To prove that point, Issy was on her feet and heading Lucy’s direction, little hands grasping her as she got close. She picked the child up and Issy brushed hands across her face.
“She likes you,” Maria said in wonder.
“I’m not that bad.” Lucy spoke softly as little hands tangled in her hair and the child’s forehead touched hers.
Dane’s child. She closed her eyes and held the little girl close for a few seconds longer than she’d intended.
“No, you’re not that bad. You do act as if you’ve never held a child before.”
“I’ve held a child. One, actually.” Her business partner, Daron McKay’s stepdaughter, Jamie. “I have to head back to the barn now and get some work done.”
Maria saluted. “Are you taking Issy with you?”
Taking Issy with her? She still held the child in her arms and Issy smiled, as if she knew the answer would be in her favor. She leaned close to Lucy’s ear. “Do you have a pony?”
“No, we don’t. But I think we have kittens. Do you want to see the kittens?”
Issy looked a little lost. “I can’t see the kittens.”
“No, but we can touch them and feel their noses.”
“Noses are wet.” Issy seemed proud of that observation.
“Yes, sometimes they are.”
“Okay, we’ll see the kittens.” Issy’s arms went around her neck and held tight. “And ride a pony.”
Lucy didn’t bother arguing about ponies. Dane would be home soon and the pony argument could be his to lose. As they walked toward the barn she noticed movement along the fence. It didn’t look like a dog or even a coyote. It looked like a person cowering, crawling and believing they were out of sight. Unfortunately she had Issy in her arms and she wasn’t about to go after them in the growing darkness and with a child on her hip.
* * *
The sun had long set when Dane pulled up to the Palermo ranch. A light glowed yellow in the living room window. He glanced at the digital clock on the dash. It was an hour past Issy’s bedtime. He rolled his shoulders as he sat there in his truck. The gesture didn’t do much to relieve the tension that had been building in his shoulder blades.
He forced himself to get out and head for the front door. As he climbed the steps he saw them through the sheer living room curtains. Issy and Lucy curled up on the sofa. His daughter was sound asleep, her mouth slightly open and one arm plopped over the side of the couch. The poodle slept on the floor but close to her hand.
Lucy was awake, her eyes on the door, waiting.
He didn’t knock, but instead quietly eased the door open and stepped inside. As he did, Lucy slid away from Issy and came to her feet. She put a finger to her lips as she moved away from the couch. Dane waited by the front door, unsure of what he should do. Lucy motioned him forward, gesturing toward the kitchen. He followed, with a quick look at his still-sleeping child.
The large country kitchen was lit with a single light above the sink. A lot of cleaning had been done since the last time he’d been in the house. It smelled clean. The counters were free of clutter. The biggest change was the woman leaning against the counter, her dark hair pulled back in a ponytail, her eyes wary as she shifted away from him, to fill the coffeepot with water.
“Are you okay?” she asked, her tone cool, matter-of-fact.
He might have guessed that she didn’t care, so cool was her tone. But there was warmth in her eyes, in the quick look she gave him as she started the coffee.
“Yes, I’m good. Sorry it took so long. I had to make several stops to get the equipment. Thank you for that text, it did help. And then when I got back, we had a water issue at the church.”
She crossed her arms in front of her and studied his face. “That expression is troubled.”
“A little.” Without asking, he pulled two mugs out of the cabinet.
It was the most domestic moment he could remember since before his daughter’s birth.
The thought took him by surprise as he watched Lucy reach into a cabinet for cookies, the package already open. It wasn’t a difficult thing, watching her move around a kitchen. She was quiet, not the type to fill the silence with empty words. Instead she took a couple of cookies and offered the package to him.
“So?” she prodded.
“I got a call from my ex-wife. First time she’s called in over a year.”
“Does she want something?” she finally responded as she was pouring coffee into the two cups.
“I’m not sure.”
He followed her to the table at the end of the room. The poodle joined them, jumping onto a chair and watching intently as they ate cookies. Lucy tossed the dog a small piece and then she waited, watching Dane as if she expected him to tell her everything.
He couldn’t remember the last time he’d talked about Tamara to anyone. Issy rarely asked about the mother she didn’t know or miss. His family and friends didn’t mention the wife who had walked out on him.
Every now and then someone, usually one of the older ladies at church, would ask him if he planned on remarrying. Because they thought he would want a wife and more children. He’d never planned on being a divorced father of one. It had just become who he was. He and Issy were a team. He’d avoided dating because if a child’s mother walked away, he wasn’t going to put other women in her life who might do the same.
“Do you want another cookie?” Lucy pushed the package across the table.
“Thanks,” he said, snatching two. “She wanted me to know she’s remarried. And pregnant. She asked about Issy.”
“Does she want to see her?”
“She didn’t mention a visit. She said she wants to keep a line of communication open. After all, Issy is going to be a big sister. Those were her words.”
