Just as well. Melissa was in shock. Her partner? He was taking Greg’s place? Everything within her rebelled at the thought. No, no, no. Mandy belonged to her and Greg. There would never be anyone to replace him.
She drew a deep breath and calmed down. Russ hadn’t meant those words as they’d sounded. He was here as a—a helper. That’s what she’d intended, and he was certainly living up to the bargain.
He reentered the kitchen. “What do you want to drink with your meal?” he asked as he opened the refrigerator.
“I can get it later. I—”
“What do you want to drink?” he asked, this time in an irritated tone.
She stared at him, confused. “Why are you upset?”
“Because I’m getting tired of you refusing to let me do anything. I don’t have to be waited on hand and foot. I can help out occasionally.”
“You’ve helped me all day long, Russ. There’s no need to wait on me.”
“You’re making this a lot more difficult than it has to be. What do you want to drink?”
“A diet soda will be fine,” she said, ducking her head to avoid his stare.
After getting drinks out of the refrigerator, he opened a cupboard and took down two glasses and filled them with ice, then poured the sodas in them. He set one near her and the other across the table.
Mandy bounced in her high chair and pounded on the tray.
“Hey, little girl, did I forget to say hello?” he asked, leaning down to the child, his voice warm and sweet. “Are you getting enough to eat? I’ll share my barbecue, if you want.”
“I think barbecue is a little advanced for her,” Melissa advised him, not knowing if he was teasing or not. He shot her a superior look that told her he was.
“Right. So maybe I should cook her a steak?”
“Just sit down and eat, Russ.” She was too tired to think of a snappy comeback tonight.
“I’ll eat when you eat. We’re partners today, Melissa.”
She gave up. If he wanted to deny himself the pleasure of dinner until she ate, so be it. Though considering the quantity he’d bought, it wouldn’t hurt him to get a head start.
When Mandy had almost finished her vegetables, he asked, “Doesn’t she get a bottle? Want me to fix it?”
“I put it in the microwave.”
“I’ll get it.” He jumped up from the table and then grimaced.
“Your tailbone still hurts? Sit down. I’ll get the bottle. You probably should be sitting in a soft chair. If you want to eat in the den, I can—”
“I’m fine,” he assured her. “It’s not as if I broke something. I’ll get the bottle.” He retrieved the bottle, screwing on the lid and nipple.
“Ba-ba-ba-ba,” Mandy gurgled, reaching for the bottle as he came back to the table.
“Ah. A popular item, huh, Mandy? Want Uncle Russ to give it to you? Come on, baby, and I’ll feed you.” He set the bottle on the table and reached for her daughter.
“Wait—” Melissa began in protest.
“Melissa, quit trying to do everything yourself. Let me help,” he insisted, impatience in his voice. Before she could say anything else, he lifted Mandy from her high chair and crossed to his chair, reaching for her bottle as he sat down. Mandy, in her excitement, grabbed his face and promptly smeared carrots and peas all over his cheek.
“Eeeew!” he protested.
Melissa offered no sympathy. “I was going to say you should wait until I’d cleaned her hands and face, but you had to have your way. Serves you right.”
CHAPTER EIGHT
HOLDING ON TO MANDY’S hands so she couldn’t do further damage, he looked at Melissa. “I thought you were being difficult about letting me help. Seems like you turn down every offer I make.”
“No, I don’t. But it takes a little getting used to, having someone around.” She remained seated, her face calm.
“I wouldn’t turn down a little help now,” he ventured. “If you want to clean Mandy or bring me a paper towel, I’d appreciate it.”
For a minute, he thought she was going to refuse to move. But he should’ve known better. Melissa was a nurturer. With a nod, she grabbed a clean dishcloth and wet it at the sink. Then she came around the table and wiped first one little hand and then the other.
Mandy smiled, undisturbed by her mother’s attention. After wiping her daughter’s face, Melissa turned her attention to Russ.
“Do you want me to clean you, too?”
“Yeah, if there’s a clean spot left on the towel.”
Her fingers settled on his chin, lifting his face toward the light. He liked her touch, soft, warm. When she finished wiping off the vegetables Mandy had deposited on his cheek, he almost leaned forward to kiss her. As a thank-you, of course, nothing more.
Her closeness, her personal attention made another kiss seem like a natural. But he’d already made that mistake once today. If he kissed her again, he’d find himself in a hotel, for sure.
“Uh, thanks,” he muttered as she moved back. He noticed her cheeks were flushed, which told him she was as disturbed by their closeness as he was.
“Do you want me to feed Mandy her bottle?” she offered again.
“No. I’ll do it. Why don’t you fix our plates before the food gets cold.”
Without saying anything, she began to do as he asked. When she’d put a plate with several sandwiches in front of him, she said, “Mandy is perfectly capable of holding her own bottle if you can eat with one hand.”
“Really?” He stared at the baby. Her hands were on either side of the bottle, but he hadn’t realized she could manage without his help. Turning the bottle loose, he watched it sag momentarily before the baby lifted it herself. “Well, I’ll be. I didn’t know you were that talented, Mandy, my girl.”
