The Cowboy's Valentine. Donna Alward
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the day didn’t seem so gray.
“Okay, okay. No day care today?”
“Miss Melanie was sick today. Daddy came to pick me up after school, but he said he had some work to do first so I could watch TV.” She looked up at Lacey, her eyes troubled. “Is that okay? You live here. Maybe Daddy should have asked p’mission.”
God, if the kid were any more sweet she’d be made of sugar. “It’s perfectly fine. You go ahead and carry on with the coloring. I’m going to change out of my clothes, okay?”
“But why? You look pretty.”
Now there was a compliment that was heartfelt and Lacey smiled a little. “Why, thank you. But I think I’ll put on something a little more comfortable so I can cook some dinner.”
Instead of getting back in her seat, Amber followed Lacey down the hall to the stairs. “What are you going to make?” she asked, and Lacey hid a smile.
“If you were me, what would you make for supper?”
Amber followed her up the stairs. “I would make...fried chicken and ’tato salad.”
It sounded like a strange order, and Lacey looked down at her companion. “Really?”
Amber nodded. “’Cause it’s Daddy’s favorite only he doesn’t know how to make it and I’m too little.”
And just like that Lacey’s heart did a little turn. Quinn and Amber did the best they could. It wasn’t hard to forgive him for his earlier sharpness. After all, he’d tried to pass on the message right away and it was her own fault she hadn’t gotten the text. That she’d gotten lost.
“Now, what a coincidence! I was just going to make that!”
Amber turned her head sideways and peered up at Lacey as they reached the top step. “What’s a coinc’dence?” She struggled over the word.
Lacey smiled. “Well, it’s like taking two things that aren’t related at all and connecting them together.”
“Like me and my best friend, Emma? We’re not related but purple is both our favorite color.”
Bad grammar and all, Lacey was enchanted. “Well, sort of like that.”
Amber actually followed her right into the bedroom and plopped up on the bed while Lacey went to the closet for a pair of sweats and an old hoodie. Not sure how Quinn would feel about Amber’s intrusion, she did a quick change right in the closet and came out in her comfy clothes.
“Ta-da! Presto chango!”
Amber fell over on the bed in a fit of giggles.
“Amber? Where’d you go?”
“Uh-oh,” the girl whispered, crawling off the bed. She stuck her head out the bedroom door. “I’m up here, Daddy.”
“You’re not supposed to wander around upstairs. You know that.”
Lacey was right behind her. “That’s okay. She came up with me.”
Quinn’s face changed, adopting that impersonal mask again that Lacey was starting to hate. “Oh. I didn’t know you were back.” He looked at Amber again. “Don’t you go bothering Lacey, now.”
“Sorry, Daddy.”
Lacey put her hand on Amber’s curls. “It’s okay. I had a cruddy afternoon and Amber’s a real ray of sunshine.”
“You’re sure?”
Lacey nodded. “I’m sure. Tell you what.” She squatted down beside Amber. “Sometimes when you come over, I might not have time to hang out. If I tell you that I’m busy, you’ll respect that, right?”
Amber’s little head bobbed up and down. “I won’t get in your way.”
Lacey got the feeling that Amber’s life revolved a little too much around being out of the way. Her heart ached for the little girl. Lacey wasn’t a stranger to that sensation, either. Being the middle child in a single-parent home, she’d often felt invisible. Superfluous.
She held out her hand and they went down the stairs together, with Quinn waiting at the bottom. She could tell by the set of his jaw that he was tense about it. “Amber, why don’t you go tidy up your crayons? Then you can help me in the kitchen if you want.”
“Yay!” Amber raced off, while Lacey faced Quinn at the bottom of the stairs.
“You don’t have to babysit her,” he said quietly, so his daughter couldn’t hear. “She’s used to amusing herself while I finish up.”
It hurt a little to say, but she did it anyway. “Quinn, I like kids. Amber’s sweet. I mean it. If she’s in my way, I’ll speak up. But you know I had a rotten afternoon. She really did perk it up.”
“You didn’t get my text, did you?”
She shook her head. “Not until after I’d gotten lost, ripped my panty hose, spilled water down my front and was told the position was already filled.”
He laughed then, a dry chuckle that made her smile. “I know. It sounds ridiculous,” she added.
“I’m sorry,” he offered, and this time she knew he meant it.
“Ah well, it was my first nibble and it’s only been a few days. Something will turn up.”
“Yes, it will.” His gaze was warmer as he looked at her and there was a moment where she got the feeling they almost...understood each other. But that was nuts. Oil and water. That’s what they were...what she had to remember.
And she remembered the way he’d told her she looked pretty and got a little whoop-y feeling in her stomach.
“I’d better finish up,” he said softly, and for the briefest moment his gaze dropped to her lips. Oh. Oh, my. She sucked in a breath.
“Okay.”
Quinn left her standing there, still reeling from the split second where he’d stared at her mouth. He couldn’t be attracted to her. Couldn’t have thought about kissing her. He didn’t even like her!
She didn’t like him, either, but if she were honest, the thought had crossed her mind that kissing him might not be so bad.
The door to the office closed and she shook her head. Fried chicken. Potato salad. She’d better get on it if they planned to have a decent dinner.
* * *
AMBER WAS AS much a distraction as a help in the kitchen, but Lacey didn’t mind. She cut up the potatoes and Amber put them in the pot, and then while they waited for them to cook, Lacey set the girl to work mixing dressing for the salad while she put together seasoning for the chicken. Together they decided on frozen corn for a side, with a dish of sliced cucumbers, Amber’s favorite raw vegetable. Potatoes were drained and rinsed repeatedly in cold water to cool them down, and Lacey started frying the chicken while Amber poured corn kernels in a casserole dish for heating in the microwave. They agreed on celery and a little red pepper in the salad but no onion, and by the time Quinn came out of his office, the chicken was frying merrily in a pan, the salad was in a pretty scalloped bowl, and the microwave was running.
“What on earth is all this?” he asked, staring at the mess on the countertops.
“We made dinner! I helped! It’s your favorite, Daddy. Fried chicken!”
She looked up at him so happily that Lacey could tell he didn’t have the heart to scowl.
“Fried chicken? How did you know that’s my favorite?”
“Chicken and ’tato salad! Everyone knows that.” She rolled her eyes and Lacey laughed.
“You’re expected to stay, you know.” She said it softly, holding a pair of tongs in her hand. “I made enough for all of