Sheltered in His Arms. Tara Taylor Quinn
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how little Sam appeared to need the Montford fortune, and how much Ben and his new family did.
“He can have it all,” Sam said without bitterness, as though he still meant the words completely. “It just feels odd to have been one thing your entire life, only to find that it’s not what you are at all.”
Cassie nodded, glancing down as Mariah’s arm brushed against her leg. The child, moving silently between them, didn’t seem to notice.
Relieved when they reached her block, Cassie firmly turned her thoughts once again to cabbage rolls. They’d smelled so good when they were baking on Saturday night.
“This is it,” she said, stopping at the bottom of her driveway. If he expected her to ask him in, he was mistaken.
Sam hesitated, looking at the house she’d bought a few years before, in one of the more affluent neighborhoods in Shelter Valley.
“Nice place.”
“I like it.”
“It’s big.”
“Yeah.” She did most of her pet therapy work from an office here at home. And used the rest of the rooms to indulge her amateur interest in interior decorating.
Cassie was beginning to think Sam’s daughter couldn’t hear. The child didn’t even turn toward the house they were discussing. Cassie had heard the adage about children being seen and not heard, but this was too much.
Besides, she’d never figured Sam for that kind of parent.
A familiar pain tore through her at the thought of Sam as a father. She had to stay away from this man, dammit! He could destroy every bit of her hard-won composure, and his very presence threatened the contentment she’d so carefully pieced together.
The child, however, shouldn’t suffer for her father’s sins. Her silence tugged at Cassie. Bending down, face level with the striking little girl, Cassie smiled. “It was nice to see you again, Mariah.”
Mariah didn’t respond. And Sam gave no explanation. Surely if the child was deaf, Sam would have said. And how could she ask, in case the little girl could hear and know they were talking about her?
“Have you had any of your grandma’s cookies yet?” she tried again.
Neither a nod nor a shake of the head. Mariah’s gaze seemed intent on the T-shirt tucked into Sam’s shorts. Her fingers were clutching it. Hard.
Meeting Cassie’s questioning gaze, Sam just shook his head.
“Well, if you haven’t, you’ve got a treat in store,” Cassie continued, simply because she didn’t know what else to do. “They’re the best.”
“I told her.”
Of course. He would have. He’d grown up with them.
They both had.
“Well, good night,” Cassie said awkwardly.
“’Night.”
She didn’t look back as she walked to her door, let herself in and locked it behind her.
But she knew Sam stood there watching her.
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