“She can already do a lot of things for herself,” Melissa said with a sad air.
“That doesn’t make you happy?”
“Oh, of course it does, but—but she’s changing and growing so quickly. She’ll be my only baby and I want to hold on to the sweetness of this first year.”
He’d been about to take a bite out of one of the sandwiches, but he put it back on the plate. “What do you mean, she’ll be your only baby. Can’t you have more children?”
She seemed startled by his question. “I suppose—I mean, physically, I could, but—well, one needs a husband to have more children.”
His gaze roamed her trim figure, her beautiful face. “I shouldn’t think you’d have any trouble finding a husband.”
“I’m not looking!” she snapped.
“But you should.”
“Oh, that’s rich. A confirmed bachelor is urging me to marry?”
He opened his mouth to respond, then shut it. She had a point. Then he thought of an important reason she should consider another marriage. “But you have Mandy. She needs a dad.”
He could tell he’d hit a nerve. Melissa stiffened and looked away. “She’ll be all right. You’d better eat your sandwiches before they grow cold.”
“You haven’t eaten yours, either.”
“No, I’ve been too busy arguing with you.” She immediately took a bite and industriously chewed as if her life depended on it. Russ did the same, but he kept thinking about their conversation. Why wouldn’t Melissa consider marriage?
He didn’t want Mandy missing out on a two-parent family. After watching Leave It to Beaver and other sitcoms, maybe he had an unrealistic view of families, but he knew how lonely he’d sometimes felt. How different he’d been from the kids at school who had fathers and mothers.
Looking at the sweet face resting on his chest, he felt a surge of protectiveness that was new to him. He’d only been in Casper twenty-four hours, but he could already tell he was forming an attachme
nt to the baby.
And her mother.
Maybe it was because they had brought back thoughts of his own mother. He didn’t know. His stay had definitely given him a different perspective on his own childhood. But he wanted the best for Melissa Bright. Maybe he should look up some old friends, try to find a man for her. Someone to take her out, make her feel special, spend some time with Mandy. Someone who wanted to make a family.
He didn’t know anyone like that.
He’d made a point of making friends with confirmed bachelors like himself. Besides, it would take a special man to weave his way into Melissa’s life.
“Da-da-da-da,” Mandy cooed at him.
“No!” Melissa almost shouted, coming up out of her chair.
“What?” Russ demanded, shocked out of his thoughts. He stared at the baby, afraid he’d done something wrong.
The loud voices had Mandy’s smile disappearing and an alarmed expression crossed her face.
“She—she doesn’t know what she’s saying,” Melissa hurriedly mumbled, subsiding back into her chair.
Russ stared at the baby and then the mother. “I think she’s trying to tell me she’s finished her bottle.” He set the bottle on the table and eased Mandy onto his shoulder. “I burp her, right?”
“Yes.” She had her gaze on her sandwich, as if she was embarrassed.
He knew what the problem was, of course, but he wasn’t going to admit it. He didn’t want to get into an argument with Melissa because Mandy had babbled something that sounded very much like daddy. After all, he’d been shocked that morning when she’d done so. But she wasn’t calling him daddy.
Because she didn’t know anything about a daddy...yet.
When she let out her normal loud burp, Russ eased her back to his lap. And discovered Melissa standing beside him. “I’ll put her back in her high chair while we finish eating.”
“Won’t she fuss?”
“No, I’ll give her a teething biscuit.” She whisked the baby over to the high chair.
“When will her other teeth come in? I mean, I’ve seen four, but she’s got a way to go, doesn’t she?”
“Yes. She’s cutting some, now. But she won’t have a full mouth of teeth for another year, I guess.” She found the teething biscuit and removed the cellophane from it. Then she put it on the tray of Mandy’s chair and let her pick it up by herself. The baby immediately grabbed it and tried to stuff the whole cookie in her mouth.
“Wow. It’s a good thing her mouth is small,” Russ said before he took another bite.
“Yes,” Melissa agreed.
Little was said after that, each of the adults concentrating on eating their meal and Mandy chewing away on her teething biscuit.
Russ helped clear the table when they’d finished, but Melissa still didn’t say a word.
When that task was completed, he looked at Melissa. “What else do you have to do?”
“I’m going to fold some clothes. You can watch television or read. You might want to look at the newspaper. It’s in the living room.”
“Or I might want to fold clothes.”
“Not necessary.” Her tones were clipped.
He took Mandy out of the high chair after Melissa had cleaned her up. He’d at least learned that lesson. Then he followed Melissa to the small laundry behind the kitchen. She gathered a load of dry clothes and took them to the sofa in the living room.
“What does Mandy do while you’re working?”
“I put her in her playpen with toys. That keeps her happy for a while.” After answering him, Melissa left the room again.
He didn’t know where she was going, so he decided to put Mandy in her playpen. Once he’d set her down on the soft surface, she lunged for a bright red-and-yellow ball, carrying it immediately to her mouth. Since the ball was as big as her little face, he didn’t have to worry about her swallowing it.
