“We have to get to Auntie Doreen’s right away,” Tristan said. “So we can get the best toys.”
“Auntie Doreen’s? What are you talking about?”
“We always go to Auntie Doreen’s for lunch,” Justin said, in a tone that implied she should know this.
Nicole glanced back over her shoulder, but Kip was exiting the other aisle, pushing his mother’s wheelchair. She’d have to wait until he caught up to her to find out what was going on.
The boys had their own plan. They pulled her along, and as they exited the auditorium, someone called the boys’ names.
“Oh, brother,” Justin said, throwing his hands up in an dramatic gesture. “Now we’re going to be late.” But he stopped and turned around.
A young woman carrying a tiny baby in one arm and leading a little girl roughly the same age as the boys walked up to them. “Hey, guys. There you are,” she said to them.
The woman’s hair was the same shade as Kip’s and her eyes the same color. Her features were closer to Isabelle’s than her brother’s. When she smiled at the boys, Nicole could see Mary Cosgrove in the shape of her mouth.
“I’m guessing you’re Nicole,” the woman said. When she met Nicole’s eyes, her smile tightened, as if she had to force it.
Nicole wasn’t surprised. She didn’t think Kip’s sister would be thrilled to meet the woman who was laying a claim to her nephews.
Alleged nephews, she reminded herself.
“Hello, I’m Doreen. Kip’s sister.” Doreen raised her chin by way of greeting, her hands otherwise occupied with two of her children. “Would you like to join us for lunch?”
Doreen knew who she was and what she hoped to do, yet she was asking her over?
She was about to give the very polite young mother an easy out when Justin blurted out, “You have to come, Auntie Nicole. You have to.”
“Please, come. Please,” Tristan added, pulling on her hand as if he hoped to physically drag a response from her. “We can ride with you and tell you where to go so you don’t get lost.”
“I don’t know—” she hesitated. If she didn’t go along, this time in church would be her only time with the boys.
“Come and join us,” Doreen added. “Kip asked me to ask you, but it would be our pleasure if you came.” Her smile held a bit more warmth, and Nicole relented.
“I’d be glad to.” Truth was, the thought of returning to the stark and plain motel room held little appeal. It reminded her too much of the times her aunt would bring her to her father when he was working near the town.
It had nothing to do with the fact that Kip had asked Doreen to invite her. Nothing at all.
Fifteen minutes and some rather convoluted directions later, Nicole was parking her car beside an older house on an acreage outside of Millarville. Trucks and ride-on toys dotted the lawn. Flowers spilled out of pots hanging from brackets on the side of the house and set up against a crooked concrete step. Shrub-filled flower beds nestled up against the wooden siding of the older home. The entire place looked homey and comfortable and welcoming.
“Let’s go, Auntie Nicole,” the boys called out as they ran up the walk.
As she got out, Kip pulled up his truck beside her. Mary Cosgrove sat in the front seat.
“You go inside,” she told the boys. “I’ll help Uncle Kip.”
The boys didn’t even look back as they raced over the lawn to the house.
“Where’s Isabelle?” Nicole asked as Kip got out of the truck.
“She rode with Doreen.” Kip pulled a wheelchair out of the back of the truck.
Nicole frowned. “Where’s your mom’s walker?”
“She said her knee was really bothering her,” Kip said as he snapped open the chair. “So she’s taking a break.”
“She’ll never heal from the surgery properly if she doesn’t keep working her legs.”
Kip gave her an odd look as he wheeled the chair to the door of the truck, and she wasn’t sure what to make of it. Then he held her gaze and smiled a slow-release smile. She wasn’t sure what to make of that either.
“Why don’t you tell her that?” he said quietly.
“I will.” Nicole waited until Kip opened the door of the truck, then watched as Mary worked her way into the chair.
“So you found your way here,” Mary said with a grunt as she settled into the chair. “I thought for sure those boys would try to take you through the shortcut and get lost.”
“We made it okay. Why aren’t you using your walker?”
