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But saddled he was.
The young woman who got out of the passenger seat looked nothing like a housekeeper, not that a housekeeper had ever graced the uneven halls of the Carson Ranch. He came from hardscrabble stock who’d never seen much luxury in life. Never seen much purpose for it, either.
Noah still didn’t, but all his help had moved out. Grady was off living with a Delaney. Vanessa, who’d once taken on much of the cleaning and cooking responsibilities—no matter how poorly—had moved into town. His brother, Ty, came and went as he pleased, spending much of his time in town. Any time he spent at the ranch was with the horses or pushing Noah’s buttons. Noah’s teenage stepcousin was as helpful as a skunk.
Noah was running a small cattle ranch on his own, and yes, cleaning and cooking definitely fell by the wayside.
Didn’t mean he needed an outsider lurking in the corners dusting or whatnot. Especially some wispy, timid blonde.
The blonde pulled a baby out of the back seat of the car. And she had a baby no less. Not even a very big-looking baby. The kind of tiny, drooly thing that would only serve to make him feel big and clumsy.
Noah’s scowl deepened. He didn’t know what to do with babies. Or wispy blondes. Or people in general. If only the horses could housekeep. He’d be set.
The door opened, Laurel striding in first. Noah didn’t bother to soften his scowl and she rolled her eyes at him.
Noah was a firm believer in history, and the history of Bent, Wyoming, was that Carsons and Delaneys hated each other, and anytime they didn’t, only bad things came of it. Noah didn’t know what Laurel had done to Grady to change Grady’s mind on the importance of the feud, but here they were, ruining his life. As a couple.
It was a shame he liked Laurel. Made all his scowling and disapproval hard to hang on to.
The blonde carrying the baby stepped in behind Laurel, followed by Grady.
“Noah,” Laurel said with one of those smiles that were a clear and sad attempt to get him to smile back.
He didn’t.
“Noah Carson, this is your new housekeeper, Addie Foster, and her son, Seth. Addie, this is Noah. Ignore the gruff Wyoming cowboy exterior. He’s a teddy bear underneath.”
Noah grunted and Grady laughed. “Ease up there, princess. No one’s going to believe that.”
Laurel shot Grady a disapproving look. “The point is, Noah will be a fair and, if not pleasant, a kind employer. Won’t you, Noah?”
He grunted again. Then looked at the blonde. “Thought you were a Delaney.”
“Oh, well.” Addie smiled, or tried to. “Sort of. My grandfather was one.” She waved a nervous hand, her eyes darting all around and not settling on any one thing.
“I’ll show you to your room, and Noah and Grady can bring in the baby stuff,” Laurel said cheerfully, already leading Addie and baby down the hall like she owned the place.
“Come on, let’s get the stuff,” Grady said once the women were gone.
“Remember when this was my house because I was the only one willing to work the ranch full time?” Noah glanced back at where the two women had disappeared. “Your woman’s going to get baby ideas,” he muttered.
Grady scoffed, but Noah noted that he didn’t argue.
Which was to be expected, Noah supposed, but Noah hated change. Especially uncomfortable change. People change.
“You don’t have to be prickly about it. You’re going to have a clean house and a few home-cooked meals. Try a thank-you.”
“You know me a lot better than that,” Noah returned as they opened the trunk to Laurel’s car.
Grady sighed, grabbing a stroller. “Laurel thinks Addie’s in a bit of trouble.”
“What kind of trouble?”
“Laurel’s theory? Abusive husband.”
“Hell,” Noah grumbled. He didn’t know what to do with babies, and he definitely didn’t know what to do with a fragile woman who’d been the victim of abuse.
“She just needs a fresh start is all. Somewhere she feels safe. I’ll keep an eye out for any other jobs that’ll work while she’s got the baby, but this is important. And it isn’t like you don’t need the help.”
“It isn’t that bad.”
Grady looked at him dolefully as they hefted a menagerie of baby things out of Laurel’s trunk and headed toward the house. “Pretty sure you were wearing that shirt yesterday, cousin.”
Noah looked down at the faded flannel work shirt. “No, I wasn’t.” Maybe. He didn’t mind doing laundry, but he hated folding laundry, and then the clean and dirty sometimes got a little mixed up if they weren’t muck clothes.
