The Delivery of Decor (Shiloh Ridge Ranch in Three Rivers #7) - Liz Isaacson Page 0,64

call him back about the gravel. She’d found him arrogant and demanding in the beginning. She’d driven him absolutely mad.

But now…now he knew more about what made her tick, and while she wasn’t perfect—no one was—Ward could see her fitting neatly inside his life for a good long while.

“Doughnuts at the homestead,” someone yelled, and a cheer went up.

“Check off with Ward,” Preacher yelled, and Ward got out his clipboard. Pair by pair, he checked off the things that had gotten done on the ranch that day.

Cattle secure.

Horses fed.

Chicken coop mended.

Chickens and turkeys fed.

Fences fixed on the north side.

Cowboy cabin roof repaired.

Windmill taken down for rebuilding later.

The list went on and on, with most of their physical facilities issues having to do with fences that had been compromised by the wind. The taller structures had some damage too, but the barns and stables had weathered the storm quite well.

“Come on,” Ward finally said as he made the last checkmark. “Let’s go see if Holly Ann saved us a doughnut or two.” She usually did, because Ward had been the one to call her and tell her to come to Bull House so she could make up with Ace after they’d broken up.

“How do you know Holly Ann made the doughnuts?” Dot asked.

“I assumed,” he said. “Sounds like something she’d do.”

“Does it bother you that I can’t cook?”

“No,” he said.

“Are you sure?”

“Does it bother you that I’m bossy?” he asked. “What difference does it make? I’m going to keep ordering the cowboys around the way I do, just like you’re not going to suddenly know how to make doughnuts.”

Dot blinked at him, and Ward had obviously made the wrong move. Given the wrong answer. “I mean—”

“But does it bother you?” she interrupted. “Maybe I would take a cooking class.” She indicated that he should drive over to the homestead, and he took her around to the passenger door. “I don’t know what you’d do to sweeten up.” She grinned at him and reached up to force his collar to lie flat. “But maybe you don’t need to. Your men and women seem to love you.”

“I pay them well,” he said. “So they put up with me.”

“Mm.” Dot studied him, but Ward didn’t like the scrutiny. He opened her door and let her climb in while he went around to the driver’s side.

She said nothing on the way to the homestead, and it was a two-minute drive that Ward had done countless times. He pulled up to a regular barn raising crowd, and Dot got out before he could move a muscle. The truck door slammed behind her, and Ward wondered if he’d said something wrong by not saying anything at all.

“Lord,” he said, leaning his head back and closing his eyes. “Do I need to sweeten up?”

His door opened, and Dot stood there. “Come on, cowboy. The doughnuts are almost gone.”

Ward woke up when Dot left the bathroom for the fifth time that night. He wasn’t sure why, as her presence in the house the other two nights hadn’t bothered him. He’d slept like the dead.

Tonight, though, she seemed to be using the bathroom a lot, and his worry ate at him. He’d read a little bit about type-2 diabetes and what it meant to have high blood sugar and low blood sugar.

Dot had taken her readings every hour after her episode at lunchtime, and she’d assured him that her sugar levels supported the doughnut she’d eaten. She had made hamburgers for dinner, and she’d excused herself to inject her insulin before they’d taken a single bite.

She knows what she’s doing, he thought, and he rolled over so his back faced his open doorway. He thought of Bear and how the man liked to don a red cape and fly in to save the day.

Don’t be Bear. Ward closed his eyes and commanded himself to go back to sleep. Unfortunately, sleep didn’t work that way, and while he was exhausted, he didn’t seem to be getting any closer to unconsciousness.

He glanced at his alarm clock—the old school kind with the bright blue neon numbers—and sighed. Two a.m. He’d slept for a couple of hours on the couch while Dot had texted her brother and sister, then her mother. She’d finally put him to bed and gone to bed herself. Ward felt like he’d been dozing since then. Awake for a few minutes, asleep for a few.

The bathroom door down the hall closed again, and Ward sat up this time. He crept