Page 70 of The Cowboy and the Baby

Was Cade the new center of my world? One night of kissing and he had taken up residence?

No. Not at all. Lily was the center of my world. But Cade was the center of my safety, and I wasn’t entirely certain that was fair. He didn’t ask for the heaping responsibility of a newborn and her I-have-no-idea-what-I’m-doing aunt, including all the family issues Lily and I showed up with.

A creaking near the hall brought my eyes open, and I smelled leather and hay a moment before movement occurred at my elbow. A light touch came to my arm, and then Cade was there, crouched at my side.

My heart did a double whomp as his smell, his smiling eyes, appeared at the same time, as if he’d manifested from my thoughts. Though he touched me, he only had eyes for Lily. The same tenderness he always gave her appeared again.

After skimming his eyes over her with a smile, he raised his focus to me. His rampant adoration was almost too beautiful to believe. It brought a lump to my throat, settling the quiet fears I hadn’t known were there. I feared the promises he made yesterday that he’d regret later; that he was avoiding me.

But no man looked at a woman like that if he held any regret.

He lifted a finger, traced it along my cheekbone.

“Hey.”

I whispered, “Hey,” with little more than a croak. He set one knee on the ground, bent the other, and propped his arm on it. His other hand settled on my thigh. He gripped it just above the knee, and the weight comforted me.

“Sorry we’ve been scarce. I had the boys get up an hour early to finish the chores, and I did one more plow along the driveway to make sure it was clear for them to make it to the house. With rentals, you never know how they handle in deep snow.”

“Thank you.”

Cade paused, then added, “I also had the two knuckleheads get up early because I want them outside when Sarah and Thomas are here. Wyatt is positioned in the front yard, and Cody by the driveway. Just in case. When the Millers arrive, they’re going to be stationed near each door, and busy with stupid tasks.”

My breath hitched when I realized what he meant. He kept my stare, reading whatever myriad of emotions appeared. My eyes glistened. He remembered. He already remembered what I was afraid of and took pains to assure me. With my free arm, I touched my fingertips to the hollow of his cheek.

“Thank you.”

He set his hand on mine, squeezed. Then slid his hold to Lily’s back, smiled a little as he watched her breathe. With the greatest tenderness, he pressed a kiss to my temple, breathed deep from my hair, and finally straightened up. He loomed overhead like a protective angel.

“What else do you need?” he asked.

You, I thought.

“Nothing. Cade, this is?—”

“What we do. You’re mine, now. Comes with it.”

With that, he set a hand on my shoulder, squeezed gently. My heart stirred as he hesitated in the doorway.

“I’ll let you know when I see them. You should just . . . enjoy your time with her until then. She is . . . you with her, it’s . . .”

He turned away, head shaking, swallowing hard as he disappeared into the kitchen.

Sarah Miller sported a wide poof of hair, bright pink lipstick, and watery eyes. A gaudy gold necklace hung around her neck, draped over a long-sleeved shirt that skirted artificially distressed blue jeans. Her tinny voice quaked with every other word. The moment I opened the door with Lily in my arms, Sarah teared up.

“Oh! There she is. Our baby girl!”

The love in her voice hit me when I smiled a greeting, a knot in my stomach.

“Welcome, Sarah. Thomas. Come inside.”

After they shuffled in, I relinquished Lily into Sarah’s arms, transferring her carefully. Without looking around, uttering a greeting, or even looking in my eyes, Sarah accepted Lily, clutched her tight, sat on the chair, and cried. A tad dramatically, to my estimation, but we all had emotions.

Thomas nodded a greeting to me as he closed the door behind him. His rheumy eyes were as tired as he appeared at the hospital, right after Naomi died. Sarah had been in a similar state—near hysterical, weepy, and vocal enough that the nurses gently escorted her into another room. As if she’d lost her own daughter, and not the tramp who slept with our son, as she lovingly put it before Lily’s birth.

Sarah Miller swung a wide path from doting friend to crazed shrew, often in the span of a finger snap.

Thomas said, “Hello, Noelle. It’s good to see you again. Means a lot that you invited us out. We’ve been . . . very eager . . . to see Lily.”