Grady stepped inside, but Noah paused on the stairs. He looked back over his shoulder at the mountains in the distance. Clouds were beginning to form and roll, and there’d be a hell of a storm coming for them soon enough.
On a sigh, Noah stepped inside. This was his idea of a nightmare, but he wasn’t a jerk who couldn’t put his own wants and preferences on the back burner for someone in trouble. If the woman and the baby were really running from some no-good piece-of-trash ex...
He’d suck it up. He might be growly and taciturn, but he wasn’t a bad guy. Not when it came to things like this. She might be related to a Delaney, but he knew what violence could do to a family. Carsons couldn’t help but know that, and he’d promised himself he wouldn’t be like them.
Somehow it had worked out. This generation of Carsons wasn’t half as bad as the last, if a little wild, but he and Grady and Ty stood up for people who couldn’t stand up for themselves. He wouldn’t stop now.
Even if the woman and her baby did have Delaney in their blood.
Noah walked down the hall and into the room where Grady was already setting up all the baby gear for Addie while Laurel cooed over the baby in her arms. Noah gave Grady a pointed look but Grady ignored it.
“Well, we better get going and let you have some settle-in time,” Laurel said, looking around the room as if inspecting it. “You can call me day or night. Whatever you need, or Seth needs.”
“Thanks,” Addie said, and Noah tried not to frown over the tears shimmering in the woman’s eyes. Hell, female tears were the worst thing. Laurel and Addie hugged, the baby between them, before Grady and Laurel left. Laurel paused in front of Noah.
“Thank you,” she mouthed, holding a hand over her heart.
Noah merely scowled, but the annoying thing about Laurel was she was never fooled by things like that. She seemed to be under the impression he was the nicest one of the lot.
Noah hated that she was right.
“So, I’ll leave you to settle in,” Noah offered, not expressly making eye contact considering this was a bedroom. “Need anything, let me know.”
“Oh, but... Shouldn’t I be saying that to you? I mean, shouldn’t we go over duties? Since Laurel and Grady set this up, I...I’m not sure what you expect of me.” She bounced the baby on her hip, but Noah figured it was more nerves than trying to keep the boy from fussing.
He tried to smile, though even if he’d accomplished it he knew it was hard to see beyond the beard. “We can do it in the morning.”
She blinked at him, all wide blue-eyed innocence. “I’d like to do it now. This is a job, and I should be working it.”
“It’s Sunday. Rule number one, you don’t work on Sunday.”
“What do I do then?”
“I don’t care, but I’ll cook my own meals and clean up after myself on Sundays. Understood?”
She nodded. “What’s rule number two?”
Timid. He did not know what to do with timid, but he was being forced. Well, maybe he needed to treat her like a skittish horse. Horse training wasn’t his expertise, but he understood enough about the animals to know they needed a clear leader, routine and the opportunity to build their confidence.
Noah glanced at the hopeful young woman and tried not to grimace.
“I have a checklist,” she blurted.
“A checklist?”
“Yes, of duties. Of things I do for people. When I’m housekeeping. I... You...”
The sinking feeling that had been plaguing him since Grady announced his and Laurel’s little plan that morning sank deeper. “You haven’t done this before, have you?”
“Oh.” She looked everywhere around the room except him. “Um. Well. Sort of.”
“Sort of?”
“I...I can cook, and clean. I just haven’t ever been on a ranch, or lived in someone else’s house as their employee. So that’s, um, well, it’s super weird.” She glanced at the kid in her arms. “And I have a baby. Which is weird.”
“Super weird,” he intoned.
She blinked up at him, some of that anxiety softening in her features. “If you tell me what you want me to do, I promise I can do it. I’m just not sure what you expect. Or want.”
“I’ll make you up a checklist.”
She opened her mouth, then closed it, then opened it again. “I’m sorry, was that a joke? I can’t exactly tell.”
Noah’s mouth twitched of its own accord. “Settle in. Get the baby settled in. Tomorrow morning, six a.m., kitchen table. We’ll discuss your duties then.”
“Okay.”
He turned to go, but she stopped him with a hesitant “um.”
He looked over his shoulder at her.
