Babies and a Blue-eyed Man

by Myrna Mackenzie

  Rachel sat down at her desk and turned back to her computer. She breathed in the soothing scent of wood shavings, determined to restore her former good mood.

  Hey, yesterday was gone, just like her adolescent crush on Sam. Her life was rich with friends and family. Her days were fun and...satisfying. She was a woman who’d always known her future was filled with intriguing possibilities. And Sam was just an embarrassing glitch in her past. No way was she going to give the man another thought.

  Shaking her head at her ridiculous skittishness, Rachel went back to work with a smile. She looked out the window and saw that the day was still blue and perfect. The arrival of a single long-lost man wasn’t even going to make a dent in her good mood.

  ~ ~ ~

  Rachel was bent over a cabinet, filing invoices, when she heard footsteps behind her. Turning slowly, she looked up...and found herself staring right into Sam Grayson’s intensely blue eyes.

  “Sam...” Her voice faltered. How had the man gotten in here without Hal giving her any warning? And where was Hal, anyway?

  Stepping back, she took a long, deep breath, studying him even as he stared at her. The years had changed him. The muscles beneath his blue shirt were clearly defined, his thighs were more powerful. He wore blue jeans that had faded nearly to white around the zipper, emphasizing his masculinity. Sam had clearly left his teens behind.

  Swallowing, Rachel slid her gaze from his zipper, seeking the safer territory north of Sam’s crotch. She noticed that his black hair had early traces of silver at the temples now, but it looked good on him. He looked good. Too bad. She had thought that time might have turned him fat and dumpy.

  “Hello, Rachel. It’s been a long time,” he finally said, and his voice reminded her of...yesterday. Deep and husky, it had always felt like a stroke against her feverish skin. She bit back a curse, focusing on the Stetson hat he was dangling from one finger.

  “Hi, Sam. Nice hat. Maybe you’re passing through on your way home to Texas?” she asked hopefully.

  Sam leaned against her desk, his long legs stretched out before him. He plunked his hat down dead center in the middle of her paperwork, then locked his gaze with hers.

  “I see time hasn’t changed you, Rachel. You’re still just as sweet as ever. But don’t get your hopes up about Texas. Haven’t you heard? I’m coming back to haunt you.”

  Unable to look away, Rachel took a deep, shuddering breath. How absolutely aggravating that Sam still had the ability to affect her respiration. And it sounded like he really was here to stay. This wasn’t just a brief family reunion.

  “So you’re really moving home,” she said, hoping she sounded flippant enough. “I’m surprised I hadn’t heard anything until today...” She kept her gaze on his, trying to hide her uncertainty about what was going on. Why was Sam coming home after all these years, and why was he in here talking to her of all people when Hal was—where in the world was Hal? She craned her neck, trying to see out the window.

  A slow smile lifted one corner of Sam’s lips. “Don’t worry. He’s still there, Rachel. We’ve been outside talking, and we’ll talk again in a little while. I’m having dinner with him tonight to discuss how I can help him in the operations of Grayson Lumber. As for not hearing sooner, well, I just didn’t want any fanfare. I asked Uncle Hal not to say anything. He wasn’t even sure when I was coming until this morning.”

  Rachel wished he was talking to Hal and not her at this very minute. She braced her palms on the legs of her jeans in an effort to keep her hands still. She didn’t want to make polite conversation with Sam Grayson. She especially didn’t like the nervous, trembly sensations that were coursing through her body, making her feel like she needed to lean against something—or someone.

  Clearing her throat, she plucked a pen from her desk. She twisted the cap off, then snapped it back on again. “Why, Sam? You’ve been gone a long time. Why bother to come back now?” she asked, trying to sound as casual as possible.

  Sam raised one eyebrow, and Rachel wondered if she was being too personal. Did she have a right to ask those kinds of questions? Wouldn’t anyone want to know?

  Shrugging, Sam watched her restless movements as she capped and uncapped the pen. She froze, realizing that she was fidgeting.

