by Lori Foster
Autumn figured he wanted to offer her sister something altogether different. “Maybe if you were nicer to him...?”
“I’m nice to everyone.” Turning back with a grin, she said, “Next time we shear the sheep, I’m going to offer to give him a trim, too.”
“I like his hair longer.” It curled against his neck, but didn’t quite touch his big shoulders.
“Because you, sister dear, are into the messy look.” Giving her a critical once-over, Ember nodded. “You know, Mike is right. You do look nice without a lot of makeup.”
“Dad calls makeup war paint.”
“Dad enjoys harassing Mom.”
“And Mom enjoys the attention.”
Ember hesitated, then released a long breath. “I’m sorry about mentioning your sweaty head.”
Good God, Ember made her sound like the Niagara Falls of perspiration. “I’m often outside measuring stuff, you know.” A lot of her design work was specifically geared toward kids’ rooms and play areas, but she also created outdoor living spaces, man caves, she sheds, converted garages and more.
“I work outside, too,” Ember pointed out.
“But you would never admit to sweating.”
“Very true.” She smoothed a long hank of Autumn’s hair, then let her hand linger on her shoulder. “Anyway, I’m sorry. It was a stupid thing to say. Mike makes me... I don’t know. Mean?” Liking that word, she nodded. “He makes me mean, but I should save all my meanness for him, not you.”
Of all the ridiculous things! “He’s an amazing employee. Why would you be mean to him?”
“He ignores me.”
Autumn snorted. “No, he doesn’t.”
“He treats me the same as the animals. Or—” she wrinkled her nose “—Mom and Dad. It’s disturbing.” Ember flagged a hand. “He jokes with you, like you two are close pals, and I’m just a shadow hanging around.”
Sudden comprehension widened Autumn’s eyes. “You want him to be interested.”
Ember sniffed, doing her best to look unaffected. “Maybe a little, but I shouldn’t have insulted you to get it.”
Especially since that tactic had backfired. Still a little amazed, Autumn said, “So you—”
“At least the jeans fit you instead of being all baggy.” She tugged on a belt loop, almost pulling Autumn off her feet. “And I like your shirt. That’s a good color for you.”
Glancing down at her own chest, Autumn admired the bright tangerine hue. Personally, she thought it added color to her cheeks. “It’s nice, right?”
“Very.” With a glance at the clock, Ember urged her toward the door. “If you don’t leave now, you might be stuck behind the train and then you’ll be late.”
Since Tash was on the other side of the lake, and it didn’t make sense to take the boat then walk several blocks, she’d have to drive around and that meant crossing the railroad tracks.
“Well, shoot.” She snatched up her big satchel of design materials, her portfolio, so she could show her previous projects, and slung the strap of her loaded purse over her shoulder.
Ember surprised her by kissing her cheek. “Go get him.”
“Get the job, you mean.” This trip—nice shirt and all—wasn’t about anything else. But she had to admit, having Ember’s approval of her overall look gave her added confidence. “I’ll see what he wants first.”
Bobbing her eyebrows, Ember grinned.
“Stop that.” Fighting a laugh at her sister’s antics, Autumn shoved open the door and hurried to her truck, aware of Ember standing there smiling like a sap...and looking like she knew a secret.
Chapter Two
An-n-nd...of course, her air-conditioning died while she was stuck waiting for the train to pass.
For several minutes she vigorously fanned herself with a sheath of papers, which sort of, maybe, stirred the thick air a little.
Kentucky in July wasn’t for wimps. On top of the ninety-plus temps, humidity settled on everything, curling her papers, expanding her hair, leaving her skin dewy and gluing her clothes to her skin.
Arriving at the address Ember had given her a solid five minutes late, she hurried from the truck and started up the walk.
Sunset, Kentucky, was a small town that, like the home she shared with her sister, had a definite divide. One side of the lake boasted farms and acreage, some heavy woods and a wide creek.
