by Jill Kemerer
“Well, you met her.”
He scanned the room. Tidy. Neat. Although nothing like the luxurious home he grew up in or the high-end condo he owned in Dallas, this apartment felt warm and inviting. The baby seemed to be in good care. He could leave with a clear conscience.
But he didn’t want to.
“I loved Sam. Miss him. This is his child. I want to be part of her life.” As soon as the words were out of his mouth, his stomach clenched. It was the first commitment he’d made in a long time. Was he up to being part of his niece’s life? He quickly added, “You know, visit her at times and send her birthday presents and stuff.”
“I see.” The muscle in her cheek flexed. “What you’re asking for is fair. But I need to know more about you. I have to know you’ll be a good influence on her.”
He frowned. She didn’t think he’d be a good influence on his own niece? She’d deduced this from the short time they’d been together? He wasn’t sure what to think about that. Most people fell all over themselves sucking up to him and trying to win his favor.
But that was because they knew he was rich.
And Gabby didn’t.
What would she do if he told her how much he was worth? Would she manipulate him to get her hands on some of the money? His own mother had done it many times. His ex, Robin, had tried, too.
On the other hand, if she didn’t know his background, would she find him worthy of being in Phoebe’s life?
Was he worthy? He ran his finger under his collar.
He’d been having an identity crisis for a year. When had he lost his confidence?
When Dad sold the company without even considering letting me run it.
“I’m starving. Why don’t I order a pizza and we can discuss this further?” Gabby rose, lifting Phoebe high in the air. Her little legs kicked as she laughed.
Pizza sounded good. After a year of gourmet meals, high-end hotels and surface conversations, talking to Gabby sounded even better. Normal, even.
How long had it been since he’d been treated like any other guy?
Not in grade school. Certainly not running around with other rich kids at prep school. College—nope—still hanging out with wealthy peers. The four years he’d worked in upper management at King Energy had ensured his days were spent in board meetings, on the golf course or reviewing the performance of the managers below him.
His old world no longer existed. For once he wanted to be an average Joe. But he’d have to be careful not to let Gabby guess his true background. He wouldn’t outright lie to her, but he’d be stingy with details.
The trust fund, the child support could wait. Just until he knew her better. Then he’d tell her the truth.
* * *
Why had she invited him to stay for pizza? Gabby paid the delivery guy and carried the steaming box to the kitchen counter. Her stupid heart had softened when he’d talked about his brother. It hadn’t been an act, either. Sam’s death had broken something inside him—just as Allison’s death had done to her. Her pity had kicked in, and she’d invited him to stay without thinking it through.
What had Eden said earlier? She was the most welcoming person she knew. Gabby scoffed. Not a good trait in this situation. She really had to put a clamp on her invitation-prone mouth.
“Let me help with that.” Dylan held out a twenty-dollar bill.
“No, thanks. I’ve got it.” She shook her head. “I was ordering one tonight no matter what.”
“Really, I want to—”
“No, you’re my guest.” She held out her hand. “I’ll grab a few plates.”
At least he’d offered to pay. But then, Carl had at first, too.
She might as well figure out Dylan’s work situation while she had him here. Phoebe was playing with the toys attached to the tray of the jumper seat near the couch, so Gabby pulled out a stack of paper plates and napkins from the cupboard. After grabbing slices of pizza, they returned to the living room. She sat on the couch, and he took a chair. Even several feet away, his presence filled the room. He seemed bigger, stronger—more appealing in general—here in her apartment than he had at the inn. And he’d been something special there.
This wasn’t a good turn of events. She’d already known she was attracted to him, so encouraging more interaction with him wasn’t smart.
She bit into her slice, oozing with mozzarella and pepperoni. Maybe he wasn’t slathering on the charm like Carl had, but she knew next to nothing about this strapping cowboy. He could be buttering her up for his own purposes. She needed to find out more about him.
“What do you do for a living, Dylan?”
He finished chewing. “I’m not employed at the moment.”
Bingo. Unemployed. She’d pegged him as a no-good cowboy the instant she’d seen him, and she always trusted her instincts.
“What kind of work did you do in the past?” She tried not to appear too eager for his answer. What had he said he’d been doing for the past year? Something about this and that. Hardly reassuring. He probably went from job to job when he got bored or restless.
“I guess you could say I work for hire.”
The cheese stuck in her throat. Just like Daddy. Just like Carl. They’d both traveled as cowboys for hire. Her father also occasionally had taken trucking gigs. Knowing Dylan was like the two men who’d let her down put her in a pickle. She had firm rules about cowboys—specifically about not dating them. But how did the rules apply to a relative of Phoebe?
“Is that what you’ve been doing since your father and Sam died? You mentioned being on the road for the past year.”
“Sort of.” He took a sip of soda. “I took time off. Needed to work through some stuff.”
How was he paying his bills if he’d been taking time off and traveling? If he was like Daddy, he was probably skimming money from a girlfriend or two. She liked her other idea better—that he was blowing through a small inheritance. But then, she couldn’t assume he’d inherited anything. His mom might still be alive.
