Chapter 14
NOELLE
When I woke up . . . who knew when . . . my hips hurt like I’d been rolling across hard concrete, and my joints felt swollen and stiff. Opening my eyes required a Herculean effort. Goodness, I’d never felt so weak in my life.
Through the back of my mind pulsed hot, scary, and panicked thoughts. But I hadn’t quite connected with my brain enough to know what I was afraid of. Was there something I was supposed to do?
Yes, there was. But . . . what? I wouldn’t be much good here, because even as I tried to nudge my thoughts into cohesive lines, I slid ever-closer to sleep. My arms jerked, body twitched, eyes blew open.
Wait.
When my teeth gave a light tremor, I realized that the misery went deeper than sore hips and weak limbs.
I felt a depth of cold all the way through my muscles, like icicles radiating from the inside out.
Shivering, I tried to reach for another blanket, but felt several already piled on top of me.
Heat blazed from my cheeks. I had enough mind left to register that I was half-loopy with sickness, and remembered what I had forgotten.
My child.
With a surge of determination, I tried to shove the blankets off, but only managed to push them from my shoulders.
Cold air rushed in to attack like a swarm of tiny Ginsu knives, and I couldn’t fight my groan.
Another tremor kept me from pushing off the bed.
I could barely fight off the heavy blankets.
“Take it easy,” said a soothing voice. “There’s no rush to get out of bed, unless you’re wanting to shovel snow. There’s plenty of that coming down.”
Bleary-eyed, I peered through bloodshot eyes to see Cade enter the room. His cowboy boots didn’t announce him, like usual, nor did his tightly-fitted jeans swish together. He wore a pair of socks, loose sweats, a long-sleeve tee, and his hair had an adorable, tousled look on top.
Delicious.
Casual.
I was so delirious.
My eyes closed, which had to be the fever’s doing, because no healthy woman would end such a lovely sight. Did I imagine the note of concern in his gaze as he headed toward me? Probably. Right now, the world swirled.
For cripes sake, I had to resemble a troll. But I didn’t care. I just burrowed deeper beneath the blankets and requested death. I might have mumbled something—I couldn’t be quite sure—because his laugh rang out.
“Well, that might be a bit dramatic.”
“Lily?”
“Fine. She’s fine. Cody is holding her right now. Don’t panic. He’s pretty good with babies and he’s also terrified of her, so he won’t leave the couch. Your fever is up again. Here are some more fever-reducers. Chug some water, while you’re at it. Your body needs it.”
The wise suggestion sounded wonderful. My throat was a parched and broiling desert. But the reality was something else. He thought I had the power to hold a glass of water? I laughed. It may have sounded like a sob.
“C’mon,” he urged, peeling the covers back.
I squawked.
He laughed.
“I know, I know. You feel colder than death, and you’re hotter than a fire. But this will help, I promise.”
Somehow, I managed to take the pills without choking and drain the water, but he had to hold the glass. The moment I finished, he covered me up again, and I retreated to my safe cocoon.
The next thing I remembered, I blinked my eyes open to see an empty room, a general haze of lightness in the window that seemed to indicate falling snow, and I fell into the fever again.
My return to reality happened by degrees, and after snatches of sleep.
At first, I could sense my body without pain, and then a general awareness of noises that surrounded me. Was I in my room? Yes. No. Grandpa’s room, not mine. Or, wait! Grandpa died, and I was here. But the house wasn’t mine, because . . . Cade.
Right.
Cade.
An awareness of Lily surfaced next. I heard no screams, smelled no foul diapers. Cade reassured me that he cared for Lily, and based on the occasional noise from without, she seemed to have survived?
While those thoughts settled, the general darkness of the room at large came to my awareness next. Was it evening already? Had I slept all day?
I opened my eyes without difficulty. The pervasive weakness had flowed out, leaving a tensile strength. I wouldn’t be running laps anytime soon, but I didn’t feel as if moving the blanket would be a burden. The room was quite stuffy.
Tossing the blankets aside, I carefully swung my legs off the bed and pushed to sitting. My head spun for a short time. Eventually, I was able to stand and creep out of the bedroom. When I emerged, my heart almost stopped.
Cade sat on the couch, Lily tucked in his left arm.
He had a book propped open in his other hand and read quietly out loud.
