A Mom for His Daughter

by Jean C. Gordon

  Surprisingly, Tori arrived at the school in record time. Her thoughts had been distracted by the handyman. Inside she took the left hallway to the kindergarten rooms. Her friend Shelley was also Lily’s teacher. She was hoping to find a few moments after class to talk to her before she headed home. Shelley’s little girl, Emily, was Lily’s best friend, and having them live next door had proved a real blessing. The girls spent hours together. It was really very sweet to watch them. Having a new friend close by had made Lily’s adjustment to moving to Dover easier. Tori thanked the Lord daily for all he’d provided in her new role as guardian and mother.

  It was a role she’d accepted at the request of her dying friend, but one she feared she was totally inadequate to handle. She’d never pictured herself as a mother. Never pictured herself as much at all. As the baby girl of the five Montgomery siblings, she’d been spoiled and pampered, but she’d never found her calling. Nothing seemed to hold her attention for long. She’d attempt a new job or a new skill and master it quickly. Then the boredom would set in and she’d go in search of something new to stimulate her mind. Three degrees, six jobs, dozens of crafts and three broken engagements later, she wasn’t any closer to finding her place in the world.

  That wasn’t exactly true. Being Lily’s mom had given her more satisfaction, more joy and delight than she’d ever known. It had also filled her with a fear of failure that kept her up nights. What if she made a mistake? What if she wasn’t as good a mother as Lily’s mom would have been?

  Tori stopped at the last door on the right. Her daughter’s room.

  Daughter. It was still odd to think of the child that way. Peeking in, she saw Lily and Emily at the craft table in the back, putting away the crayons. Shelley spotted her and came forward.

  “Hey. How’s it going with the old house?” She glanced at the paint stains on Tori’s faded cutoffs. “Been wielding a paintbrush, huh?”

  Tori chuckled. “Yes, and I made a mess of it. Would you believe I actually painted myself into a corner? I was afraid I’d be late picking Lily up.”

  Shelley slid a stack of books into the shelves behind her. “I could have brought her home with me.”

  “I know, but it’s my job. I shouldn’t pass it off on someone else.”

  “Now you know that’s not how it would be. You’re just trying to make a perfect life for Lily, but that’s not possible. No one has that. Stop worrying and enjoy your little girl.”

  “She’s not mine. She’s Judy’s little girl.” For the last year and a half, Tori had been living in California with her friend, providing care and support as she battled cancer. With no family, Judy had asked Tori to be Lily’s guardian and raise her the way she would have if she’d lived.

  “Wrong. You’re her mother now.” Shelley grinned. “So how did you get out of the corner?”

  “Oh. I was rescued by my handyman.”

  “You have a handyman now?”

  “I hope so. Floyd fired me.” She hastened to explain. “There’s always something around the place that needs to be fixed or repaired, and I’ve been calling Floyd to send someone over. But he can’t keep pulling guys off other jobs, and he’s going to start charging me for each call, so he suggested a guy who could work part-time and be on call for all my repairs.”

  “Can you afford it?”

  “No, but I don’t have a choice. If I’m going to have the bed-and-breakfast open for Thanksgiving week, I have to get all these repairs taken care of. Having someone on call would be a huge help. I already have four guests lined up. Everything has to be ready.”

  A little body pushed past Shelley and lunged at Tori.

  “Aunt Tori.”

  A rush of softness coursed through Tori’s body as she bent down to hug her little girl. “Did you have a fun day?”

  The dark curls shimmered as she nodded enthusiastically. “We made paper flowers. But we can’t show you yet. It’s for a surprise.”

  “That sounds like fun. I can’t wait.”

  Lily looked up at her teacher. “Can Emily come to our house and play when we get home?”

  Shelley touched Lily’s head lightly. “Sorry, kiddo. Emily has a dentist appointment today, but she can come over for a while later.”

  Lily pouted. “But I’ll miss her.”

  Tori hugged the girl. “You got a new book in the mail today. You can read it until Emily gets home.”

  “Yay! A book.”

  “We’d better go. I want to see how the handyman did, and maybe I can get him to take a look at the pocket door that’s jammed.”

  “So about this handyman,” Shelley prompted. “Old, young?”

  “Oh, he’s thirtyish, tall, dark, serious. I’ll let you know more if he works out.”

  “Are you working on the flood committee this weekend?”

  Tori nodded. “You?” Torrential rains last week had caused the Pearl River to overflow its banks, leaving serious damage to the west side of town. It had flooded several homes in an upscale neighborhood with four feet of water, but it was the homes farther downriver that had borne the brunt of destruction. The residents there had no insurance, no means of repairing or replacing their homes. Peace Community Church, along with other organizations in town, had formed committees to help pull out damaged walls and floors and rebuild the homes. Sadly, there were enough homes in need on that side of town to keep everyone busy for many weeks. Some had turned their attention to collecting furniture, clothing and household goods for them, as well.

  “I did, but I’m not sure how much help I’ll be. I’ve never cleaned out a flooded home before.”

  “Me neither, but my brother Linc said be sure and wear a mask because the stench is awful.”

  Shelley grimaced. “I suppose it is nasty work. But I can help.”

  “Are you sure?” Tori smiled as an image of the fastidious Shelley covered in grime formed in her mind. “I can’t wait to see that—Miss Spotless guts a house. I hope you have an appropriate outfit.”

  Her friend feigned insult. “I’ve got game. You wait and see.”

