Chapter 9
CADE
My list populated with greater intensity—and issues—than I expected. I held Lily in one arm and paced around the kitchen, mentally noting repairs.
Noelle worked at her own list using an app on her phone. Huh. Never thought about taking notes on my phone. I didn’t mind email or text, but notes? Handy. I could take the info everywhere.
Maybe I needed to bring myself—and the house—up to date.
“Let’s compare notes and review one room at a time, starting with the dining room.
” Noelle’s lips puckered as she considered her own list. “There’s general maintenance around windows, carpet replacement, patching walls, painting.
Those cosmetics are pretty easy.” She eyed the window, then the ceiling.
“Though I’d like to suggest we replace the light fixtures. ”
“Please,” I mumbled, glowering at an ancient fixture that attempted to look like a chandelier, but just appeared cheap.
“Hallway?”
She turned, eyeing each crevice, as she moseyed toward the bathroom, where I already knew we’d list a dozen major issues.
Heating, for one. There was no furnace piping into the room, so the pipes often froze in the winter.
Fixing that would require a major overhaul.
Noelle tapped away on her phone, adding each problem that I mentioned.
While I waited for her to finish, a question slipped out.
“Did you want to be a mother?”
The question came out awkwardly, like I choked on the words. Considering that I hadn’t meant to ask the question, I couldn’t believe it slipped out. To my great relief, a brief smile appeared on her face.
“Yes, but no?”
I grunted and side-stepped into the bathroom, attempting to recover some grace. “I ask because you seem like such a natural.” My eyes drifted down to Lily, who seemed content while I held her. “It seems easy for you.”
She laughed, a delightful sound I’d like to hear again. Thankfully, old sink fixtures, chipped tile along a tub, and a half-cracked mirror kept me from gawking at her. Noelle’s focus fixated on project to project, carefully cataloging them, so she didn’t notice me trying not to stare.
“Thank you, but I have no idea what I’m doing as a mom. I’m just . . . trying not to mess this up too badly.”
“I see nothing but perfection.”
After I pointed out a big issue—the toilet was in full view of the giant window that looked on the back porch, making it impossible to have any privacy with the blinds up—she said, “I never expected to raise my sister’s daughter, if that’s what you’re asking.”
That she picked up the conversation thread at all felt like a win. I handled my secondary shock over raising my sister’s daughter. She mentioned it briefly before, but I hadn’t given it much thought. Around here, family was anyone who needed support, not blood ties.
I grasped the opportunity to learn more. “That’s not quite what I was asking,” I said, inspecting a loose mirror on the wall.
Her brow lifted. “You were asking something else?”
“Yes.”
Lips quirked with amusement, she inquired, “What are you trying to ask, Cade?”
“If you wanted kids. A family. How they come to you doesn’t really matter, as much as if you want them or like the work. I’m just curious,” I tacked on, and flipped open a cupboard. Indigestion meds and half-used tubes of toothpaste filled the interior. We’d need to clean all of this out.
“Oh. I suppose that is a different question.” Noelle appeared thoughtful. “If I had met someone worth marrying and having children with? Yes. I think kids would be part of my life.”
Now that was definitely different.
And good to hear.
The list of repairs for the bathroom populated her screen.
We ducked into the master bedroom, which was twice the size of the other rooms, and strangely rectangular, with a door to the porch. Several windows kept the room light, despite Morgan’s junk accumulating in every possible corner.
“What about you?” she asked.
“Have I ever wanted to be a mother?”
She laughed again, and I thrilled to it. “Sure, Cade. Have you ever wanted to be a mother?”
“Couldn’t pay me,” I retorted. “Women tend to do and carry all the hard child-rearing stuff, and we men tag along with your good ideas and hope to come up with something intelligent in the meantime. But if you’re asking whether I want children, I’d say yes.
Absolutely. Always. Big family for me, however it happens. ”
She didn’t reply for so long that I thought she may not have heard, so I knocked unnecessarily on a few walls in the closet, attempting to hear what they sounded like. To my deep concern, the exterior walls sounded awfully hollow.
“How big of a family?” she asked, and I couldn’t believe she kept the thread.
I flashed her a quick smile while Lily and I extricated from the closet, lest this conversation get too serious. We were supposed to be diving into the depths of the house, not our intrinsic motivations.
Though she was far more interesting.
“I don’t have an exact number on how many. I just . . . some. Whatever is good. Growing up, it was just me and Cora, and I always wanted more siblings. Busy house, lots of food, games. You know? The good life.”
“White picket fences?”
“Too much work. Someone’s gotta paint them, right? And that’s a lot of lumber. Nah, a ranch is better. Wild places, open spaces. Let the rugrats run their energy out, then they’re too tired for trouble.”
Lily let out a little screech that drew my attention, and a twisted expression crossed her lips. A smile, I thought, though it vanished as quickly. Her tiny hands, little fists, small ears, were such a fascinating distraction.
