Courting The Cowboy

He watched them leave and once they were out of earshot he turned back to Ella.

“I’m sorry about that,” he said. “Paul was right. They played here all the time. The house used to be my dad’s. I’m sorry they bothered you.”

Before she could say that they hadn’t disturbed her, he carried on.

“And don’t feel like you have to let them come over. I know you’re not crazy about kids.”

She wanted to protest, realizing how things might have looked. But she stopped herself as she held his steady gaze. He was an attractive man and his interaction with his kids made him even more appealing.

She had to shut this down. There was no way she was going there again. Darren had taught her some harsh lessons about trust and relationships.

“If I’m gone when they come over I think it should work out fine,” she said, looking away from his blue-green eyes, reminding herself that she had other priorities, as did he. “Besides, they have school so I probably won’t see them much.”

Cord sighed and shook his head. “Unfortunately they have two weeks off for spring break starting Monday.”

Ella shot him a frown. “So they’ll be around all day?” What was he going to do with no nanny?

“I’m sorry if that’s a problem,” he said, his voice going hard and his hands going up in a gesture of defense as she realized that he had misunderstood her. “They’ll be out of your hair all day today because after church we’re visiting my in-laws in Calgary. But if you need to look for another place to stay, my dad can help you out.”

Then before she could explain what she had actually meant, he turned and walked away.

Pablo barked at him as he went past and Cord shot her dog another frown.

Awesome. Way to underline his perception of us, Ella thought, sighing. Clearly he seemed to think she didn’t like his kids at all.

She glanced at her watch. In twenty minutes they would be leaving for church. She should take Pablo out so she could be gone when they left.

But as she walked back to where Pablo was tied up, the memory of Suzy clutching on to her hand and asking her, so innocently, if she was going to church clung to her thoughts.

I should stay home. I should work.

There was that word again. The one Darren kept throwing at her. She should work harder. She should contribute more.

She should be a better wife.

She didn’t want to do should anymore.

And what do you want to do?

She held that question as she sought the reason she used to attend church.

When she and God were closer. When she trusted Him to take care of her.

Her and her baby.

She shook off the thought but behind it came the thought of Suzy’s expectant face and the hope she was reluctant to extinguish.

* * *

“Miss Ella came to church,” Suzy whispered, grabbing Cord’s hand as Reverend Blakely pronounced the final blessing on the congregation.

Cord didn’t want to look back to see the very attractive Miss Ella with her exotic eyes and narrow features.

He felt a flicker of self-reproach at the attraction she created in him. This morning, when the kids were gone, he’d had to stop himself from taking a step closer to her. From holding her gaze and trying to find a connection between them.

He knew she was all wrong. She didn’t seem to like kids and Suzy and Paul were his priority.

But still, he got such mixed vibes around her. Because while she seemed uncomfortable around his kids, when she looked at them he saw a haunted look that puzzled him. He wanted to find out more about her.

Yet he knew he shouldn’t go there. He didn’t have room in his life for anyone else. Things were getting too busy with his Rodeo Group work.

He turned to leave but his father, who had been sitting beside him, stayed where he was, grinning about something.

“So what do you think about asking Miss Ella over for lunch?” Boyce asked, his eyes bright.

Cord sent up a prayer for patience, recognizing, once again, his father’s not-so-subtle matchmaking.

The past couple of months his dad had been after Cord to go out and date. Make himself available. The same thing his friend Owen had been saying.

“Me and the kids are going to Lisa’s parents’ place for lunch,” he said, squashing his dad’s plans. “Besides, she won’t come anyway.”

“You’re making those poor kids sit in the car for over an hour just for a visit?” Boyce grumped, conveniently ignoring the last part of Cord’s statement.

Cord knew exactly what his father thought of his bimonthly visits to his in-laws. Boyce brought it up most every time he went. “Suzy, Paul and Oliver are their grandchildren too,” he said.

“Seems to me they could get themselves over to the ranch once in a while,” Boyce muttered, hitching up his blue jeans.

Cord wasn’t getting into that old argument. Though they had come to the Bar W a couple of times, Louis and Hope had often said how hard it was for them to be in on the ranch in this house. To see the memories of their daughter and be reminded of their loss.

Did they never think it was hard for him to be there every day?

He brushed the disloyal thoughts aside. He made the trip because he should. It had become a way of finding some type of absolution.

And have you?

“Well, I feel badly for Ella,” his father said, clearly not letting go of that particular topic. “She seems pretty alone.”

“She didn’t have to move out into the back of the beyond,” Cord said, trying to keep his tone neutral, nodding to a few friends. Returning a wave across the rows of pews from one of his many cousins.

Walshes had lived in Cedar Ridge since it was first established, and many of them had stayed, ranching and farming with their families. Creating a community that took care of each other and watched out for each other. It was that community that got him through those dark days after Lisa’s death. When he was alone with a newborn and two grieving children.