“Did your mother take your father’s death hard?”
He choked and thumped his chest a few times. “Sorry. No, I doubt she’s given him a second thought.”
Her mouth dropped open, and she quickly closed it.
“They divorced when I was a toddler. No love lost there.”
“Did he remarry? And Sam came into your life through the new wife?”
“Dad never remarried. I’m his only child. Sam came into the picture with Mom’s third husband.”
So his mother had married Sam’s father. Made sense. Didn’t answer her question of how Dylan was supporting himself, though.
“It’s awfully hard to take so much time off when you have bills to pay.” She tried not to sound judgmental. But seriously, if he was taking time off and wandering around, how was he dealing with his responsibilities? Every adult had those.
His eyes sharpened and narrowed, but he didn’t say a word.
“How have you been supporting yourself?” She didn’t care if it was forward. She needed to know—for Phoebe’s sake. For her own. And she’d see right through him if he lied to her. She’d gotten good at sifting fact from fiction.
“I don’t need much.”
Hmm...he wanted to play the ambiguous answer game, did he? She wasn’t born yesterday.
“That’s a nice truck you drove to the inn earlier.”
“It’s a rental.” His eyes were unreadable. Warning flags waved in her brain. This back and forth reminded her of Carl, but back then she’d been a naive teenager. She’d wanted to accept every lie he told her. She’d believed the best in him. And she shouldn’t have.
Most welcoming person or not, she wasn’t putting up with any games Dylan wanted to play. Phoebe was too important. Her niece would not grow up being jerked around by some unreliable guy pretending to be somethin
g he wasn’t. She should know. Until she was eleven years old, she’d thought her father was the greatest man alive. But cold hard facts had shattered her notions about him.
“Look, I know we just met.” She set the plate on the end table and locked eyes with his. “In any other circumstances, it would be insulting for me to ask you what I’m about to ask. But this is my niece, and I can’t let her be around someone who isn’t reliable. Where are you getting your money to live on?”
He blinked once, twice, three times. Then his expression became unreadable. “My dad left me a little something.”
Relief spread through her like rain over a dry prairie. She’d been right. He’d come into some cash. Blowing through a small inheritance she could handle. Preying on gullible, lonely women, she could not.
“And you returned home because the money’s running out?” She didn’t wait for him to answer. “That’s fair.”
He opened his mouth but didn’t say anything.
“What are you going to do next?” She wiped her hands off on a napkin.
“I’m not sure.” His face fell.
There was something broken about him. She knew broken. If it wasn’t for the baby, she probably would have fallen apart a long time ago. The brittleness edging her curiosity softened.
“You’re struggling with their deaths, aren’t you?” she asked.
“Yeah.” He nodded, setting his plate aside. “I am. No matter where I go, it doesn’t change the fact they’re gone.”
“The traveling... Have you been trying to escape?”
“Maybe.” He drew his eyebrows together. “Looking back... I guess I might have been.”
“Does anything help you with the grief?” She’d been blessed with her support group—their prayers and meetings each week had gotten her through the toughest of times.
“Somewhat.” Their gazes locked, and the connection between them could not be denied. Flutters filled her chest. “My faith helps me hobble through.”
“It gets me through, too. I know I’ll see Allison someday.”
“I’m glad.” He sighed, dropping his elbows to his knees. “Faith wasn’t part of my life until a few years ago. As for Dad and Sam... I don’t know what they believed.” He arched his eyebrows.
Her and her big mouth. “I’m sorry. I didn’t think before I spoke.”
“It’s okay.” He seemed to see right through her. “You meant well.”
Phoebe started to fuss. She was probably hungry. “I’ll be right back. I’m going to fix her a bottle.”
A few minutes later, she took Phoebe out of the jumper seat and set her on her lap with the bottle. The baby snuggled in her arms as she drank it. This was one of Gabby’s favorite parts of the day. There was nothing more relaxing than having Phoebe cradled in her arms.
“Did you grow up around here?” He had an intent gleam in his eye as he watched them.
“No, Allison and I moved here to take care of our grandma after I graduated from high school. Allison was going into eighth grade.” She caressed Phoebe’s forehead, trying not to dwell on the other reason they’d moved to Rendezvous. She’d finally seen Carl’s true colors. The man she’d dated during her senior year of high school had been living a double life. She’d grown up fast after that.
“What happened to your parents?”
“Oh, they’re still alive and well. Mama lives down in Laramie with her boyfriend, and Daddy is probably charming some widow in Montana. I don’t talk to them much anymore.”
“And it’s just you and the baby? No husband?” He didn’t seem to be fishing about her love life with an ulterior motive, but what did she know?
“No, just us.”
“And you plan on staying here?”
She laughed. “Oh, yeah, Rendezvous is home. I can’t imagine living anywhere else. I have good friends here, and I love working at the inn...” She proceeded to tell him about her job and how she loved the town. He asked about the area and before she knew it, an hour had passed.
“I should get going.” He stood and took his plate into the kitchen. Then he walked over and touched Phoebe’s cheek. “You take care now, little one.”