  “Times have changed. I’m not a wild teenager anymore, Rachel. I have children,” he said, pulling a picture from his wallet and handing it to her. “Right now they need stability. Janey and Zach, the twins, need room to run, and Annie—” Sam cleared his throat and slid one hand across his jaw. “Annie needs much more than she has right now.”

  Rachel tried not to notice the look of concern that crossed Sam’s face. It reminded her too much of how good he had been to her when she’d first met him. She had thought it was because there was something special between them, until—no, she wasn’t going to think about that now.

  Staring at the snapshot, Rachel saw three little darlings smiling back at her. The twins, with bright, liquid brown eyes, and dimples that dented their chubby cheeks. And the child with big blue eyes and a sober little heart-shaped face had to be the one he’d called Annie. Blue glasses sat crookedly on her nose, and Rachel had an irresistible urge to gently place them back where they belonged. Her heart dropped into a free-fall as she looked at those babies. These were Sam’s children, his own flesh. He loved them, it was clear, and he was bringing them back to Tucker, where she would see them all the time. She would see Sam all the time...every day, and that was the last thing she wanted.

  She’d spent years pushing the man to the back of her mind, and that was where she intended for him to stay.

  Stealing one last look at Sam’s children, Rachel returned the picture to him. Long seconds of silence stretched out.

  “They’re beautiful, Sam, and I can understand why you’d want them to grow up in a place like Tucker. Still, that doesn’t explain one thing,” she finally said, scratching one unpolished nail carefully along the rimmed edge of the desk. “You’re here in town, but...why are you here?” She looked around the cramped and cluttered office.

  He tilted his head to one side. His blue eyes narrowed as if he didn’t really like that question. “I’m part owner of this place, remember? With all the expansion Uncle Hal’s been planning, he could use another set of hands to help him run the yard.”

  “Yes, but your uncle is outside. I’m the only one in the office, and you and I both know that we—well, you can’t blame me for wondering why you’d want to talk to me.”

  A sudden image of the way Sam had looked as she’d left him standing empty-armed on a crowded dance floor pushed into Rachel’s thoughts. She would have sworn Sam was not the type to hold a grudge, but as he’d said, times had changed.

  “Maybe you wanted something from the files?” she asked hopefully, when he didn’t answer right away.

  Sam straightened up slowly. He raised one eyebrow and held out his hands, like a man asking a woman for a dance.

  Rachel felt her face growing warm.

  He lowered his hands and smiled slightly. “No, Rachel. I don’t need any files, but it looks to me like you need a break,” Sam said. “Let me take you out for a soda. For old times’ sake.”

  For old times’ sake. But there were no old times. Not between her and Sam, anyway. Rachel started to shake her head, but she realized that several contractors had walked in the door. She also remembered that Sam was her employer.

  “I don’t think that’s a good idea,” she still managed to say, standing her ground. Several more men had come in, curious about the man who would also be giving the orders from now on, she imagined. They were milling around and pretending to be reading the signs on the wall, the same signs that had been hanging there for at least five years.

  Sam looked at them, then targeted her with his bright blue gaze.

  “We’ve got business that has nothing to do with Grayson Lumber, Rachel. I’ve got a good reason for darkening your door, but I’d rather not take it up here. How about
you?”

  Sam had moved closer, so that he couldn’t be heard. He was still a good six inches behind her, but close enough that Rachel could feel him there. A shiver ran through her. “It’s not my lunch hour yet,” she said quietly.

  “It is now,” he insisted, taking her arm. She felt the warmth of his fingers as he touched her skin. Shock waves ran through her as she registered the first and only physical contact she’d had with Sam since that dance years ago. She realized just as quickly that he had pulled his hand away. Looking up at him, she saw that he was frowning. He’d shoved his hand deep into his pocket.

  “You can always change your mind, Sam. I won’t tell,” she whispered back, grasping for false courage and raising one brow as he motioned her toward the door.

  “Lady, when I start something I finish it, whether it’s a job, a conversation or a dance.”

