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a step forward. She quickly jerked to attention and faced him.
He held up his free left hand. “I didn’t mean to frighten you.”
“I wasn’t frightened.”
No, she probably wasn’t. But in that moment before she’d sensed him there, she’d looked like she was having a panic attack.
“Okay, not frightened,” he conceded. He didn’t know how to ask if she was okay, if she needed anything. A change of subject would probably be best. “Have you met my daughter, Isabelle?”
It worked. Lucy’s features softened the tiniest bit and a hint of a smile tugged at her lips.
“I haven’t. It’s good to meet you, Isabelle. I’ve heard a lot about you.”
Issy, just three years old, never feared a situation or a stranger. She held out her little hand for Lucy and grinned. “Good to meet you. I like chocolate cake.”
Lucy chuckled, a little breathless. “Really? I think chocolate is my favorite, too.”
“Essie always has chocolate cake. Even if it isn’t my birthday.”
“Does she really? Then maybe we should go inside and have a piece of cake.”
“Dinner first,” Dane warned his daughter.
Issy frowned and let out a loud sigh. “Dinner first.”
“Are there empty chairs in there?” he asked Lucy.
“There are a few at our table.”
“Is that an invitation?” Dane teased.
“Not an invitation, just a fact. Don’t push it, Scott.”
“Back to a last name basis? And here I thought we were friends.”
A hint of a smile hovered on that wide, generous mouth of hers and she shook her head. “Neighbors.”
He reached past her to push the door open and she slid through but she didn’t walk away as he thought she might. Instead she walked just in front of him. If he was to guess, he thought she might need a friend. Even if she only wanted to call him a neighbor.
As she navigated the crowded café, he thought of the girl he’d known. She hadn’t been a typical teen girl, eager to be seen with him, talking of forever before they’d even had a chance to know each other. She’d always been self-contained, keeping her hopes and dreams to herself.
He’d wanted desperately to know what made her tick. And then he’d wanted to protect her. He’d failed miserably on both counts.
In his arms, Issy struggled, wanting down. He leaned in close. “It’s too crowded, honey.”
There were too many obstacles. Too many chairs, too many legs stretched, too many purses. Born two months premature, she’d lost her vision. It had been devastating to Dane and his wife. Issy didn’t know any different. She ran, she played and she chased kittens. She navigated the world with the bravery of a three-year-old.
They reached the table at the back of the room. Lucy pointed to the two remaining chairs. “I’m sure Essie reserved them for you.”
Of course Essie had planned those chairs for him. Right there, next to her niece. The older woman had been telling him for over a year now that someday he’d find someone. She’d told him to give God a chance. Up to now, her meddling had been harmless.
Lucy’s return to town had changed things. Essie was convinced everyone deserved a great love, the kind of love she’d shared with her husband. Dane didn’t want to hurt Essie’s feelings, but since his ex-wife left him, he wasn’t looking for that. She hadn’t been a partner in their marriage. She hadn’t been a mom to Issy. The day she walked out, she said she’d never planned on being tied down on a ranch and she hadn’t signed on to raise a child who was less than perfect.
He couldn’t think of that day, the way she’d blindsided him, without a big dose of anger washing over him.
Essie hurried their way, her attention immediately going to Issy. “I knew you would be here. You’ve done so much for the church, Dane. I wanted to make sure you had a seat. And, Miss Issy, I have chocolate cake.”
Dane arched a brow and Essie knew to avoid looking him in the eye. This seat had nothing to do with making sure he had a place, and everything to do with Lucy. His gaze focused on the woman standing several feet away, doing her best to ignore him.
“Don’t forget me, Essie.” Maria spoke up. She had a plate of chicken strips in front of her. “And if Issy doesn’t want fish, I have plenty of chicken. I don’t mind sharing.”
He set his daughter in the chair next to Maria. Issy immediately felt for the teen, putting a hand on her cheek, then pushing up to her knees so she could get a little closer to whisper, “I like ranch dressing.”
“I have it,” Maria whispered back, reaching for an extra plate. “I have fries, too.”
“And ketchup?” Issy patted the table and found a fork wrapped in a napkin. “Can I have chocolate milk, Miss Essie?”
Essie leaned to kiss the top of his daughter’s blond head. “You sure can, Issy girl. I’ll be right back. Lucy, why don’t you help me get drinks? Dane will want sweet tea. Chet, what can I get you?”
“I think I’ve had enough.” Chet leaned back and patted his rounded belly.
“Do you want pie?” Essie asked.
“Nope, can’t keep a figure like this by eating pie.”
Essie’s hands went to her hips. “Now what kind of nonsense is that, Chet Andrews? You’ve been eating my pie every day for as long as I can remember. And you haven’t been worrying about your boyish figure.”
Chet let out a long sigh. “Doc said I have to cut back on sugar.”
A waitress flitted past, saw Chet’s empty coffee cup and refilled it. Chet winked at her and reached for the sugar jar but Essie moved it away from him. The maneuver earned her a scowl from the older man.
Essie didn’t back down. She pointed a finger at Chet. “You put five spoons of sugar in every cup of coffee, old man. I guess it’s time you put a stop to that.”
“You’re a hard woman, Essie.” Chet lifted the cup in salute.
“Yes, well, I kind of like having you around. Even if you’ve never left more than a fifty-cent tip, you’re a good neighbor.”
Chet ignored her and sipped his coffee and grimaced. As he set the cup down he turned his attention to Lucy. “Are you back for good, Lucy?”
Dane watched her flick a glance in the direction of her younger sister, a hesitant look on her face. “I’m back for now.”
It wasn’t much of an answer. Not that it mattered to him. But it probably mattered a lot to her sister. A tug on his sleeve brought his attention back to the table. Issy’s small hand was on his arm and she leaned close.
“Do I get cake now?” she whispered.
“Yes, you get cake.” He kissed her cheek. “After you eat dinner.”
She came up on her knees, wobbling a bit on the seat. He steadied her, making sure she was firmly planted in the middle of the chair. “Daddy, is it a party?”
“Kind of.”
A hand reached past his shoulder. He glanced up as Lucy placed chocolate cake in front of his daughter. She leaned over, whispering in Issy’s ear that the cake was right in front of her. With a gentleness that belied her tense expression, Lucy guided his daughter to a fork and helped her locate the cake.
Lucy Palermo was an enigma. But then again, she wasn’t. There was a scar on her cheek, small and faded. She’d had that scar since the night her father caught them in town together. Another