Chapter 4
Chapter Four
S omething was wrong.
Something was definitely wrong.
Casey couldn’t quite put his finger on why, but he didn’t feel at all like himself. He felt grumpy and cranky. And Casey had never been grumpy and cranky in his life. Rome, yes. His daddy, most definitely. But Casey could always find a rainbow even on the rainiest of days.
But for the last couple days, there were no rainbows to be found. He felt . . . depressed. And nothing seemed to help. Not morning rides on his Appaloosa horse, Domino. Not hanging in the barn with the family goat, the dogs and cats, and the new litter of kittens. Not an extra helping of Cloe’s coffee cake at breakfast. Not herding cattle with Rome. Not even finishing the cradle he’d spent the last few months making.
In fact, placing the cradle in his niece’s room made him feel even more depressed.
There was something about seeing the cradle that made him feel . . . empty. Like his life was definitely missing a piece of the puzzle. Which was ridiculous. He didn’t want kids. He’d never wanted kids.
But if that were true, why did a huge lump form in his throat when Cloe gave the cradle a push and it slowly rocked back and forth?
“Oh, Casey.” Tears flooded her eyes as she pressed her hands to her chest. “It’s just perfect.”
Casey swallowed down the lump and gave his sister-in-law a hug. “Hey now, no tears. If Rome finds out I made you cry, he’ll kick my butt.”
She hugged him back before she stepped away with a stern look. “If he kicks your butt, I’ll kick his. No one messes with my little brother. Not even my beloved husband.” She studied him with eyes the exact shade of green that had been plaguing his thoughts for the last few days. “So you want to tell me what’s been going on with you?”
He started to play dumb, but then changed his mind. He wanted to figure out what was going on with him too and maybe Cloe could help.
“I don’t know. I just haven’t felt like myself lately.”
“Rome and I have noticed you’ve been a little out of sorts. Did something happen?”
The question immediately brought up images of Noelle straddling him. Yes, something had happened. Something he definitely couldn’t talk about with Noelle’s older sister. He didn’t even want to think about it. And yet, he couldn’t seem to think about anything else. Every time he turned around, Noelle’s green eyes flashed into his brain. Green eyes filled with sexual heat.
He mentally shook himself. No, he had to be mistaken. She had never been interested in him. Especially sexually.
Unfortunately, there was no mistaking that he’d been sexually interested in her. Even now, just the thought of her full-figured body pressed against him made him semi-erect. He quickly turned away from Cloe and pretended to be examining the cradle for flaws while he got his libido in check. His sister-in-law’s next question had him wondering if she could read minds.
“Have you met a girl?”
“No!” He whirled around. “Why would you ask that?”
She shrugged. “Developing feelings for someone can make you feel out of sorts. There’s not someone you’ve met recently that maybe you want to get more serious with?”
“You know I don’t do serious, Cloe.”
A soft smile lifted the corners of her mouth. “I know you don’t want to do serious, Casey. But sometimes love sneaks up on you when you least expect it.”
He laughed at just the thought of being in love with Noelle. “Believe me, it’s not love.” Lust maybe. But definitely not love.
Maybe that was the problem. With all the ranch work, weddings, and cradle making, he hadn’t had much leftover time for his own personal needs. He’d had a heavy make-out session with Sissy Haskins’s cousin at Hallie and Jace’s wedding . . . before Noelle had shown up and ruined things. But he hadn’t had sex in a while and that could make any man in his prime feel depressed and apt to get over stimulated. Even by a woman who hated him.
The revelation made Casey feel better.
He just needed to relieve some sexual tension and everything would go back to normal. Since tonight was the Wednesday before Thanksgiving, the biggest bar night of the year, Casey had an extremely good chance of doing just that.
“Where did you get the cradle?”
Casey turned to see his father standing in the doorway.
Sam Remington wasn’t big in stature. Both Casey and Rome were taller and broader shouldered. But that didn’t stop Sam from commanding any room he stepped into. Probably because he was like a dark cloud blocking out all the sunshine with his grumpy demeanor.
“Casey made it for the baby,” Cloe said. “Isn’t it perfect?”
Sam walked over and examined the cradle, running his hand over the pine Casey had painstakingly sanded. “It could use a coat of paint.”
Leave it to his father to find a flaw.
Cloe hooked her arm through Casey’s. “I don’t agree. I think the natural look is much prettier than paint. I’m just tickled pink with it and I know Baby Girl Remington will be too.” She leaned up and kissed Casey on the cheek. “Now I better go check on dinner. You’ll be here, won’t you, Case? It’s chicken potpie. Your favorite.”
“Everything you make is my favorite,” he said. “But I’m going to have to pass. I have plans to head to the Hellhole.”
She laughed. “Of course you do. I’ll be sure to save you one.” She headed for the door, but then stopped before she got there and pointed a finger between him and Sam. “I’m setting up a rule right now. No arguing in the baby’s room.”
It was a good rule. If anyone liked to argue, it was Casey and his father. Mainly because they both knew what buttons to push to piss each other off. This was proven as soon as Cloe left the room.
