nap right here.”
“I’ll come help in the kitchen,” Mother said, using her hands to push herself to her feet. “Don’s going to call his kids.”
“I’m going to stay here with my momma.” Aurora got up and got a blanket out of the ottoman and covered her mother with it, pure love in her eyes. “I’m going to try to whisper the name I want for the baby while she sleeps.”
Bishop laughed with Montana. “Like, subliminal messages?” Montana asked. “Good luck with that.” She exchanged a look with Bishop, who kept his mouth shut. He and Montana had already chosen a name for their son; they simply hadn’t told anyone yet. They’d decided not to, because in a family as big as the Glovers, everyone had an opinion and Bishop didn’t want to hear any of them.
He got to work on the dough, letting his fears and worries about becoming a biological father for the first time knead their way out of him. On the outside of his life, everything looked amazing and great. Bishop didn’t want to say it wasn’t. But even when things were going well, Bishop wondered if he was doing enough.
He rolled out the dough and cut it into neat, even rectangles. Those got sliced diagonally, and he rolled them up from the small tip to the wide base. Each roll then got put on the baking sheet.
Bishop had finished about half of them when his phone rang, and Ranger’s name sat there. He wiped his floury hands on his apron and reached over to tap on the call with his knuckle.
“Hey, Range.” The app business never slept, and it seemed like Ranger didn’t either. He worked a ton on Two Cents, though he still completed a few chores around the ranch, and Bishop had been helping him with some back-end things as he had time.
“I’m worried about Ward.”
All of the seething inside of Bishop suddenly made sense. “Me too.”
“I didn’t know he cared so much about the names.”
“I didn’t think anyone did.”
“Bear was surprised.” Ranger exhaled. “I wish I could go over there.”
Bishop looked up and out the windows to his right. “The weather will break tonight,” he said.
“Yeah, and then we’ll be swamped with clean-up and animal care.”
Bishop was used to both, as he loved to cook, and that usually left the kitchen looking like a bomb had gone off. “Yes,” Bishop said. “But we’ll make sure we talk to Ward. Find out where his head is.”
“I know he likes Dot a lot. Maybe he’s just too far inside his head.”
Bishop picked up another piece of dough. “I don’t think Ward does that.”
“Yeah, maybe not.” A baby cried on his end of the line, and the speaker scratched. “Hush now,” Ranger said in a smooth, soft voice. “Let me tell you, it’s a good thing Etta’s here,” he then said under his breath. “Bear actually suggested we have grilled cheese sandwiches for Christmas dinner.”
Bishop burst out laughing, because he’d lived with Bear and Ranger before. It wasn’t an easy job, and they did love to eat. None of them over there, besides Etta, liked to cook or even knew how.
“What are you making for dinner?” Ranger asked.
“I don’t want to say,” Bishop said, still chuckling. “But it’s not grilled cheese sandwiches.”
“I’m going to suggest everyone send photos of their meals, and it might be like we’re eating together.”
“I had no idea I’d miss getting together as much as I do,” Bishop said, finally reading between what Ranger was saying.
“Me either,” Ranger said. “Usually, I can’t wait to get everyone out of the homestead, but today, I just want everyone I care about here.”
Bishop knew exactly how he felt. “I’ll save you some bison stew,” he said. “And these lion house rolls I’m making right now are going to be perfect.”
“Rub it in,” Ranger said, though his voice carried a smile. “If you talk to Ward before I do, maybe see how he’s doing.”
“I will,” Bishop said.
“Let’s keep each other informed,” Ranger said. “He tells us different things.”
“He sure does.” Ward worked a lot with Ranger too, and they were brothers, so sometimes Ranger got more information than Bishop. On the flip side, sometimes Ward didn’t want all the fussing Ranger would bring, so he’d tell Bishop more sensitive things.
Both of them just wanted Ward to find happiness, because it was clear to anyone who could see even slightly that he wasn’t very happy right now.
Bishop thought of the light he’d seen in his cousin’s eye