need to stay away from Miss Langton’s house,” Cord said, frustrated at the harsh tone that edged his voice.
Cord’s own heart was still thundering in his chest at the memory of that huge dog straddling his son. Ollie must have sensed his fear because as soon as he picked up the little guy again, Ollie cried even louder.
Trouble was, his heart was pounding for another reason that he was loathe to acknowledge. Though he had heard about Ella from his grandfather, he had imagined someone a whole lot different. Someone artsy looking—and older.
Not a young woman with large, expressive brown eyes and auburn hair that seemed to glow.
He knew he’d been a jerk. Seeing her had created a confusing mix of emotions he knew he couldn’t indulge in. It was easier to make it sound like he was more worried about the dog than her.
He brushed aside the clothes his kids had draped over the couch and sat down. Cuddling his sobbing son, the reality of his situation drowned out any thoughts he might have of their attractive neighbor.
Adana had called at the worst possible time. Cord was hassling with the mayor, trying to get the wording of their grant application right. His uncle George was being difficult and wrangling with Helen, the group’s secretary, who was trying not to snap back at either of them. The meeting was falling apart and he could see the entire project going south.
And that couldn’t happen.
After Adana’s call he had tried to get hold of his father, but Boyce wasn’t answering his cell phone. Or he had left it behind, as he was prone to do. So Cord cut the stressful meeting short and hurried home, only to end up worrying about their new neighbor’s dog and how Ella had reacted to Paul’s gesture of friendship.
And 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
