Courting The Cowboy. Carolyne Aarsen
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not only that, his house looked like the victim of a frustrated burglar. Adana had done nothing today.
He dropped his head on the back of the couch, shifting a still-crying Oliver, the little guy’s cries cutting through the headache that hovered all day.
Too much work and not enough time.
Tomorrow was Sunday, which meant a visit to the kids’ other grandparents. Monday he had another meeting to finish up what they didn’t get done today. He had to move his cows but tax time was looming, so Tuesday he needed to work in the office. The day after that was another meeting with the Milk River Rodeo Association to discuss Cedar Ridge’s proposal to be part of their rodeo circuit. But the Association had balked, claiming there wouldn’t be enough support, asking them to do more studies. Which meant more work for Cord and the Cedar Ridge Rodeo Group. It was work his wife was intensely involved in until her untimely death two years ago.
But it was getting more difficult to juggle his family and the workload plus ranch work. Now his nanny quit just as spring break for his kids was starting.
“I’m hungry, Daddy,” Suzy said. “Can I have a snack?”
“No, honey. It’s getting close to supper time,” Cord said, stroking Ollie’s head as the toddler’s cries finally eased off.
“But I’m hungry now.” Suzy dropped onto the floor and glared at him.
“Please get up, honey. You’ll make your dress dirty.” The floor didn’t look much better than the counter. What had Adana been doing all day?
He probably knew the answer to that one. Checking Snapchat and texting her friends.
Suzy stayed where she was. “I don’t care about my dress,” she said, pouting. “I want something to eat.”
Cord bit back the reprimand that immediately jumped to the fore. The kids were upset. Well, so was he. Adana was the fourth nanny he’d had since Ollie was born. The first one was a friend of the family who got pregnant, the other two he’d fired for incompetence. Adana had only been around a couple of months but came close to getting fired too.
He knew this wasn’t good for the kids. The past two years their lives had been full of confusion and changes. They were probably still dealing with the fallout of Lisa’s death.
He knew he sure was.
He unclenched his jaw and relaxed. “That’s no way to talk to Daddy,” he said to Suzy, keeping his voice even. “And you’re not getting a snack right now. We’ll be eating in an hour and I don’t want you to spoil your appetite.”
“It won’t. I promise.”
“And where have I heard that before,” he muttered, setting Ollie down while cringing at the cracker crumbs and bits of cereal sprinkled over the floor. Ollie fussed again and Cord guessed from the way his mouth was curving downward, things would escalate.
Cord headed to the cupboard to get a bottle started. He knew Ollie was getting too old for that but these days it was the only thing he took and it was the only way for Cord to maintain his sanity.
He opened the cupboard but there were no baby bottles.
“Suzy, do you know where Ollie’s bottles are?”
“I think in the crib,” she said, still sulking on the floor. “Adana put him in bed all morning, but he kept crying so I kept bringing him bottles.”
Cord banked another rush of anger with Adana and her laziness. Probably wasn’t the worst thing that she was gone.
But still.
He looked over at Paul, who sat quietly at the table coloring. His little people pleaser. Suzy was now lying on the floor, arms and legs spread out like a starfish, deliberately ignoring his previous request to get up.
His little boundary pusher. Just like her mom.
Ollie pushed himself to his feet, and started teetering toward Cord.
“Suzy, can you please go upstairs and get a bottle from the crib for Ollie?” he said, bending over to pick him up before he began another full-scale crying onslaught.
Suzy slumped her shoulders and flopped her arms in disgust. But, thankfully, she trudged up the stairs adjoining the kitchen.
“What’s for supper?” Paul asked, looking up from the drawing he was working on.
“I planned chicken, potatoes, broccoli and a salad.” At least that was the menu he had set out for Adana to prepare.
But a check of the refrigerator showed him no chicken was thawing and as far as he could tell no potatoes had been brought up from the cold storage off the garage. He’d have to go get them himself. And from the way Ollie was pouting, he’d have to take the little guy with him.
“Suzy, do you have the bottles yet?”
She showed up at the top of the stairs, no bottle in hand but holding another dress. “I want to change,” she announced.
He stifled a groan of frustration and dug way down, trying to think of what Lisa would say. She’d always had more patience than he did.
“Please, just bring down Ollie’s bottles,” he said, forcing a stiff smile to his face.
She rolled her eyes and flounced off.
Ten minutes later, two complaining kids in tow and lugging a content Ollie who was noisily sucking on a bottle, Cord headed out the door to the root cellar just off the garage.
The sun was sinking toward the horizon and a cool breeze sifted around the buildings, remnants of the winter chill that had finally given way to a reluctant spring season.
In a month Ollie would be two. In a month he and the kids would be visiting Lisa’s grave again.
His heart clenched as it always did when he thought of his wife.
And the little boy now perched on his hip. He remembered too well that day of the car accident that took Lisa’s life. The sight of his wife, so cold and still in her hospital bed after he made the heartbreaking call to deliver Oliver prematurely and then, even harder, to stop all medical intervention.
A week later he took Oliver back to the ranch and he began his life as a widower and father of three.
A bark sounded behind him and he turned to see Ella and her dog heading toward the road.
“Pablo,” his kids shouted, spinning around and running toward them.
“Suzy. Paul. Come back here,” Cord called out, dropping his pail and trying to intercept them.
Pablo barked, jumping up against the leash that Ella had him on. His tail wagged as he jumped again.
“Down,” Ella commanded her voice firm, and to Cord’s surprise the huge dog settled on his haunches whining, his tail flicking back and forth like a plume in the dust.
Paul and Suzy had slowed their steps as Cord caught up to them.
“Don’t run away from me like that.” His eyes ticked from the dog to his children and, against his will, to Ella.
She had her hair pulled back now, anchored by a ball cap. But that only seemed to enhance her large, expressive eyes.
“I’ve got the dog on a leash,” she said, the tone of her voice holding an edge as she looked from the kids to him. “He didn’t go running to the kids.”
“I understand,” he said, realizing where part of her prickliness came from. “And I appreciate your diligence.”
Ella wound her dog’s leash around her hand once more as if to show him that she had her dog under control. “He’s a good dog.”
He’s a big dog, he wanted to say.
“I hate to put you on the spot,” he said, feeling that he needed to lay some ground