“What’s next?” Gabby stood, carrying the baby, and followed him to the door.
“I don’t know. Let’s sleep on it and talk tomorrow.”
“Okay.” She frowned. “You can stop by after noon.”
He put on his hat, tipped it to her and left. After locking the door behind him, Gabby carried Phoebe back to the couch and stretched out on it. Impressions tangled in her mind.
She wasn’t sure what to make of him. He was easy to talk to—too easy. In fact, she’d done all the talking. She pressed her hand against her forehead. What was wrong with her? She was supposed to be finding out if he was worthy of being part of Phoebe’s life, not gushing about how much she loved Rendezvous.
Still, he had shown his vulnerability when it came to the deaths of his brother and father. But as far as his work history, his future plans...she’d completely flaked out on getting any concrete answers.
And once again she’d invited him over.
* * *
In all his travels, he hadn’t found this.
Dylan drove across Silver Rocks River and turned onto Centennial Street to drive through downtown Rendezvous. After 7:30 p.m., the sun was still out. Families entered and exited the few restaurants along the street, and once he passed the main businesses, a line appeared around an ice cream stand—the Dipping Dream. He slowed and pulled into a spot in front of a park. Green grass was dotted with picnic tables where people were barbecuing. The smell of grilled burgers reminded him summer had arrived. Rendezvous made it look slower, more fun than he was used to.
Little girls and boys stood near the playground equipment taking turns lassoing a fence post. He chuckled as one of the boys stuck out his tongue and a girl threw down her rope and began chasing him. They looked like they were having a good time.
From what he’d seen of the town, it appeared to be a place where everyone knew each other. He got out of the truck and enjoyed the warm breeze. A white gazebo was nestled in the park. Mature pines partially hid a ball diamond from his view, and he could just make out what appeared to be seven-year-old girls playing softball. Shouts erupted. Proud grandparents and parents stood up cheering.
An unexpected longing hit his heart. This was what community meant. Ice cream stands, barbecues with friends, peewee ball games—all things he’d missed out on as a kid. He hadn’t realized until this moment that he was still missing out on them.
Would Phoebe play softball? Would Gabby be in the stands jumping up to cheer her on?
Of course, Gabby would cheer the girl on. It was obvious she loved the baby. Who wouldn’t love the girl with her chubby cheeks and cheerful smile?
Earlier when he’d watched Gabby holding her and giving her the bottle, something had shifted inside him. The maternal picture they presented had kicked up a longing he’d never had before. For a brief moment, he’d wanted a child and a wife of his own who would love a baby the way Gabby did Phoebe.
“Na na na na na!” Up ahead, two little girls taunted a group of boys. Another round of chasing ensued. He shook his head. Kids being kids.
Gabby had been easy to talk to. The one red flag he’d had about her was when she’d probed into his financial situation. Why did she want to know what he’d been doing and how he’d been supporting himself for the past year? And what had the comment about his nice truck meant? Had she been trying to figure out how much money he had?
“Charlie!” A brunette in her early twenties waved to a couple of guys strolling toward the metal bleachers.
“Hey, Misty,” one said without breaking stride. “You watching the game? Emma’s playing.”
“I was on my way to get a sundae, but I might as well join you.” She jogged over to t
hem, and they all laughed about something. Their camaraderie deepened the stirring he’d been feeling for the past few hours.
Man, he was tired of being alone. He turned in the direction of Dipping Dream.
As he’d listened to Gabby talk about her life and friends here in Rendezvous, he’d found himself wishing she’d keep talking for hours. She seemed so genuine. And when she’d asked, “What next?” he’d had no idea how to respond.
What was next?
He supposed he should return to Dallas to set up the trust fund and child support. It had been a year since he’d checked in with any of his old friends. They’d been growing apart for a long time, though. The only people he’d had contact with at all this year were his lawyer and his financial advisor.
The thought of checking out of Mountain View Inn tomorrow and putting his life back together in Texas weighed on him. He didn’t know how to put it together. It all seemed meaningless without...
Maybe it was time to face facts. He’d spent his entire life trying to impress his father and get his attention. Now that Dad was gone, there wasn’t anyone to impress.
Dylan slowed as he neared the ice cream stand. He had to figure out what to do with his life. No more traveling around the world, delaying the inevitable.
What would it hurt to spend the rest of the weekend here? He could get to know Phoebe better and find out more information about how Gabby planned on raising her.
Come to think of it, he didn’t know much about either of them. He’d gotten so mesmerized listening to Gabby talk about the town, he’d barely asked any questions at all. He didn’t know her ideas on school and extracurricular activities. Who babysat his niece while she worked? What church did Gabby attend? Would she spoil the baby or be strict? Did she plan on having fun birthday parties for the girl? How would they celebrate Christmas? Would he be invited?
As he fell into the back of the line, relief mingled with peace.
Yes, he’d stay a few days and gather more info. He’d find out how Gabby intended to raise Phoebe. And if he didn’t like what she said, he might have to speak up. In fact, he might have to be more involved with the baby than he originally intended. Money was a poor substitute for a flesh and blood person who cared. He should know.
