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 rules with their new tenant, “but I have some concerns with my children being around him, so I would have to ask if you could tie him up if he’s outside.”
Ella lifted her chin in a defensive gesture. “Boyce assured me that the children wouldn’t come—” She stopped there, biting her lip as she looked down at Suzy and Paul who were still stroking her dog’s head.
He guessed that his dad told her the kids wouldn’t get in her way and he figured from her reaction to Paul, Suzy and Ollie that she didn’t like kids.
Which was probably a good thing. She was far too attractive and, of late, he’d been getting lonely. His friend Owen had been pushing him to date. Put himself out there. But he had his children to think of and he wasn’t doing anything to jeopardize their well-being.
“I understand what you’re saying,” he said, a cool note entering his voice.
Though in spite of that he glanced her way again, flustered to see her doing the same.
He shook off his reaction and called out to the kids just as an old, rusty pickup came down the drive.
“It’s Grandpa,” Suzy and Paul called out, their gnat-like attention spans turning to his father. They ran to the truck as he got out, holding a bag.
“What did you get for us, Grandpa?” they asked, grabbing his hands and dancing alongside him as he limped toward Cord.
“What do you think I got, Suzy Q?” he asked, tweaking Suzy’s nose and tapping Paul on the cowlick that Cord could never get under control.
“Candy. Candy,” they both chanted.
Boyce glanced over at Cord with an apologetic shrug, then walked over to Ella, holding out one gnarled hand.
“Good to see you again, Miss Langton,” he said in his best aw-shucks manner.
In his heyday Boyce Walsh was a rodeo bull rider who still bore the scars and limp of a bad wreck that ended his career. Boyce and his brother, George, inherited the ranch from their father who, along with his brothers, had in turn inherited it from their father. Both Boyce and George had expanded their ranches, as had their cousins. Walshes had lived in Cedar Ridge even before the town was officially established.
Cord’s brother, Morgan, and sister, Amber, had both moved away, but Cord had stayed to help his father work the ranch, living the life he’d always wanted, carrying on the Walsh family tradition.
“Hope you’re getting settled in?” his father asked Ella, still holding her hand.
“A few things to unpack but otherwise it’s coming.” She gave his father a wide smile that lit up her face and Cord could see that Ella had, like so many others, been taken in by his father’s effortless charm.
And to his own disappointment, the change in her voice and manner created an unwelcome quiver of attraction in him.
“Kids not bothering you too much, I hope?” he asked, glancing down at Suzy and Paul. “I warned them to leave you alone.”
“No. It’s fine,” Ella said, her voice reverting to the cool tone he had heard before that told him it wasn’t.
Boyce’s frown showed his father sensed it as well but instead he looked at Cord, then at Ollie who had his head tipped up to catch the last few drops in his bottle. “So where’s Adana?”
“She quit. Dropped the kids off at Ella’s,” Cord said, shooting a glance at Ella as if to let her know that he had nothing to do with his ex-nanny’s irresponsibility. “Called me in the middle of a meeting to let me know.”
“That little minx,” Boyce said, shaking his head in disgust. “I thought she might not be the best one to hire.”
Cord said nothing to that seeing as Adana had been hired on his father’s recommendation. She was the granddaughter of one of his coffee buddies at the Brand and Grill in Cedar Ridge.
“I was on my way to get potatoes,” Cord said, moving Ollie to his other arm and taking a step away. “For supper.”
Boyce looked over at Ella, his face brightening. “Would you like to join us?” he asked and Cord stifled a groan. His father could read cattle like no one he knew but was illiterate when it came to people.
He saw Ella visibly recoil and how her full lips grew tight. Her jaw clenched as she glanced at Ollie who was finally happy, swinging his baby bottle around by the nipple.
“I’m sorry. I already ate,” she said, her voice breathless as her eyes skimmed Cord’s, then looked away.
“Adana