It was a tattered, old thing, worn along the paper edges and little hairs sprouting from the tops and sides.
The pictures reminded me of something from the fifties, and it only took a few passing beats of hesitation for me to remember that book. Grandma’s favorite.
The rush of warmth and memory that flooded me as I heard Cade recite the words to Lily, who cooed and wiggled like a content bunny tucked in her favorite warren, sent a tingling sensation through me. The words that belonged to Grandma, spoken by Cade, to my daughter, worked a particular weakness.
I leaned against the wall, swallowed, and composed my still-a-bit-feverish head. I must have made a noise, because Cade stopped, looked up, and smiled.
“Hey. You alive?”
“Barely. How is she?”
“Happier.”
“Happier?”
He gave a little smile. I might have almost called it shy. “You weren’t the only one with a fever the past two days.”
There was a lot to comprehend in that statement. Only one with a fever and past two days registered with deep gongs. I gripped the first and most presently stressful one first.
“Lily had a fever?”
“Yep.” He stood up, holding her as easily as a quarterback cradled a football. As if he’d known and done this his whole life. He should be Lily’s parent, because he seemed so at ease. As if this massive life and all that it demanded came so easily to him.
With his chin, he motioned to a chair.
“Have a seat. I think she’s missed you.”
I seriously doubted that statement, but appreciated him for saying it. My legs were shaky and weak when I lowered, and I was grateful to sit. Maybe I wasn’t as ready for real life as I thought.
Cade’s jeans caught my attention, and his cowboy boots, as he lowered her into my lap.
I almost missed his casual pajamas, but cursed that thought immediately.
Nothing worked more in his favor than those jeans.
Arm crooked, I accepted sweet Lily with a smile.
Her eyes illuminated at the sound of my voice, and she curled toward me.
Cade’s deep chuckle rang through my blood, turning the edges to slush. The fever would return if he kept being so deliciously irresistible with my child.
“See? Told you. She missed you.”
My throat thickened. Truly, Lily had provided her own proof, and that meant . . . everything. In a situation that felt as if it couldn’t get any stranger, every little sign that proved I belonged here meant something.
Cade had left the book open to a page with a little girl chasing a tiny puppy, and her grandma staring on lovingly from the porch. It felt like a brush from heaven. A reminder that I came here for a reason, and Grandma’s meddling yet guiding hand was part of that.
“Thank you.” I lifted my eyes to his. “You took care of her so wonderfully for two days.” Barely able to believe it, I shook my head. “Two days.”
He had a warm tone. “She’s easy to love.”
So many questions occurred to me. What work did he have to give up to take care of us? How did Lily navigate the fevers? Did he guess her schedule? It was beyond impressive to me that he’d picked it up so readily, without a sign of panic.
Were some people truly naturals?
Swallowing, I asked, “Can I do anything to help you catch up? With ranch stuff, I mean. If you were caring for her so much, you must have gotten behind elsewhere.”
He pawed a hand through the air.
“No, we’re good. Cody and Wyatt are hired out here for a reason, and it’s winter. The days are slower, which is a good thing. We’re fine.”
“Well, thanks.”
Cade stood, set a hand on my shoulder. The touch was natural, not at all contrived.
“Just because you’re feeling better doesn’t mean you’re well. I’m happy to take the lead on Lily for the rest of the day and tomorrow if it helps.”
Tears welled up in my eyes, hot and stinging.
He didn’t remove his hand right away, and I never wanted him to.
Oh, this situation with Cade went deeper than I expected.
Ties had started to form. Tiny ribbons that braided us together with every spectacular and selfless act.
Cade did more than provide a place for me to land.
He cared for us.
And I would never forget that.
Although my energy had restored enough for me to putter around the kitchen that evening, Cade insisted I sit and snuggle Lily. He dumped canned soup into pots and reprimanded Cody and Wyatt when their arguments over ice fishing regulations grew too animated.
The soup was hot, the snow cozy, and the freezing air crisp as it flowed around outside. Fire crackled in the wood stove when I shuffled into the kitchen to feed Lily. We were met with two cowboys leaping to their feet to help us, and Cade sending a wary warning for me to sit down.
“I’ll get her bottle,” he said in a tone that brooked no opposition, so I joined the other two at the table.
