A Cowboy For The Twins

“Just my mom,” Noah said.

“That’s a big house for one person,” Millie said. “She must rattle around in it. That’s what my mom always says when she sees big houses.”

Shauntelle wanted to reprimand Millie, but it would only draw more attention to her comment. Right about now Shauntelle was having a hard enough time stifling her own reaction to Noah’s place and his presence. She struggled with a mixture of frustrated fury with him and an older, traitorous attraction.

Noah Cosgrove had always been one to make young girls’ hearts beat faster. At one time, so had hers.

But he was older. Then he’d left, and her life moved on.

Now here she was, a widow responsible for two children and full of plans for a future of her own. Roger had been a good man, but it seemed they spent most of their married life chasing after his dreams and plans, to the detriment of their family life and finances.

She learned the hard way that it was up to her to make something of her life. She couldn’t count on anyone else’s help. Now she was determined to make a future for herself and her daughters by way of her restaurant. This would require all her energy and concentration.

Besides, after what happened to Josiah, Noah was so far off her radar he may as well be in another solar system.

Noah pulled the truck up in front of a double garage. “Home sweet home,” he said, but Shauntelle heard a puzzling tone in his voice. Sarcastic almost.

“I’ll just be a minute,” he said, walking to the door.

Millie was about to get out to follow him when Shauntelle caught her by the arm. “Stay here. Mr. Cosgrove just wants to say hello to his mother, and we should let them do that alone.”

“But I want to see the house,” her daughter cried.

“Doesn’t matter. Stay put.”

“I want to see it too,” Margaret added.

“Learn to live with disappointment,” Shauntelle said in a wry tone, though she was talking as much to herself as she was to her daughter.

Part of her would have loved to see the inside of this very impressive home. She was always interested in floor plans and the layout of rooms. Someday she hoped to build her own house, though it would never approach the size of this place.

She looked over the massive expanse of lawn that needed mowing spread out in front of the house, the flower beds that had seen better days and the older hip roof barn beside them. Beyond that were rail fences and pastures all flowing toward the mountains guarding the valley where the house was situated.

It was a showpiece, that was for sure. However, no swing sets stood in the yard, no play center or sandbox. No sign that, at one time, a young boy had lived here. She knew Noah had been an only child, but still.

Her parents’ yard still had the old tractor tire sandbox she and Josiah had played in, as well as the rickety swing set the girls liked to play on.

But nothing here.

A few moments later the door of the house opened, and to Shauntelle’s surprise, Noah and Mrs. Cosgrove came out.

She looked tired and frail. Her once-dark hair hung in a gray bob. The gray-and-pink-striped tunic she wore over leggings seemed to hang on her narrow frame. Shauntelle had seen Mrs. Cosgrove in town from time to time and at church once in a while. Though she couldn’t be more than sixty, she looked far older.

“I told my son I wanted to say hello to you,” Mrs. Cosgrove said, waving at them as they came nearer. “He said he was helping you make deliveries.”

“My mom’s car broke down,” Millie announced, clambering out of the truck before Shauntelle could stop her. And where Millie went, Margaret followed.

They gathered around Mrs. Cosgrove, looking all demure and sweet. It would be rude if she stayed in the truck, so Shauntelle came to join them as well.

Mrs. Cosgrove gave her a gentle smile, holding her hand out to her. “And how are you doing, my dear? You have been through a lot. First your husband and then your brother.”

Shauntelle was surprised Mrs. Cosgrove mentioned Josiah in front of Noah. But she swallowed an unwelcome knot of sorrow and gave her a faint smile.

“It’s been difficult,” she said. “But I have my girls and the community, and I’ve gotten a lot of support from my parents as well.”

“They are good people and I’m so sorry for their loss, and yours as well when your brother died.” Mrs. Cosgrove took her hand in both of hers, looking into her eyes.

Her sympathy was almost Shauntelle’s undoing, but she kept it together. She did not want to cry in front of Noah and his mother.

“My gramma said that Uncle Josiah worked for an evil man,” Millie put in, shattering the mood and moment. “That’s why he died. But Mr. Cosgrove doesn’t look that evil.”

Shauntelle felt like grabbing her dear daughter and covering her mouth, but it was too late.

Again she saw pain and anger flit over Noah’s face. Again she wondered how much he took to heart.

Mrs. Cosgrove looked from Millie to Noah, her own features twisted as she withdrew her hand.

“Sometimes we only know part of the story,” she said. “But I won’t keep you long. I understand you have lots of deliveries to do. I wanted to say hello. I hope to see you tomorrow at the Farmer’s Market. You will have a table there, won’t you?” she asked Shauntelle.

“Yes. I will. If you have anything specific you want me to make, you are more than welcome to put in an order.”

“That’s fine, my dear. Maybe I’ll let Noah pick something out. He’s especially fond of chocolate cake.”

“I’m fond of your chocolate cake,” Noah corrected.

His mother gave him a gentle tick with her fingers. “You never say that in front of another woman,” she said.

“Sorry. Forgot about the female code.” Noah’s smile held a touch of melancholy, and Shauntelle thought it must be difficult for him to see his mother like this. “But you better get back to your easy chair, and we better get going.” Noah motioned with his head to the house.

Mrs. Cosgrove glanced over at Shauntelle. “He makes me sound like I’ve got one foot in the grave. Which is quite a physical feat, considering the graveyard is about ten miles away.”

Shauntelle chuckled at that, but she could see from the puzzlement on Millie’s and Margaret’s faces that she would be in for several questions from them about that phrase.

“You run on now and take care of those meat pies,” Mrs. Cosgrove said, holding her cheek up to Noah for a kiss. “I’ll see you later.”

And before Noah could protest, she turned and walked back to the house.

Noah watched her go, and Shauntelle could see that he was torn.

“We don’t have to do this,” she said. “You can bring me straight to my parents’ place, and then come back sooner.”

He turned to her with a wry smile. “She’d never let me come back until I was done helping you, so we may as well carry on.”

His smile made him look more approachable. And his attitude around his mother generated a rift in her own feelings toward him.

But she shook that off. She couldn’t afford to let herself get soft around him.

She had her children to think of, her business to plan and her parents to comfort and support.