Page 73 of The Cowboy and the Baby

“And do they hold her?”

She sounded affronted, and I took instant offense. Instead of rising with the rage I held, I said, “Yes, they do. They’re wonderful with her, and she’s very calm with them.”

“Well, she’s not old enough to know better!” she cried, patting Lily on the bottom as she began to fuss. “She’s a baby, and you are the one protecting her. Not passing her from one worker to the next, and in a house that feels old, and isolated, I might add.”

Thomas had nothing to say to this, but the edges of his lips thinned. Lily let out a cry. Sarah stood up to bounce her.

“Now you’ve upset her,” Sarah hissed impatiently. “There there, wittle pwincess. Gammy is here.”

I left the room to fix her bottle, grateful to slide into the kitchen shadows and buy some space. Thomas, on his own, seemed little more than calm and curious. He had been that way at the hospital. Sarah was as high strung as I expected. More so. Her insinuation against Cade and the ranch hands sent fire zinging through my nerves.

Cade remained in the kitchen, but he had moved away from the sink. He leaned against the wall so they wouldn’t see him unless they stepped inside. Fury tightened his features. He grabbed my stare, held it, and formed a fist with one hand.

“Hold strong,” he mouthed.

I breathed out, nodded.

While I prepared the bottle, I tried to pretend I didn’t hear Sarah’s not-subtle exclamations.

“Noelle looks exhausted, Tom! This is too much for her. An isolated ranch, under renovations. We need a test for asbestos!”

Thomas said nothing.

But Cade tightened with every punctuated breath Sarah issued. She reminded me of a slowly leaking balloon, the way she spoke under her breath, but seemed to shout at the same time. Everyone could hear it. No one knew how to stop it.

Once the bottle was ready, I returned with a smile pasted on.

Sarah cut short mid-sentence as I stepped inside. “I’m telling you, Thomas, this is—Oh, there we are!”

Her manicured nails reached for the bottle, plucked it from my hands. She gave me her back as she offered it to Lily near the window. Thomas turned to me.

“How are you, Noelle?”

Genuine concern and care seemed to be in question, though toned down. He might ask a neighbor the same.

“Losing Naomi, leaving my job, and moving out of my condo was a difficult transition, but I’m better than I have been in a while,” I admitted, and he loosened at my honesty. He probably waited for me to pose as something I wasn’t, like Sarah. To make up a story and beam and simper. But I simply held up my hands. “It’s a lot, but it’s not too much. I grew up here in the summers, so returning to this place has been a balm. It . . . it feels like Naomi is with me.”

“You are far from town.”

His observation held no judgment, but there was an implied question.

I shrugged. “Not so far. The roads are passable. Cade regularly plows, and there are tractors. If we had to get Lily to help, we could. Very quickly.”

Sarah scoffed, but didn’t bother turning to face us. Calculation formed behind Thomas’s eyes, and I realized I had revealed my nerves through what I said, assuming that Lily’s safety is what he meant by his comment.

But it was what he meant.

The problem with Thomas was my inability to read him. His laissez-faire personality hid a man with zero desire to stand up to his wife or deal with her drama. I had a feeling he’d go to great lengths to give her whatever she wanted, just to shut her up. That worked against me in a big way, considering their deep financial pockets. He was the only potential ally I had in this situation, and all I gleaned from his expression was indifference.

“Cade,” Thomas repeated. “He’s the foreman?”

“Yes.”

“Can I meet him?”

“Sure.”

“No,” Sarah hissed as quickly, “We don’t want to meet him.”