Theodore closed his eyes briefly and groaned. It had been a week since Timmy and Isabel had come to live with him on the ranch.
What was I thinking?
He sighed heavily as Timmy let out another loud cry, reminding Theodore of the task at hand. In his mind, his plan had seemed simple and logical. He would have a woman who would help keep the house for him and cook the meals while providing him with a ready-made heir.
I would raise the baby as though he was my own son and teach him how to run the ranch. Eventually, I would pass the ranch on to him. Otherwise, I would just keep my distance from them.
He looked down at the latest concoction Abigail had sworn would soothe Timmy’s teething pain. The constant wailing that had filled the house for the past several days had pushed Theodore almost to his breaking point. He was just about ready to bunk with Jacob.
This isn’t what I had in mind when I brought Isabel and the baby to live with us.
He’d asked Isabel at least forty times why the baby continued to cry all night long. Her answer was always the same. “He’s teething. I tried rubbing whiskey on his gums like I did when his bottom teeth came in, but it doesn’t seem to be working.”
Theodore heard the exhaustion in her voice each time he asked why the baby wouldn’t stop crying. He knew that his asking the question over and over again was probably getting on her nerves, although she hadn’t said anything and never betrayed those thoughts and feelings to him. She was just as patient with him as she was with the baby.
That gave him a little pang of guilt because he hadn’t been so nice to her. He had treated her like some kind of nasty insect he wanted nothing to do with.
They asked Abigail for help. His cousin had recommended several different concoctions that she said would help. So far, four out of four of those remedies had been failures. A couple of them seemed to make Timmy scream louder.
Timmy’s cries seemed to reach a new pitch from Isabel’s bedroom, filling the house with the sound that was about to drive Theodore completely insane. He winced as the screeching pierced his ears and his soul. Sighing heavily, Theodore put the finishing touches on the final remedy Abigail had recommended.
Heavens above, please let this work. I honestly don’t know how much more of this I can handle.
Theodore could hear Isabel trying to soothe the baby, her voice soft. He could hear the exhaustion in her voice, even through the closed door. “Hush, baby. I know it hurts. Daddy’s making something that will help. I promise it will help this time.” Her voice could barely be heard over the baby’s cries.
His heart thumped when Isabel called him Daddy.
That’s what I am.
It was still new to him and a shock when he realized that he was, legally and technically, Timmy’s father. The sleepless nights, though, made him wonder if he was ready for all of this.
I guess it’s too late for that now. That ship has sailed.
He shook his head and finished mixing the ingredients. The mixture of herbs, honey, and a smidge of whiskey looked disgusting and smelled worse. It was more like something his cattle left on the prairie in a steaming pile.
Theodore had been interacting with the baby a lot more, spending time with him and cooing at him. He, with Jacob’s help, had even made Timmy a crib so Isabel wouldn’t have to worry about him falling out of the bed or her rolling over on top of him and smothering him. No one had been more surprised than Theodore when he discovered he genuinely cared for the baby.
The door creaked open, and Isabel appeared, holding the crying baby close. She gently bounced him in her arms, hoping to calm him just a little. It didn’t work. He was crying so loudly that Theodore was sure that the folks in town could hear him.
Isabel’s hair, which was usually neatly pinned back in a bun, was coming loose, blonde wisps of hair framing her pale face. Shadows under her eyes marred her beautiful face, a testament to the fact that she hadn’t been getting any sleep.
“Is it ready?” Her voice was hoarse from the countless hours of lullabies and comforting words she had offered Timmy.
He admired her because she never once lost her temper or patience with the baby. She always spoke to him kindly and gently, holding him, walking the floor with him, or rocking him in an effort to get him to calm down.
Theodore nodded. “I just finished it.” He held up the small bowl containing the concoction.
Isabel walked over to the bowl, shifting Timmy in her arms. Tears rolled down Timmy’s red, sweaty face. His little fists were clenched.
Theodore felt his chest tighten. He hated being helpless to make Timmy’s pain go away.
“Let me,” Theodore said as Isabel started to dip her finger into the gooey mess.
Her jaw dropped, and her eyes opened wide. Her shocked look mirrored his own feelings. He had no idea what had come over him.
He dipped his finger into the mixture and gently rubbed it on Timmy’s swollen top gums and then his bottom gums for good measure. The baby squirmed at first and cried even harder, even though Theodore didn’t think that was possible. Gradually, though, the baby’s cries softened and ended. He hiccupped and laid his head against Isabel’s chest.
Theodore watched with bated breath as Timmy relaxed and his eyelids drooped. The baby’s breath evened out, and he fell asleep.
Isabel let out a shaky breath. “Thank goodness,” she whispered, trying not to wake Timmy. “I was beginning to think that he wasn’t ever going to stop crying.”
She held him very still for a few minutes, hardly daring to breathe, likely afraid that the slightest movement would make him wake up and start screaming all over again.
He let out a soft sigh and plopped his thumb into his mouth. Isabel tiptoed back to the bedroom, placed Timmy in his brand-new crib, and tucked a soft blanket around him. Silently, they stood next to each other, watching the rise and fall of Timmy’s chest as he peacefully slept.
Theodore felt a wave of relief flowing over him. The silence in the room was such a stark contrast to the constant crying that it was almost tangible. Without even thinking, he reached in and softly caressed Timmy’s cheek, marveling at how adorable he was.
Theodore glanced at Isabel, taking in her tired but contented expression. They tiptoed out of the room, trying not to make a sound. Theodore winced when he heard one of the boards creak beneath his feet.
Quietly, she shut the door behind them. They walked over to the couch, and both of them plopped down on it at the same time.
They look at each other. Isabel’s hair was a mess, with exhaustion etched on her face. He knew that he probably didn’t look much better.
Her lips twitched, and she giggled. Theodore couldn’t prevent the chuckle that escaped. Soon, they were both laughing, trying to keep quiet. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d laughed like this, but it felt good.
Isabel wiped tears from her eyes, her shoulders shaking from the laughter. “Wow. I didn’t think the crying would ever stop. I’m going to nominate Abigail for sainthood.”
“I’m with you. I honestly thought about riding over to her place, kidnapping her, and keeping her here until she figured out how to make him stop crying.”
This set off another round of laughter.
Theodore thought about how natural this felt—to sit with Isabel, relax, and simply enjoy the moment after days of stress. For the first time since she showed up with Timmy, he felt like they were really a team.
The laughter subsided, and they sat quietly on the couch. She covered her mouth, yawning widely. “Goodness, I’m so exhausted.” Her voice was thick with the fatigue he felt.
Theodore looked at the clock on the mantle. “We still have a few hours of sleep until sunrise, if the baby will stay asleep that long.”
“He should because he hadn’t got any more rest than we have,” Isabel said hopefully.
Theodore stood up and stretched. “We should try to get some sleep while we can.”
Isabel nodded, her eyelids already drooping. “You’re right. Good night.”
“Good night, Isabel.” He walked toward his bedroom door but didn’t hear Isabel get up to go into her room.
Looking back, he saw that Isabel had already fallen asleep on the couch, her head tilted at an awkward angle that promised a major neck ache in the morning.
Without thinking about what he was doing, he gently moved Isabel so her head was lying on a pillow and her feet were on the couch. He grabbed the blanket draped over the back and carefully covered Isabel with it.
As he stepped back, he froze, suddenly aware of what he had just done. He stared at Isabel’s peacefully sleeping face, illuminated by the fire burning in the hearth.
Why did I just do that? It would have been easier to wake her up so she could go to bed in her own room.
Confused by his own actions, Theodore went into his room, changed, and fell into his bed, completely exhausted.