Cody said as I approached, “Noelle, Lily is a real cute baby. I don’t know a lot of babies, but she’s got to be the most beautiful. I held her for a long time, and it wasn’t so bad.”
“You didn’t die?” I asked with a teasing smile.
He sobered.
“Thought I might, but we both survived.”
They continued to stand there. Feeling squeamish under their attentive stares, I hesitated before sitting down on the chair.
“Everything okay?”
“They can’t sit,” Cade called over his shoulder, “until you do.”
Wyatt sighed. “Cowboy Code.”
“I’m teaching them to be gentlemen,” Cade clarified, “not knuckleheads. That’s what the Cowboy Code is.”
Wyatt winked at me. Hiding my amusement, I sat down, and they followed suit. Lily fell into a trance watching a flickering candle on the table that emitted a candy-coated apple smell.
“We’re taking bets on how much money the house repairs will take.” Wyatt leaned back on the back legs of his chair. Cody put his foot on Wyatt’s chair handle and slammed it down. Wyatt glowered, but left all four on the ground.
“I’m guessing $200,000.”
Cody snorted. “No way!”
Wyatt shrugged. “Fine. $210,000.”
“You’re insane!”
“If you include our labor? It’ll be more than you think.”
“We’re not getting paid extra.”
“I’ll give you a Christmas present for your help,” Cade retorted, and Cody hooted.
“See! Told ya!”
Wyatt flipped Cade the bird, but he wasn’t discreet enough. Cade came up behind him and smacked the back of his head.
“We have a lady present,” he muttered. “Manners.”
Cade set a large pot on the table, and Cody and Wyatt scrambled out of their chairs to help. They assembled spoons and bowls while Cade reached for different cracker packages. The smell of soup had never hit me quite so powerfully. My stomach growled.
“Want me to hold her while you eat?” Cade asked.
“Thank you, but she can go in her bouncer for a bit. Marsha was going to send me a swing, but she’s probably forgotten to order it.”
Cade reached for Lily with an adorable smile.
“We know lots of people with babies,” Wyatt quickly said. “We’ll get you a swing, Miss Noelle.”
“Oh, you can—”
Predicting what I was about to say, Cade sent me a quelling stare.
“—call me Noelle,” I finished in a whisper.
“Miss Noelle,” Cade countered.
I mouthed, “Cowboy Code?”
He nodded.
This ranch had rather strict codes.
Grabbing a spoon, and hastening to dish my portion because the two boys looked as if they hadn’t eaten in days, I asked, “Do you really think it’ll be that much money to repair the house?”
Cade sent them another irritated glance, but he didn’t reprimand them.
I couldn’t decide if he took exception to the fact that they spoke about money in front of me, wielded wild guesses, or gave me something to worry about while sick.
Cade didn’t strike me as old-school strict, where women didn’t get to have eyes on the finances, but he did seem rather protective of me while I was down.
“I don’t know,” Cade said as he lowered into his seat, Lily between us. He elevated a toy for her to look at. “I’m starting to suspect that all of the exterior walls are built with doors, pole barn style.”
Wyatt said around a mouthful of soup, “You live in a barn, Noelle.”
Cade confirmed with a grunt.
My mind spun with residual fever, the delicious, salty soup, and the idea that this house held secrets.
Big ones. A massive money pit, too. The most dominant feeling, amidst all of these other ones, was heady and massive relief.
This place was a bigger mess than even Marsha had comprehended—and I had almost inherited the job of fixing it.
If it were willed to my family, I could have been living here alone, with skunks in walls made out of doors and freezing pipes and uninsulated walls.
Cade had done me one of the biggest favors of my whole life, and I hadn’t realized it until now.
It made me want to laugh and laugh.
I thought I could tough it out here with a newborn?
Was I insane?
I kept these thoughts to myself as I ate, thanking Cade for the soup, chuckling when Wyatt and Cody argued over who Lily smiled at first. My attempts to not stare at Cade and the way his throat worked, or how he fought to hide a smile when Wyatt and Cody’s antics escalated, failed. They failed drastically, in fact.
Cade’s eyes met mine. With a lopsided smile, he reached a hand across the table, set it on top of mine, and squeezed.
My fingers curled into his, like they belonged.