Chapter 9
The next morning, Ella woke to muffled grunts. She slitted her eyes open. Cody sat on the floor, rubbing his neck. Guilt sliced through her as he craned his neck this way and that. The man shouldn’t be sleeping on a pile of blankets in the middle of winter. In his own home. Because of her.
She stifled a sigh. How could she continue to put him through such misery? She’d seen the way he stretched his neck when he thought she wasn’t looking. He deserved the comfort of his own bed. But was she brave enough to invite him there?
Cody got to his feet. She let her eyes fall shut, contemplating her dilemma. Minutes later, Cody had a fire blazing. Ella welcomed the warmth. She stretched and opened her eyes.
And promptly shut them again, trying and failing to erase the image of her shirtless husband from her mind. Her cheeks flamed. It looked as though ranch life kept him physically fit.
His footsteps neared the bed. “Darlin’, I know you’re awake. You’re redder than a sunburnt cowboy.”
Being a redhead had its drawbacks. She peeked up at him through her eyelashes, relieved to see that he now wore a shirt. “Sorry,” she squeaked. “I didn’t know you were dressing.”
His hands rested on his hips. “No harm done. How’s your hand?”
She blinked, trying to keep up with the abrupt change in subject. “It stings a little but is fine otherwise.”
“Good.” He looped his suspenders over his shoulders. “I thought I’d come back early today. Take you and the kids shopping in town.”
Ella pushed herself up. “What?”
“You need practical clothing. The kids are outgrowing what they have. We’ll visit the seamstress to get that taken care of.”
“But…aren’t you strapped for money?”
“Not so badly I can’t provide for my family.”
The matter-of-fact way he said the words told her this wasn’t a snap decision. She scooted back against the headboard. “All right.”
Cody shifted from foot to foot. “Well, then…I’ll get some breakfast going.”
“I can do that.” She pushed back the covers.
He put a restraining hand on her shoulder. “I’ve got it, Ella.”
Something sparked in her chest. She stared up at him, caught in the brilliance of his eyes.
Cody blinked, then blinked again. He took a step back, letting his hand drop from her shoulder. “See you downstairs.”
Ella chewed her bottom lip. The warmth from his hand lingered on her skin long after he walked out the door. She slipped out of bed and readied herself for the day. As soon as she finished tying her hair back, Addie babbled from the other room. Ella headed there.
In her crib, the little girl sat playing with her toes.
When she saw Ella, she clambered to her feet and held up her arms. Ella’s heart surged with love for her new daughter.
She lifted Addie and cooed. “Oh, sweetie, you need a clean diaper, don’t you?
” Ella kept her voice low so she wouldn’t wake the boys while she chatted and changed the baby’s diaper.
Isaiah and Jonah slept through it all. With Addie on her hip, Ella eased over to Isaiah and touched his forehead for fever, relieved to find it cool.
She ran a hand over his hair, then did the same for Jonah.
Tapping Addie’s nose, she headed for the door. “Should we go see Uncle Cody?”
By the time she made it downstairs, the fires Cody had built had warmed the house. He turned when she entered the kitchen. His gaze landed on Addie. A smile touched his lip, his eyes softening before he turned them toward Ella. “The boys still asleep?”
“Peacefully.”
“Good.” He pointed to a bowl on the table. “Eat up. It’s not much, but it’s warming. I’ll get a bottle ready for Addie.”
Ella lowered herself into a chair. The steaming bowl of oatmeal smelled of brown sugar and cinnamon. She settled Addie on her lap before taking a bite. The oats had a pleasant, chewy texture, and it tasted good. By the time Cody brought the bottle over, Ella had nearly finished the bowl.
Her husband chuckled. “You have quite an appetite.”
She ducked her head and accepted the bottle, distracting herself by feeding the baby. No one in Boston dared comment on a woman’s eating habits. To hear Cody mention it in a nonchalant way confused her.
His hand came to rest on her shoulder. “That’s a good thing out here, Ella. I didn’t mean any disrespect.”
She glanced up. Compassion radiated from his eyes. “I believe you. It might take me a little time to adjust to the forthright manner of speech in the west.”
“You’ll get there.” He cleared his throat, gruffness finding his voice again. “I’ve got to be going. See you later.” Snatching his hat, he disappeared out the door.
Ella stared after him. How could he be soft one moment and rough the next?
Perhaps the gruffness was a front, a way to protect himself from further hurt.
Though she had to admit that he didn’t frighten her.
For that, she was thankful. Howard had always frightened her.
Cody exuded a sense of safety. A bear he might be, but Cassie was right—he was more softy than grizzly.