“My knee has been bothering me,” Mary said with a quick glance back at Kip as if hoping he would intervene.
“If you don’t keep moving, then all the pain from the surgery will be for nothing and you’ll be back to where you started before your surgery.”
“Well, I suppose.” Mary bit her lip, as if thinking. “But I don’t have my walker now.”
“Kip and I can help you to the house. You can lean on our arms, and then you can sit on a normal chair and not look like such an invalid.”
“I guess so,” Mary said with a heavy sigh. She looked up at Nicole with narrow eyes. “You’re a bit bossy, you know.”
“So I’ve been told.” Nicole caught Kip’s gaze and tried not to roll her eyes. Kip grinned.
They walked slowly up to the house just as Isabelle came to the door. She glared at Nicole, then back at her mother.
“Wow, Mom. You’re not using the wheelchair,” she said with an admiring tone.
“Nicole told me I could do it, and I guess I can.”
Isabelle shot Nicole a frown, but then reached out for her mother’s arm. “I’ll take over from here.”
Nicole relinquished her hold as Isabelle ushered Mary into the house.
Kip blew out his breath and shot her a quick smile. “Thanks for the help. For some reason she won’t listen to me.”
“You have to be firm.”
“You sound like a mother,” Kip’s smile widened.
“I used to boss Tricia around something awful.” Nicole felt a momentary pang at the memory. “I guess I’m a natural.”
“You are that.” Kip touched her face, his fingers lingering on her cheek.
Nicole’s heart stuttered in her chest and, cheeks burning, she stepped into the house.
Mary was already settled in a chair, looking quite satisfied with herself, a cup of tea beside her on a TV tray. Isabelle was lying on the couch, reading a magazine.
“Hey, Kip, you made it.” Doreen called out as she came into the living room, carrying her baby. She reached up to give Kip a one-armed hug that he reached down to return. Then he bent over the baby curled up in his sister’s arm and touched its tiny head with one finger. “Hey, little one,” he said quietly. “How are you?”
Nicole swallowed at the sight of this big, tough cowboy bent over this little baby, a look of tenderness on his face.
Doreen glanced over at Nicole. “I hope this isn’t too overwhelming. Kip told me that you’re used to a little more sedate lifestyle.”
Nicole wondered what else Kip had told his sister.
“I’ll be fine. I like kids.”
Doreen’s gaze flashed from Nicole to Kip. “That’s good.” She jostled the now-fussing baby.
“What’s her name?” Nicole asked.
“Emily.”
Nicole gave into an impulse and held her arms out. “Can I hold her?”
Doreen’s frown was fleeting, but then she nodded. “That’d be great.”
She handed the little bundle over with all the confidence of an experienced mother. Nicole felt a little awkward as the baby squawked a protest, but when Emily settled in Nicole’s arms, her tiny mouth stretched open in a yawn. Her delicate fingers stretched and with a sigh as gentle as a cobweb, she drifted back to sleep.
“She’s so beautiful,” Nicole whispered, stroking her petal-soft cheek with one finger.
“I think we’ll keep her around for a while. At least until the terrible twos. Might h
ave to see if we can farm her out then—” Then Doreen sucked in a quick breath. “I’m sorry…I didn’t mean…that was thoughtless.”
“Why don’t I help you and Ron get lunch on the table,” Kip said, taking his sister’s arm. “Just make yourself at home,” he said to Nicole.
Nicole presumed that Kip wanted to have a “chat” with his sister. She also presumed that he had told her about her past, which surprised her.
“Come sit over here,” Mary said, brushing a stuffed duck and a book off the chair beside her. “Don’t worry about Doreen. She tends to talk before she thinks. The hazards of being a mother.”
“That’s okay. It didn’t bother me.” Nicole just smiled as she slowly lowered herself into the chair. Little Emily pursed her lips and rolled her head, then settled again. Nicole touched her face again, then let the baby curl her tiny fingers around hers. “Look how delicate her fingernails are. Like little grains of rice,” she remarked, taking in the wonder of this brand-new person.