On the other side, several communities—some waterfront, some not—seemed to fill up every foot of space. This was where residents did their shopping, saw doctors or dentists and enjoyed entertainment other than swimming and boating. Two movie theaters, several restaurants, a roller rink, miniature golf and one rather rinky-dink “nightclub” made this side of Sunset the happenin’ place.
Overall, Autumn preferred the quiet life on the farm, but since she did most of her regular work here, she was familiar with all the streets.
The address for Tash led her to a cozy white clapboard house with a somewhat barren yard. There were only a few trees, but since his house was in a newer section of homes, maybe landscaping was still on the agenda. Admiring the house, with its dark shutters and paned windows, she’d almost reached the porch before she realized a young girl was peeking at her through the rails.
Pausing, Autumn tipped her head. “Hello.”
Vivid blue eyes watched her. “I can’t talk to strangers.”
“Good rule.” She double-checked the address. “I was looking for Tash Ducker? Maybe I’m at the wrong place.”
“That’s my dad.”
Disbelief glued her feet to the walkway. Her mouth opened, but nothing came out. Dad? Tash had fathered this beautiful little girl?
The blue eyes narrowed warily. “What do you want?”
For such a tiny person, she did a fair job at showing hostility. “I have an appointment with Mr. Ducker.”
Still scrutinizing her, the girl went to the door, yanked it open and bellowed, “Dad!” In one hand she clutched a beat-up Barbie, and in the other a water gun.
Autumn heard hurried, heavy footsteps, and a second later, Tash stood there, filling up the doorway and sending her thoughts into a tailspin.
Oh, my.
Yup, he still looked crazy good. He still made her heart trip. He still...well, none of that mattered.
Tash was a father.
With a height over six feet and shoulders plenty wide, he seemed a Goliath next to his petite daughter.
“There’s a stranger here,” the girl announced.
He looked up and spotted Autumn standing there like a statue, then relaxed with a welcoming smile.
“Damn, I forgot.” Stepping out, hand extended, he said, “Autumn, hey. Good to see you.”
His brown eyes were the same, the color nothing extraordinary...except for the piercing intensity, the warmth and maturity that seemed to physically hold her.
He’d changed. Duh. One of the changes was sizing her up with ripe suspicion. A cute little red-haired, blue-eyed change.
Her mouth went dry, until Tash’s smile quirked.
It hit her that she just been standing there, openly gawking at him.
Get it together. Surging forward, her face hot, she managed to juggle her load and free one palm. Fortunately, she sounded mostly casual when she said, “You, too.”
After briefly gripping her hand, he turned to his daughter and smoothed her stunning red hair. “Honey, don’t yell like that, okay? I thought pirates were kidnapping you.”
She snorted with every bit as much verve as an adult. “She didn’t even get close. Besides, I’m not a baby. I wouldn’t let anyone take me.”
His smile widened but his tone sounded grave when he said, “Of course you wouldn’t. You love me too much to leave me, right?”
She rolled those heavenly blue eyes. “Yes.”
Hand to his chest, h
e feigned relief. “Whew. Good. So the next time you see a stranger, just keep your distance, come inside and calmly call for me, okay? See this?” He pointed to his throat. “My heart is still up there.”
She giggled and leaned into his leg, getting a one-armed, very affectionate hug.
Wow. He wasn’t just a dad. He was an awesome dad and she wanted to melt. Autumn looked at the adorable girl again. A purple-unicorn shirt worn over orange shorts with pink sandals clashed with her deep red hair. Beautiful hair—long, thick and silky.
Her eyes, a very bright blue, were far more striking than her own, and very direct when she glanced at Autumn again.
Tash said, “Autumn, this is my daughter, Sadie. Sadie, meet Ms. Somerset.”
Extending her hand again, Autumn smiled. “It’s nice to meet you, Sadie.”
Still brusque, she gave her tiny hand for a quick greeting, then asked, “Why are you here?”
Charmed by her blunt manner, Autumn lifted a shoulder. “Actually, I’m not sure yet since my sister set up the appointment for me, but I bet your dad will tell me.” She turned back to him and caught his curious scrutiny. “Or did you need to reschedule?”
