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T he thing about children, especially younger children, is that they bounce back quickly.

So it only was two days before they were able to make the trip to look for furniture.

She and Leo had handled the intervening days as well as they could.

It helped that she’d reverted to their original system of simply passing Mia over when Leo returned from work, and had managed to mostly say out of his orbit.

It wasn’t easy, but it was working as well as a difficult situation ever could. Had it eased any of her longing? Brought an end to the fantasies that plagued her day and night? Stopped her constantly thinking about him? Worrying if he was late or if the weather was foul?

The answer to all those was a resounding no . And she’d realized with much chagrin that she didn’t need the man right there in front of her to keep him alive in her head. He was always there, entrenched to the extent that she wondered if he would ever not be there.

Yet another thing to worry about.

On the morning of their trip though, there was little time for such concerns.

While she readied the children Leo prepared pancakes for them all, topping them with syrup and blueberries—though the results were that Mia had to be completely redressed and Benny required a wash down—they were delicious.

For which Ella was grateful: she didn’t want there to be any tension, and the meal kind of set the tone for the day. Fun and lighthearted.

“Do you have a list?” she asked when they were finally on the road. “And you realize you’ll probably have to wait a few weeks for delivery? Have you settled on theme or color scheme?”

Shooting her a confused look, he shrugged. “Don’t you just pick what you like? What’s comfortable?”

“If that were the case Leo, why do you need me? Just go in and flop all over sofas and chairs until you find one that meets your comfort standards.”

“Okay, you’re saying you expect me to make a whole lot of decisions based on stuff that doesn’t relate to comfort for stuff that’s supposed to be comfortable?”

Ella choked back a laugh. “Well, when put like that…” She shook her head. “Of course, comfort has to be paramount, but matching styles also helps. And colors that don’t clash.”

For the next several miles, she quizzed him with various design questions, enjoying herself way too much, but grateful for the distraction.

It had been barely two days since their conversation, and yet everything inside her was acting as though she hadn’t seen him for months, so interior design chat kept her head from wandering to other things—like those thighs, encased once more in his trim-fitting Wranglers and resting so close to her own.

“Are you intimating I have no style?” The question was carried on amused exasperation.

“Not at all,” she replied crisply, “I’m just struggling to collate rustic mountain cabin, private men’s club, and bawdy brothel into one discernable style so as to communicate your preferences to the salespeople.

” Ella paused and shook her head. “So, no, I am not saying you have no style. I’m saying you have an appalling sense of style. Hideous. ”

His eyes were sparkling as he glanced across at her. “Seems like it’s a good thing I have you here then, isn’t it?”

Indignation bubbled as truth dawned. “You’re playing me?”

“Easy pickings…”

He was trying to contain his laughter, she could see that, but he was also failing, meanwhile she, while trying to maintain her indignation; and also failing.

“So, no buttoned purple leather sofas, purple walls, furniture, carpet, and drapes? With gold trim and ruby red accents in your glorious light-filled living room? All picked out with brown-and-cream plaid throws and your grandmother’s floral covered rocking chair? ”

“Hey, you were the one that swallowed all that. I just played along.”

Thankfully in the store, which incidentally almost blew Ella’s mind, he was much more controlled, even making sensible choices.

That in itself was something, given the vast range he had to choose from.

The store was probably as big as a football field that not only, offered quality brands, but also promised immediate delivery from their even bigger warehouse.

So, all her warnings about not having furniture in time for the combined birthday party fell by the wayside.

Between them, they chose furniture for the living and dining rooms, Leo’s study, the family room, plus the casual eating area and the room he’d designated as a home theater.

When they were almost done, he insisted she choose furniture and furnishings for her own room, and knowing she was doing him a favor, she immediately began searching.

She and Benny would leave one day, and perhaps that day wasn’t as far away as she’d like, but by furnishing the room, she knew he’d have a stylish guest room. For another nanny?

The thought twisted so fiercely she lost the ability to breathe for just a moment. Someone else with her baby Mia? Loving her? Holding her when she was sad or unwell? Giggling with her?