“The Hellhole?” Sam said. “Don’t you think you’re getting a little too old to go out carousing?”
The comment had Casey bristling, but he’d spent his life dealing with his daddy’s disapproval and had learned how to keep his anger to himself and a carefree smile on his face.
“Nope. You’re never too old to enjoy life. Something you seem to have forgotten.”
“Enjoying life is one thing. Acting like an irresponsible fool is something else. You’re twenty-four years old. It’s time you started acting like a man instead of a childish boy. I was running this ranch all by myself when I was no more than nineteen.”
Casey had heard these exact words so many times that they shouldn’t hold any power over him. But damned if they didn’t. That was how it worked when you only had the love of one parent. Even if you didn’t want it to, what they thought about you mattered.
It mattered too much.
“You need to stop running around being a cowboy Casanova and start thinking about settling down and starting a family,” Sam continued. “Which is why I invited Judge Matthews and his daughter, Melissa, over for dinner on Friday. Melissa just finished passing the bar. And a lawyer and a judge will make a perfect addition to this family.”
Casey wasn’t at all surprised. Sam had been dropping hints about him dating Melissa Matthews for months. He just hadn’t thought he’d take matters into his own hands. Of course, he should have known better. Patience wasn’t one of Sam’s virtues.
“So you’re arranging weddings now, Sam?” he said dryly. “A little archaic, isn’t it? Even for an arrogant control freak like you.”
Sam’s eyes darkened and Casey figured he was about to get his ass chewed out. But Sam must have remembered Cloe’s rule because he kept his voice even and his temper reined in.
“You need to watch it, Casey. I still run this ranch.”
“With Rome’s, Cloe’s, and my help. Without us, you couldn’t do it and you know it. So don’t try to bend me to your will. I’m a grown man. As long as I pull my weight, it’s none of your damn business what I do with my free time.”
“You live in this house by my grace. Don’t forget that.”
“I live here by Rome’s grace as well. He told me you signed over half the business when Cloe got pregnant.”
Sam’s eyes narrowed. “If you marry Melissa and get her pregnant, I’ll give you the other half to build your own house on. It’s time you had a home of your own.”
That hurt. Probably because it was true. He shouldn’t be living with his brother and father, especially now that Rome’s family was growing. He didn’t doubt Rome and Cloe would have more children, which wouldn’t leave room for a bachelor uncle.
“Everything okay in here?” Rome stepped into the room, no doubt sent by Cloe to make sure Sam and Casey were keeping things civil. But civility had never been Sam’s strong suit.
“Maybe you can talk some sense into your brother, Rome,” Sam said. “Lord knows I’ve never been able to.” He turned and walked out of the room.
Rome looked at Casey. “I guess you two got into it again. I swear y’all love to get under each other’s skin. What’s going on now?”
“He’s trying to marry me off to Melissa Matthews because he thinks a judge and lawyer in the family will come in handy.”
“Melissa Matthews? Didn’t you used to date her in college?”
“We went out a couple times, but that doesn’t mean I want to marry her. And don’t tell me you agree with Sam’s matchmaking.”
“I think Daddy’s the last person in the world who should be matchmaking.” Rome hesitated. “But that doesn’t mean I wouldn’t like to see you find someone to share your life with. Marrying Cloe is the best thing that ever happened to me. You can’t blame me for wanting the same for my little brother.”
“I’m not like you, Rome. You’ve always been levelheaded, dependable, and responsible. All traits of a good husband.” He glanced at the cradle. “And father. But we both know I got Mama’s unreliability and irresponsibility. I think she proved those aren’t good traits for a lasting relationship . . . or for a parent.”
Rome studied him. “You’re wrong, Casey. You might be a little more carefree than I am, but that doesn’t mean you aren’t responsible and dependable. I know I can always count on you when I need to. I think you’d make a great husband and father.” He hesitated. “You just need to stop running scared.”
“Running scared?”
He sighed. “I always thought Mama leaving hurt me more because I was old enough to remember her. But Cloe pointed out that just because you were too young to remember the time she spent here that doesn’t mean her desertion hurt you less. Or screwed you up less. Her leaving made me not trust love. While I was willing to marry to make Daddy happy, I never believed that true love existed until I married Cloe. With you, I think Mama’s leaving made you scared to commit to any woman—scared to love and not have that love returned.”
“It sounds like you and Cloe have been psychoanalyzing me.”
Rome shrugged. “We’re both just worried about you.”
“Well, there’s no need to worry. I’m not running scared. I just don’t want what you want, Rome. Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to shower and head out to the Hellhole to be the irresponsible younger brother I am.”
Rome placed a hand on his shoulder. “A younger brother I happen to love and just want the best for. If dating every woman in Wilder makes you happy, then I’ll keep my mouth shut. But you’re not heading out carousing until you’ve eaten dinner. Cloe made chicken potpie to thank you for the cradle and you’ll stay and eat every speck of it.”