“It’s just, could you give us something of a tour? A map? Smoke signals to the bathroom?”
Noah was very bad at controlling his facial features, half of why he kept a beard, so the distaste must have been clear all over his face.
“I’m sorry, I make jokes when I’m nervous.”
“Funny, I just shut up.”
Those big blue eyes blinked at him, not quite in horror, but not necessarily in understanding, either.
“Sorry,” he muttered. “That was a joke. I joke when I’m nervous, too.”
“Really?”
“No. Never,” he replied, chastising himself for being prickly, and then ignoring his own chastisement. “Follow me. I’ll show you around.”
Chapter Two (#uc35f7e3b-0925-5a2a-81c6-0aab782a6dc3)
September
Addie liked to use Seth’s afternoon nap for laundry folding and listening to an audiobook, then dinner prep. She’d been at the Carson Ranch for a full month now, and while she couldn’t claim comfort or the belief she was truly safe and settled, she’d developed a routine, and that was nice.
She found she liked housekeeping, much to her surprise. As an administrative assistant in the family business—a franchise of furniture stores Grandpa had moved to Boston to run when his father-in-law had died suddenly back in the fifties—she’d hated waiting on people, keeping things and meetings organized. She’d taken the job because it had been expected of her, and she hadn’t known what else to do with her life.
So, the fact keeping everything neat and organized at Noah’s house, making meals and helping the ranch run smoothly felt good was a surprise. Maybe it was the six months of being on the run and not having a house or anything to care for except Seth’s safety.
Maybe it was simply that she felt, if not safe here, like she fit here.
Addie worked on chopping vegetables for a salad, the baby monitor she’d bought with her first overly generous paycheck sitting on the sill of the window overlooking the vast Carson Ranch. She hadn’t needed a monitor in any of the previous places she’d been. They were all hotel rooms or little one-room apartments where she could hear Seth no matter where she went.
Now she had a whole house to roam, and so did Seth. They had these beautiful views to take in. For as long as it lasted, this life was good.
Some little voice in the back of her head warned her not to get too attached or settle in too deeply. Peter could always find her here, although it was unlikely. She hadn’t shared anything with her father since he’d cut off Kelly long before Seth, and she’d been on shaky ground for not cutting Kelly off as well.
As for the rest of her friends and family, she’d sent a cheery email to them saying she’d gotten an amazing job teaching English in China and she’d send them contact information when she was settled.
If anyone had been suspicious, she’d been long gone before she could see evidence of it.
Addie didn’t miss Boston or her cold father or even the furniture store that was supposed to be her legacy. That was also a surprise. Boston and her family had always been home, though not exactly a warm one after Mom had died when Addie’d been a kid. Still, striking out and starting over as a faux single mom had been surprisingly fulfilling. If she discounted the terror and constant running.
But she wasn’t running right now. More and more, she was thinking of the Carson Ranch as home.
“You are a hopeless idiot, Addie Foster,” she muttered to herself.
She startled as the door swung open, the knife she’d been using clattering to the cutting board from nerveless fingers.
But it was only Noah who swept in, looking as he always did, like some mythical man from a Wild West time machine. Dirty old cowboy hat, scuffed and beaten-up cowboy boots. The jeans and heavy coat were modern enough, but Noah’s beard wasn’t like all the fashionable hipster ones she was used to. No, Noah’s beard was something of an old-fashioned shield.
She found herself pondering a little too deeply what he might be shielding himself from. Snapping herself out of that wonder, she picked up the knife. “You’re early,” she offered, trying to sound cheerful. “Dinner isn’t ready yet.”
It was another thing she’d surprisingly settled into with ease. They all three ate dinner together. Noah wasn’t exactly a talkative guy, but he listened. Sometimes he even entertained Seth while she cleaned up dinner.
He grunted, as he was so often wont to do, and slid his coat and hat off before hanging them on the pegs. She watched it all through her peripheral vision, forcing herself not to linger on the outline of his muscles in the thermal shirt he wore.
Yes, Noah had muscles, and they were not for her to ogle. Though she did on occasion. She was human, after all.
“Just need to call the vet,” he said.
“Is something wrong?”
“Horses aren’t right. Will there be enough for dinner if Ty comes over?”
