Little Cowgirl Needs a Mum / Once Upon a Proposal. Patricia Thayer
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“I’ll do that.” He followed Jenny toward the back of the shop. She went to the office, then bypassed it. “The bookkeeper is working in there.”
Evan was surprised when Jenny opened another door that led to a staircase and started up. He followed her, and they ended up in her apartment.
He looked around, and then walked to the narrow window. “You can see Main Street.”
“Yeah, the view sold me on the place.”
He turned his attention to her. She looked tempting in fitted jeans and a tapered green blouse. Her sunny hair hung around her face and thin bangs brushed her forehead, highlighting her big brown eyes. She didn’t wear much makeup, giving her a fresh-scrubbed look. His gaze went to her full mouth and her perfect lips.
He shook away the direction of his thoughts. “Okay, what’s this change of plans?”
She blew out a breath. “You were right.”
He didn’t expect her to say that. “About what?”
“Gracie is too young to handle the complicated quilt pattern.”
He folded his arms across his chest. “Isn’t that what I tried to tell you from the beginning?”
“You did,” she conceded. “But what you didn’t realize about your daughter was she needed some independence. And she had to attempt to do the quilt before anyone could convince her otherwise. It seems stubbornness runs in your family.”
“You think I’m stubborn? You’re the one who wouldn’t let go of this.”
“But it helped. Can’t you see the difference in her?”
He nodded. “All right. She has been happier these last few weeks. But she has to be disappointed that she can’t finish the quilt.”
Jenny shook her head. “Oh, she’ll finish it, but she’s willing to wait.” She smiled. “And she got the one thing she truly wanted.”
“What was that?”
“Your attention.”
“She’s always had my attention,” he said.
“On your terms. The only outlet she had was school.”
“We live in the country.”
“But your daughter is growing up, she needs to socialize. And this class has helped her.”
Had he been that selfish? “Don’t forget I let her have a sleepover. But I’ll always want to protect her no matter how old she gets.”
“Of course, and she’ll always need that from you, along with your love.”
“She’s always had that, from the day she was born.” Evan felt the familiar sadness. “I never want her to ever doubt that.” He walked away then turned back to Jenny. “There were days when that little girl was the only reason I got out of bed. She kept me going.”
Jenny nodded, trying not to reach out and offer comfort to this man. She was already too involved. “And you helped your daughter get through losing her mother. She wants to help you, too. She knows how sad you’ve been.”
His blue eyes met hers. “You seem to know a lot about her.”
Jenny shrugged. “I was a stranger when she first talked to me. That made it easier for her.”
“You are easy to talk to. Thank you for spending time with Gracie, especially for last weekend’s sleepover.”
That was her, the person everyone wanted to share things with, to be friends with. Last weekend, when Evan had nearly kissed her again, she’d known it was a bad idea. She’d already gotten a taste of his loving family, something she’d always longed for, giving her ideas of having a piece of it.
“That might have created more problems.” She held his gaze as it did crazy things to her stomach, but she continued. “It changes things now, Rafferty, we might never be able to go back. You aren’t ready.”
“For what? To kiss you again? Hell, yes, I’m ready.” He was more than ready for her. He moved closer, stopping directly in front of her. He caught her scent. It was intoxicating. Feelings for her whirled in his head. “If you’re honest, Jenny, you’d admit you want it too.”
“That doesn’t make it the right thing to do.”
“No, it doesn’t.” He leaned toward her. “All my energy needs to go into keeping the ranch afloat and being a father to my daughter.” He released a breath. “But you’re the one I’ve been thinking about in the middle of the night. You’re the one I want to hold in my arms, want to kiss—”
She looked up at the ceiling. “Oh, Rafferty, why are you doing this to me? We’re headed in different directions. Starting anything would be foolish.”
Hell, he didn’t want to get involved, but it had already happened. “Yeah, you’re right about that. It would be the craziest thing ever.”
“For once we agree.” Her voice was breathy. “We’ve only shared a kiss. No harm done.”
Damn. There’d been plenty of damage. To his sleep, to his peace of mind. Lately, to his sanity.
There was a knock on the door at the bottom of the stairs and Millie called up to her. “Jenny, there’s a phone call for you.”
“Can you take a name and a message?”
“He says it’s important, a Todd Newsome.”
Evan watched the blood drain from Jenny’s face. “I’ve got to go.”
He stopped her. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing,” she said, pulling away, then she went down the steps.
He followed, but she wasn’t going to tell him anything. So, she had a past.
She looked back at him. “It would be better if you concentrate on your daughter, Evan. I’ll be leaving in a few months. I’ll be going back to my job. This has to be the end of it.”
Before he could say anything, she took off down the stairs. By the time he reached her, she’d taken the cordless phone from Millie and gone to a quiet corner. Her rejection should drive him away, but he wasn’t ready to give up; something wouldn’t let him let go of her.
Jenny had prayed she’d never hear from Todd ever again. Her stepbrother had caused her enough trouble to last a lifetime. But over the years he kept showing up like a bad penny.
She punched in the hold button. “What do you want, Todd?”
“Is that any way to greet your big brother, sis?”
“You’re not my brother. And I thought you were in jail.”
“I got out early for good behavior.”
“Fine. Have a good life and stop bothering me.”
“Whoa, sis. It wouldn’t be a good idea to hang up on me. What would Mom say?”
Jenny stiffened. Her mother had been Todd’s only supporter after his last drug offence.
“Go call her and ask.” She turned around and saw that Evan was still there. “Look, Todd, I need to go back to work.”
“I’d like to do the same, but I don’t have a job. Maybe you can set me up in a job with your fancy friends?”
How did he know? Her mother. She’d probably mentioned her job with the Casalis in letters. “I wouldn’t ask any of my friends to hire you. You’re unreliable. Shouldn’t your parole officer help you find something?”
“I don’t particularly want to be a dishwasher or a janitor.”
“Why not? It’s honest work.”
“I