Page 21 of Nanny for the Cowboy

I sigh, setting down the sander and making sure to unplug it and stow it properly. I won’t have accidents with the tools or heavy farm equipment if I can help it.

Though, I do wish I could blame some rogue spark of electricity or some valiant rescue of a calf for my broken arm. The truth is, I only have myself to blame for it.

Like usual, I was trying to do too much at once, and when I was carrying one too many bags of feed up to the storage loft, I missed a rung on the ladder and spilled ass over tea kettle backward.

Landing that way on your arm is apparently a surefire way to break it.Stupid.

Once everything is cleaned up, I head back toward the house just in time to catch the door before it slams behind Darby.

When it doesn’t shut, my son stops, confused, but then turns around to see me and smiles.

“Dad!” He hurries over, wrapping his arms around my waist for a hug, and I grin. “We had so much fun!”

“Glad to hear it. And it looks like you got all the picnic stuff put away?” I look around the room, expecting to see an errant blanket or a bit of garbage that needs to go out.

“Clover made sure of it. Oh! Guess what I learned today!”

“Oh, come on. Can’t we just leave that a secret between you and me? And Rosie, I suppose.”

Clover comes in from the downstairs washroom, her skin flushed and a fresh bit of water clinging to the ends of her hair like she ran her wet hand through it.

“You met his history teacher?” I cock a brow, unsure how that would happen.

Clover looks over at me, and I immediately notice how the pink in her cheeks glows a hair brighter. Despite the cool air in the house, that flush isn’t going away.

What exactly happened out there?

“Oh, umm, yes. I did. We ran into each other in the park.” She looks over at Darby, nailing him with a bit of a knowing glare. “It’s not a big deal. Right?”

Darby pauses for a second, understanding what Clover is getting at. I study the interaction between them, tickled over this little conspiratorial exchange they’re having.

“Clover can sing!” He breaks eye contact with her and turns to me. “Really good, too!”

I can’t stop the bark of laughter that escapes. It’s not at all what I expected him to say, and I look back over at Clover, who is fully bright pink now.

God, that shouldn’t be so adorable.

“I’m sorry, what happened now?” I fold my arms over my chest casually, leaning back against the doorframe between the mud room and the kitchen.

Darby smiles, coming over toward the coat and shoe rack to deposit his sneakers. I see Clover’s tiny ones already there, and again, I can’t believe they’re nearly the same size as my son’s.

“It’s not a big deal. I just got pressured to sing a Disney song by a ten-year-old. We can totally drop it.”

And there I go, laughing again. It’s so strange. I haven’t done much of that since Leah left us. It wasn’t unheard of, but this is undoubtedly the most I’ve done so in a week. Hell, in a day.

“What song?” I ask, doing nothing to hide the smirk I’m wearing.

“Ugh,” Clover sighs, her shoulders drooping. It’s clear that she’s feeling pretty put on the spot, but the embarrassment looks good on her, almost as much as those skinny jeans she insists on wearing.

There’s a pause, however. I know that Clover is debating telling me, and for some goddamn dumb reason, I just have to know.

“I promise I won’t say a word.” I nod when she looks up at me and then cross my finger over my chest.

She chuckles. “A regular boy scout, aren’t ya? Oh, Lord. It was ‘Baby Mine.’”

I raise my brows, my mind reeling a bit. “The one fromDumbo?”

Nodding, Clover rolls her eyes, releasing the breath she’s been holding. For a moment, I can’t move.

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