  Tori chuckled. “I’m going to take pictures. I know several people who won’t believe it without proof.”

  They said goodbye and Tori took Lily’s hand as they left the building, her thoughts still with the victims of the flood. She counted her blessings each time she thought about the people who had been forced from their homes. It put her problems into perspective. She faced a multitude of obstacles in getting her new

  B and B up and running, but it was nothing compared to losing everything.

  On the ride home Lily regaled Tori with stories from school, funny things she and Emily had done, and speculated on the book waiting for her at home.

  Tori was relieved to see that Reid’s dark blue truck was still parked at the curb when she pulled into the drive. The thought did cross her mind that she’d left a stranger in her house without a second thought. Then again, Floyd had sent him, so he must be trustworthy and qualified.

  Lily scurried ahead through the gate in the picket fence into the backyard. “Where’s my book?”

  Tori stopped on the walk when she saw the handyman sitting on the porch steps. He looked relaxed and at home. She started to smile, but his gaze latched onto hers and she caught her breath. He was studying her, sizing her up. She could sense his probing intellect reading her.

  She sucked in a breath and shook off the sensation. She was being silly. The man had a commanding presence to go along with his chiseled features. His jaw had been cut with a straight edge, his nose even and strong over a generous mouth. The air of intensity and mystery about him was both intriguing and unsettling.

  She stopped at the steps. Lily was already there staring. “Lily, this is Mr. Reid. He’s going to be helping around here for a while.”

  “Are you going to fix things? ’Cause we have lots of things that a
re broken.”

  Reid glanced at Tori, and the look in his eyes startled her. His mouth softened; his dark probing eyes warmed as he looked at her little girl. “Then I’ll do my best to fix them all.”

  Lily flashed her brightest smile. “Good, ’cause we have bee bees to get ready for.”

  Tori smiled and rested her hands on her daughter’s shoulders. “She means bed-and-breakfast guests.

  B and B. I want to have the house ready by the middle of next month. Will you be available during that time?”

  He looked at Lily. “I think I can work it out.”

  “Aunt Tori, where’s my new book?”

  “On the kitchen table.”

  The girl bounded up the stairs and hurried inside.

  Reid met her gaze with raised brows. “Aunt Tori?”

  His tone and gaze suggested there was more behind his question than mere curiosity.

  “Lily is my ward. I became her guardian when her mother died. Aunt Tori just sort of happened.” She faced her handyman and sensed his probing gaze again. He was gauging, trying to figure her out and making a mental list of her good and bad points. She looked away, flushed and uncomfortable. When she glanced back, the probing look was gone and his gaze was unreadable.

  Or was she merely being overly sensitive? It was happening more and more since she’d brought Lily back to her hometown. She questioned her decisions, second-guessed every move and read something negative in others’ comments and expressions too often.

  He stood. “I finished attaching the hardware. Is there anything else?”

  She had a long list, but for some reason she wasn’t ready to hand him another project. She took her phone from her purse. “If you’ll give me your number I’ll call you when I need you.”

  He took the phone from her hand and their fingers brushed, drawing their gazes together. Had he done that on purpose? He punched in his number. “Call anytime.”

  “We haven’t discussed your pay.”

  “There’ll be time for that later.”

  “Where are you staying?”

  “The Dixiana Motor Lodge. Not far.”

  Reid nodded and stepped past her, leaving a waft of his tantalizing aftershave in the air. She watched him as he walked away, his slow, easy gait in keeping with his controlled demeanor and his economy of words. She’d never met anyone who stirred so many questions. Nor someone who had caused her nervous system to quake so unexpectedly. A sudden shiver chased up her spine. Had she done the right thing in hiring him?

  In the kitchen of the main house, Tori saw the gleaming new cabinet hardware Reid had installed. He’d even placed the old handles in a small box. At least he was considerate.

  Picking up the box, she started toward the table where she’d been collecting items to take to the attic later. She glanced at the sunroom and blinked. The unfinished patch in the corner was painted. The evidence of her faux pas was gone. Had the handyman done that? How had he managed? More important, how thoughtful of him to have finished it. She’d have to thank him. His credentials shifted her opinion up a notch. He’d completed the task she’d requested neatly and had even gone the extra mile on the floor. Maybe she’d found the right man after all. She needed someone she could depend on if the house was going to open on time.

  Floyd had come through again. He’d sent her a skilled worker to take on all the minor repairs. It was an added bonus that he was easy on the eyes. Which didn’t matter a wit. Handsome men were a dime a dozen. All she was interested in were his skills.

  Despite that, she still wondered about the odd sense of connection that had passed through them earlier. Her imagination. That’s all it was. She’d merely been reacting to being rescued like a damsel in distress.

  She was no damsel, and she didn’t need to be rescued. But she did need a man who could fix things.

  Copyright © 2017 by Lorraine Beatty

  ISBN-13: 9781488090264

  A Mom for His Daughter

  Copyright © 2017 by Jean Chelikowsky Gordon

  All rights reserved. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on-screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, down-loaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereafter invented, without the express written permission of publisher, Harlequin Enterprises Limited, 225 Duncan Mill Road, Don Mills, Ontario, Canada M3B 3K9.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events or locales is entirely coincidental. This edition published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.

  ® and ™ are trademarks of the publisher. Trademarks indicated with ® are registered are registered in the United States Patent and Trademark Office, the Canadian Intellectual Property Office and in other countries.

  www.Harlequin.com