They sat in silence for a few minutes. He thought maybe the personal conversation might have been more than Lucy had expected. She didn’t know Tamara. And for a dozen years she hadn’t really known him.
“Who knew this would be us as adults,” she finally said.
“What did you expect?”
She dipped a cookie in her coffee and shrugged. “I thought of myself far away from here. I pictured you married and raising kids. I’m sorry it didn’t work out.”
He stretched and beneath the table his foot brushed hers. He hadn’t meant for that to happen. Maybe if he’d been a few years younger, less jaded, less cautious. And maybe if the woman sitting across from him didn’t have that shuttered look in her eyes.
Maybe if she was a woman who had any intention of sticking around.
“More coffee?” she asked, surprising him. He thought she’d be in a hurry to show them the door.
“I’ll get it.” He took her cup with his to refill them.
As he poured the coffee she moved from her seat, surprising him when she joined him.
“Dane, I’m not good at this.”
“Good at what?” he asked as he handed her the cup of coffee.
She leaned against the counter, her gaze drifting away from him. “I’m not the person people generally turn to when they need to confide.”
He nodded, hiding the smile she wouldn’t have appreciated. “I understand. And I’ll confess, I don’t usually spill everything.”
That earned him her full attention, dark eyes meeting his, not wavering or looking away. “I’m glad you told me. After all, we’re neighbors.”
He cut her off with a grin. “Friends.”
She rolled her eyes. “Neighbors.”
“Right.” He took a step closer, bridging the distance between them. Her dark eyes clashing with his. There was a warning in them. One he should heed if he had any sense at all.
He wasn’t a complete fool. He knew she could knock him to the ground in a matter of seconds,
probably break his arm if she wanted, so he proceeded with caution. He set his cup down on the counter but kept his hands to himself as he leaned in and touched his lips to hers. He gave her a second to object. When she didn’t, he touched her back and pulled her closer, taking his time the way a man ought to. She brought both hands up to his shoulders, and instead of clinging there, she pushed him back. Her dark eyes snapped with anger.
“No.”
He closed his eyes at the word, because he should have been telling himself the same thing. “I’m sorry.”
“Of course you are,” she said so matter-of-factly he had to see if she looked as composed as she sounded. She did.
“I’m not sorry I kissed you,” he insisted.
“You will be. Tomorrow you’ll wake up and wonder what you were thinking. You’ll realize that a kiss between us complicates everything. I don’t want complications. I don’t want regrets.”
He brushed a hand through his hair, conceding to her rationale. “You’re right.”
“I know I am,” she said with conviction and the slightest hint of humor. “I can’t afford any mistakes right now.”
“Daddy?” The frightened cry brought him back to his senses.
“I’m here, Issy.” He walked away from Lucy.
She followed. He’d known she would. But he had to get to Issy. She wasn’t used to waking up in a strange place. At home she slept in a nursery attached to his room. The path between her room and his was free of clutter.
She stood next to the couch she’d been sleeping on, her little hand holding tight to the cushion, her bunny in her other hand. The poodle stood next to her.
“I’m here, Issy.” He reached for her and she flung herself into his arms. “It’s okay, sweetie. I’m here.”
She nodded against his shoulder, her hand coming up to touch his cheek, reassuring herself in the way she’d always done.
“Lucy made macaroni,” she whispered in his ear. “It was homemade.”
“Was it? And did you like it?”
She giggled. “It’s better than yours. And she had cookies.”
“I can’t believe hers are better than mine.”
His daughter belly laughed. “She even told me a story.”
“Did she?” He looked at the woman who said she dealt in facts, not emotion. He hated to tell her that his child and a kiss had blown her cover. Possibly for good.
Lucy Palermo might want to deny it, but she had a heart. A very decent heart. She might not wear it on her sleeve but it existed.
Lucy tilted her head. “I have my own recipe. If you’re nice, I’ll share.”
“I’ll be nice,” he agreed. “Can you help me tomorrow? Pastor Matthews is in a hurry to get the security system installed at the shelter.”
“I’ll help.” She acted as if she wanted to say more. When he gave her a pointed look, inviting her to say whatever was on her mind, she shook her head. “Some other time.”
“If you change your mind, you have my number.”
He gathered up his daughter and Lucy followed them to his truck, carrying Issy’s bag, filled with dolls, books and blocks. She stood nearby as he buckled Issy into her seat. Without a word she handed him the bag and took a step back as he closed the back door of the truck. The moon was full and bathed the farm in its silvery light. The barn and house were silhouettes against the dark backdrop of the sky. In the distance a coyote howled.
Lucy turned to go but he stopped her.
She shook her head at his hand touching hers.
“Still friends?” he asked.
“Neighbors,” she insisted. “Nothing has changed.”
He let go of her hand, then watched as she hurried back to the house. As the door closed with a firm thud, he got in his truck and drove away. She was right to put him in his place. He’d been wrong to kiss her. He’d gotten carried away in the moment.
The fact that it had felt like the most right thing he’d experienced in a long time was something he’d have to think about later.
