Courting The Cowboy

His wife was buried there and in an hour and a half he would be sitting in her parents’ house. Once again hearing how wonderful their daughter was and how much they missed her.

Which as always, created a sickening guilt over Lisa’s death. A death he always felt personally responsible for.

Chapter Three (#udc403fd4-410b-5c2a-9844-67df5f904d3d)

Here she was again. Facing another blank piece of paper and no inspiration.

Ella wanted to scream her frustration. Especially because she even went to church yesterday hoping for something. Some peace or inspiration that would allow the thoughts and ideas to flow.

And again, nothing.

Then, as if her life was one endless round of déjà vu, once again she heard Suzy’s and Paul’s voices near the house. They were chattering away about something. Clearly excited.

Once again Pablo got up and ran to the door.

On the one hand, Ella fought down her own frustration, but at the same time part of her welcomed the intrusion. Clearly she wasn’t getting any work done anyway. And somehow the thought of seeing them didn’t bother her as much as it initially had.

She turned in her chair, and saw Pablo still sitting by the door, looking expectantly outside.

Then she heard faint whispering, and curious to know what was going on, she got up.

The kids stood with their backs to her house and it looked like Paul was holding something in his arms.

“Maybe we shouldn’t,” Paul said. His shirt was covered in straw and his shorts looked stained and dirty. “Dad said we shouldn’t come.”

“But I think Miss Ella would like to meet Oreo.” Suzy was bent over whatever Paul held in his arms, her own hair sprinkled with flecks of straw. Today the little girl wore plaid shorts and a black T-shirt tattered at the hem. Her hair was a snarled mess. What had the two of them been doing and who—or what—was Oreo?

Pablo stood now, looking intently at the kids, definitely interested in whatever the kids held in their hands. Just to be safe, Ella grabbed him by the collar as she opened the door.

“Maybe we should go back to our house,” Paul whispered.

But then Suzy saw Ella.

“Hi, Miss Ella. Look what we got from our Grammie and Grampie for our birthdays.” She grabbed Paul and spun him around.

An adorable black-and-white kitten lay cradled in Paul’s arms.

Pablo seemed far too interested in the animal, and not in a good “let’s be friends” way, but a “you look like a tasty meal” way.

Unfortunately Paul took her dog’s attention as friendliness. “Hey, Pablo, look what we have,” he said, showing the dog the kitten. “A new friend.”

“Don’t. Please,” Ella warned, her eyes shifting from the rising hair on the back of Pablo’s neck. “I don’t think Pablo likes your kitten.”

“Everyone loves kittens,” Suzy said, and before Ella could stop her, the little girl pushed Paul—and the kitten—closer to Pablo.

Pablo lunged and Ella tried her best to hold him back. Then, to her horror, the kitten, sensing the potential threat, clawed its way out of Paul’s arms and ran into the house, its tiny claws scrabbling across the linoleum.

Pablo spun around and Ella clung to him tightly.

“Paul, please go get that kitten,” she called out.

Paul stood, staring as Ella wrestled with her dog.

“Pablo. Sit,” she ordered in a firm, decisive voice.

Pablo hesitated but did as he was told. Hours of training with the dog had finally paid off. Nevertheless, Ella decided to play it safe and kept her hand on his collar.

“Paul, did you see where the kitten went?”

Paul silently shook his head, still looking at Pablo as if unsure what to do.

“I know where Oreo went,” Suzy announced and marched into the house, patting Pablo’s head as she passed him.

Pablo licked her hand and Ella relaxed. A bit.

“I think he ran into the living room,” Suzy said, disappearing around the corner.

Then Pablo twisted back to the doorway again, almost wrenching Ella’s arm loose. Now what?

Boyce Walsh was limping toward the house, head down, looking as if every step was an effort in his rush to get to the cabin.

He looked up and saw Ella, then waved with one hand. “Hey, Ella.”

Then he stopped, one hand on his chest, looking horribly out of breath. Ella, still holding Pablo, wasn’t sure what to do.

“Hey, Paul, you should go back to the house. Where’s Suzy?” he wheezed, one hand on the railing of the cabin’s porch.

“Are you okay?” Ella asked, concerned. The man sounded like he was going to have a heart attack.

“Yeah. Just short of breath. Woke up and the kidlets were gone.”

Ella glanced back at Paul who was now stroking Pablo’s head, then back at Boyce. “Is Ollie sleeping?”

Boyce shook his head. “He’s not here. He’s staying at his grandparents’. The other grandparents,” he gasped.

Why did that make her feel relieved?

Then Suzy showed up beside her, oblivious to the low growls Pablo was making. “I’m here, Grandpa. I was just getting Oreo.”

“You kids need to get back to the house. Now,” he said, but Boyce’s breathlessness took away the force of his words. “Your dad is on his way home and he won’t like it that you’re here bothering Miss Ella.”

Ella could see Suzy was having difficulty holding Oreo. A slow growl built in Pablo’s throat.

Suzy was struggling with the now frightened cat. “Oreo, stop scratching,” she called out, tears welling in her eyes.

Ella made a snap decision. “Stay here,” she said, then dragged her dog back to his kennel in the corner of the dining room, reprimanding him on the way.

He settled in the kennel as she closed and locked the door.