Come Home, Cowboy. Cathy Mcdavid
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The boy, Nathan, drank, never taking his eyes off Cara. She couldn’t meet his stare and instead gazed down at Kimberly, the baby’s face that of an angel.
Suddenly, Cara’s hand shook. Afraid she might drop the carrier, she set it down on the floor.
“Are you okay?” Josh asked.
She wasn’t sure and stumbled toward the couch. The cushions dipped as she sat. She’d forgotten how old and uncomfortable the couch was. Josh would probably have trouble sleeping on the pullout bed. She had.
“I haven’t been around little children much...lately.” She wrung her hands nervously. Why wasn’t she leaving?
Josh sat on the other end of the couch, balancing Nathan on his lap. “We’ll try to keep out of your way as much as possible.”
“You don’t have to do that.” It was her problem to handle, not his.
Nathan didn’t want to sit and scrambled off Josh’s lap. He walked over to his sleeping sister and set his sippy cup in the carrier at her feet.
That made no sense. Then again, he wasn’t three years old yet.
“Daddy, I hungry.”
“The kid eats like nothing I’ve ever seen.” Josh got off the couch and headed to the kitchen. “Raquel put some hot dogs in the fridge.”
“Hot dogs!” Nathan tumbled excitedly into the kitchen.
The boy grabbed the counter edge as Josh removed a perfectly good hot dog from the package, arranged it on a paper plate and put it in the microwave. Ninety seconds later, the pair of them stared dejectedly at a deformed hot dog.
“I guess I messed that up.” Josh shot the microwave a dirty look as if it were responsible.
Nathan started to cry.
Cara pushed to her feet, fully intending to leave. Except, she didn’t. Going into the kitchen, she automatically patted Nathan on the head before realizing her mistake. His hair was the texture of silk.
“Hot dogs take thirty seconds to heat,” she said, examining her hand before brushing it on her jeans.
Josh placed a second one on the paper plate. “I have a lot to learn.” He pressed buttons on the microwave. This time, when the buzzer sounded, the hot dog looked edible. He cut it into small pieces and then carried the plate to the table.
“Did you bring a booster seat?” Cara assured herself that the baby slept peacefully in her carrier on the floor. It was as good a place as any.
Josh shook his head. “I don’t know. My in-laws and Trista did most of the packing.”
“Daddy. Hungry!” Nathan complained impatiently.
“Wait.” Cara hurried to the hall closet. The extra pillows were there, just like before. Back at the table, she set the pillows on a chair, then instructed Nathan, “Sit here.”
He eagerly clambered into the chair, situated himself and began stuffing pieces of hot dog into his mouth.
Satisfied, she started for the door. “I’ll leave you to your dinner.”
“Before you go.” Josh intercepted her. “I have a deal to propose.”
Her suspicions flared. This must be about the horses. “What kind of deal?”
“Clearly, I need help with my kids.”
“I’m sure you’ll do fine.”
He smiled. “I could use a teacher. I was thinking of you.”
“No.” She jerked back so quickly, she bumped into the door.
“Hear me out first.” Josh continued speaking, ignorant of, or indifferent to, her distress. “You show me the ropes, and I’ll help you with the sanctuary. Anything you need. And I won’t pressure you to give up the land.”
Did he not realize how hard this would be for her?
She glanced at Nathan, smashing the last bite of hot dog into his plate rather than eating it. Kimberly had started stirring and would whimper any second. Most babies her age cried when they woke from a nap.
Cara wanted to run and not stop until she was a thousand miles away. She also wanted to hold Kimberly. The two longings waged a war inside her. Eventually, one prevailed.
Going to the carrier, she undid the straps and lifted the baby into her arms. A splendid feeling washed over her. Cara cradled the baby close as tears filled her eyes. She wondered if they were tears of sorrow or joy.
“All right,” she murmured and gently rocked the baby. “We have a deal.”
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