by Jane Porter
For a moment the only sound was the crackle and pop of the fire.
“How about you?” Troy asked, breaking the silence. “You okay, too? Because you look beat. I haven’t seen you this rough in a long time.”
Cormac rubbed at his eyes. “I am tired. It’s been hectic trying to get the company here, and Daisy here, and get the house done and the new office ready. It’s a lot.”
“You bit off a lot when you agreed to raise Daisy on your own.”
“It was hard in the beginning but we’ve bonded now. Can’t imagine life without her.”
“What about your ex-girlfriend…Daisy’s godmother? Is she in the picture at all? Does she ever take Daisy so you can have a break?”
“Funny that you mention her.” Cormac took a quick swig of beer. “She’s actually here in Marietta right now. She’s been here all week.”
Troy was surprised. “You guys back together?”
“No. She’s here to get the publishing group settled and spend some time with Daisy. I think they’re going to do a weekly date while she’s here, but no, we’re not together. She’s seeing someone and I’m…I’m too busy to even think about dating.”
Troy gave him a thoughtful look. “You’ve never been serious about anyone since you guys split up.”
Cormac wanted to deny it but Troy was right. Cormac hadn’t seen anyone seriously in almost four years. He shrugged, trying to keep it casual. “You know me. I’m all about the work.”
*
Daisy was quiet on the drive back to the Graff Hotel after dinner with Cormac’s brothers and their families at Trey’s house. Daisy had gotten quite a bit of attention at dinner, but she was worn out now.
Reaching Front Street, he parked his white four-wheel drive SUV in the lot across from the hotel, and opened the door to the back seat. “Hey, kiddo,” he said. “Tired?”
She nodded, lids heavy.
“We’ll be in bed in no time,” he said, lifting her from the car booster seat. Daisy’s head went straight to his shoulder, her arms circling his neck, holding him tightly.
She was wearing a coat but he held her close as an icy gust of wind blew through the parking lot. Marietta and its sister city Livingston, just 10 miles north, were famous for the westerly wind whipping through the valley, punishing the rural towns. The wind would be even colder and stronger in the thick of winter thanks to the air streaming from Yellowstone. Daisy, raised the past two years in the Mediterranean climate of San Clemente, California was not used to the frigid temperatures here.
Walking across the parking lot, he wrapped his arm more snugly around her, doing his best to block the next blast of wind. She shivered against his chest, the top of her head tucked against his neck.
She’d been a little trooper today. It had been a long day for her, and she’d handled all the driving and flying and playing so well. Two years ago she couldn’t have been dropped off at Trey and McKenna’s. Two years ago she was clingy and tearful and scared…
He hated remembering those early days when she was suddenly his, and he hadn’t known how to comfort her, not when she cried for her mother night after night. It had gutted him telling Daisy over and over that her parents were in heaven now. It had been the worst thing he’d ever had to do, and he’d done it for months…
It had been a relief when she’d stopped asking so frequently, and he’d felt guilty for being relieved that she’d stopped talking about them, and so he started bringing them up, introducing them in prayers at bedtime, and during grace at dinner. He found photos of them and put them in frames by her bed. Even made ornaments with their faces for their Christmas tree last year.
And just when he thought they’d made it through the worst, Daisy began asking about the godmother who sent her birthday and Christmas gifts. The godmother named Whitney…
It was never going to be easy being Daisy’s new father, was it?
He wasn’t the kind of man who was natural father material, either, and he was learning everything the hard way. It was the kind of learning where you understood the lesson only after it was too late.
Despite an evening with three of his brothers—or maybe because of it—Cormac felt unusually low as he crossed the street from the parking lot to the hotel.
His brothers all seemed so happy with their wives and lives. Cormac had told himself that he would never be able to do that…get married and settle down. But now he envied them. They didn’t just marry a lover. They each married their best friend.
Cormac didn’t really have a best friend. He was a loner. He worked, and then he went home to Daisy, and he wasn’t complaining. He loved Daisy. But maybe his world would feel a little more complete…a little more balanced—
No. Knock it off, he told himself. You’re just tired. You need sleep. Tomorrow you’ll see the world differently.
And he did need sleep. Daisy did, too. He was hoping she wouldn’t have nightmares tonight because they could both use some serious Z’s.
He would have been happier in his house but he couldn’t really complain about staying at the Graff, not when he’d been given the owner’s suite.
The doorman held the door open for Cormac. “She’s sound asleep, isn’t she?” the doorman said.
Cormac glanced down at her face, and yes her eyes were closed, her breathing even. She was out. “It’s been a long day,” he said.
“You have a good night.”
“You, too,” Cormac replied, stepping through the hotel’s big glass doors.
The Graff’s history was Marietta’s history. The town had been founded as a mining community but when the copper vein proved to be much smaller than expected and the big miners moved on, either returning to Butte, or heading on West, only a few smaller businesses were left.
Gradually, ranching and farming replaced the mining and Marietta survived, but it had never been a particularly prosperous town. The wealthiest in the area were the big ranching families like the Carrigans and the Sheenans.