She looked down at Addie. “I suppose if he took the three of you in, he must have a good heart. He does, doesn’t he?”
The baby gazed up at her as she drank the bottle.
No sooner had she finished than Ella heard the boys moving around upstairs.
She stood and placed Addie’s bottle in the sink.
The pot of oatmeal sat warm on the stove, ready for the boys.
Had Cody even taken the time to eat? If he had, he must have eaten even faster than her.
A glance in the sink showed that he had indeed eaten his own portion of oatmeal.
Footsteps pattered down the stairs. Ella turned as Isaiah and Jonah entered the kitchen, rubbing their eyes. Isaiah stopped cold when he saw her. “What’re you still doin’ here?”
That tone didn’t sound promising. But much like Cody’s gruffness, Isaiah’s probably hid a world of hurt. Shifting Addie to her hip, Ella replied in an even tone. “I live here.” She moved to the pot. “Your Uncle Cody made oatmeal for breakfast. Sit at the table and I’ll fix you a bowl.”
Jonah moved readily to his chair.
Isaiah stood dumbstruck before an apprehensive look entered his eyes. “It ain’t yucky like the tea, is it?”
Ella spooned some oatmeal into the bowls. She sprinkled extra sugar over the top for good measure. “Not at all.” She set the bowls in front of the boys, then poured a bit of cream in each one. Her hand stung from the activity, but she tried to ignore the pain.
Jonah tucked into his meal. Isaiah stared at the bowl.
He poked at the oatmeal with his spoon. Ella turned her attention to Addie.
Her time educating girls in Boston had taught her that sometimes ignoring rather than engaging a child led to the desired result.
She glanced over her shoulder to see Isaiah eating his food.
A smile tugged at her lips. Thank God for small victories.
Cutting work short felt strange, but Cody knew his ranch hands could carry on in his temporary absence. Now, as he stood in Mrs. Greyson’s seamstress shop, he sent up a prayer of gratitude for workers he could trust.
Ella walked quietly between rows of fabric with the children in tow. She touched various kinds of material. Cody trailed behind them, watching her curiously. How would she determine which cut of cloth to use?
Ella pointed to several bolts. Each looked practical and comfortable. She focused on him. “You need new clothes too.”
“I’m fine.”
She eyed his pants. “That fabric is nearly worn through. It won’t keep you warm when it snows.”
Mrs. Greyson nodded her approval, lopsided bun swinging with the motion. “Excellent observation, Mrs. Brooks.”
Cody shot the woman an annoyed look, which she ignored.
Ella placed a hand on his arm. “You can let others take care of you, too, Cody. This is a partnership, remember?”
The quiet words, for his ears only, softened the fight inside him. He covered her fingers with his own. “I’ll try to keep that in mind.”
Her smile warmed his stomach. When her hand dropped back to her side, he missed the touch. Cody’s brow furrowed. What kind of reaction was that?
Ella voice dropped to a whisper. “Can you afford it?”
He’d saved money for clothes over the years. It was a fund he didn’t touch often. “Yeah.”
She smiled, turning to the seamstress. “This one for my husband.” Ella pointed to a thick brown material. Cody peered over her shoulder, impressed. As Mrs. Greyson bundled up the fabric, he looked at his wife. “You made your decisions quickly. How’d you do that?”
A half smile formed on her lips. “I lived in Boston. Fashion is something I know well.”
Isaiah tugged at Cody’s jacket. “Can we go?” The whine in his voice, coupled with the child rubbing his eyes, told Cody the boy was tired.
“Almost. We just need to tell Mrs. Greyson what outfits to make.” He turned to Ella. “Are you satisfied with your choices?”
“Yes. Thank you.”
He eyed the fabric Mrs. Greyson gathered for Ella.
His wife had chosen practical—and inexpensive—material in solid colors—navy blue, dark green, and brown.
While they would look pretty on her, a sudden impulse came over him.
With Ella’s attention distracted by the children, he stopped beside Mrs. Greyson.
“Please add the green and flowered light blue fabrics for my wife.”
“Of course.” She leaned forward, a wide grin on her face. “It seems you’re a quick study in the secret to being a good husband.”
Cody suppressed a snort. Doubtful. He just had a feeling Ella would appreciate the prettier colors, much as Cassie did.
Their business was soon finished, and the remainder of the day at home passed without incident. Once the children were in bed for the night, Ella yawned. “May I turn in early?”
Cody looked up from stoking the parlor fire. “You don’t need to ask permission. If you’re tired, go to bed. I want you to feel at home here.”
A blush stained her cheeks, and her gaze fell to the floor. “I’m sorry.”