Though his father had moved to town when Cord and Lisa moved onto the ranch, he came back from time to time after Lisa died. Having Boyce around the Bar W helped, but Cord had never wanted to lean too much on his dad. Boyce had his own issues to deal with. When Dalton Rennie ducked out of town two years ago, not only had he left behind two daughters, he also left a bunch of creditors on the hook. One of whom was his father. Boyce had spent the past couple of years doing some creative financing to cover the debts.

And now with Cord’s brother, Morgan, talking about coming back to Cedar Ridge, Boyce wanted to find a place for him, as well. All of which created its own stress for him.

“I see Miss Ella,” Paul called out as they stepped into the large, spacious church foyer, brimming with people chatting and pouring themselves coffee. But before he could run over, Cord grabbed him by the arm. “Don’t take off. We’re leaving right away for Grammie and Grampie’s.”

Paul slouched his shoulders forward. “I don’t want to go all the way to Calgary,” he grumbled. Then he brightened? “Can we go to the zoo when we’re there?”

Once again, Cord felt the weight of expectations and his busy life. “Sorry, buddy. You know that Grammie and Grampie like to stay at home on Sunday.”

Paul made a face and Cord understood exactly how he felt. The trips to his in-laws were a steady reminder of his own loss and the consequent guilt. Added to that, the visits were often, to be frank, rather tedious.

His in-laws never wanted to do anything with the kids or go anywhere. Sundays were for spending time together at home, as a family. Lisa had often commented on the fact that Sundays at her home could drag on forever.

“Can’t we stay home today?” Paul pleaded.

Cord was about to respond when someone clapped their hand on his shoulder and pulled him around. “Cord. We need to chat.”

His uncle George stood in front of him, his eyes narrowed, his lips tight.

Cord stifled a groan. Uncle George Walsh was a tall, heavyset man with a bristling mustache and a harsh demeanor. When Cord was younger, he and his brother, Morgan, and his sister, were terrified of him. But George had mellowed somewhat the past few years. In spite of the death of his one son, Dirk, his daughter-in-law, Leanne, had given him a grandchild and George doted on the little boy.

But right now Uncle George was glowering, which made Cord guess that more work lay ahead of them.

“We called a meeting Monday to lay out a new strategy,” Uncle George said. “We need to crunch some numbers.”

“Don’t know if I can make it. My nanny quit and the kids have the next two weeks off,” Cord returned, fighting down his frustration. The proposal was taking up more time than he had bargained for.

“I could get Leanne to watch them for you,” he said.

“She’s working on the fund-raiser.” And the Cedar Ridge Rodeo Group needed every bit of that money to make up for the money it had taken for their current bid to get into the Milk River Rodeo Assocation.

“Right. Forgot.” George blew out a sigh. “It’s real important you show up,” he said. “Lisa had such a burning vision for this.”

And there it was. How did George, every time, manage to find the one thing that would guarantee Cord would find a way to make this work?

His wife’s burning vision. The vision that they fought over and the one that ultimately took her life.

“I’ll see what I can do,” Cord said.

“Thanks. Appreciate all your help.” Then George raised a finger to catch someone else’s attention. “Sorry, Cord, gotta go. See you tomorrow.”

And before Cord could wrap his head around the thought of more meetings, his father tapped him on the arm.

“You might want to talk to the kids. They’re bugging Miss Ella.” He glanced over to where his father pointed. He sighed when he saw the kids chatting with Ella. She stood by the glass doors leading out of the building, one hand on the metal bar. Like she was ready to leave.

Could Paul and Suzy not take a hint? The woman obviously didn’t like them.

Suzy, however, was oblivious as she fiddled with her hair, giving Ella shy glances. 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.

Chapter Three

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 holding Pablo, wasn’t sure what to do.

“Hey, Paul, you should go back to the house. Where’s Suzy?” he wheezed, one hand on the railing of the cabin’s porch.

“Are you okay?” Ella asked, concerned. The man sounded like he was going to have a heart attack.

“Yeah. Just short of breath. Woke up and the kidlets were gone.”

Ella glanced back at Paul who was now stroking Pablo’s head, then back at Boyce. “Is Ollie sleeping?”

Boyce shook his head. “He’s not here. He’s staying at his grandparents’. The other grandparents,” he gasped.

Why did that make her feel relieved?

Then Suzy showed up beside her, oblivious to the low growls Pablo was making. “I’m here, Grandpa. I was just getting Oreo.”

“You kids need to get back to the house. Now,” he said, but Boyce’s breathlessness took away the force of his words. “Your dad is on his way home and he won’t like it that you’re here bothering Miss Ella.”

Ella could see Suzy was having difficulty holding Oreo. A slow growl built in Pablo’s throat.

Suzy was struggling with the now frightened cat. “Oreo, stop scratching,” she called out, tears welling in her eyes.