Chapter Six
Lucy left the house early the next morning. Maria had still been in bed. She’d mumbled that she didn’t want to wake up. Ever. But she’d asked for food. Lucy had tossed her a package of soda crackers and promised something from Essie’s for lunch.
As she drove down the highway toward town, she noticed a car turning onto the driveway that led to the Scott ranch. As she got closer she could read the sign on the side of the car. Big Country Realty.
It was none of her business.
She didn’t need to know what Dane Scott was doing with his ranch. And maybe it was just a visitor. Someone from town going out to look at cattle. Maybe a friend of Haven’s.
He wouldn’t sell the ranch.
She turned on the radio to a country station. She didn’t care what Dane was up to. What mattered to her was Maria and the ranch. No, he definitely did not matter.
For years, Don’t Get Involved was her motto. It served her well. It kept her head in the game when it came to the protection business. Staying detached kept her focused.
But something had happened, because she was more involved than she’d been in years. She couldn’t—wouldn’t—walk away. Not from Maria. Not from the ranch.
An image flashed through her mind of a smiling little girl with blond ringlets. Issy Scott. Dane’s daughter was hard to resist. Lucy couldn’t imagine a mother walking away from that little girl.
She turned the radio up louder and focused hard on the road, because she wasn’t going to get emotional. She wasn’t going to allow herself to think about a mom who would walk away, the same way her own mom had.
That wasn’t what all moms did. They stayed and protected. They nurtured. They taught their girls to be strong.
She forced herself to sing along with George Strait as she drove through Bluebonnet. Because she wasn’t getting involved. She wasn’t.
She pulled into the parking lot of the church and realized she was a fraud. She was very much involved. Last night she’d cuddled on the couch with Dane’s daughter and sang her songs she remembered from childhood, from days that had been a little easier, sweeter. Today she was volunteering at a women’s shelter.
All signs of someone losing control of the thin thread of self-preservation.
Pastor Matthews met her at the front of the church. He was carrying a ladder but he managed a quick wave.
“Lucy, what a surprise. A blessing, actually.”
“I don’t know that I’ve ever been called a blessing.”
He laughed. “Most compliments are said behind a person’s back. A shame, really, because we should tell people when they’ve done something to enrich our lives. You’re definitely a blessing if you’re here to help with the security system.”
“I am,” she answered. She must have sounded hesitant because he shot her a quick look, quirking one brow in question.
She didn’t respond. She was there—that was what mattered.
“The system is in my office. I’d hoped we could take our time and hire someone to install it, but with the problems we’ve had, that isn’t an option.”
“Problems?”
He leaned the ladder against the side of the building and started to climb, pulling vines from the siding. “A husband or two intent on causing trouble.”
“Is there anything I can do to help with that?” she asked, reaching to hold the ladder that swayed with his movements.
“The security system is going to be a great help.” He yanked the last weed and climbed back down. “Dane’s here. He’s an electrical genius. He offered to help with wiring.”
Dane joined them as they were walking toward the back side entrance of the church. There was an awkward moment when he looked at her and she felt heat crawl up her neck. L
ast night had been a breach of her well-armed defense system. He’d caught her at a weak moment.
Today she was back in control.
“Problem?” he asked as he stepped to the side and motioned her through the door.
“Not at all,” she responded.
They entered through the kitchen door. There were women inside and what appeared to be a cooking class was taking place. Pastor Matthews greeted the women.
“We try to have classes here at the church. Cooking, budgeting, easy repairs. We’re getting computers hooked up in a few weeks and we’ll have courses available.”
“You’re doing a great job.” Dane thumped the pastor on the back. “This is exactly what we envisioned for the church.”
Lucy stopped midstride, her attention caught by the cautious look given her by one of the women in the kitchen. The other woman stopped midsentence as she was explaining how to make something with egg whites.
“Marsha Tucker?” Lucy asked, aware that Dane was standing near her right shoulder.
His presence shouldn’t have made her feel stronger. Or more secure. She was Lucy Palermo. She protected herself. She knew she could trust her business partners. But this felt different.
The other woman set down the bowl in her hands and smiled. “Lucy, it’s been a long time.”
Marsha’s husband, Chuck, had been an elder in her father’s church. They’d been real converts, always backing up the scripture that Lucy’s dad taught.
“It has been a long time,” Lucy concurred. “How are you?”
Marsha gave her a look of sympathy, which was almost more than Lucy could handle.
“Chuck left,” Marsha told her. “Actually, I helped him out of the house with his suitcase.”
“I’m glad you’re okay,” Lucy told her. And she meant it.
Dane’s fingers touched hers. It was gentle but sweet. Maybe a bit brave on his part. And she appreciated the gesture. At sixteen she’d felt safe with him. She’d never allowed another man to touch her heart or emotions the way he had.
She never wanted to feel that loss again. She took a deep breath and stepped away. “We should get busy.”
Second Chance Rancher Page 6