  His last words were low and husky, a whisper meant for Rachel’s ears only. Her breath caught in her throat, but before she knew it, she had been whisked past the men standing closest to the door. She found herself alone in a pickup truck with Sam Grayson, and she realized she’d never really been alone with him in her life. There were no barriers to latch on to this time.

  Chapter Two

  Sam studied Rachel from the corner of his eye as they rode in silence toward the park two miles outside of town. No one would be there in this afternoon heat. They could talk in private. He could be as frank as he needed to be.

  That was good, that privacy, because Rachel was just as bold, just as sassy as she’d always been. She was also just as lovely as ever. More so. As a teenager she’d been thin, almost too thin. Now she was all soft curves, all rose-kissed satin skin. Her dark, shining hair fell over her shoulders and rested on the slopes of her breasts. Those long legs of hers would make most men slide off the road if they stared at them the way he was staring right now. But, of course, he wasn’t affected, Sam knew, giving the wheel a sharp jerk—because this was Rachel Allyn, and his friendship with her had died on the vine years ago.

  That didn’t matter. He and Rachel didn’t have to be tight for what he had in mind. She just had to care for his kids. That was the only important issue here, and he knew that he wouldn’t have a problem with that. Rachel was the original earth mother where children were concerned. It was a fact that he’d fought to deny endless times in the past week, but one that kept sliding into his thoughts each time he’d hugged Annie and felt the desperation in her thin little arms. She needed someone who understood little girls—someone who loved kids and accepted them for what they were.

  And much as he hated to admit it, Sam couldn’t deny the genuine longing in Rachel’s eyes when she’d looked at his children’s picture. He remembered years ago, watching her running with her little sisters and brothers, hugging them up and swinging them around till they all lay down on the ground, dizzy and exhausted and giggling. She’d kissed away their tears, held them close and tight when they’d needed it. She’d helped them with their homework, sang them songs, she’d shared her smiles with them. It was only he who had always invited her cynicism and displeasure. She had usually made an excuse to leave whenever he’d been around, and he could only imagine what she must be feeling now that he’d forced her hand.

  Glancing to the side again, he saw that Rachel had pressed herself up against the door. Sam didn’t know what it was about himself that had always made Rachel skittish, but he was sorry that he had made that crack about dancing now.

  “If you’re worried that I’m going to throw you out of a moving truck, you can calm down right now, Rachel. It’s taking all my concentration just to navigate this bumpy road. Besides, I never had much use for men who manhandled women.”

  Rachel had the grace to look embarrassed. “I wasn’t worried that you were going to kill me by shoving me out the door, Sam. Although if you wanted to dance me over a cliff, I might understand. I—I’m sorry about your wedding. I didn’t mean to embarrass you and—well, it was a long time ago. But I am sorry.”

  Sam pulled up at the park entrance and stopped the truck. He eased his long legs out, then came around to help Rachel down. She was already closing the door. He shrugged. “You’re right. It was a long time ago, Rachel. And right now I’m just hoping we can put the past in the past and concentrate on something else. Something more important.”

  Rachel hugged her elbows close. “Like what, Sam? What is it that’s so important you couldn’t ask me back at the yard?”

  Stepping closer, Sam locked his gaze onto hers. Her eyes were gray and waif big, nervous, but he wouldn’t let her look away. “My kids are what’s important. At least to me, Rachel. Only them. They’re all that matters to me, and they’re lost and unsure since their mother left. I’m willing to do anything I can, whatever is necessary to see that they’re happy. That’s what this is about, Rachel.”

  Rachel frowned. “I understand your concern for your children, but—” She held out her hands, clearly confused.

  Sam tucked his thumbs in the back of his belt. He spread his feet wide, prepared for battle. “I believe that you’re a person who might be able to help me. That is, if you’re willing.”

