Falling For Fortune. Nancy Robards Thompson
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And a gentleman always kept his word.
Though right now Oliver didn’t feel much like a gentleman.
Thoughts of Shannon occupied him during the rest of the drive to the Singleton ranch. By the time Oliver turned onto the long lane leading to the house, Ollie was fast asleep. Oliver stifled a groan at the sight of the boy’s lolling head in the rearview mirror. He’d discovered if Ollie napped throughout the day, he often didn’t sleep well at night.
But Oliver couldn’t concern himself with that now. He would get through another night of little to no sleep with the thought that tomorrow night Shannon would be there to take care of Ollie. And Oliver would finally be able to get back to business.
For now, he had a different kind of business to attend to, and he wasn’t looking forward to it.
Before confirming a time, he’d asked Shep if Shannon was home. According to Shep, she’d left early that morning to attend a “farmers’ market” in Vicker’s Corners and wasn’t expected back until noon. By that time, Oliver’s business should be concluded.
The Singleton home was a two-story with white siding, black shutters and a wraparound porch. The bushes on each side of the walk leading to the front steps looked like a sturdy variety with burnished red leaves and tiny thorns.
Oliver noticed the ceiling of the porch was painted blue, like the sky. Seeing the swing made him wonder if Shannon ever sat there and shared kisses with some lucky man while a full moon shone overhead.
Oliver chuckled at the fanciful thought and shifted Ollie’s weight in his arms. Though his son was by no means fat, he was sturdy, weighing in at approximately a stone and a half. Not that easy to carry when he squirmed as he was doing now.
Having Ollie with him wasn’t ideal but Oliver had brought some of the boy’s favorite toys, so hopefully that would keep him occupied during the brief discussion with Shannon’s father.
When Oliver reached the front door, he had Ollie stand beside him while he rang the bell.
The door opened several seconds later.
“You must be Oliver.” Shep Singleton was a tall man in his late fifties with a thick thatch of gray hair and a lean, weathered face.
Dressing down for the occasion had been a smart move, Oliver decided. Though he considered this a business call, he hadn’t worn his suit. Instead he’d taken a page from Jensen’s playbook and chosen a pair of khakis and a polo.
Even with the concession, he felt overdressed compared with Shep’s jeans and flannel shirt.
Because Shep didn’t extend his hand, Oliver kept his own at his side.
“Come in.” Shep motioned to him. “Lilian has coffee brewin’ and she’s cutting some slices of her blue-ribbon banana bread.”
Oliver didn’t think he’d ever had blue-ribbon banana bread. In fact he was fairly certain he’d never had regular banana bread. He considered asking how blue ribbon differed from regular, just for his own edification, but decided it wasn’t important. Not when they had more important things to discuss.
He followed Shep into a foyer that was pleasant but unremarkable, with a staircase straight ahead and a parlor to the right. Because the older man’s strides were long, Oliver was forced to pick up Ollie to keep pace.
The kitchen was as old-fashioned as the rest of the house, with appliances the color of avocado and a chrome kitchen table with a swirly gray-green top. There was an ornamental print on the wall with teapots and kettles of all shapes and colors.
A slender woman who reminded Oliver of her daughter, with warm brown eyes and hair the color of strong tea, turned to greet him.
“It’s so good to finally meet you,” Lilian said with a warm, welcoming smile. “When Shep told me you were stopping by, I hoped you’d be bringing this little guy with you.”
Her gaze lingered on Ollie, and a soft look filled her eyes. She reached inside a clown jar and pulled out what looked like an oat biscuit. The questioning look in her eyes had Oliver nodding.
Lilian moved slowly to the child, who stood looking around the colorful kitchen with a wide, unblinking look of wonder.
“Hi, Ollie.” She crouched down with the ease of a woman used to constant movement.
The toddler stared at her.
“Do you like cookies?” Lilian held it up in front of him, and when she was certain she had his attention, she broke off a piece and held it out to him.
A shy smile hovered on Ollie’s lips. Still, after a moment, he reached out and took the piece from her hand, shoving it into his mouth.
“Ollie, what do you say to Mrs. Singleton?” Oliver prompted.
“Tank ooh,” Ollie spoke around a mouthful of cookie.
Lilian ruffled his hair in a casual gesture and stood. “He’s darling. Shannon has four younger brothers, so we’re used to boys around this house.”
“Four boys.” Oliver almost cringed. He had a difficult time managing one. “That must have kept you busy.”
“I’ll say. For years I didn’t know if I was coming or going. I longed for just a couple hours to myself. Even fifteen minutes.” She laughed and a wistful look crossed her face. “Now I’d give anything to have that time back.”
Her gaze dropped to Ollie. “Cherish every minute with your son. Time goes by so quickly.”
Shep cleared his throat. “I told Oliver you had some banana bread for us. And coffee.”
Lilian flashed a smile. “What’s conversation without coffee and banana bread?”
Without realizing how it happened, Oliver was at the table with a steaming mug of strong coffee before him and a small plate containing delicious-smelling bread still warm from the oven.
He waited for Lilian to dispense the sterling, but when none was forthcoming and he saw Shep pick up the slice and take a bite, Oliver followed suit. When in Rome...
“This blue-ribbon banana bread is excellent,” he told Lilian, making her blush.
“Last year it won a purple at the state fair.”
Oliver simply nodded and smiled. He made a mental note to ask his sister about a “purple.”
“Well, I’ll leave you boys to your business.” Lilian refilled their coffee cups before her gaze shifted to Oliver. “Being as it’s such a nice day, I thought I’d air out some blankets on the line. Would you mind if I took Ollie with me? I promise I’ll keep an eye on him.”
Oliver hesitated. “He’s wanted to stay close lately. Last night he didn’t even want my mum to hold him.”
Of course, his mother had unthinkingly swooped in, startling him. Still, Ollie had recently become cautious around people he didn’t know. Other than Shannon. He’d taken to her right off.
“Do you mind if I give it a try?”
“Not at all.” It would be easier to speak with Shep if he didn’t have to keep Ollie occupied.
“Ollie.” Lilian crouched down beside the boy, who still held the scruffy yellow tiger he’d had when Oliver had picked him up from Diane’s parents.
According to Diane’s mum, they’d given the stuffed animal to Ollie when he was born, and it was a favorite of his. She’d had tears in her eyes when she’d relayed the story, Oliver recalled.
At the time, Oliver hadn’t paid much mind to her. He’d been so angry with them for withholding information of Diane’s death. For keeping his son from him.
“Would you like to go outside with me? You can take Mr. Tiger with you, if you like,” her voice continued, low, calm and soothing.
There was