Chapter 7
Chapter Seven
Ichabod figured Ellis had put him off about the cattle that had shown up on their front doorstep, essentially, but he couldn’t bring himself to mind.
It seemed like before he could even blink the cows had been moved from the pasture usually reserved for horses at the front of the yard and taken to a larger paddock where they had room to wander.
Ellis had fed them and filled a stock tank for them, and then moved the bull out of the horse ring, too, which was what Ichabod had wanted most.
That beast, when it looked at them, was clearly gauging whether or not it should take your ass off this earth, and he didn’t want his kids to be dealing with that.
Especially Michael, who wasn’t particularly respectful of everybody’s personal space, or Zane who was pretty good at most of the work around the ranch, but who didn’t want to get up close and personal with anything resembling a horse or a cow.
Ichabod also decided that he was going to let it slide because with Ellis here and the kids helping, he was getting actual work done.
He’d finished his two major commissions this past week, and Ellis had rewired the shed for him so that his kiln wouldn’t keep blowing breakers, which meant he’d been able to fire them before and after he glazed them.
That was huge, because he now had a check in hand for said vases, which was a lovely chunk of change and made him feel ten feet tall.
“You kids want to run into town and go to the bank with me?” he asked all the kids, who had finished their chores for the afternoon and were lying around on the living room floor together playing some sort of board game.
He was damn proud of Zane because he was holding Chrissy on his lap and helping her play with a patience he didn’t think he’d seen in at least two years.
He and Zane were still tying it up, but not near as often. It was kind of great.
“Can I go get a coffee while you do your thing at the bank?” Zane asked.
“Of course you can. We’ll bank, you do that, then we’ll all meet up and go to dinner. How does that sound?” See him. See him try to be a fair and just dad.
“Ooooh, what are we gonna have?” Allie asked.
“Well, I figure we’ve tried pizza, and we’ve had burgers. How do you guys feel about Mexican food?”
Zane practically vibrated. “Oh my God, I would love some Mexican food. I miss it. Denver had some good places.”
“I know. I suck at it.” Mexican was one of the few foods he didn’t make well, and they’d had this little Mexican restaurant maybe three blocks away from their house in Denver where they’d gone for tacos all the damn time. “So Mexican food it is.”
“Cool. Then maybe I could stay with the other kids while you’re in the bank and take them to the toy store next door?” Zane said it with elaborate casualness.
His eyebrows flew up, and he tried not to let his amazement show otherwise, but it was tough. That offer shocked the living hell out of him.
Ichabod nodded. “That sounds great, kiddo. I would appreciate that.”
Michael bounced. “Should we ask Mr. Ellis to go with us?”
“Hmm. Let’s put it to a vote.” He saw Zane wrinkle his nose, so he made it democratic. He didn’t think Zane disliked the man or anything, but Ellis wasn’t afraid to tell Zane when he was going about a chore in the wrong way or making it harder for himself. That had to rankle a little bit.
Ellis wasn’t quite competition in Zane’s eyes, but…
“I want him to go.” Allie raised her hand.
“Me too,” Michael said.
Chrissy squealed, and Zane rolled his eyes. “Seriously, guys? You’re such suck-ups.”
“What’s a suck-up?” Allie asked, and Michael shot Zane an evil look.
“Yeah, Zane. What’s—”
Ichabod met Zane’s eyes. That coffee shop visit was on the line here.
“Oh, fine. Let’s ask Mr. Ellis, okay?”
“Yep, I think that’s grand.” Butter wouldn’t melt in his mouth. “Let’s do it. Michael, do you want to go find him and ask? I think he’s working close in today and not out at the fences.”
“Uh-huh. I’ll be right back.” Michael ran to the back door and stomped into his wellies before heading outside.
He could hear Mavis bark in a happy way, too—or at least that was what Ellis told him was Mavis’s happy tone— before Michael’s footsteps couldn’t be heard anymore.
He had to admit that big old dog kept an eye on the kids really well.
The wellies had been a gift from Ellis, who’d bought all the kids and him a pair of what he called “muck boots”.
Apparently, flip-flops were a bad idea out in the yard full of cow and horse excrement.
“Come on, let’s get you girls in real clothes.” Somehow his oldest daughter was in a bathing suit and his younger one was wearing a T-shirt and a pair of rumba panties.
Zane snorted. “I’m gonna go get my wallet. I’ll be back.”
“Cool. Thanks, kiddo. I appreciate that you’re being so chill about everything.”
Zane gave him a positively Gallic shrug. “Yep. Be back in a minute.”
Ichabod got the girls to their shared bedroom and started finding clothes. “You wanna go get tacos, Miss Chrissy?”
She clapped and cheered. She didn’t care. This baby was purely easy. She loved going, she loved food, she loved her family. She knew no evil.
“I do. I want tacos,” Allie reminded him. “I want ones with no hot stuff.”
“Yes, I know you want ones with meat and cheese.”
“Matoes!” Chrissy hollered.
He grabbed her up, kissed her on her nose. “Yes, you want ones with tomatoes.” He chuckled and shook his head. He wasn’t sure how his littlest one was the world’s biggest tomato fiend, but she would eat them like they were apples. It was adorable.
He got everybody in T-shirts and shorts and wee bitty sandals. Then he ran a brush through Allie’s hair and tied it in a bow. He whispered sweet nothings over Chrissy’s hair because he didn’t want to have that fight today, and put a hat on her.
Sometimes a dad had to know when it was time to fight, and when it wasn’t.
“Dad!” Michael came thumping in like a herd of elephants. “Ellis says he can come. He’s just got to put on a not-sweaty shirt.”
“All right.” They had third row seats, used them all the time.
He got the girls settled with Michael and went to take off his holey shirt he used for work. He decided on his blue Cookie Monster is my Soul Mate T-shirt. It was clean, it didn’t have any holes, and he could still read everything it said on it, so he figured it was a win.
He absolutely did not change shirts because he wanted to impress his — the new cowboy.
The new cowboy, not his.
The.
Ellis had the whole hot cowboy thing down. Ichabod refused to stroke off to the thought of the fine man, because that was nasty, but he wasn’t responsible for his dreams, right?
Of course right.
He swore he could hear Chris laughing at him, but honestly? He was a widower. He wasn’t dead.
He knew he wasn’t dead because he was tired. He assumed that dead people got to rest. That’s what they said, rest in peace, right? Right.
He needed to remember to get the boys a couple of twenties at the bank. The little ones were happy with, “we’re going to go to the store because we got ten gold stars, so we can get a Barbie or a color book or a puzzle”.
But the boys were old enough they needed their own agency.
Well, that and if he gave Zane a color book, Zane might punch him in the nose.
He might even deserve it.
He hummed, making sure he had a relatively clean chin and a pair of jeans that weren’t covered in slip. Check. Okay. Time to go.
He headed out, amazed that his kids were all dressed, clean, and also ready. Ellis stood on the porch, and Mavis was asleep on her dog bed, clearly not expecting to come with them.
Fun.
“Y’all all set?” Ellis asked.
“Yep.” He was happy to leave the cows behind for a bit. But he was taking the cowboy with them.