  When Rachel opened her mouth, Sam held up one hand to stop whatever objection she might make. “Hear me out, Rachel. My children—the twins are too young to remember their mother, but Annie...one minute she was a happy little girl, the next minute her mother had vanished into thin air. Donna left a note, but it wasn’t the kind of thing that would help a little girl understand how her mother could leave her. What could help? She’s scared and way too sad now and getting worse. She’s finally realized that her mother isn’t coming back, and she watches me, petrified, as if she’s afraid that I’ll disappear, too. No matter how much I assure her that I’ll never leave her, I know it’s not enough. She needs more—a real home, good friends, a father and a woman who can reassure her and be a role model.”

  ~ ~ ~

  Rachel looked up at Sam. His eyes were like blue fire, gazing into her soul, and she was suddenly afraid of what was coming. It wouldn’t be something she would like, she was sure of that.

  She wanted to leave and actually did take a step back, but then Sam reached out. He touched her hand with his own, and the unexpected contact stopped her retreat completely.

  “I realize it’s asking a lot, Rachel, knowing how you feel about me, but I want you to think about something. I’d like you to consider coming to work for me. Come take care of my children. They need someone like you. Desperately. You’re a natural with kids. You would be good for them. So, I’m humbling myself, Rachel. I’m asking you now to put away the past and consider helping me raise my children. I’m asking if you would think about it.”

  Rachel couldn’t break away from Sam’s blue gaze. He had loved a woman who’d left him, and all he had left in life now were his children. He would do anything for them. He would obviously even apply to a woman he didn’t really care for.

  “I already have a job, Sam.”

  “Not like this one.”

  She breathed in deeply, filling her lungs. Oh, he was right. So very right. This job would mean being around Sam all the time, living in his shadow much more than working at the lumberyard would. There was no way she could even consider it, not when just looking at the man made her dizzy.

  “This job you’re talking about—” she began.

  “Would mean commitment, a great deal of commitment, Rachel. I’d want them to be able to think of you as someone they could count on. But I’d also offer what I could. Absolute financial security, including helping out with your brothers and sisters if and when they need it. That’s a lot more than the job at the lumberyard offers.”

  He was right. It was. It was also a hell of a lot more dangerous than the job at the lumberyard.

  “You’ve come all this way to ask for my help?” Rachel took a deep breath and blew it out. “I think—this is crazy, Sam.”

  There was only a slight hesitation. “That’s righ
t. It’s crazy, but I’m still making the offer.”

  She looked up at him then—dared to stare straight into those fearsome blue eyes of his. “Forgive me for thinking that this seems a little irresponsible of you, Sam, but you’re basing your assumptions on a girl you knew ten years ago. How do you know I’d be good for your children? How do you know I haven’t changed?”

  There, she had him. This would make him think, make him back down so that she had room to think herself. With a little time and courage, she could catch her breath and tell him what she should already have said: she couldn’t possibly even consider his offer. She could forget that little angel with the blue glasses and the break in Sam’s voice when he’d told her about Annie waiting for him to vanish in the night. She could forget that her own childhood had been scary at times.

  But Sam wasn’t speaking. Instead he was pulling a slip of paper from his pocket. A well-worn paper filled with scribbles.

  “I’ll confess that I fought against turning to you, Rachel. You and I don’t exactly have a shining history. So I made some calls, half hoping I’d find someone else. I told people I was a businessman passing through town and that I needed the best child care available for my children. Not a single person hesitated to give me your name. You topped the list every time. No one else even came close. So, are you going to tell me you’ve developed a sudden aversion to children, Rachel?”

  “I’m telling you that I have a life of my own, Sam. A job of my own.”

  “I’ve talked to Hal. He thinks this might be good for you.”

  Rachel crossed her arms and took a deep breath. “The man thinks you’re only a hair away from sprouting wings, Sam. You’re his only living relative other than Kate. If you said it was a good idea to torch Grayson Lumber, Hal would be lighting the match right now. What did you expect him to say?”

  Sam smiled, the corners of his mouth drifting up, and Rachel cursed her heart that started tripping away at double time.

  “I expected him to tell me that I was springing this on you too suddenly.”