Page 39 of A Rancher's Heart
Chapter Nine
Caleb wasn’t sure how they’d gotten along before Tamara arrived.
Her presence was everywhere. Tasty food hit the table three times a day, the house sparkled—well, maybe not that, but it was a lot cleaner than it had been.
The girls were tolerating her okay. Emma had taken to following Tamara around like a hesitant puppy dog. His little girl would settle in and play somewhere near enough to keep an eye on what Tamara was doing. Sasha stuck close as well, but she didn’t seem as charmed, as if waiting to defend her sister in case Tamara’s true colours appeared.
So far he’d managed to stop from following in their footsteps. His issue was he couldn’t get near the woman without wanting to tug her against him and bury himself in her softness. She looked good, she smelled even better, but he refused to give in to the caveman-like urges that woke him in the middle of the night.
Woke him in the morning with a hard-on that would not quit.
Distraction. Now.
Instead of joining Tamara on the porch he forced himself into the office, the mess taunting him. He could deal with just about everything else on the ranch in an orderly fashion, but this was the one area he’d never been able to tackle to the ground.
It was the section of the ranch where his mom had reigned, and for a moment he got lost in the past. Images returning to mind of walking into the office and finding his mom and dad sharing a kiss. His dad thanking her for the work she’d done, and her winking back.
They’d been connected—so united in everything.
The knot of ancient pain Caleb kept under tight wraps in his core got in a sudden jab before he ruthlessly shoved it away. What his parents had must’ve been one in a million, because it certainly hadn’t been the situation with his wife. That oneness, or complete connection.
Oh, he’d had all kinds of hopes when he’d asked Wendy to marry him. Even though she’d been accidentally pregnant when he asked, he’d honestly felt they had a chance at love. Whatever the hell that meant, because it’d become clear pretty quickly her idea of being a rancher’s wife and reality were very different things.
He stared at the paper in front of him to discover he’d been doodling hay bales or some such nonsense. He ripped the page off and tossed it behind him.
It was better if he didn’t think about the woman. It was better if he didn’t think about his parents, or anything else he couldn’t have.
Instead he’d focus on what he did have. Wendy had given him the two most important things in his entire world. He wasn’t sure he always told them that, but he was trying. Sasha and Emma were the reason he got up every morning and headed out to get things done. They were the reason, even though he hated the task with a fiery passion, he reached for the bills and the chequebook, and forced himself to put numbers on the page so that he could accomplishsomethingbefore they got up.
Shockingly, he got distracted enough that the next thing he knew someone was tugging on his sleeve.
He rolled the office chair back and brought Emma into his arms. “Hey, button. Did you have a good sleep, or do I need to go dig some nasty peas out from under your mattress?”
A giggle escaped as she buried her face against him and cuddled closer. “No peas.”
“But it’s morning? Wow. The sun keeps getting up earlier and earlier.”
Emma laid her head on his chest and held on tight, and Caleb felt his frustrations and sorrows slip away. There was nothing better for a man’s soul than the innocent love of his child.
He ignored his work and happily cradled her until the clock on the wall warned time was ticking.
Caleb gave her a squeeze. “Okay, we’d better move. You have a full day ahead of you. We should go see if Tamara slept in.”
Emma snorted and shook her head.
“Oh, you’re right. I think she’s up. Do you smell muffins?”
Emma’s nose rose in the air like a little bloodhound.
He laughed, setting her on her feet before joining her, enough paperwork dealt with he could ignore the mess for another day. “Let’s check the kitchen and see if Sasha left us anything for breakfast.”
Sasha sat at the kitchen island looking as if butter wouldn’t melt in her mouth as she scolded Tamara. “We don’t eat muffins for breakfast,” Sasha said haughtily.
“There’s those ham-and-egg-type muffins as well, but if you don’t like either of those option, I guess you’re cooking for yourself this morning,” Tamara responded in a light tone. “Because that’s what I made. You want something else, feel free.”
Emma scrabbled up on the chair next to her sister and reached eagerly for the fresh baking.
Sasha glanced guiltily at Caleb before smiling primly and pretending she hadn’t just been a stinker to Tamara. “Good morning, Daddy.”