Crossing the hotel lobby, Cormac eyed the Christmas tree glowing with white lights. The huge fir—had to be at least twenty feet tall—was covered with shimmering glass ornaments and wide velvet ribbon. With the hotel lights slightly dimmed for the evening, the tree took center stage. It smelled even better than it looked, and he breathed in the fresh scent, amazed that one tree could make an entire lobby smell so fresh.
More velvet-wrapped greenery swagged over the tall windows and wide doorways. Wreaths now hung in the center of each window. He wasn’t at all ready for Christmas, but he knew Daisy would be enchanted in the morning by the tree and decorations. She loved Christmas. She hadn’t been able to stop talking about how she got to fly to Montana with the real Santa Claus.
Trey and Troy had been amused at dinner by Daisy’s insistence that the old man in flannel and khakis had been the real Santa, too. When six-year-old TJ asked her how did she knew he was the real Santa, she gave her cousin a quelling look. “I just knew,” she said icily.
“A woman’s intuition,” Troy said drily, earning him an elbow from Taylor.
“Is never wrong,” McKenna chimed in sweetly, clearing the dessert plates from their huckleberry and blackberry crisp.
They’d all laughed, but Daisy was indignant. He was the real Santa. He was!
Now, riding up in the elevator, Cormac kissed the top of her head. He loved her fierceness, as well as her imagination. All he wanted to do was protect her and give her the secure future she deserved. But it was definitely proving even harder than he’d imagined.
At his door he once again gently shifted Daisy in his arms, this time so that he could dig in his back pocket to retrieve his wallet where he’d stashed his hotel room key. He was still trying to fish the wallet out when the elevator doors opened and a slender woman with long medium brown hair stepped into the hall.
Whitney.
He felt a rush of pleasure and was about to say her name when she flipped her hair back and he suddenly realized it wasn’t Whitney. Just
a young woman with long hair and a similar build.
She smiled at Cormac as she passed, her expression friendly, even openly admiring, and while she was pretty, actually very pretty, he didn’t feel any attraction.
If anything, he was disappointed, and that stab of disappointment was like acid in his gut.
There was no way they could mix the personal with the business now. They’d been through too much to ever go there again. He might still be attracted to Whitney, but she was off limits. She had a boyfriend. Her home was in Denver. They had both clearly moved on.
*
Whitney was just returning to the Graff from dinner at the Chinese restaurant on Front Street when she spotted Cormac entering the hotel with Daisy in his arms.
Whitney slowed her steps, not wanting to overtake them, but also curious. It was the first time she’d seen Daisy in two years and she was amazed at how much the little girl had grown. She was also struck by Cormac’s ease with Daisy. She looked like his daughter. He looked like a dad, doting and protective.
It was the way it should be, and she was happy for Daisy, glad that Cormac was proving to be a good father. Daisy deserved all the love in the world, and it pleased Whitney to no end to hear that Cormac was determined to keep April’s parents in Daisy’s life. April’s parents were wonderful people. They’d been great parents to April and would probably be absolutely doting grandparents.
Whitney did feel guilty, though, that she hadn’t stayed in better touch with Joe and LuAnne. She’d been close to them growing up, spending nearly as much time at their house as she had at her own. Right after the accident she’d reached out to them, but once the will was revealed, and she discovered she’d been cut out of Daisy’s life, Whitney had pulled away. She didn’t do it to punish them, but she’d been so hurt, as well as confused.
April had asked Whitney to be a guardian. They’d discussed it more than once. So what happened?
How did Cormac end up as sole guardian?
Whitney waited outside another minute, wanting to be absolutely sure Cormac would have reached his room, before she entered the Graff. It was hard bumping into him all the time. It was confusing. Her emotions were far too volatile lately.
While here in Marietta she needed to keep her focus. She was here for work, and she was here to spend time with Daisy. But she wasn’t here to spend time with Cormac.
Daisy’s happiness was important to her, though, and Whitney had to admit that so far Cormac seemed to be doing a good job of caring for her. From all appearances he was a devoted father.
As she climbed the steps of the hotel, the doorman swung the door open for her and greeted her by name. Whitney thanked him and said good night, impressed again by the level of service at the Graff. It might be a small town, but the hotel was definitely a luxury property and a good hotel to feature in Montana Living. The Sheenan family would be interesting to feature but Cormac would never agree. He avoided publicity, preferring to keep the focus on numbers and profitability instead of cultivating himself, or his family, as a personality.
She had to admit that she liked that about him. It was refreshing in today’s social media age to find someone who wasn’t interested in being in the limelight.
Inside the hotel, her gaze swept the handsome lobby. No sign of Cormac. Good. Better to avoid him. Seeing him, talking to him, stirred up memories and emotions that made it harder to keep her focus.
She’d loved him so much.
She’d wanted to marry him and have his kids. When they were dating, she was sure they’d marry, and not because they had to marry but because they were just so good together. It’d felt natural. Inevitable.
Boy, was she wrong.
Upstairs, in her room, she stripped off her clothes, changed into pajamas before heading for the bathroom where she tied back her long hair to wash her face and brush her teeth.