Casey didn’t argue. He might not like taking orders from his daddy, but he’d never minded taking orders from his brother. That, and he wasn’t about to hurt Cloe’s feelings.
It turned out she hadn’t just made his favorite potpies. She’d also made one of his favorite desserts—a fudgy brownie with vanilla ice cream and chocolate syrup. Since she’d gone to all the trouble, he volunteered to do the dishes. By the time he was finished, it was well past nine o’clock and he still needed to shower and get ready.
Suddenly, driving all the way into town didn’t sound all that appealing.
Especially if things weren’t hopping at the Hellhole.
Pulling out his cellphone, he fired off a text to his friend, Robby, who loved to party as much as he did and would no doubt be at the bar tonight.
You at Hellhole? How are things looking?
Robby answered immediately. Just not with what Casey expected.
Why didn’t you tell me you were secretly fooling around with Noelle Holiday?
Casey’s eyes widened. Mrs. Stokes! He had thought the old woman wasn’t the type to gossip, but obviously he’d been wrong. He quickly replied.
You can’t believe townsfolk’s gossip. I’m not secretly fooling around with Noelle.
That’s not how it looked in the video.
Casey stared at the text for a moment before replying. You saw the video?
Robby’s reply arrived with a ping. Everyone has seen it. It’s all over social media. Y’all are the talk of the Hellhole. What the hell’s goin on?”
It was a good question.
He ignored Robby’s text and instead tapped the app store open on his phone. Unlike most people, he didn’t have social media accounts. He thought people posting every picture and video they took of their life was just plain stupid. Not to mention, they could be misinterpreted. Look at what had happened with Noelle’s live post.
Casey preferred his life to remain private.
But it looked like it wasn’t private now.
As soon as he had opened a social media account, he searched Noelle’s name. A long line of reposted posts from a variety of different people popped up. Every post was of the video Noelle said she’d taken down. With those posts were all kinds of hashtags, mostly #thecowboyandthebaker #allIwantforchristmasisacowboyhero #bakinguploveintheholidaykitchen
The last hashtag caught his attention and he quickly searched Holiday Kitchen . A profile picture of Noelle in a white chef’s hat popped up, along with all her posts. He scrolled through them, but didn’t find the video he was looking for. Obviously, she had taken it down. She couldn’t be blamed if people had reposted it. A lot of people. Hopefully, she had set them straight in her later posts.
He clicked on the most recent video and Noelle came to life. Her dark hair fell in soft wispy layers around her face, highlighting her wide green eyes and pouting lips—lips that, as usual, were painted a cherry red and moving a mile a minute.
“Hey, y’all! I promised you the best pumpkin pie recipe for your Thanksgiving feast and I’m here tonight to give it to you. Noelle’s Great Pumpkin Pie is going to knock your socks off and all of your Thanksgiving guests’ too. So let’s get started with the piecrust we made the other night.”
She adjusted the camera so it was focused on the marble countertop and the large disk of flour-coated dough. She started rolling the disk out. He knew she’d graduated from culinary school, but he’d never seen her bake before. It was mesmerizing. Using only the flats of her hands, she expertly rolled the long wooden pin. Her red-painted, close-cropped nails looked like pretty holly berries against the pale yellow piecrust. As she rolled she talked about everything from her two sisters getting ready to have babies to catching her daddy and mama kissing in the kitchen.
Once the piecrust was rolled into a large thin circle, she changed to a different topic. “And I guess I should tell you about the sweet gift I received today.” One hand disappeared and then reappeared holding a big bouquet of red roses. “Aren’t they stunning?”
Casey stared at his phone. Roses? Who would bring her roses? Had Noelle gotten back together with her ex? It made sense. You only gave a girl red roses when things were serious. Casey hadn’t bought red roses in his life and probably never would.
“It was just so sweet it brought tears to my eyes,” she continued. “I’m sure y’all know what I’m talking about—the kind of emotion that just grips your heart and gives it a tug.”
Casey rolled his eyes, but her followers seemed to love it. The post had over ten thousand likes and close to two thousand comments that were filled with heart-eyed emojis. He couldn’t help feeling stunned. He hadn’t realized the Holiday Kitchen was so popular. No wonder the video had gone viral.
“It meant even more since we don’t have a floral shop here in Wilder and he had to drive all the way to Austin to get them.”
Now, Casey was completely confused. Why was she acting like her boyfriend lived in Wilder? Was she just ad-libbing? If she was, she needed to back off. Everyone knew everyone else in Wilder and the townsfolk who followed her were sure to call her out on the lie.
“And you know what he said when he gave them to me?” She made this fancy ruffle on the piecrust’s edges using her fingers and thumb. When she finished, she wiped her hands with a towel before turning the camera back to her face. A face that was holding the dopiest look he had ever seen in his life. Her voice quivered with emotion as she finally got around to answering her own question.
“Ellie, you’re the rose of my heart and I’ll always be around to catch you when you fall . . . just like I did the other day when you were decorating and fell off the ladder.”