How could her fingers be so little?
Yet have such a fierce grip?
“You seem very practical, Cade.”
“You don’t work a ranch without a hearty dose of practicality. And this room will need practicality.”
For the next couple of minutes, we swapped improvements for the bedroom, and added to her list. I paused at the door.
“Anything else in here?”
She shook her head, expression unreadable, as we moved through the first and second guest bedrooms. Our conversation stayed within the bounds of house improvement.
With every tap of her thumbs, the list elongated.
Daunting.
Tragic, almost.
Necessity had kept the kitchen the most up-to-date and manageable room.
Morgan had to replace the oven a few years ago, but he grabbed a used replacement that didn’t have much more life left than his old one.
He hadn’t eaten much, and the boys and I ate out of our place in the barn, so most of the cupboards were empty.
I’d repaired some sink issues and flooring last summer.
The depths of the wild basement, where Morgan’s penchant for hoarding gained full mastery, is where overwhelm finally appeared on Noelle’s expression. We surveyed the dank living room in silence, where only a single light bulb hung from a wire dangling from the center of the ceiling.
She tucked her phone into her pocket, as if the project was too far gone to take notes on, and sighed. “I . . . think this will take a bit, don’t you?”
I nodded.
“Well . . . let me run to the bathroom upstairs, then we can tackle what’s needed in the basement.”
Noelle pranced lightly up the stairs, swinging her left arm to the side in a stretch as she went. Clearly, she felt no qualms leaving the baby alone with me. I liked that.
A lot.
Holding Lily without a second of hesitation from Noelle felt like progress when I didn’t know I wanted progress. A woman wouldn’t leave her baby girl with a man unless she trusted him, right? That felt good. And so did holding Lily.
Such a petite child.
After I gently repositioned her into my other arm, I began a slow walk. Lily kept her eyes on me. They were wide, constant, moving. Hands wiggled, feet kicked. Her thumb found her mouth and her eyes widened. When I chuckled, she startled, and her stare expanded.
“You and I are going to get used to each other pretty fast, I think, little one.”
She yawned and looked away.
While waiting, and enjoying the weight of her in my arms, I perused the bricked fireplace, stained with soot. The old chimney would require repairs before we could use it again. Wyatt found a kit that we used to clean the chimney last year, which would save us a couple hundred dollars.
Amidst all this doing was the paying. We could make whatever list we wanted, but it all came down to affordability and time.
Noelle returned, curiosity in her raised brow.
“She didn’t cry?”
“Not a peep. If you want to keep taking notes, we’re doing just fine.”
She grinned softly. “Thank you. It’s . . . it’s nice to have my hands free. I love being near her, but sometimes my arms ache.”
We began to sort through each room and closet.
Her overwhelm arose in pieces and snatches, but passed quickly.
The toilet didn’t have water in it—who knows how long since it had been functional—and the sink had a crack down the middle.
Old cobwebs draped the walls like fabric. The closets brimmed full.
Morgan stuffed his wife’s belongings away into all sorts of nooks and crannies down here. Noelle would have to clean it out, and I was glad to transfer the responsibility to her. I didn’t have to impose on the family to ask if they wanted keepsakes, and I wouldn’t have to deal with Marsha, either.
Thank God for small miracles.
Marsha was nice enough, but her drama queen tendencies made me, Cody, and Wyatt scatter when she visited. Morgan hadn’t been able to handle her for more than a few hours before snapping at her, hurting her feelings, and starting the drama cycle all over again.
Lily fussed as we wrapped up listing the work needed in the unfinished and slightly scary basement.
“It’s Lily’s bottle and bedtime,” Noelle said, poorly hiding a yawn.
She opened her arms, and I passed Lily over.
Holding a child was a stabilizing thing, especially one so young.
Noelle smiled as she accepted her, pressing a kiss to Lily’s nose.
Her little wail heightened, and I couldn’t help but laugh. It sounded so fake.
“You get her dinner,” I said, “and I’ll go upstairs and stoke the fire.”
“Oh.” She blinked twice and said, “Thank you. That’s . . . very kind.”
What sort of men have you been around? I wanted to ask. Every task I completed startled her, as if she’d never met a man who could use his hands. She stumbled over my willingness to hold a baby and see to a fire?
I had some work to do.
“Seems like a fair split,” I reasoned, stretching my arms overhead. “You feed Lily, I keep the house warm.”
She accepted my lighthearted response with a smile and started up the stairs. I flicked off the lights, cast a long glance around, and started after her. My immediate draw to Noelle had been rapidly gaining steam since we merged into the same house, and now a whole new level of interest opened up.
Clearly, she’d never known a cowboy.
Time to show her what real masculinity looked like: holding a baby, maintaining a fire, and a willingness to do work alongside her.