The Delivery of Decor (Shiloh Ridge Ranch in Three Rivers #7) - Liz Isaacson Page 0,120

didn’t mind a man who came with kids. She wanted a man who wanted her kids.

“I really just want someone with a good heart. Someone who loves Texas, loves God, and can put up with literally twenty-five people at family dinners.”

“Someone who can make you a mom,” Ida added quietly.

Etta took a breath. “Who knows if that will even happen?” she asked, vocalizing the thought that had been plaguing her for months. “I mean, look at Oakley and Ranger. They want kids so badly. More than me, even. And they have such a hard time getting pregnant.”

Judy squirmed, her face scrunching up as she started to cry. Etta’s focus shifted, and Ida got up and took Johnny. That way, Etta could focus on the fussy little girl.

“She needs to be fed,” Ida said. “Then she’ll sleep for a little bit, and we can talk about your outfit and what you’re going to do with your hair on Friday.”

Relief hit Etta again, because she did need help with her clothes and hair. “I don’t want to come across as too stuffy.”

“I won’t let you,” Ida promised as she moved into the kitchen.

Etta got up and followed her, and together, they made a bottle each for the baby in their arms. “Don’t think I don’t know that you gave me the pukey baby,” Etta said, hipping her sister as she took Judy back into the living room.

“I don’t have a clean shirt in the whole house,” Ida said, following her. “I can’t afford for her to throw up on this one.”

Etta giggled and gave the bottle to Judy. “Here you go, baby. You’re such a good girl, aren’t you? You aren’t going to puke on the bestest aunt in the world, are you? No. No, you’re not.”

“Oh, she is,” Ida assured her. “Count on it.”

Etta smiled at the little girl, because she was perfection, with Ida’s nose and a tiny little chin the shape of all the Glovers she’d have to grow into. “Ida?” she asked, looking up.

Ida looked up from her son. “Hmm?”

“I don’t want a word about me using the app or going out with Marshall at the luncheon.”

“Cross my heart and hope to die,” Ida said, repeating something they’d said as little girls. Etta grinned at her, and they both went back to taking care of the baby in their arms.

Etta had held onto her relationship with Noah Johnson too, and she couldn’t help thinking that maybe she should tell all the ranch ladies about Marshall. She’d have gone out with him by the time they met next week.

Willa was hosting the luncheon this month out at the Edge Cabin, and it would be easy for Etta to tell them all on the group text they shared only with each other. Her brothers and male cousins wouldn’t need to know.

They wouldn’t care anyway, Etta thought. She’d considered telling Cactus, who was the best of anyone at keeping secrets. He also had great advice, and Etta had grown closer to him since she’d left Noah standing at the altar by himself, her entire family staring him in the face.

In the end, Etta decided she’d keep Marshall a secret for just a little longer. She wanted to meet him first, and she didn’t need the pressure of eight people asking her how the date had gone before it had even ended.

That decided, Etta went back to her duties of bestest aunt, a title she took seriously and would be working to maintain for years to come.

Preorder THE BLESSINGS OF BABIES, Book 8 in this series, which will keep you updated with all the babies and happenings with the women at Shiloh Ridge Ranch.

Sneak Peek! The Networking of the Nativity, Chapter One:

Judge Glover put the last bite of his scrambled eggs in his mouth just as the door that led into the garage opened. Out of the two men he lived with—his cousin Ward and his brother Mister—he’d prefer it to be Ward.

He’d been getting along just fine with Mister since they’d made up several months ago. The younger man annoyed Judge from time to time—or all the time lately—but he kept his mouth shut.

He didn’t tease his brother the way he would’ve in the past. He didn’t play tricks on him—or anyone—anymore. It had taken him an extra-long time to mature, but he’d done it.

Mister walked in, a sour look on his face. Instant annoyance sprouted inside Judge. Still, he said, “Morning,” and got up to wash the ketchup off his