A Mother for Cindy. Margaret Daley
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princess, if it’s not too much trouble.” He peered at Jesse.
“No problem. A piece of cake. I throw parties all the time.”
Jesse watched the father and daughter walk away. If he only knew about her famous little dinner parties, he might pack up and leave in the dead of night. Tara Cummings would be perfect for him. Cindy needed a mother and Nick needed—well, he seemed awfully lonely. He masked his vulnerability well, but she’d glimpsed it. Besides, any man who worked all the time needed to loosen up. There was more to life than work. Tara was definitely the person to match him with, especially after Clint broke off their engagement. Jesse hurried inside to call her friend.
Chapter Two
“Tara, you’re early,” Jesse exclaimed when she opened her front door to find her friend standing on the porch.
“I wanted all the juicy details before I meet this man. I heard the Millers weren’t coming this summer to Sweetwater Lake. It’s your new neighbor, isn’t it?”
Jesse turned away from Tara. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Jesse Bradshaw, we all know when you throw one of these little dinner parties it’s to fix someone up. I’m single and recently out of a relationship. Perfect target for your matchmaking.”
“I invited Susan Reed tonight, too. You won’t be the only one single.”
“If we exclude you, I’ll be the only single woman here under the age of fifty. Right?”
Jesse slid her gaze away. “Cindy’s coming.”
“Who’s Cindy?”
“My neighbor’s almost-seven-year-old daughter.”
“I knew it! You’re up to your old tricks. Okay, tell me about your new neighbor. I’ve heard he is dynamite-looking, some kind of millionaire, and besides having a little girl, he has a manservant. He’s from Chicago and is only here for a couple of months.”
“Where did you hear all that?”
“The usual.”
“Susan Reed?”
Tara nodded. “The best source of info in this town. Far better than our newspaper.”
“There isn’t much else I can add.” For some reason she didn’t feel right gossiping about Nick. Tara would have to discover for herself how vulnerable he was, how lonely he was, how attractive—whoa, stop right there, Jesse Bradshaw! A little inner voice yelled.
“Susan said something about you talking to him yesterday. Is he nice?”
“I wouldn’t have invited you if he wasn’t.”
Tara brushed her long black hair behind her shoulders. “I knew that. I guess I’m a little nervous. Ever since Clint ran out on me, I’m a little gun-shy.”
Jesse put an arm around her friend and began walking her toward the kitchen. “Perfectly understandable. Clint will regret his hasty decision one day.”
“I just don’t understand why he left.”
Jesse patted Tara’s arm. “Neither do I.”
“Do you think he was overwhelmed with the wedding preparations? He kept asking me to elope with him and end the madness. I should have listened to him.” Tears filled Tara’s eyes.
“There, there. You’ll forget about him in no time.” Jesse continued to comfort her friend while she glanced up at the clock over her stove. Fifteen minutes and still so much to do. “You’ll see, tonight will be the beginning of something magical.”
Tara pulled back. “You think?”
“You know me. I have a sixth sense when it comes to matching people up.”
Tara gave her a skeptical look. “You’re the one who fixed me up with Clint last year.”
The heat of embarrassment singed Jesse’s cheeks. “We all fail every once in a while. Just a temporary setback.” She waved her hand in the air. “Look at Maggie and Neil. They’re getting married next month. It all started here one evening at one of my little dinner parties.”
“Don’t get me wrong, but they haven’t gotten married yet. They had a loud argument today at the bank. I wouldn’t be surprised if the wedding was called off.”
“They did?”
“Yeah. He was angry about the money she was spending on the wedding.”
The timer on her stove buzzed. Jesse jumped, startled by the sound, but glad for the interruption. She would check with Maggie tomorrow to see what was going on. Her reputation was obviously at stake here. “I’d better get these cookies before they burn.”
“Chocolate chip?”
“What other kind is there?” Jesse reached into the oven at the same time the doorbell chimed. “Can you get that? I have one more batch to stick in, then I’ll be in the living room. Just make Nick and his daughter feel at home.”
“It could be Susan Reed.”
“Nah. Gramps went to pick her up. You know he takes forever.”
Tara halted at the entrance into the kitchen. “Is there something going on there that I should know about?”
Jesse laughed. “Could be. They’ve been friends for a long time and are now finally dating. It’s about time that Gramps got involved with someone.” So he will stop meddling in my life, she added silently.
“Now I know why you asked Susan here this evening. You’re killing two birds with one stone, so to speak.”
The doorbell rang again.
“Go, before my guests decide I’m not home.”
“He sure is impatient,” Tara grumbled and made her way toward the front door.
While spooning cookie dough onto the baking sheet, Jesse tried to listen to the people in the foyer. It was awfully quiet for a good minute, then she heard Tara’s raised voice. Not a good sign. Jesse quickly finished her task and stuck the cookies into the oven.
When a man’s voice answered Tara, Jesse knew something had gone wrong. That wasn’t Nick speaking. She remembered his voice—how could she forget such a deep, raspy baritone that sent chills down her spine? Hurrying into the living room, Jesse came to an abrupt halt just inside the doorway. Standing toe-to-toe in her house, hands balled at their sides, were Tara and Clint, both furiously whispering to each other.
“Clint, what are you doing here?” Jesse asked, wiping her hands on her sunflower apron. I didn’t invite you, she silently added, visions of all her hard work that day going up in smoke.
He shot Jesse a narrowed look. “Coming to stop my woman from making a mistake.”
“I’m having dinner. How can that be a mistake?” Tara’s voice rose again. “And I’m not your woman. Not since you sped away from my house after calling our wedding off so fast you probably got whiplash.”
“We all know why Jesse has these little dinner parties.”
The doorbell sounded. Dread trembled through Jesse. Oh great, her guest of honor had finally arrived and World War III was about to erupt in her living room. “Shh, Clint. If you behave yourself, you can stay,” Jesse said as she scurried past the couple, smoothing her apron down over her white pants.
“And watch Tara flirt—”
“Clint Clayborne, you heard Jesse. Quiet.”
The man thankfully closed his mouth, but the mutinous expression on his face spoke volumes. This wasn’t going to be the fun-packed evening she’d envisioned, Jesse thought as she plastered a wide smile on her face and pulled open her