Cowboy Daddy. Carolyne Aarsen

      “You’re a good man, Kip, and you’re an even better brother.”

      She smiled. “I don’t know many men who would let their brother and two little boys move in with him when he already had a mother and a sister to take care of.”

      Kip glanced over at Nicole, her soft smile easing into his soul. Then puzzlement took over. “Why are you telling me this? Aren’t you supposed to be making me out to be the bad guy?” His eyes skimmed over her face, then met her gaze.

      She didn’t look away. “You’re not the bad guy.”

      Kip didn’t reply, not sure what to make of her. Was she flirting with him?

      “You just happen to be caught in a bad situation.” Then she looked away.

      What was she doing? Was she playing him?

      He wasn’t sure what to think. Then he glanced over at her. She was watching him again. That had been happening a lot lately, but this time as their eyes met, he felt a deeper, surprising emotion.

      More than appeal. More than attraction….

      CAROLYNE AARSEN

      and her husband, Richard, live on a small ranch in northern Alberta, where they have raised four children and numerous foster children and are still raising cattle. Carolyne crafts her stories in her office with a large west-facing window through which she can watch the changing seasons while struggling to make her words obey.

      Cowboy Daddy

      Carolyne Aarsen

      Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest.

      —Matthew 11: 28

      To Elin and Annely, who have brought a new dimension of love to our lives.

      Contents

      Chapter One

      Chapter Two

      Chapter Three

      Chapter Four

      Chapter Five

      Chapter Six

      Chapter Seven

      Chapter Eight

      Chapter Nine

      Chapter Ten

      Chapter Eleven

      Chapter Twelve

      Chapter Thirteen

      Chapter Fourteen

      Chapter Fifteen

      Chapter Sixteen

      Epilogue

      Letter to Reader

      Questions for Discussion

      Chapter One

      What in the world was this about?

      “Housekeeper wanted.” The words were handwritten, and the notice was tacked up on the bulletin board in Millarville’s post office.

      Kip Cosgrove ripped the notice down and glared at it, recognizing his younger sister’s handwriting. What was Isabelle doing? Where did she get the idea that he needed a housekeeper?

      Kip crumpled the paper and threw it in the garbage can of the post office, hoping not too many people had read it.

      He spun around, almost bumping into an older woman.

      “Hey, Kip, how’s your mom?” she asked. “I read on the church bulletin that she had knee surgery.”

      “She’s in a lot of pain,” Kip said with a vague smile, taking another step toward the door. He didn’t have time for Millarville chitchat. Not with two rambunctious five-year-old boys waiting for him in his truck parked outside the door and a sister to bawl out. “I’ll tell her you said hello.”

      He tipped his cowboy hat, then jogged over to his truck. He had to get home before anyone responded to the advertisement.

      “What’s the matter, Uncle Kip?”

      “Are you mad?”

      Justin and Tristan leaned over the front seat of the truck, their faces showing the remnants of the Popsicles he’d given them as a bribe to be quiet on the long trip back from Calgary.

      “Buckle up again, you guys,” was all he said. He started up the truck, too many things running through his head. Besides looking after his mom and his rebellious younger sister, he had a tractor to fix, hay to haul, horses’ hooves to trim and cows to move. And that was today’s to-do list.

      He managed to ignore the boys tussling in the backseat as he headed down the road, lists and things crowding into his head. Maybe his sister wasn’t so wrong in thinking they needed a housekeeper. Even just someone to watch the boys.

      No, he reminded himself. Isabelle could do that.

      He hunched his shoulders, planning his “you’re sixteen-years-old and you can help out over the summer” lecture that he’d already had with his sister once before. Now he had to do it again.

      The road made a long, slow bend, and as it straightened, he sighed. The land eased away from the road, green fields giving way to rolling hills. Peaks of granite dusted with snow thrust up behind them, starkly beautiful against the warm blue of the endless sky.

      The Rocky Mountains of Southern Alberta. His beloved home.

      Kip slowed, as he always did, letting the beauty seep into his soul. But only for a couple of seconds, as a scream from the back pushed his foot a little farther down on the accelerator.

      “Justin, go sit down.” Kip shot his nephew another warning glance as he turned onto the ranch’s driveway.

      “Someone is here,” Justin yelled, falling over the front seat almost kicking Kip in the face with his cowboy boots, spreading dirt all over the front seat.

      Kip pulled to a stop beside an unfamiliar small car. It didn’t belong to his other sister, Doreen, that much he knew. Doreen and her husband, Alex, had gone with a full-size van for their brood of eight.

      Probably one of his mother’s many friends had come to visit. Then his teeth clenched when he noticed that the farm truck was missing, which meant Isabelle was gone. Which also meant she hadn’t cleaned the house like he’d told her to.

      The boys tumbled out of the truck and Kip headed up the stairs to intercept them before they burst in on his mother’s visit. No sense giving the women of Millarville one more thing to gossip about. Kip and those poor, sad little fatherless boys, so out of control. So sad.

      Just as he caught their hands, the door of the house opened.

      An unfamiliar woman stood framed by the doorway, the late-afternoon sun burnishing her smooth hair, pulled tightly back from a perfectly heart-shaped face. Her porcelain skin, high cheekbones, narrow nose and soft lips gave her an ethereal look at odds with the crisp blue blazer, white shirt and blue dress pants. It was the faintest hint of mystery in her gray-green eyes, however, that caught and held his attention.

      What was this beautiful woman doing in his house?

      She held up her hands as if to appease him. “Your sister, Isabelle, invited me in. Said you were looking for a housekeeper?” The husky note in her voice created a curious sense of intimacy.

      Kip groaned inwardly. He’d taken down the notice too late. “And you are?”

      “My name is Nicole.”

      “Kip Cosgrove.” He held out his hand. Her handshake was firm, which gave him a bit more confidence.

      “I’m