Melissa came back in and sat on the sofa, reaching for the nearest piece of baby clothing.
Russ moved to the other end of the sofa, shoving some of the clothing aside so he could sit. Then he, too, picked up a baby T-shirt.
“What are you doing?” Melissa asked.
“Helping you.”
“I don’t need your help,” she insisted.
“I thought that was why I was here? You wanted me to play daddy for the weekend.” He waited, curious, for her response.
“Not—not daddy. I just wanted to sleep late one morning. I wanted—I didn’t mean you had to do everything.” Again her cheeks were flushed.
He settled back against the sofa cushion, staring at her. “You know, Melissa, I’m beginning to think you’re one of those people I detest.”
* * *
MELISSA WAS SURPRISED at how much his words hurt. She jerked her head up and stared at him, fighting not to reveal her pain. “What kind of people?”
“The kind who complain about their problems but refuse to do anything about them. They luxuriate in them, actually. I believe they’re called martyrs.”
She blinked rapidly to hold back the tears that suddenly filled her eyes. Then, biting her bottom lip, she reached over to gather all the clothes to be folded. Without a word, she walked from the room, her arms filled with the laundry. After putting them in the rocker in Mandy’s room, she returned and scooped the baby out of the playpen.
“What are you doing?” Russ asked.
“I’m taking Mandy to her room.”
“Why?”
“Because I don’t want her to disturb you.” She tried to get out of the room before he could ask any more questions. She didn’t want to talk to the annoying man. But he stood and came after her.
“She’s not bothering me.”
She said nothing. When she reached Mandy’s room, she crossed over to the crib and put Mandy inside. Then she collected several toys from a shelf, a stuffed tiger and a smaller ball with stars on it, and put them in the bed with her child.
As she turned to the rocker to start folding the clothes, Russ, standing in the door, said, “I guess I hurt your feelings.”
“Don’t be ridiculous. The television is in the living room. Or if you want to go out, feel free to take my car. The keys are—I don’t know where the keys are. You had them last.” She didn’t want to talk about how badly he’d hurt her.
She’d worked hard to provide a happy environment for her baby after Greg’s death. Too often as a child she’d listened to her mother whine about the unfairness of life, and she’d vowed not to be so negative in her own life. Now Russ was accusing her of just that.
“I know where the keys are, but I’m not going anywhere.”
“Suit yourself,” she said, turning her back on him.
She almost jumped out of her skin when his warm hands closed on her shoulders.
“What are you doing?” she demanded, yanking herself out of his grasp.
“I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings.”
But he had. She hated martyrs. She’d had no intention of becoming one. But her innate honesty made her question whether he was right.
And it scared her.
The last thing she wanted was to fail Mandy and Greg. To be less than the best parent she could be. But a martyr wouldn’t be the best parent. Her own mother had played that role too often for Melissa not to abhor it.
She couldn’t do that to Mandy. Dear God, please.
“It doesn’t matter.”
“Yes, it does,” Russ contradicted her. “You’ve been a great hostess. I want to fulfill my obligation. But I’m getting frustrated. Every time I offer to help, you’d think I was going to steal the crown jewels.”
“You’re right, of course,” she assured him, her voice breathless. She was in pain. To prove to this man, and herself, that she hadn�
�t become like her mother, she was going to have to accept every offer he made, and smile while doing so.
“It was silly of me to resist. I—I didn’t want to work you too hard.” She attempted a chuckle, as if their situation was funny. “I was afraid you’d run out on me.”
“If I promise to stay, can I help fold the laundry?”
She took one quick glance at the sincerity in his blue eyes and looked away. “Of course. You probably fold laundry all the time in Chicago. I—I just hadn’t pictured a swinging bachelor doing chores like that.”
He moved to the rocker and, after watching her fold a sleeper, grabbed one just like it and imitated her. Then he laid it on top of the dresser where she’d put the one she folded.
“Nicely done, thank you,” she said, attempting to be scrupulously polite.
“Are you going to thank me for each thing I fold?” he asked, a grin on his face.
She ground her teeth, holding on to her temper by a thread. Didn’t he realize she was trying to— This was ridiculous, she suddenly realized.
“I’ll probably write you a thank-you note,” she said, relaxing a little, “since I’m so surprised.”
“Only one? I’d expect one for each item,” he informed her, rewarding her attempt at a joke with an even warmer smile.
She smiled back but speeded up her folding. The sooner they finished the task, the happier she’d be. His closeness brought too many memories, made her ask herself too many questions.
When it sounded as if Mandy had called him daddy, every part of her being had protested. But did she want Mandy to be without a daddy all her life because Greg had died? To be an only child, without brothers or sisters?
Of course she didn’t. But for Mandy to have a daddy, she’d have to have a husband. Russ had already shown her she could respond to another man. But Russ wasn’t a good prospect for a husband. He was a confirmed bachelor, albeit a kind one, one who was gentle with Mandy.
As a lover, he would be...perfect, she admitted as a shiver ran through her body.
Enough! She couldn’t think of the man in those terms and get through the next two days without embarrassing herself. As it was, she was going to have to accept his help.
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