She’d get through this trip to Marietta. She’d been here for five days now. She could survive the rest. She’d make it through the holidays without getting her heart banged up. The goal was to stay focused and keep her priorities straight, and she could if she had tunnel vision.
Work.
Daisy.
And turning Cormac into her friend.
It was possible. It could be done.
*
Cormac woke early. It wasn’t even six yet but once his eyes opened, he was wide awake, not the least bit drowsy.
Rolling out of bed, he checked on Daisy in her narrow rollaway bed. She was still out, curled on her side, tightly holding her pink fuzzy blanket close to her chest.
He smiled down at her, glad she’d slept all night without any of her nightmares. She’d needed the sleep, and so had he.
In the suite’s living room he flicked on lights, headed to the little kitchen tucked against the wall and made coffee. While the coffee brewed he did fifty pushups, one hundred crunches, followed by another fifty pushups. It was his usual morning routine and he needed routine right now with all the changes happening.
Whitney had said she wanted a regular ‘date’ with Daisy. He wanted Daisy to have that, too, but nothing had been set up yet. Perhaps he needed to plan something for the three of them this weekend, something they could all do together to help break the ice, and then in the future, Whitney and Daisy would be comfortable just doing things together, just the two of them.
Chapter Eight
‡
Whitney woke up Saturday morning to a text from Cormac inviting her to join him and Daisy for a matinee movie that afternoon at three thirty. The movie was Hotel Transylvania 2 and the theater was just across the train tracks on the other side of Front Street. Cormac said after the movie they’d probably grab an early bite to eat, either at the pizza place or the Chinese restaurant by the theater.
He ended the text saying he wouldn’t mention it to Daisy until Whitney knew if she could come.
Whitney read the text a second time and then rolled over onto her back and stared up at the ceiling.
She wanted to go. She didn’t want to go. She couldn’t wait to spend time with Daisy. And yet she was afraid she’d get attached to the little girl just to have it all fall apart.
But a movie was a relatively simple activity. A movie was the chief entertainment. Whitney would just be there, another body in the dark theater. And then if they did go out for dinner afterwards, they’d all have something to talk about. It was kind of like a book club for kids…but with a movie instead of a book. So, okay, it wasn’t anything like a book club.
Whitney jumped up from her bed, suddenly antsy and nervous. Why was she nervous? Was she nervous about seeing Daisy or nervous because it was Daisy and Cormac?
She paced her room, marching back and forth a couple times before texting him back. I have an appointment with Josie this morning but can make a 3:30 show. Should I just meet you there?
And then freaking out for no good reason, she dug into her hotel dresser for jeans and a sweater and headed to Java Café to get a coffee and wait for Josie, who was to meet her in half an hour.
*
She was here.
Cormac felt something turn over in his chest as Whitney pushed open the doors of the movie theater. “I’m here,” she called out, hurrying across the floor to join them in the popcorn line. “Sorry to be late. Josie and I were picking out the bathroom fixtures in Bozeman and hit some traffic.”
Her eyes were glowing and her cheeks were red from the cold and so was the tip of her nose. She smiled as she talked, peeling off her gloves and then her scarf.
She was so lovely and alive and he glanced down at Daisy who was staring at Whitney with wide blue eyes.
He felt a little of the same awe. He’d been attracted to Whitney from the first moment he spotted her in that Denver bar all those years ago. He had no idea she worked for him. They never discussed work that first evening. They didn’t even discuss Montana. He didn’t even know what they talked about, only that the conversation had been easy and engaging and he kne
w when the evening ended, he was going to see her again.
That he had to see her again.
And seeing her now, entering the theater glowing with beauty and intelligence and life, he knew he had to see her again.
And again.
“Daisy, remember how you ask about your godmother Whitney? Well, this is Whitney. And she’s come to Marietta to work and see you and do special things with you each weekend.”
The little girl’s eyes were still saucer wide. She looked from Whitney to him and back.
Whitney didn’t want to crowd the little girl and crouched on the burgundy and gold theater carpet. “Hi,” she said. “Remember me?”
Daisy took a long moment to answer. “Not really.”
“That’s okay. Because I remember you. And it’s so good to see you.”
Daisy bit her lip. “Dad says you knew me when I was a baby.”
“I did. I was there with your mom when you were born. Your dad—your other dad,” she corrected quickly, “he was overseas and so I got to hold you after your mom held you. You were this big,” she said, her hands making a space the size of a small loaf of bread. “Itty bitty but so beautiful.”
“And you loved me?” Daisy asked hopefully.
“I loved you. And so did your mommy. With all her heart.”
“My mommy is in heaven,” Daisy said matter of factly.
“Yes, she is. With your daddy, Daryl.” Whitney’s eyes suddenly burned and her throat threatened to close. “I was very good friends with them. They loved you so much and were so proud of you. They were always showing pictures and sending little videos of you doing something funny.”
Daisy’s face scrunched up. “Are you going to cry?”
“No.” Whitney swallowed hard, and smiled. “But I do miss your mom. She was my best friend. We became best friends when we were five years old.”
Daisy held up her fingers. “I’m four.”
“You just had a birthday in September.”
“And you sent me Periwinkle’s costume.”
