air in the house.
She’d thought about being a mother, but she hadn’t truly seen what that looked like on the outside. Watching Etta, she saw it. She felt it. She did want a child of her own, and she started fantasizing about what a baby boy that came from her and Ward would look like.
Chapter Nineteen
Ward watched Dot as she picked up a bag of chicken feed. She could lift more than a normal woman, and he wasn’t complaining about that. He liked her strong arms and can-do attitude, but he sure didn’t need her fainting on him again.
She hadn’t passed out at the homestead, and when he’d come out of the shower, his hair smelling like strawberries and cream—a scent that literally made him gag—Dot had been laughing with Etta and feeding Stetson crackers in the shape of goldfish.
His sister had fed him, and Ward had put every able-bodied person to work around the ranch. He and Dot were a team, and right now, they were making sure the turkeys and chickens had food on the ground.
The birds could scratch through the snow, and they would. Bishop had built coops about four years ago, and the turkeys normally roosted on the roof while the chickens went inside. There were no fences for the birds, and Ward moved them from pasture to pasture following the cows.
The cows grazed with the sheep and goats, because all three animals ate different parts of the foliage in the field. The birds didn’t mind rooting through the manure for grubs, and the fields turned over faster that way.
But while they weren’t using a ton of pasture in the winter—it didn’t grow nearly fast enough—the chickens and turkeys had to be fed in addition to them wandering free-range to find food.
“Right over there, sweetheart,” Ward said, indicating the empty spot in the truck for her bag of feed. Dot hefted it into place and wiped the loose hair off her forehead. She stunned him with her beauty in the waning afternoon light, and Ward couldn’t contain the smile moving through him.
It felt like a movie-moment, where he could declare his love for her, and she’d say it right on back. Then he’d kiss her, and the sun would set and the credits would roll.
He actually opened his mouth, and the word, “I—” fell out. He cleared his terrifying and ridiculous thoughts as he cleared his throat. “This is the last of it,” he said. “Then we’ll be done. We can check in with everyone and see who needs to finish up what.”
He looked up into the sky. “We don’t want to be out here too much past dark.”
“No, we don’t.” She stepped over to him and wrapped her arms around his waist. “Will you build me a fire tonight, cowboy?”
“You bet,” he said, grinning down at her. “Are you gonna make dinner?”
She trilled out a laugh, and Ward chuckled too. “I’m useless in the kitchen, Ward. But I can probably put together a hamburger. That’s one of the things I can make.”
“Hamburgers sounds great,” he said. “Mother makes them with barbecue sauce in the meat. Then a healthy pinch of garlic powder and one of onion salt.”
“Oh, so you have a recipe you like already.”
“I mean, anything you make will be fine. I can cut up some potatoes and make fries too.”
“So you’ll show me up in the kitchen.”
Ward grinned and shook his head. “It’s French fries. Not French food.”
“Who makes French fries at home?”
“People who can’t get off their property.”
She burst out laughing, and she clung to him like she needed his arms around her to stay standing. He sure did like that, and Ward held her tightly around the waist. She quieted, and Ward bent his head closer to hers.
He bypassed her mouth though, and skated his lips along her jaw to her ear. “Dot,” he whispered. “Is it too soon to talk about serious things?”
She pulled in a breath, her hands moving up to his shoulders. A shiver ran down his spine, but Ward didn’t put new distance between them. “What kind of serious things?”
“You know, like family things. Kids.” He dang near coughed, and he definitely made a choking sound. “Do you want kids?”
“Did you see me with that baby?” she asked, pulling away. Her face had lit up. “He was the most adorable thing on the planet.”
“Stetson or Russell?”
“Stetson,” she said. “I would’ve given him crackers for the rest of his life.”
“He knew it too,” Ward said dryly. Stetson was