A Daddy for Christmas. Laura Marie Altom
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can imagine.” He was having a tough enough time dealing with Marnie’s death, and all he had to tackle was his own guilt-laced grief. He couldn’t fathom having to get a couple of kids through that particular brand of pain, as well.
But then Ashley and Lexie hadn’t played a pivotal role in their father’s passing, as he had with his sister’s. Sure, he’d been told by everyone he knew that what happened hadn’t been his fault, but inside—where it counted—he knew better.
Her stare still fixed on the fire, Jess said, “My parents…and Doc—they’re right. I do need help. I am stubborn. Lexie is a mess….” As her words trailed off, the freezing rain pounded all the harder on the tin roof. “I’m sorry. I really should check on the girls—and Honey.”
“I’ll see after the colt.”
“No, really, for all practical purposes, you’re our guest. I can’t further impose on you by—”
“I said I’ll look after the colt.”
For the briefest of moments, Jess’s gaze met his. Gage sensed so much simmering just beneath her public facade. What would it take to expose all of her fears until bringing them to light burned them away? Not that he was the person to tackle the job. He wasn’t in any shape to help her, and even if he were, she obviously didn’t want his help.
“Thank you,” she said, rising from his bed, slipping on her cap, tucking it low around her ears. How could a grown woman manage to look so adorable?
“No problem.”
“What time do you eat breakfast?” she asked, having almost reached the door.
“Usually around seven, but—”
“I’ll have something fixed for you by then.” The vulnerability she’d earlier shown had been replaced by an impenetrable mask. The chilly set to her mouth made the night’s brutal cold seem downright balmy.
“Don’t go to any trouble.”
“I’m not.”
She’d opened the door on the howling wind and stepped outside when he called, “Jess?”
“Yes?” she asked, tone wary.
“I am sorry.”
“About what?” Her cheeks and nose were already turning pink from the cold.
“Your daughter. Your husband. Your colt. You’ve had a rough time of it, and—”
“Mr. Moore, please don’t.” The wind swept hair in front of her eyes, and she impatiently pushed it away. “The girls and I got along fine before you got here, and we’ll be fine long after you go.”
“Did I say you wouldn’t be fine? All I said was—”
“I’m sorry. I don’t mean to be rude, but I really should get back to the house. Thank you for agreeing to check in on Honey.”
He nodded, but he could’ve saved himself the effort as she was already out the door.
What was it with her always running away? Why wouldn’t she talk to him? Why was she shutting herself off from the very practical fact that if she were going to run any kind of successful ranch, there was no way in Sam Hill she could ever do it on her own? And what was she planning on doing about her kid? Lexie. The girl was obviously in a bad way.
Catching his reflection in the dresser’s mirror, he scowled. “What’re you doing, man?”
Too bad for him, the stranger looking back at him had no more clue why he cared about Jess Cummings or her little girl or her ranch than he did.
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