Courting The Cowboy. Carolyne Aarsen
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As he came nearer he heard Paul chattering like a magpie, telling Ella all about the garden seeds they were going to buy to grow their own food.
“Can you get Oliver from the nursery?” Cord asked his father. “I’ll take care of this.”
“Sure thing.” His father nodded, but just before he left, Cord caught a glint in his eye that he didn’t trust.
He walked over to join his kids, tamping down his frustration and, even worse, his attraction to Ella. She wore black pants and shirt, with a bright red scarf draped over her shoulders. Her hair was loose, flowing in shining waves.
“Suzy. Paul. Stop bothering Miss Ella. We have to go,” he said, his voice firm so that Ella would understand he hadn’t sanctioned their behavior. Again.
Paul slouched and Suzy made her face but he stopped them midcomplaint.
“Grammie and Grampie are waiting, and I think they have a surprise for you.”
This got him a slightly more interested look. Louis and Hope had said that they wouldn’t be around on Paul and Suzy’s birthdays, which fell within a week of each other. So they said they had a present for them at their place.
He used that to get them away from Ella, who clearly looked like she was ready to make her escape.
“Can we stop and see Pablo again?” Paul asked.
“I don’t think—”
“No, you can’t—”
Ella and Cord spoke at the same time, then both stopped at the same time.
“Why don’t you kids go to the car and wait for me there?” Cord asked.
Paul simply bobbed his head, then slumped through the glass doors. Suzy followed, her arms crossed defiantly over her chest signifying her displeasure.
“Sorry about that,” Cord said, his tone clipped as the door fell shut behind them. “They’ve been pushing boundaries lately.”
She waved off his apology with a vague smile. “They just wanted to say hello.”
There it was again. That hint that there was more to her unease around the kids. She looked up at him and their eyes connected.
Those deep brown eyes softened, and in their depths he saw a flash of sorrow. He couldn’t look away as his own breath became difficult to find. He suddenly wanted to find out more about her.
Then she blinked, lowered her head and the moment was gone as quickly as it had come.
“Have a good day,” she muttered, then left.
Cord knew he shouldn’t watch her walk away, her head down, her hands clutching her purse like she was hanging on to a lifeline.
Her car was parked by the graveyard adjoining the church parking lot, and as he looked past her to the headstones in their neat rows he felt himself pulled back to reality.
His wife was buried there and in an hour and a half he would be sitting in her parents’ house. Once again hearing how wonderful their daughter was and how much they missed her.
Which as always, created a sickening guilt over Lisa’s death. A death he always felt personally responsible for.
Here she was again. Facing another blank piece of paper and no inspiration.
Ella wanted to scream her frustration. Especially because she even went to church yesterday hoping for something. Some peace or inspiration that would allow the thoughts and ideas to flow.
And again, nothing.
Then, as if her life was one endless round of déjà vu, once again she heard Suzy’s and Paul’s voices near the house. They were chattering away about something. Clearly excited.
Once again Pablo got up and ran to the door.
On the one hand, Ella fought down her own frustration, but at the same time part of her welcomed the intrusion. Clearly she wasn’t getting any work done anyway. And somehow the thought of seeing them didn’t bother her as much as it initially had.
She turned in her chair, and saw Pablo still sitting by the door, looking expectantly outside.
Then she heard faint whispering, and curious to know what was going on, she got up.
The kids stood with their backs to her house and it looked like Paul was holding something in his arms.
“Maybe we shouldn’t,” Paul said. His shirt was covered in straw and his shorts looked stained and dirty. “Dad said we shouldn’t come.”
“But I think Miss Ella would like to meet Oreo.” Suzy was bent over whatever Paul held in his arms, her own hair sprinkled with flecks of straw. Today the little girl wore plaid shorts and a black T-shirt tattered at the hem. Her hair was a snarled mess. What had the two of them been doing and who—or what—was Oreo?
Pablo stood now, looking intently at the kids, definitely interested in whatever the kids held in their hands. Just to be safe, Ella grabbed him by the collar as she opened the door.
“Maybe we should go back to our house,” Paul whispered.
But then Suzy saw Ella.
“Hi, Miss Ella. Look what we got from our Grammie and Grampie for our birthdays.” She grabbed Paul and spun him around.
An adorable black-and-white kitten lay cradled in Paul’s arms.
Pablo seemed far too interested in the animal, and not in a good “let’s be friends” way, but a “you look like a tasty meal” way.
Unfortunately Paul took her dog’s attention as friendliness. “Hey, Pablo, look what we have,” he said, showing the dog the kitten. “A new friend.”
“Don’t. Please,” Ella warned, her eyes shifting from the rising hair on the back of Pablo’s neck. “I don’t think Pablo likes your kitten.”
“Everyone loves kittens,” Suzy said, and before Ella could stop her, the little girl pushed Paul—and the kitten—closer to Pablo.
Pablo lunged and Ella tried her best to hold him back. Then, to her horror, the kitten, sensing the potential threat, clawed its way out of Paul’s arms and ran into the house, its tiny claws scrabbling across the linoleum.
Pablo spun around and Ella clung to him tightly.
“Paul, please go get that kitten,” she called out.
Paul stood, staring as Ella wrestled with her dog.
“Pablo. Sit,” she ordered in a firm, decisive voice.
Pablo hesitated but did as he was told. Hours of training with the dog had finally paid off. Nevertheless, Ella decided to play it safe and kept her hand on his collar.
“Paul, did you see where the kitten went?”
Paul silently shook his head, still looking at Pablo as if unsure what to do.
“I know where Oreo went,” Suzy announced and marched into the house, patting Pablo’s head as she passed him.
Pablo licked her hand and Ella relaxed. A bit.
“I think he ran into the living room,” Suzy said, disappearing around the corner.
Then Pablo twisted back to the doorway again, almost wrenching Ella’s arm loose. Now what?
Boyce Walsh was limping toward the house, head down, looking as if every step was an effort in his rush to get to the cabin.
He looked up and saw Ella, then waved with one hand. “Hey, Ella.”
Then he stopped, one hand on his chest, looking horribly out of breath. Ella, still