“I don’t want you worrying about anything from now on—I’m going to do that. And everything will be fine. I promise.”
Cody looked up at his uncle, and Conner knew the little boy was doing his best not to cry. “Come here,” he said gruffly, gathering the boy up and giving him a big hug. “That was a very grown-up thing you did, Cody. To call me.”
The boy wrapped his arms and legs around Conner, then whispered unevenly against his uncle’s neck, “I was kinda scared.”
“It’s okay to be scared, Tiger. But you don’t have to be scared anymore, okay?”
“Okay.”
“Mom ith up!” announced Miss Sarah as she skipped into the room. Abby followed her in, looking dazed and almost drunk. And she was trembling. His insides bunching up, Conner realized that she was in far worse shape than he’d originally thought. This was a woman who was literally running on empty. Setting his nephew down, he fixed a neutral expression on his face and crossed the room. Breaking his hard-and-fast rule for the third time that day, he took her by the shoulders, turned her around and aimed her toward the stairs. “You’re going back to bed, Abby,” he said, using a tone that no one in his right mind would ever mess with.
She looked at him, her eyes dazed. “I can’t. The kids are home. And I’ll have to fix dinner.”
He shook his head. “You’re going back to bed. I’ll look after the kids and I’ll fix dinner.” She opened her mouth to respond, and he shook his head again. “Don’t argue with me, Abby.”
She closed her eyes and clasped her head, and he had to fight back the urge to pick her up and carry her up the stairs. That kind of touching was definitely out of bounds. Cody seemed to pick up on his uncle’s mood. Taking his mom by the hand, he led her toward the front hall. “Come on, Mom.”
Conner watched them leave the room, then he went outside on the deck, bracing both hands on the rail and bending his head, his jaw rigid. For the first time in his life, he experienced a bitter rage toward his brother. He should have had his ass kicked for leaving Abby in such a bloody mess.
“Are you mad at my mom?” came a small voice at his elbow. Giving himself a minute to get his anger under control, Conner turned his head and looked at Abby’s daughter. He wasn’t going to try any kind of dodge with this kid. His expression unsmiling, he shook his head. “No angel. I’m not mad at your mom. I’m mad at the person who upset your mom.”
Her head tipped to one side, Sarah watched him, considering his answer, and whether it was on the level.
Conner almost smiled. Both she and her brother had the Calhoun dark blue eyes and dark curly hair, but there was a whole lot of Abby in this one, especially in that pointed, determined little chin. As if deciding his answer was on the up-and-up, she announced, “Mom thaid we could have macaroni and cheese for dinner. Do you know how to make macaroni and cheese?” His mood lightening, Conner swung his niece into his arms, flipped her over and carried her into the house. He was rewarded with a squeal and a giggle.
“Of course I know how to make macaroni and cheese.”
Still giggling, Sarah grasped his pant legs. “You got your boots on, Uncle Conner. Mommy ith going to give you heck for having your boots on in the houth.”
He laughed and swung her over his shoulder. “And I suppose you’re going to tell her.”
She managed to get her arms around his neck. “Nope,” she said, squirming around to look him square in the eye, letting him know exactly what side his bread was buttered on. “Becauth you’re going to make me macaroni and cheese.”
Conner laughed and tipped her upside down again, letting her slide onto the kitchen table. This kid was going to pull out all the stops, that was for sure. He had to admit that his independent, strong-willed niece amused the hell out of him. But he didn’t kid himself either. Anyone taking on this kid was going to have to be quick off the mark to keep ahead of her. No doubt about it.
He fixed an early dinner for them and debated about waking Abby up, but decided against it. It was as if having someone there had allowed her to pull the plug on everything she’d been frantically juggling, and her body had simply shut down on her. She was still asleep when he put the kids to bed. And she was still out cold when he decided to turn in. He heard her get up in the middle of the night, and he forced himself to stay right where he was. He reminded himself that he had come here to help her, not make things worse.
In spite of the jumble of thoughts racing around in his head, he actually slept far better than he expected to. He awoke at sunrise, recalling the alarm clock he’d seen on Abby’s bedside table. Feeling slightly hungover, he pulled on a pair of jeans, then slipped down the hall and into Abby’s room, confiscating the clock. He’d be damned if he was going to let an alarm clock wake her.
He made the kids flapjacks for breakfast, managing to outmaneuver his niece when she tried to exploit his boots-in-the-house misdemeanor. And he didn’t even try to play referee when the two of them got into a pitched battle in the front hall over who got to go out the door first. He simply grabbed them both by the back of their school jackets and set them on the doorstep like a pair of boots. Obviously, by the stunned looks on their faces, their mother was more into negotiation and refereeing. Cody looked slightly peeved when the bus pulled away, but Sarah was dramatically blowing kisses from the back window. Conner couldn’t help but grin, wondering what nefarious schemes she was cooking up in that little head of hers.
He watched the bus disappear around the curve, then turned and went back into the house, his expression turning grim. It was time to take care of business. And it didn’t matter whether Abby liked it or not, he was taking over.
It took him no time to find the information he needed on the New York loan company—all he had to do was go through the efficiently organized desk in Abby’s office. With everything spread out before him, he made a list of things he had to deal with today, not the least of which was the branding.
With a fresh cup of coffee at his elbow, he used the phone in Abby’s office to handle the loan company, and he used his cell phone to keep up a running dialogue with Jake and Tanner at Cripple Creek. As crazy as it was, he could almost see the humor in it. It was the kind of situation a phone company would have snapped up for a TV commercial—a rancher directing the spring branding operation on one phone, while dealing with a financial institution in a different country on another.
And between specific instructions on the select group of calves he wanted left as bulls, he used Abby’s fax machine to fax his bank in Bolton his signature, authorizing his accounts manager to transfer the required funds to the loan company in New York. In less than an hour and a half, he had everything organized and settled. He figured with two phones and a fax, a person could darned near move mountains.
It was just before ten when Abby finally made an appearance. Conner was sitting at the kitchen table, another cup of coffee by his elbow, reading the newspaper when she stumbled in. She looked like hell—and he could tell she was on the verge of panic. He didn’t give that panic a chance to gather momentum. Before she could say anything, he held up his hand to halt her. “Kids on the bus, fed, teeth brushed, faces washed, socks matched.” He gave her a lopsided smile. “So take a load off, Mother. There’s fresh coffee in the pot.”
Normally, she would have nailed him with some sharp snippy comment, but she just stood there staring at him, the most awful look in her eyes. Then she covered her face with her hands and simply fell apart. Feeling as if he had inadvertently broadsided her somehow, Conner launched himself
