Courting the Cowboy

by Carolyne Aarsen

  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 fel
t 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 ot
her 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.