Somone else there with Leo? Would they joke with him? Coax out his delicious cheeky smiles? Would he bite back? Make the new nanny laugh?

Would he look at that new nanny like he looked at her? Would he stir the same fires?

It was almost enough to make her ill. Swallowing the sudden nausea, she forced her head back into the game; determinedly eyed each piece, studying the soft furnishings critically, and biting back the sudden childish desire to make it ugly for the person she would leave it for.

She couldn’t do that and when she spotted a padded and buttoned pearl-gray headboard, one with fluted rim, she knew she had the scheme and style she wanted. The bed coverings were luxurious and classy, and with the soft yellow and pure white accents she picked out, it would look stunning.

Happy with their choices, Ella relaxed. It had taken an age, but the children had been brilliant, all things considered, but enough was enough.

Leo carried Benny on his shoulders, much to the toddler’s delight, while she pushed Mia’s stroller.

By the time they were done, both little ones had crashed, and while Leo held a sleeping Benny as he paid and organized delivery, she wandered through the store with the stroller.

The store was busy, lots of people browsed, and the aisles between the displays weren’t overly wide, so progress was slow.

Coincidentally, she found herself by a display of beds for children and slowed to a complete stop.

It wouldn’t be long before Benny would need one, and she took the time to see what was on offer.

Checking the softness of a display mattress, she stepped away from the stroller in order to lean in and feel the quality. That was all she’d done; nothing more and it took her barely a moment; yet, when she looked back up, the stroller was being pushed away. A strange man was taking Mia!

It was every nightmare she’d ever had. It was every fear she’d harbored since the day Emile died and left alone her with Benny: his precious child.

Yet her mind was blank. She didn’t really think; had only one objective.

Her scream surely must have alerted every single person in the store and beyond, but it was her flying leap that most would probably remember.

Mindless of everything around her, she brought that man down, screaming at him…

Reality seeped back and Ella blinked into the face partially turned to her.

Middle aged; a stranger—looked back at her with a combination of astonishment and fear, which was what any person suddenly attacked by a mad woman would probably feel.

*

The return journey to the Lazy H was mostly silent. Even the children seemed to know this wasn’t the time for a dissection of events and eventually drifted off to sleep.

Having apologized to the store managers and the man she’d attacked , assuring the latter was okay and largely unharmed and getting Ella treated for her own shock, Leo had simply taken care of both children’s needs, and then opted for an immediate return to the ranch.

His concern evident in the parade of glances speared her way as they drove. He’d made her eat chocolate. Told her the sugar was good for shock. Denied her coffee and instead procured hot tea. Even wrapping a blanket around her in spite of the car’s more than adequate heating.

Once home, he carried the still sleeping children to their rooms and ushered her inside before stoking the fires to life. Finally, he made sweet hot chocolate, with extra marshmallows and then joined her on the sofa where he’d suggested she wait.

She hadn’t had to wait there. He didn’t own her; she could have just gone to her room—they both knew that. But he was owed an explanation. Her problem was deciding just how much to tell him.

Now with him beside her, so close she could feel the warmth of his body, the only sound the soothing crackle of the fire, she knew her time was up. He looked across, his expression grave. “You okay?”

She nodded.

“You want to talk about it? Because while everybody else just accepted the actions of what they assumed was a shocked and terrified young mother, I don’t think I’m wrong in assuming that it was something else entirely.”

“There was an element of shocked mother.”

“Yep, I get that. I know how protective you are of both the kids. Still—Ella, the guy only moved the stroller a couple of feet so he could pass by.” He paused. “But you and I know that wasn’t the worst of it; that came from what you screamed at him.”

“Screamed?” She knew she’d bellowed at the guy. But in her shock, she wasn’t completely cognizant of what she’d actually said.

“Something along the lines of, I knew you bastards would come, but you’re not getting him, not ever! Not even over my dead body. ”

Horror swept through her. “I said that in front of Mia ?”