Page 87 of The Cowboy and the Baby

He acted like he hadn’t heard. “You’ve come to the mountains, had a look around, stayed a few weeks. Is it everything you wanted, living here in a desperate house and in an isolated area, jobless, prospectless, and friendless?”

I laughed; I couldn’t help it. He spoke so horribly about the dreamlike world that I never wanted to leave.

“You assume I’m friendless?”

“I can’t imagine who you’d meet out here,” he muttered.

“It’s everything I wanted and more,” I replied easily. “Did you come to lord over me with your self-satisfaction, or is regulatory compliance already starting to break down without me?”

His upper lip almost curled, but he reined it in at the last second. Dad usually put the knife into the center and got right to the point. He hated pre-empting, which gave me a momentary footing.

He said, “Things at work are . . . settling.”

“How is the approval process going?”

He sucked on his front teeth. “Well, that’s part of why I’m here.”

Mom shivered, but I ignored it. I could invite them in, but until I had a clearer picture of intent, I wouldn’t. They didn’t deserve winter warmth when their sole reason for showing up was to beg me to return, all for the sake of Dad’s bottom line. He ran a tight ship. Without me there, I imagined it was a little less tight. If I weren’t overseeing compliance and signing off on the reporting package personally, the others would have to do it.

But they probably weren’t, which meant that the upcoming FDA audit could become a serious problem. If the submission timeline started slipping toward noncompliance, Dad would get squeamish. Squeamish enough to come find me here, in Wyoming, at the last place he wanted to be.

He’d come sniveling to Wyoming for the wrong reason. That part of my life was over.

When Dad didn’t say any more, I waved a hand to encourage him. Undoubtedly, he was waiting for an invitation inside.

“We have an FDA audit next month, and no one knows the operational framework the way you do,” he admitted, his breath pouring in front of him. “And it would be beneficial to have you back to ensure we’re compliant. Your replacement can keep the trial moving forward, but she can’t prepare the company for an audit.”

The words trailed away, and he let them. I wasn’t about to let him off the hook so easily.

Dad tensed his jaw.

“It would be extremely beneficial for you to return.”

The bald statement, so utterly devoid of caring, set me on edge. I shifted my weight, pretended to consider what he said.

“I’m doing well, thanks for asking,” I said, glancing briefly at Mom, who kept her gaze averted, hands folded demurely in front of her. “So is Lily, your only living granddaughter and the one remaining piece of Naomi whom we all have left. Or had you forgotten? Since you didn’t attend her funeral.”

The snippy words shouldn’t have crossed my lips, and their bitter regard didn’t make me proud, but I couldn’t stop them. The haunting experience of standing at Naomi’s grave alone would never leave me.

Dad’s eyes tapered.

I tossed my hands in the air. “It’s been a lot of work, fixing up the ranch house, but I love it. Grandma seems to be everywhere. I found her recipes, and they’re even better than I remembered. Her cast-iron skillet, you remember the one? It?—”

“Enough.”

His command was barely above a whisper, but it did the job he wanted. I snapped my mouth shut, startled by the venom in the word.

Some patterns never changed.

Until now.

“I don’t care about the house, Noelle. I care about the Phase III oncology trial carrying one hundred and eighty million dollars in sponsor funding that you walked out on. You want daycare? Fine. I’ll pay for daycare.”

Another laugh bubbled out of me, rangy and hard. “Daycare, Dad? You think it’s daycare that will win me over? That I came all this way for daycare options? You don’t understand, and you never will.”

His nostrils flared as he released a controlled breath out.

“What do you want?”