Page 13 of Snowed in with the Rancher

“But only if you remember not to bounce.” He nudged Jackie, who immediately stilled. “Why can't you bounce?” he asked casually as he handed the ladle to Melissa, who very deliberately dipped up batter and poured it on the griddle where he indicated. “Then another small circle right there,” he told her before turning his attention back to Jackie.

“Because the stove's hot and it's dange'rus,” Jackie told him.

He smiled at her. “That's right….and then one more circle on the other side.” Melissa did as instructed, then a grin broke out across her face. “Do you see it?” he asked both girls.

“There's the ears and there's his face!” Jackie exclaimed.

“And when it's cooked, we can use some chocolate chips and whipped cream to make the eyes and mouth.”

Olivia couldn't control the grin that spread over her face. She walked to the kitchen. “So that's some pretty fancy breakfast you're cooking,” she said as she entered the room.

The three cooks looked up at her in unison. As each blinked at her, heads cocked, she saw it—the resemblance. Feature for feature, the girls looked more like her, but the mannerisms? They were all Tate.

It took her breath away for a moment.

“Mommy,” Jackie crowed, “we're making Mickey Mouse 'cakes, and if you're a good girl, you can have one.”

Tate chuckled as Melissa shook her head and rolled her eyes.

“Yeah, Mom,” Tate added. “If you're good, we'll let you have one.”

“Mommy doesn't have to be good,” Melissa chastised. “You guys are silly.”

“We are,” Tate agreed softly. “The whole world is really silly today.”

Olivia could only agree silently. So much silliness. Who knew where it would end? But this, here, with all of them together making breakfast and teasing each other like a real family—it felt good. She only hoped it would last.

SEVEN

Tate settled in at the desk in his bedroom. He'd left Olivia and the girls to kitchen cleanup after Olivia had insisted. Alone with the door closed, he opened the laptop and took a deep breath before pulling up his parents' Skype ID.

“Here goes nothing,” he muttered to himself before clicking the call button.

“Hey, son,” his dad said as the screen opened. Thomas, wearing his favorite Denver Broncos sweatshirt, lifted a cup of coffee in a toast.

“Hey, Dad. That your first cup?” Tate asked. His father wasn't supposed to overdo the caffeine, but Tate knew the old man cheated.

“Second,” Thomas answered. “Last one, I promise.”

Tate gave him a wry smile. “Sure.”

“Huh,” Thomas grunted, taking a sip of the coffee.

“You were always a good dad,” Tate told him, suddenly overcome with emotion. “I didn't tell you that enough.”

Thomas grunted again, but as the coffee cup lowered, Tate could see the question in his eyes. “I have something to tell you,” he said.

“Okay. Whatever it is, we'll get through it, son. You know that.”

Tate nodded. “You might want to get Lucy for this one.”

Thomas called for his better half, and a few seconds later, her cheerful face and head of silver-streaked curly hair appeared.

“Tate has something he wants to tell us,” Thomas announced.

Lucy's gaze flew between Tate and Thomas. “Of course.” Her smile faded into worry.

“You remember that cruise you sent me on a few years ago?” he began. When they nodded, he said, “What I never told you was that I…I met someone.”

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