“Pretty amazing,” Mary said quietly. “It never gets old.”
“Did you want to hold her?” Nicole asked, realizing that she was taking this baby away from her own grandmother.
Mary waved away her offer. “I get to see her enough.”
Nicole was secretly glad. She didn’t want to relinquish her precious burden. It had been years and years since she’d seen a baby, much less held one.
As she looked down at Emily, she wondered about her biological mother’s love. Wondered how she had felt when she held her. Wondered how Tricia felt when the twins were born.
Her heart contracted at the thought.
She heard lowered voices coming from the kitchen and she presumed Kip and his sister were talking. About her plans? About the boys?
“Don’t worry,” Mary said quietly. “He’ll be back.”
A flush worked its way up Nicole’s neck. “I was just…it’s not…”
Mary patted her on the shoulder. “He’s a good man, my Kip. Please remember that,” she said, lowering her voice.
Nicole caught Mary’s gaze. Did she know what was building between Nicole and her son? “I know he is a good man,” she said, her voice full of conviction.
Isabelle glared at her over the top of her magazine. “Then why are you taking the boys—” Isabelle stopped herself, threw her magazine down on the couch and got up. “I’m going outside.”
But as she left, Nicole caught a glimmer in her eyes. She suspected the glimmer came from unshed tears and the sight tangled her emotions even more.
The longer she stayed here and the more she got to know the Cosgrove family, the more confused she became about what she had come to do. She wondered if, when the time came, she could do it?
Chapter Fourteen
“So the boys tell me you went to the chuck-wagon races yesterday, Kip,” Alex said, reaching across the dining room table for another bun. “That must have been interesting.”
If he only knew, Kip thought, slicing up a bun for Tristan and avoiding Nicole’s gaze.
The entire family was grouped around the dining room table, kids interspersed between the adults, and conversations zipped back and forth and through each other.
“Yeah. Mike won his heat.”
“Uncle Kip was so excited that he kissed Auntie Nicole,” Justin piped up.
Kip wanted to elbow the little guy, but that would only draw even more attention to the situation.
“Do you miss it?” Alex asked, feeding another spoonful of soup to his youngest daughter, tactfully ignoring Justin’s little outburst.
“What? You kissed Auntie Nicole?” Jenna, one of Doreen’s older children, called across the table.
“Yeah. I missed racing the chucks.” Kip ignored Jenna and tried not to catch Nicole’s reaction to both the comment and his niece’s reference to her as “Auntie Nicole.” She sat across from him, and it was hard not to look over her way from time to time only to catch her looking at him.
“You beat Mike a bunch of times, didn’t you?” Mary said. “Paul, don’t blow your nose in the napkin, honey.”
“I tied with him once at the Ponoka Stampede and I think I beat him at a race in Lethbridge.” Kip stood up and helped himself to another bowl of soup from the huge pot in the middle of the table, then served up for two of Doreen’s children as well.
As he did, he thought of the pictures of Nicole’s home that the boys had found on Nicole’s phone and so generously shown to him. The photos were small, but it wasn’t hard to see the size of the house and the grounds surrounding it.
He doubted Nicole had ever had soup served to her out of an industrial sized pot plopped unceremoniously on an old wooden table, scarred from the doodlings of seven children.
He doubted she ever ate with a group of kids so noisy and rambunctious that half of the conversation consisted of reprimands and reminders to eat.
“I think you should do it again,” Kristen, Doreen’s second oldest daughter, said. “I loved watching you race.”
“Uncle Kip takes us every year, at Christmas, on a sleigh ride,” Jenna said to Nicole. “But he didn’t this year.”
Kip wished they could move to the usual topics of conversation. The weather, the kids, the crops, the kids, the neighbors, the kids.
“Have you ever ridden, Nicole?” Doreen said, wiping the face of a little child beside her while she spoke.
