âItâs the only time he gets his fingernails clean.â
âCan you dry, Soph?â Emily asked.
âSure.â
Ty didnât glance her way. Standing beside her at the sink would be almost as horrible as sitting next to her, almost as hideous as an early morning ride down a sunlit trail or earning an A on a poetry project.
âIâll feed little Lumpkin then,â Colt said.
âLumpkin?â Emily glanced at him.
The cowboy shrugged. âIâm running out of names.â
âIâm sure glad I didnât ask for your input for Bliss.â
âWell, I would have come up with something better than . . .â He glanced at the far wall, apparently thinking back to the traumatic months before the babyâs birth. âIxapos.â
âI was never going to name her Ixapos.â
âIâm pretty sure it was in the mix for a while,â Colt said. âSophie, wasnât Ixapos one of the ten thousand options?â
âIâm not sure,â she said, pouring the freshly rehydrated milk into a funnel that sat atop a glass bottle. âBut I do remember an Enheduanna.â
âEnheduanna.â Colt nodded. âThat was it.â
âWell, yeah! She was the first known author. Itâs a revered nomenclature,â Emily said, using some of the ten-dollar words sheâd practiced almost constantly during her pregnancy.
âWere you hoping to scar her for life or justââ
âHere you go,â Sophie said and handed the bottle to Colt before hurrying out of the room. âIâll be right back.â
âAnd wasnât there a Beelzebub?â Colt asked, raising his voice after the departing girl. But she was already out of hearing.
âOh, for Peteâs sake, there was no Beelzebub,â Emily said.
âIâm pretty sure youâre wrong.â
âWhy would I name her after the devil?â Emily asked and plunked the baby into Casieâs arms. Bliss stared at her, dark eyes serious as storm clouds beneath gathered brows.
Casieâs expression softened. Reaching up, she smoothed her hand over the babyâs downy head, then sighed and closed her eyes as she cuddled Bliss against her heart.
The kitchen went silent. Colt stood absolutely motionless, watching, expression unguarded as he held the forgotten bottle in one large hand.
Ty glanced at Emily. Her eyes gleamed as if sheâd just won the lotto, but in a second Colt jerked toward her with a scowl.
She struggled to squelch her grin.
âBethany,â she said.
âWhat?â
âI was going to name her Bethany.â
âWho are you trying to kid?â he asked, seeming to come back to himself with some difficulty. âYou never considered a single normal name in the whole twelve months you were pregnant.â
âGestationâs only nine months,â she reminded him.
âWell, it seemed like twelve.â
âYou should try carrying an elephant around in your belly.â
âNo matter how long it took, you did a first-rate job,â Casie said and smoothed the babyâs hair behind one seashell ear.
âYeah,â Colt agreed, staring at the duo on the nearby chair. âNot half bad.â
âDo you want to hold her?â Casie asked.
Their gazes met for a second, calling a truce to whatever argument they had shared.
Time stood still. The expression on Coltâs face was inexplicable, a nearly painful blend of hope and hopelessness. It made Ty almost hurt for him, though God knew there would never be anyone good enough for Casie Carmichael.
âWhat? No!â Colt said, finally shaking himself free from Casieâs gaze. âIâm a manly man. Manly men donât hold babies.â
âSheâs really soft,â Casie said, and turning her face toward Bliss, drew in a deep breath. âAnd sweet-smelling.â
âI like things hard,â Colt said. âAnd
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