Heaven Sent. Jillian Hart
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could be worth some money.”
He chuckled, rich and deep, and it somehow moved through her even though they hardly touched. Like a vibration of warmth and sunlight, she felt it, and when her sneaker hit a loose shingle, his grip on her arm held her steady even before she could stumble.
His touch remained, branding her with his skin’s heat, and she almost stumbled again. Why was her heart beating as if she’d run a mile? With every step she took, she was aware of the way he moved beside her—the easy, athletic movements as he escorted her safely to the peak of the sloped roof.
No, she wasn’t attracted to him. He was simply being a gentleman, as he’d been when he’d carried her luggage and driven her home on the night of the storm. A gentleman, nothing more and nothing less, and even if that was attractive to her, she didn’t need to panic. He was no threat to her heart. No threat at all.
She faced the wind, and the sweet country breezes lifted the hair from her brow and whirred in her ears. Sunlight slanted in ragged, luminous fingers from the wide blue sky to the rich green earth.
“I should have brought my camera. Look at the cloud shadow on those hills.”
“The Tobacco Roots.” He nodded toward the wrinkled hills in the distance, rugged and rocky, in contrast to the regal Rockies to the West. “Kathy and I used to hike there before the boys were born. We tried it once afterward, carting the three of them in backpacks, but they were hot and miserable and, unfortunately, teething. We decided not to make that mistake again.”
“Scared away the wildlife, did they?”
“I still think half the deer never did return to their natural habitat. The park ranger threatened to ticket us.” He shrugged one capable shoulder but his grin didn’t reach all the way to his eyes.
“I remember Kathy. She was two years behind us in school, wasn’t she?”
“Yes.” A muscle worked in his jaw as he towered over her, his back to the sun, his face shadowed.
Hope sat on the hot shingles, emotions tangled into a knot in her stomach. She didn’t want to say anything more that would make sadness shade his eyes. “How old are your boys?”
“Three, almost four. Their birthday is in July.”
“Triplets. That must be a handful.”
“When Kathy was alive, it was almost manageable. When we finally got them on the same sleeping schedule, that is.” The sadness crept into his eyes anyway as he sat down beside her, leaving a deliberate space between them. “Right now I’m between housekeepers. It’s hard to find someone with the right temperament.”
“I bet it isn’t easy keeping up with triplets.”
“It’s not impossible. They are something, I’ll tell you that, always going in different directions at once, but I wouldn’t trade ’em for the world.”
The wind tossed dark shocks of hair over his brow as he looked everywhere but at her. “I haven’t seen the world like you have, heck, I haven’t even been out of Montana, but I have everything I want right now. I have my boys and that’s all I need.”
“Then you’re a lucky man.”
“I’m not going to argue with you about that.”
His voice dipped and he turned away from her to study the valley spread out before them. As the silence lengthened, Hope tried to pretend she wasn’t touched by what she’d seen in Matthew’s eyes and heard unspoken in his words, but she failed. She was touched. Anyone could see a father’s steadfast love in him as certain as the warm sun overhead.
Not that what lived in Matthew’s heart was any of her business.
Maybe this jumpy, skittery feeling wasn’t an attraction to Matthew at all. Maybe she was itching to start working again. That’s it. “I’d better get back before Nanna misses me.”
Matthew stood, not meeting her gaze, and offered his hand.
She straightened on her own, not certain if she could touch him one more time. She wasn’t attracted to him…and she didn’t want her physical reaction to him proving her wrong.
“Looks like we’re in trouble.” Without looking at her, he nodded across the field toward the dirt road, where a dust plume rose behind a sedate burgundy sedan. “It’s my mom. No, there’s no time to run. There she is. We’re busted.”
The look of dismay on Hope’s face told Matthew she didn’t like the prospect of being caught alone with him, and he couldn’t blame her. Mom would jump to conclusions and only take seeing them together as encouragement. He held the ladder for Hope so she could climb down safely.
She knelt and carefully placed her designer sneakers on the top rung. “Sure, send me down first into enemy territory.”
“Better you than me. Mom will show you mercy.”
“Not if she’s anything like Nanna.”
Her attempt at humor touched him because she couldn’t like this situation. It was absurd that anyone would think that a small-town carpenter belonged anywhere near a millionaire’s daughter.
“Daddy! Daddy! Daddy!” The words rang on the air the instant the passenger door of Mom’s car swung open. As Hope finished descending, Matthew watched his sons race full out toward the fence until Mom shouted at them to wait and not touch the barbed wire.
Hope lighted on the ground and tilted her head back to look at him. “I didn’t know they were identical.”
“Keeps things interesting.”
“I bet it does.” She covered her eyes with her free hand and squinted through the glaring sun to watch the triplets tumble into the field.
He started down the ladder, descending quickly. Already Mom was helping the boys through the fence and there was no mistaking the look of delight in that grin of hers, which he could see plainly from across the field. This wasn’t what he needed. Mom would think she was on the right track and start really pushing.
“Daddy, Daddy, Daddy!” The triplets plowed through the sweet-smelling alfalfa and scrambled to him, arms flung open.
Matthew barely had time to brace himself before the boys threw their arms around his knees and held on tight, bouncing and shouting. “Did you three give your gramma so much trouble she decided to give you back?”
“It was tempting,” Mom teased over the racket of the boys talking at once. He heard the words “fire,” “fireman” and “big truck.” “Agnes had a small kitchen fire and wanted you to give her an estimate on the damage.”
“You could have called, Mom.” Matthew lifted Josh onto his hip.
“Yes, but you know I hate talking to that beeper thing of yours. Hope, what a pleasure to see you again.” Mom practically beamed as she approached the slim woman who stood off by herself, as if not sure what to think of them all. “I heard from Nora you were in town.”
“She finally figured out a way to get me back here.” Hope took Mom’s hand, her manner warm, as if she wasn’t upset in the slightest. “It’s good to see you again, Patsy.”
The boys demanded Matthew’s attention, telling him everything about the sirens and the big red truck, but his gaze kept straying to the woman talking with his mother, whose girl-next-door freshness was at odds with everything he remembered about Hope Ashton from high school.
“Is that lady gonna take us?” Josh asked, both fists tight in Matthew’s T-shirt.
The other boys turned to frown at Hope, and before Matthew could answer, she did.
“No, but I did bring you boys something.” Hope swirled away from his mother and snatched the paper bag from the blanket.
Of course, his mother took one look at the blanket, not an item he usually