“No, I wouldn’t do that.” Quickly, he held open the door. “Come on, Sadie. Join us.”
“I want to stay out here.”
Patiently, he said, “But I want you inside, so inside you go.”
Sadie stubbornly held her ground. “I’m watching birds.”
“They’ll be there tomorrow.”
“Not the same ones.”
“Sadie,” he said, his voice soft but insistent.
Grumbling, the little girl gave her a dirty look, as if she had any say in it, and preceded them into the house.
“We just got here a few days ago,” Tash explained as he led her past a few large shipping boxes. “We’re still unpacking and setting up. Since I saw Ember, we’ve had a dozen things come up.”
Following him to the kitchen, where something smelled really good, Autumn said again, “I really don’t mind if you need me to come back another time.” She could use the time to regroup, to get used to the idea that this particular man was back in town, still a hunk, but now a father.
And...oh. Did he have a wife tucked away somewhere? She glanced around, but didn’t find anyone else. Surely Ember wouldn’t have been so intent on matchmaking if he was married.
“Now is fine, if you don’t mind the mess. Here, have a seat.” He pulled out a chair at the table, his attention glued to her face.
Autumn paused.
“You haven’t changed at all.”
That alone proved how little he remembered her, because she’d seriously changed a lot. “Neither have you.”
His gaze cut to Sadie. “Oh, I don’t know about that.” He watched his daughter get into her seat, then thunk the Barbie and gun down on the table. Suddenly, he sniffed the air and turned fast. “Tacos.” He went to the stove to stir something in a skillet. “You like them?”
She and Sadie said, “Yes” at the same time.
Mortification rushed through Autumn. “I’m sorry. I thought you were asking me.” Oh, that sounded bad. “Not that I’m inviting myself to eat! I wouldn’t. But, of course, everyone likes tacos—”
“I was talking to you,” he said over his shoulder, his smile twitching at her nervous chatter. “I already knew Sadie liked them.”
Swinging her legs, Sadie sat back in her seat and studied them both. “How old are you?”
Laughing, because she’d just been wondering the same thing about Sadie, Autumn said, “I’m a few years younger than your dad.”
“So thirty-two.”
Wow, smart. “Yes. We knew each other in school. Or rather, I knew who he was. We weren’t really friends or anything.”
“You didn’t like him?” Sadie asked.
“She didn’t know me well enough to like me,” Tash said as he moved to a cutting board, where he expertly diced tomatoes. “In high school, the difference between a sophomore and a senior is a pretty big deal.”
“Oh.” Sadie eyed her anew. “I’m seven.”
Amazing. “I would have guessed a little older. You’re mature for your age.”
Beaming, Sadie nodded. “That’s what Dad says, too.” She slid off her seat, swiped a piece of tomato and peeked into the pan. “I’m hungry.”
“You’re always hungry.” He hugged her into his side. “Not too close to the heat, honey.”
“Mom used to let me cook.”
He paused for a heartbeat, then teased, “I must be more of a worrier than she was.”
Was? Had Tash’s wife passed away? Autumn sat very still, feeling horrible for them both.
“Why don’t you ask Ms. Somerset what she wants to drink?”
Sadie sidled over to her. “You want a beer?”
“Sadie.”
Shoulders scrunched, she glanced back at her dad. “That’s what Mom and her friends always wanted.”
“We don’t have any beer here, right? Offer cola, iced tea or water.”
Disgruntled with that order, Sadie mumbled, “What do you want?”
Just what was going on here? Autumn tried to affect a carefree smile. “You know what, Sadie? You’re about the most adorable, precocious little girl I’ve ever met. I think I’m going to trust you to choose for me.”
Not budging, Sadie studied her. “What’s p’cosis.”
“Precocious. It means intelligent and sassy and wise beyond your years.”
After giving it some thought, Sadie said, “You can have a cola.”
Assuming that was a treat, Autumn thanked her.
Tash caught her eye and gave a nod of gratitude. She didn’t have any idea what was going on, but she sensed some heavy-duty undercurrents.