“Quite extensively. My parents owned a number of horses that my sister and I rode, though I spent more time with them than Tricia did. We were fortunate enough to have a barn that we could ride in on all year round.”
Some barn, Kip thought, remembering the pictures of the arena and painted wooden fences. That barn looked in better shape than their house.
“You really should take Nicole out on the horses,” Doreen said. “Or at least take her out in the wagon.”
“I don’t think I have time.”
“You always had time before,” his mother said.
Kip wasn’t going to point out the obvious. That “before” was before Scott died. Before he didn’t trust other people around his horses anymore.
Scott made his own choices. Nicole’s comment echoed in his head at the same time as she focused her gaze on him.
“Wouldn’t you love to go on a wagon ride with Kip’s horses?” Doreen asked Nicole, pushing the point.
“Doreen…” Kip warned.
“I think it would be a wonderful to do something so idyllic.” Nicole spoke quietly, but her subtext was clear as was her choice of words. Idyllic indeed.
Doreen clapped her hands like a little kid. “Why don’t you take Nicole out and then, tomorrow after school, I’ll drop by with the kids and you can take them on a ride too? To make up for them not being able to go on their sleigh ride at Christmas.”
Kip shot his sister an exasperated look, but she stared him down, looking as innocent as her little baby.
“I think it’s a great idea and I’d love to go,” Nicole said, adding one more layer of pressure.
Though he had other work waiting for him, Kip knew what he’d be doing tomorrow.
Unbidden, his gaze slipped to Nicole, only to catch her looking at him. For a moment he couldn’t look away. For a moment, it was as if he’d lost himself in her eyes.
And that was a dangerous place to be.
“Are you sure you’re okay with this?” Nicole glanced over at Kip as they walked to the corrals. She didn’t want him to feel pressured, but at the same time the thought of going out on the wagon with him created a little thrum of excitement.
Kip sighed. “When my sister starts bossing me around, I just pull my hat lower, and smile and nod.”
“Seems to be your default position around the women in your life.”
Kip laughed. “That and keep a low profile.”
Tristan and Justin were back at the house with Mary and Isabelle. To Nicole’s surprise, Isabelle had been willing to watch the boys while Nicole went with Kip to get the horses and hitch them u
p. She suspected it might have something to do with the comment she made at Doreen’s on Sunday. As if she suddenly realized what the implications of Nicole’s presence would mean to the boys she had grown up with.
Seemed she wasn’t as self-centered as she came across.
“I feel like you were railroaded into this,” Nicole added, “Are you sure you’re comfortable with the idea?”
“I wouldn’t be comfortable working with my horses with anyone else,” he said, surprising her with his comment.
She tried to read his expression, but he was looking ahead, his eyes shadowed by the brim of his cowboy hat.
“I haven’t worked with horses for a while,” Kip added. “If things don’t go the way I want right off the bat, then we’re not doing this at all.”
“I understand,” Nicole said. “Though I don’t have my heart set on going out, I do think it’s a good thing for you.”
Kip pushed his hat back and glanced at her. “And you care for my welfare because?”
Nicole stopped, looking directly at him. “I care because I saw how much racing those horses meant to you. I care because I have the feeling you’re not complete unless you’ve got a team of horses ahead of you, leather reins threaded through your hands, and the wind in your face.”
Kip slowly shook his head, smiling at her. “You seem to spend a lot of time looking out for other people.
Nicole shrugged. “Not really. I just…care.”
“Do you ever look out for yourself?”
“Of course I do.” Nicole released a short laugh.
“That’s why you’re doing conference calls on Sunday afternoons and trying to juggle your work at home with your time here.”
“It’s my reality.”
“And you worrying about my mom? Is that your reality? And the way you’re not afraid to tackle Isabelle? And how you’re always fussing about the boys?”
Nicole frowned at him. “What are you talking about?”
Kip’s expression grew serious. He tapped her on her forehead. “Doesn’t this ever get full of other people’s things, other people’s stuff, other people’s problems?”
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