Ella made a snap decision. “Stay here,” she said, then dragged her dog back to his kennel in the corner of the dining room, reprimanding him on the way.

He settled in the kennel as she closed and locked the door.

Then she returned to the front porch, where Suzy was crying now. Ella gently took the cat from the little girl. Thankfully Oreo curled up against her, settling down right away...

“Why don’t we all go back to the house,” she said, glancing over at Boyce who was still struggling to catch his breath.

“Good idea,” Boyce said as he stood. “Where’s your dog?”

“Inside. In his kennel. I don’t trust him around the kitten.”

Boyce shook his head. “Figures that their grandparents would give them a cat without talking about it to Cord first.”

Ella decided it might be best not to pursue that conversation. Suzy was still upset and she needed a distraction.

“So how old is Oreo?” she asked Suzy as they walked toward the trees.

“Three months old,” Suzy answered. Then she reached up and grabbed Ella’s hand.

Ella’s initial reaction was to pull back, but at the same time, the feel of the sticky fingers woven through hers awoke the same maternal feelings she had when she had first found out she was pregnant.

She choked down an unwelcome thrum of sorrow.

“And does she like it at your place?” she asked, trying to keep the conversation going and keep her mind from going back down the rabbit hole of regret and guilt.

“We just got him yesterday,” Paul chimed in, dancing ahead of them down the path that wound through the trees. It was cooler there amongst the spruce and aspen, and the whisper of the wind in the leaves was soothing. “Grammy and Grampie gave him to us for our birthdays.”

Ella could hear Boyce muttering as he followed them, and in spite of her own tangled emotions, she had to suppress a smile. Clearly he did not approve of the cat. As they walked through the trees she felt a quiet peace enfold her. To one side she saw a bench tucked into an opening, a small respite. She wondered who had put it there and why.

They broke out into the open and Ella gasped. This was the first time she’d seen the house and the ranch. It was hidden from sight by the trees between the two yards.

The house was built in a Craftsman style with heavy trim and large frames around the windows. The porch wrapped around the house, and Ella guessed that the other side had a perfect view of the valley and the mountains beyond.

A ways below the house she could see a barn tucked into a hillside and a herd of cows gathered in an enclosure beyond that. On the other side was a smaller pasture, with a half a dozen horses grazing there.

Past the sweep of a green valley dotted with trees rose the mountains, gray and craggy and iced with snow, a stark white against the blue sky. Though she had a view of the mountains from her cottage as well, it was only a partial glimpse, not this sweeping vista.

“Pretty, aint it?” Boyce said, still winded as he came to stand beside her.

“‘Pretty’ hardly describes it,” Ella said, giving him a cautious smile.

“My wife and I built it many years ago and Lisa renovated it. Lots of memories here.”

He moved ahead of them and Ella followed, still holding Suzy’s hand as they made their way down the slope toward the house.

The front door was flanked with flower pots that had remnants of dead plants hanging limply from them. The flower beds flanking the front door looked equally unkempt. It was sad to see such a beautiful place look so uncared for.

Boyce held the door open for her and she stepped inside, still carrying the cat.

“Just bring that creature indoors,” Boyce said, making a space in the entryway strewn with boots and shoes. “She has a crate there you can put him.”

Ella hesitated but Suzy tugged on her hand. “I can show you the toys we got for him,” she said.

Ella reluctantly followed, and when she stepped into the kitchen she felt a clench of dismay.

Dirty dishes and pots covered the quartz counter. The countertop stove was encrusted with old food and the sink held a few more pots. Pictures hanging askew decorated the stainless steel refrigerator, as did innumerable finger marks and streaks of unknown substances.

Beyond the kitchen a basket piled with laundry sat on the dining room table, clothes spilling out of it onto papers and books and more dishes.

A metal kennel sat in one corner and Suzy crouched down to open it up. “We can put Oreo in here,” she said, reaching up.

Ella relinquished the cat, trying not to grimace at the sight of the family room through the arched doorway of the kitchen. A television was blaring, and toys of all shapes and sizes joined more clothes scattered on the beautiful fawn-colored leather couch and love seat. A fireplace filled one wall, flanked by white columns and bridged by a mantel that held dusty candles next to a framed picture of Cord’s family.

She could see the picture was a candid shot taken outside. Sunlight illuminated Cord and his wife and children.

Cord stood with Suzy perched on his hip, her arms wrapped around his shoulder as she leaned away from him, the sun making a halo of her hair. Cord had his other arm draped around the shoulders of a stunningly beautiful woman with wavy blond hair. She in turn had her hand on Paul’s shoulder, her other hand cupped around her pregnant stomach.

Ella turned away, frustrated that the picture so easily evoked memories. Was she ever going to put the past behind her?

Boyce looked at her and frowned as if he had caught the vulnerability she had allowed to slip over her features.

She lifted her chin, determined to push past it all. “I should get back to the cabin and back to work.”