What really surprised her? Seeing him, looking right at him, didn’t befuddle her at all. He mouthed, Thanks, and she smiled in return.
On the way to the table, Sadie dropped the cola on the floor. It rolled up to Tash’s foot before it stopped.
“Oops.” Autumn turned to her...and went still at the stricken expression on the girl’s face. She’d gone completely still, seemed tense and wary.
Tash saw her, too, and immediately dried his hands. As if it meant nothing at all, he said, “We must have the dropsies today, huh?”
Dropsies? Did grown men say things like that? Apparently men who had young daughters did.
“Did I tell you I dropped the seasoning packet for the beef? Luckily, it was closed, like the cola.” He set the can in the sink, still talking, his voice calm and moderate. “After that I dropped the cheese, but it was open so a bunch spilled everywhere. Took me a bit to get it all swept up.”
Autumn’s eyes went past him to the counter, where she saw a new pack of shredded cheese...unopened.
He scooped up his daughter for a hug. She was very tiny in his arms. “Accidents happen, baby.”
“But...we have company.”
“So? The Pope and president could both be here and it wouldn’t matter, I promise.”
“And I’m neither,” Autumn said, feeling her way. “I’m just a friendly neighbor who does her own fair share of dropping things, so I didn’t think a thing of it.”
After putting a loud smooch to Sadie’s forehead, Tash set her back on her feet and said, “Grab Autumn another cola, then go wash your hands. I’ll have your plate ready for you when you get back.”
Sadie, still seeming unsure, looked at her, then her dad, and back again.
Pretending she didn’t feel the tension, Autumn launched into babble. “You want to talk about dropping things? This one time, I was carrying a bucket of feed for a bunch of hungry hens and dropped it. Feed went everywhere and the feathers were flying! The ninnies always have fresh feed available, but they carried on like they’d found gold.
I ended up slipping, and even tore my pants.” She threw in a laugh for good measure. “Know what happened then?”
Sadie asked, “You have chickens?”
She nodded. “While I was down, Delilah gave me a solid headbutt and I went face-first into the mud. At least, I hope it was mud. With a lot of animals around, it’s sometimes hard to tell. Delilah is our goat, by the way, not my sister—though my sister probably would have laughed herself silly.” Seeing Sadie’s fascination, she continued. “Then Franklin, our ornery old sheep, almost jumped on me, but luckily I got out of the way in time.”
Eyes huge, Sadie asked, “You have goats and sheep?”
“And horses, a mule, two pigs—as of yesterday—ducks and a dog.”
Tash carried a napkin holder and sour cream to the table. “I had no idea. You run a farm?”
“Animal sanctuary.”
Surprised, he said, “I thought you were a designer.”
“That, too. Ember and I inherited the farm from our grandparents, and our jobs help supplement what we need to care for the animals.” She said to Sadie, “Why don’t you get your hands washed, and then I can tell you both all about it. That is, if your dad has enough time...?”
“Can’t wait to hear it.” He put his hand to Sadie’s back. “Get them clean, and I promise we won’t talk about animals until you get back.”
Like a shot, Sadie raced down the hall.
His expression contained, Tash stood there, gazing at the doorway she’d gone through, then he turned to Autumn. “Thank you for that. I’m discovering that things with her mother weren’t always great.” He briefly clasped her shoulder, his touch warm and heavy, before he moved away. “You did a great job stepping into the unknown. Not many could have handled that so seamlessly.”
“I’m glad I didn’t make anything worse.” Posing it as a question, she said, “Sadie seemed awfully upset over something so simple.”
His mouth firmed. “Her moods jump around enough to keep me guessing, but we’re getting there.”
That didn’t really tell her anything. It wasn’t her business, yet she felt compelled to ask, anyway. “I don’t mean to pry, but...you’re divorced?”
Keeping watch on the doorway, he worked his jaw. “For years now. We shared custody, but...it was complicated.” He shook off his mood. “Sorry. None of this is your problem.”
