Carolyne Aarsen - Cowboy Daddy

Maybe the idea of hiring a housekeeper wasn’t so far-fetched.

“You realize my mother has had surgery?” he asked, still not sure he wanted a stranger in the house but also fully aware of his sister’s shortcomings in the housekeeping department.

“I’ve already met her.” Her smile seemed to underline her lack of objection. “Isabelle gave me some of the particulars.”

“Will you be able to come only certain hours, or do you have other obligations?” He still had his reservations, but since she had come all the way here and had done a bunch of work already, he should ask a few questions.

“I’m not married, if that’s what you’re asking,” Nicole said, brushing a wisp of hair back from her face with one graceful motion.

The gold hoops in her ears caught the sun, as did the rings on her manicured hands.

She didn’t look like she’d done much housekeeping. His first impression would have pegged her as a fashion model or businesswoman.

But then he’d been wrong about people before. Case in point: his one-time girlfriend, Nancy. The one who took off as soon as she found out he had been named the guardian of his nephews.

Nicole looked back at the boys, who hadn’t said a peep since she had appeared in the doorway. “I’m guessing you are Justin and Tristan?” she asked.

The boys, while boisterous and outgoing around family, were invariably shy around strangers, especially since their father, Scott’s death. They clung to Kip and leaned against his legs.

“It’s really nice to meet you at…meet you.” Nicole crouched down to the boys’ level. He caught the scent of lilacs, saw the curve of her cheek as she glanced from one boy to the other. Her hand reached out, as if to touch them, then retreated.

Something about the gesture comforted him. She seemed drawn to the boys, yet gave them space.

“My nephews are five. They’ll be going to school this fall.” He tightened his grip on the boys’ hands. “Though I hate the thought of putting the little guys on the school bus.” Why he told her that, he wasn’t sure.

“I told Uncle Kip we have to stay home. To help him with the chores,” Tristan said.

“I don’t know much about farm chores,” Nicole said, glancing from one boy to the other. “What kinds of things do you have to do?”

“We have to feed the dog,” Tristan offered quietly. “She has puppies.”

“You have puppies?” Nicole’s eyes grew wide. “That’s pretty neat.”

“And we have to help with the baby calves,” Justin added, as if unwilling to be outdone by his brother. “But we’re not allowed to ride the horses anymore.” He shot a hopeful glance Kip’s way but he ignored it. The boys had been campaigning all summer to ride again, but there was no way he was putting anyone he loved on a horse. Not since Scott’s accident.

They were too young and too precious.

“Now all I have to do is figure out which one of you is Tristan and which is Justin.” Nicole looked from one to the other, and the tenderness in her smile eased away Kip’s second thoughts.

“He’s Tristan,” Justin said, pointing to his brother. “And I’m Justin. We’re twins.”

“I see that. So how should I tell you apart?” Nicole asked.

“Justin has a little brown mark on his back. In the shape of a horseshoe,” Tristan offered.

“Do you think it was because you were born on a ranch?”

“Wasn’t borned on the ranch. I was borned in the hospital in Halifax.” He sighed. “My daddy is dead, you know.”

“Dead?” Nicole frowned. “What do you mean?”

“He died when he got on Uncle Kip’s horse.”

Tristan’s comment was said in all innocence, but again the guilt associated with his brother’s death washed over Kip.

“Your father is dead?” Nicole said, one hand pressed to her chest.

Why did she sound so shocked? Kip wondered.

“He died when the horse he was on flipped over,” Justin continued. “But we know he’s in heaven with Jesus. I talk to Jesus and tell him what to say to my daddy every night.”

“That’s…interesting.” A faint note of skepticism entered her voice that concerned him.

“We go regularly to church,” Kip said by way of brief explanation. “I hope that’s not a problem.” He wasn’t about to get into a theological discussion about what Jesus meant to him. If he decided to hire her, then she’d find out that faith was woven into every aspect of the Cosgroves’ life.

Nicole waved her hand as if dismissing his concerns. “No. Of course not.”

“And our mommy is gone,” Tristan offered, unwilling to let Justin do all the talking. “She just left us one day. All alone with the babysitter.”

“Then Daddy rescued us. He was a good daddy,” Justin said.

“How do you know your mommy left you?” A faint edge had entered her voice as she glanced up at Kip. “Do you know where their mother is?”

Kip shook his head, wondering why she wanted to know.

The reality was, no one in the Cosgrove family knew where Tricia was or whether she was dead or alive. His brother, Scott, and Tricia had been living in Nova Scotia when Tricia took off without a word six months after the boys were born.

Scott and his sons then moved back to the ranch.

“Do you want to see our dog’s puppies?” Justin tugged his hand free of Kip’s and reached out to Nicole.

“Shouldn’t you go and say hi to your Gramma?” Nicole asked.

Kip was pleasantly surprised at her consideration, but he also knew the boys would rather be outside.

“They can go.” He wanted a few minutes alone with his mother to get her impression of Nicole.

Tristan grabbed Nicole’s other hand and before she could lodge a protest the three of them were off.

Kip watched them head down the sidewalk toward the barn, still unsure. Hiring her would give him a break from the constant nagging he did to get Isabelle to help.

He sighed, glancing at his watch. He should go see his mother and then make sure the boys didn’t get into any trouble. Then he had to see what he could do about his tractor.

What had she done?

Nicole bit her lip as she looked down at the sticky faces of the two boys looking up at her, jabbering about cows and puppies and Uncle Kip and Auntie Isabelle and other relatives.

She tried to stifle her guilt.

She was no housekeeper. Nor had she come because of an advertisement. Her real reason for coming to the ranch was to see her nephews. Her sister’s boys.

That Kip’s sister Isabelle assumed she was the housekeeper had been a coincidence she capitalized on.

She clung to the boys’ hands as she felt buffeted by a wave of love. Justin. Tristan. Tricia’s twins. A remnant of the true Williams family now that Tricia was dead.

When Tricia had stormed out of their lives all those years ago, yelling that she’d never come back, Nicole had hoped her beloved sister would someday return. Nicole had prayed and had clung to this hope for eight years. However, four weeks ago a police officer showed up at the Williamses’ home in Rosedale, Toronto, with the news of Tricia’s death and crushed that hope.

Three years ago Tricia had been struck by a car while out walking late at night. She had no identification. It wasn’t until Tricia’s roommate registered her concern for the missing Tricia that the police were able to identify her body. The roommate knew only that Tricia had recently moved to Halifax and when she had earned enough money she planned to head out west. Then Tricia had had her accident.

The years had slipped by. Then, a month ago, the roommate moved out of her apartment and in the process had found an envelope behind a desk.

Inside the envelope were letters from Tricia to someone named Scott Cosgrove, a man Tricia apparently had been living with after the boys were born. From what Nicole and her father, Brent, understood from the letters, the boys’ biological father was dead. Scott, who was just her boyfriend, had somehow taken Tricia’s boys away from her while she was in a drug-rehabilitation program.