almost fit that definition, as well. Too much cowboy. Too much generosity. Too much to look at, with his five o’clock shadow, eyelashes for days, and short-cropped hair just long enough to run his fingers through.

Grandpa’s adorable, handsome, and gentlemanly foreman would not only help me on the plane, but to the ranch.

And then what?

Where would Cade go after I inherited Iron Creek Ranch? I wouldn’t inherit it, of course. Uncle Bart would. He and Marsha had stayed in touch with Grandpa all these years. They didn’t visit often, but enough to maintain ties. My father had cut himself off from his family decades ago, so he wouldn’t get diddly squat. And I didn’t blame Grandpa for that.

Grandpa loved Naomi and me, though. He sent cards all the time.

Cade cleared his throat before asking, “What can I do to help you on the flight, Noelle? It seems we’ve been thrown together a little bit early.”

My eyes closed in a moment of sheer disbelief. Good grief. Did Cade have to be perfect? Why didn’t Grandpa hire someone mean and ugly?

An elephant sat between us.

A big one.

“I’m sorry that I didn’t tell you about Lily over text messages,” I burst out. “I should have let you know that I’d be bringing a baby with me. I realize that. I just . . . you wouldn’t believe how wild the last month has been.”

Cade became very still.

I waved a hand in the air and said, “There’s a whole story, and I haven’t had a moment to think about it because?—”

“Not a big deal, Noelle. You can bring whoever you want.”

His light shrug confirmed his easygoing words, though the surprise hadn’t bled from his eyes yet. I’d never met Cade; only heard stories about his natural talent with the animals from Aunt Marsha. She crooned over him often, and now I could appreciate why.

The only competition Bart has for the ranch is Cade, Marsha said a few days ago, but I’m sure Morgan wouldn’t have left the ranch to someone outside the family. Fly to Wyoming with Lily, talk to the lawyer, and once he confirms that Morgan left it to Bart, you can have full run of the place. We don’t really have plans for it. If Cade wants to keep running it, we’d be fine with that, as long as there’s money in the ranch to employ him.

Full run.