say that again.” Ty willingly surrendered the other baby into Sally’s reaching arms. “She has made it plain from the first day that when she wants something, she wants it now.”
“It doesn’t work that way, sweetheart,” Cat murmured and cupped a hand over the back of the baby’s head, pressing a kiss on the downy soft cap of hair, the palest shade of gold.
Quint tugged at her pant leg. In response, Cat sank onto the sofa’s leather cushion to give him a closer look at the baby. “Meet your cousin Laura, Quint.”
“Why’s she crying?” he wanted to know.
“Because she’s hungry.”
Quint thought about that a minute, then stated, “She’s awfully loud.”
“She certainly is,” Sally Brogan agreed. “But not this little guy.” Gently she steered the baby’s flailing fist closer to its mouth, allowing him to gnaw on it between hungry whimpers. “Just look at all the hair you’ve got.” She stroked a finger over his thick shock of hair, as dark as his sister’s was fair. “What did you name him again?”
“Chase Benteen Calder the Third,” Ty replied. “And the demanding one is Laura Marie Calder.”
“Chase and Laura,” Sally repeated in approval as Jessy entered the living room, carrying the bottles of warmed formula.
Despite the warm light of motherhood in her eyes, Jessy had the telltale weary and harried look of a new mother. She offered only token resistance when the two women insisted on feeding the pair. She sat down next to Ty and watched, not quite able to completely relax.
Sally glanced up from the nursing baby in her arms and looked around. “Where’s Chase?”
“He’s in the kitchen, adding the finishing touches to dinner,” Jessy answered, then added with a hint of guilt, “He keeps saying that he doesn’t mind, that it reminds him of his bachelor days when he did a lot of his own cooking.”
Cat sent Jessy a questioning glance. “Where’s Audrey?” Audrey Simpson had taken over much of the housekeeping and cooking duties from Ruth Haskell years ago.
“Cat, I’m sorry,” Ty said with quick regret. “In all the confusion of bringing the twins home, I forgot to let you know that Bob Simpson was rushed to the hospital in Miles City yesterday morning. He’s suffered a stroke.”
Cat breathed in sharply then murmured, “How bad is it?”
“Severe. He can’t talk, and the doctors are still trying to determine the extent of his paralysis.”
“Poor Audrey,” Cat murmured in sympathy.
“Let’s hope it isn’t true that bad news comes in threes.” Logan stood by the large stone fireplace, where a cheery fire blazed.
“Why?” Chase joined the group in the living room.
“The word reached Blue Moon yesterday that E.J. Dyson had passed away. He had a massive heart attack and died within seconds.”
His announcement was met by a heavy silence. It was Cat who finally broke it. “I can’t help thinking what a terrible blow this has to be to Tara. You know how extremely close she was to her father, Ty.”
“I know.” It had been a source of contention during his marriage to Tara. But this did not seem like the time to recall that. “I suppose it would be appropriate to send flowers.”
“I don’t know why not,” Cat retorted, flashing her father a look that dared him to dispute it. “The funeral services will be held on Wednesday. Weather permitting, I plan to fly to Fort Worth on Tuesday and attend the services on behalf of the family.”
Ty doubted that his father liked the idea any better than he did. But it was useless to argue with Cat when she had her mind set on something. Her decision didn’t really surprise Ty. Right or wrong, Cat had always thought a lot of Tara. More than that, she wasn’t asking permission from either of them.
“I imagine Tara would appreciate your being there,” Ty remarked instead. Although, knowing Tara, he wasn’t sure whether she would care or not. But it was important to Cat to make this
“It doesn’t work that way, sweetheart,” Cat murmured and cupped a hand over the back of the baby’s head, pressing a kiss on the downy soft cap of hair, the palest shade of gold.
Quint tugged at her pant leg. In response, Cat sank onto the sofa’s leather cushion to give him a closer look at the baby. “Meet your cousin Laura, Quint.”
“Why’s she crying?” he wanted to know.
“Because she’s hungry.”
Quint thought about that a minute, then stated, “She’s awfully loud.”
“She certainly is,” Sally Brogan agreed. “But not this little guy.” Gently she steered the baby’s flailing fist closer to its mouth, allowing him to gnaw on it between hungry whimpers. “Just look at all the hair you’ve got.” She stroked a finger over his thick shock of hair, as dark as his sister’s was fair. “What did you name him again?”
“Chase Benteen Calder the Third,” Ty replied. “And the demanding one is Laura Marie Calder.”
“Chase and Laura,” Sally repeated in approval as Jessy entered the living room, carrying the bottles of warmed formula.
Despite the warm light of motherhood in her eyes, Jessy had the telltale weary and harried look of a new mother. She offered only token resistance when the two women insisted on feeding the pair. She sat down next to Ty and watched, not quite able to completely relax.
Sally glanced up from the nursing baby in her arms and looked around. “Where’s Chase?”
“He’s in the kitchen, adding the finishing touches to dinner,” Jessy answered, then added with a hint of guilt, “He keeps saying that he doesn’t mind, that it reminds him of his bachelor days when he did a lot of his own cooking.”
Cat sent Jessy a questioning glance. “Where’s Audrey?” Audrey Simpson had taken over much of the housekeeping and cooking duties from Ruth Haskell years ago.
“Cat, I’m sorry,” Ty said with quick regret. “In all the confusion of bringing the twins home, I forgot to let you know that Bob Simpson was rushed to the hospital in Miles City yesterday morning. He’s suffered a stroke.”
Cat breathed in sharply then murmured, “How bad is it?”
“Severe. He can’t talk, and the doctors are still trying to determine the extent of his paralysis.”
“Poor Audrey,” Cat murmured in sympathy.
“Let’s hope it isn’t true that bad news comes in threes.” Logan stood by the large stone fireplace, where a cheery fire blazed.
“Why?” Chase joined the group in the living room.
“The word reached Blue Moon yesterday that E.J. Dyson had passed away. He had a massive heart attack and died within seconds.”
His announcement was met by a heavy silence. It was Cat who finally broke it. “I can’t help thinking what a terrible blow this has to be to Tara. You know how extremely close she was to her father, Ty.”
“I know.” It had been a source of contention during his marriage to Tara. But this did not seem like the time to recall that. “I suppose it would be appropriate to send flowers.”
“I don’t know why not,” Cat retorted, flashing her father a look that dared him to dispute it. “The funeral services will be held on Wednesday. Weather permitting, I plan to fly to Fort Worth on Tuesday and attend the services on behalf of the family.”
Ty doubted that his father liked the idea any better than he did. But it was useless to argue with Cat when she had her mind set on something. Her decision didn’t really surprise Ty. Right or wrong, Cat had always thought a lot of Tara. More than that, she wasn’t asking permission from either of them.
“I imagine Tara would appreciate your being there,” Ty remarked instead. Although, knowing Tara, he wasn’t sure whether she would care or not. But it was important to Cat to make this
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