A Cowboy to Call Daddy (The Boones of Texas 4)

“The kitten is a her,” he explained.

“Like me.” Ivy was all smiles, giggling as the kitten rubbed its head under her chin.

He smiled back. “But you don’t have a tail.”

Ivy giggled, and the sweet freedom of it washed over him.

“Or whiskers,” he added.

She giggled harder. Downright adorable. What had she said? Prettiful.

“Or stripes,” she said, still giggling.

He nodded.

“What’s she doing?” Ivy asked, bending her head so she could listen to the kitten.

“She’s purring,” he explained. “Means she’s happy.”

Ivy tried to purr, giggling again. “I’m happy, too.”

“I see that,” he said, squatting beside her.

“Can we be farmers, too? I want to stay here.” She rubbed the kitten against her cheek. “Momma’s happy. She doesn’t cry.”

Archer felt like he’d been kicked in the gut. “She cries at home?”

Ivy nodded, leaning forward to whisper. “Grandpa’s grumpy and yells. Momma works lots.” Ivy’s simple honesty tore at his insides.

Eden cries. She feels trapped. She’s not happy. But in his arms, she’d come alive. He’d felt it. Maybe this is where she needed to be. He was beginning to accept that’s where he wanted her to be.

“Momma needs a kitten,” Ivy said.

Archer grinned. “Think it’ll help?” he asked.

Ivy tried to purr again.

“A kitten’s a lot of work,” he said. “Might need to talk to your momma before you take this one home.”

Ivy frowned, nodding.

“She’s with Archer.” His father suddenly appeared and was out of breath.

“Oh, Ivy, we were looking for you,” Clara said, pushing Lily in the stroller. “I know you like the kittens, but you must stay with us.”

Ivy sighed, her shoulders drooping. “Sorry. She meowed at me.”

Archer exchanged a smile with his father.

“Kittens’ll do that, Ivy. Especially to sweet, pretty girls like you,” his father said. “Let’s get you home so you can tell your momma all about the kitten.”

“Where is she?” Archer asked.

“Working,” his father said.

Archer frowned. Ivy’s recent declarations made him wish she were here, enjoying her daughters, instead of poring over his books in a dingy closet-turned-office.

“She knows how important this is, son.” His father clapped a hand on his shoulder. “But she didn’t eat much this morning.” His voice was low.