all his scowling and disapproval hard to hang on to.
The blonde carrying the baby stepped in behind Laurel, followed by Grady.
“Noah,” Laurel said with one of those smiles that were a clear and sad attempt to get him to smile back.
He didn’t.
“Noah Carson, this is your new housekeeper, Addie Foster, and her son, Seth. Addie, this is Noah. Ignore the gruff Wyoming cowboy exterior. He’s a teddy bear underneath.”
Noah grunted and Grady laughed. “Ease up there, princess. No one’s going to believe that.”
Laurel shot Grady a disapproving look. “The point is, Noah will be a fair and, if not pleasant, a kind employer. Won’t you, Noah?”
He grunted again. Then looked at the blonde. “Thought you were a Delaney.”
“Oh, well.” Addie smiled, or tried to. “Sort of. My grandfather was one.” She waved a nervous hand, her eyes darting all around and not settling on any one thing.
“I’ll show you to your room, and Noah and Grady can bring in the baby stuff,” Laurel said cheerfully, already leading Addie and baby down the hall like she owned the place.
“Come on, let’s get the stuff,” Grady said once the women were gone.
“Remember when this was my house because I was the only one willing to work the ranch full time?” Noah glanced back at where the two women had disappeared. “Your woman’s going to get baby ideas,” he muttered.
Grady scoffed, but Noah noted that he didn’t argue.
Which was to be expected, Noah supposed, but Noah hated change. Especially uncomfortable change. People change.
“You don’t have to be prickly about it. You’re going to have a clean house and a few home-cooked meals. Try a thank-you.”
“You know me a lot better than that,” Noah returned as they opened the trunk to Laurel’s car.
Grady sighed, grabbing a stroller. “Laurel thinks Addie’s in a bit of trouble.”
“What kind of trouble?”
“Laurel’s theory? Abusive husband.”
“Hell,” Noah grumbled. He didn’t know what to do with babies, and he definitely didn’t know what to do with a fragile woman who’d been the victim of abuse.
“She just needs a fresh start is all. Somewhere she feels safe. I’ll keep an eye out for any other jobs that’ll work while she’s got the baby, but this is important. And it isn’t like you don’t need the help.”
“It isn’t that bad.”
Grady looked at him dolefully as they hefted a menagerie of baby things out of Laurel’s trunk and headed toward the house. “Pretty sure you were wearing that shirt yesterday, cousin.”
Noah looked down at the faded flannel work shirt. “No, I wasn’t.” Maybe. He didn’t mind doing laundry, but he hated folding laundry, and then the clean and dirty sometimes got a little mixed up if they weren’t muck clothes.
Grady stepped inside, but Noah paused on the stairs. He looked back over his shoulder at the mountains in the distance. Clouds were beginning to form and roll, and there’d be a hell of a storm coming for them soon enough.
On a sigh, Noah stepped inside. This was his idea of a nightmare, but he wasn’t a jerk who couldn’t put his own wants and preferences on the back burner for someone in trouble. If the woman and the baby were really running from some no-good piece-of-trash ex...
He’d suck it up. He might be growly and taciturn, but he wasn’t a bad guy. Not when it came to things like this. She might be related to a Delaney, but he knew what violence could do to a family. Carsons couldn’t help but know that, and he’d promised himself he wouldn’t be like them.
Somehow it had worked out. This generation of Carsons wasn’t half as bad as the last, if a little wild, but he and Grady and Ty stood up for people who couldn’t stand up for themselves. He wouldn’t stop now.
Even if the woman and her baby did have Delaney in their blood.
Noah walked down the hall and into the room where Grady was already setting up all the baby gear for Addie while Laurel cooed over the baby in her arms. Noah gave Grady a pointed look but Grady ignored it.
“Well, we better get going and let you have some settle-in time,” Laurel said, looking around the room as if inspecting it. “You can call me day or night. Whatever you need, or Seth needs.”
“Thanks,” Addie said, and Noah tried not to frown over the tears shimmering in the woman’s eyes. Hell, female tears were the worst thing. Laurel and Addie hugged, the baby between them, before Grady and Laurel left. Laurel paused in front of Noah.
“Thank you,” she mouthed, holding a hand over her heart.
Noah merely scowled, but the annoying thing about Laurel was she was never fooled by things like that. She seemed to be under the impression he was the nicest one of the lot.
Noah hated that she was right.
“So, I’ll leave you to settle in,” Noah offered, not expressly making eye contact considering this was a bedroom. “Need anything, let me know.”
“Oh, but... Shouldn’t I be saying that to you? I mean, shouldn’t we go over duties? Since Laurel and Grady set this up, I...I’m not sure what you expect of me.” She bounced the baby on her hip, but Noah figured it was more nerves than trying to keep the boy from fussing.
He tried to smile, though even if he’d accomplished it he knew it was hard to see beyond the beard. “We can do it in the morning.”
She blinked at him, all wide blue-eyed innocence. “I’d like to do it now. This is a job, and I should be working it.”
“It’s Sunday. Rule number one, you don’t work on Sunday.”
“What do I do then?”
“I don’t care, but I’ll cook my own meals and clean up after myself on Sundays. Understood?”
She nodded. “What’s rule number two?”
Timid. He did not know what to do with timid, but he was being forced. Well, maybe he needed to treat her like a skittish horse. Horse training wasn’t his expertise, but he understood enough about the animals to know they needed a clear leader, routine and the opportunity to build their confidence.
Noah glanced at the hopeful young woman and tried not to grimace.
“I have a checklist,” she blurted.
“A checklist?”
“Yes, of duties. Of things I do for people. When I’m housekeeping. I... You...”
The sinking feeling that had been plaguing him since Grady announced his and Laurel’s little plan that morning sank deeper. “You haven’t done this before, have you?”
“Oh.” She looked everywhere around the room except him. “Um. Well. Sort of.”
“Sort of?”
“I...I can cook, and clean. I just haven’t ever been on a ranch, or lived in someone else’s house as their employee. So that’s, um, well, it’s super weird.” She glanced at the kid in her arms. “And I have a baby. Which is weird.”
“Super weird,” he intoned.
She blinked up at him, some of that anxiety softening in her features. “If you tell me what you want me to do, I promise I can do it. I’m just not sure what you expect. Or want.”
“I’ll make you up a checklist.”
She opened her mouth, then closed it, then opened it again. “I’m sorry, was that a joke? I can’t exactly