Are you seeing anybody? Socially, I mean. Dating. Are you dating anyone? Jace's fumbling words replayed in her memory.
And the tiny kernel of the hope that had died so spectacularly came back to life.
"I don't know," Amber said slowly. "I mean, he did ask me if I was dating anyone. But then he told me about this friend of his. Who was shy."
It was weird.
Jace wasn't usually someone to beat around the bush. When it came to Bo, he was quick to let her know what his son needed and how things should be done. If he was going to be out in the barn late, he called and told her. He didn't waste a lot of time hemming and hawing.
But... "He's a widower," she said softly.
"So, there you go," Mystery woman said. "Maybe he was uncomfortable just coming right out and asking you out."
Could she be right?
Amber's hope swelled, but she was a little afraid to trust it. What if she was wrong?
"There's only one way to find out," Mystery woman said. "Ask him outright."
Amber could never do that. She'd spent the money on her dress, hair, and makeup, hoping Jace would notice her. Asking him out on a date? She lived in his house. If she was wrong, there would be humiliation involved. Every day. It was too risky. Wasn’t it?
"I should go home," she said. "I'm pretty sure my makeup is ruined."
"Oh, I can fix that."
Maybe her heart wasn't broken after all, because it pulsed painfully as she let her mystery friend pull her into the well-appointed bathroom.
Under the bright bathroom lights, she winced at her image in the mirror, the one with mascara running down both cheeks. The puffiness beneath her eyes had diminished some, but the tip of her nose was still bright red.
She got her first good look at her new friend as the other woman rummaged in a medium-sized purse. She wore a black cocktail dress, and her blond hair was pulled back in a simple updo. She had compassionate eyes. "Here we go." She handed Amber a packet of makeup wipes. "Those babies will take anything off."
Amber hesitated before taking them. "I don't even know your name."
"I'm Delaney." The other woman had a warm smile, one that Amber found herself returning.
"I'm Amber. Nice to meet you."
Maybe Delaney was right.
Maybe she did still have a chance with Jace.
She leaned over the counter as she used the makeup wipe beneath her eyes. By the time she'd scrubbed away the smeared mascara, her foundation had come away too, leaving weird patches on her cheeks. She sighed and began scrubbing at her entire face.
The makeup hadn't really been her. The makeup artist from Austin had caked it on, while Amber usually chose a more natural look. She'd thought it made her look striking, but maybe all those looks in the ballroom were folks thinking she shouldn't be trying so hard.
"Our skin tones aren't a match, but I think I can fix your eye makeup."
Amber blinked at her bare face in the mirror. Without the mascara and the smoky way her eyes had been made up, she was just... Amber.
For better or for worse.
"I think I'll just go like this." Jace was used to seeing her first thing in the morning, messy hair bun and no makeup as she got Bo ready for the early bus. If he was interested in her, the makeup wouldn't matter. Right?
"I've taken up too much of your night," she continued. "You're missing the party."
For the first time, Delaney grimaced. "Yeah." It was her turn to sigh. "I'm not exactly on the guest list." What did that mean? "And not being on the guest list is why I'm having man troubles."
Amber shook her head, confused.
But Delaney just gave her a gentle push toward the door. "Don't worry about me. You go get your guy."
Amber's stomach was jumping as if a whole flock of Christmas geese had taken up residence there. But she obediently made her way out of the darkened bedroom.
She was going to do this.
She was going to ask Jace if he'd meant he was the friend.
Chapter 4
"This is stupid," Amber whispered to herself as she rejoined the crowd in the ballroom.
The momentary confidence she'd felt as a result of Delaney's encouragement was fast dwindling.
If Jace wanted to ask her out, he'd just do it. Wouldn't he?
She shouldn't do this. She was just setting herself up for heartbreak. And probably risking her job. She would hate it if she got fired and never got to see Bo again.
Guys like Jace weren't interested in girls like her. Were they?
She let her gaze roam the ballroom. It bounced off a brown-haired guy standing near the tree, halfway across the room. His eyes met hers, but then he quickly glanced away.
There was Jace. Adjacent to her, standing close to the part of the room reserved for the dance floor.
He seemed to be scanning the room, too. When his gaze landed on her, a look of determination crossed his features.
What was that about?
He began making his way toward her, skirting other couples as he edged around the dance floor.
Her heart was pounding now, her pulse drumming in her ears.
She moved to meet him.
Except she didn't calculate that they'd meet right in front of the string quartet, which was playing beautiful Christmas music—currently Santa Claus is Coming to Town—but this close, it was impossibly loud.
"Are you okay?" She saw more than heard his words.
It was impossible not to blush under his intent gaze. She nodded. Gathered up her courage.
"Do you want—?"
"Listen, there's—"
She saw his lips move at the same time she'd started to ask if he'd go on a date with her.
He grimaced, tilted his head toward the band. Mouthed it's loud.
"Do you want to dance?" he asked.
Her heart went into double time even as she panicked. She didn't know how. She nodded before she'd thought better of it.
And just as they merged with the couples on the dance floor, just as Jace took her hand, the tune changed. To I'll Be Home for Christmas. A slow version.
Which meant a slow dance.
In the microsecond as he turned to face her, Jace looked extremely uncomfortable. His expression cleared, and he carefully took her in his arms. One hand at her waist, the other clasped between them.
With a respectable amount of distance between them.
It might not be as close as she'd like, but he was holding her.
"I've never done this before," she confessed softly.
"Never?” His eyebrows lifted. “No high school dances?"
She shook her head, feeling a blush rising. Her high school experience had been atypical—and she'd never been invited to a dance. Wouldn't have been able to go if she had.
His gaze softened as gazed down at her.
What if she bumped into someone? Or worse? "What if I step on your feet?"
"Can't be worse than a heifer stomping on me. Just follow my lead."
His smile was warm. Had she imagined the discomfort that had crossed his face moments ago?
Being in his arms like this felt right. Like she belonged.
She was a little afraid her heart was shining through her eyes. She focused on a point over his shoulder.
"It was a little too loud to talk over there," he said.
She nodded. Say something.
"Do you—?"
He spoke over her. "About before. I'm sorry if I said anything wrong. I hadn't thought about—should I have given you some time off to visit your family for the holidays?"
She missed a step, faltering in his arms. His hold broke slightly until he reclaimed her waist, holding her slightly closer this time.
"I don't see my family—that is, I don't really have family to see." She stumbled over her words, hating the fact that hot color was flaring into her face again.
She dared a glance at his face. He was watching her, concern etched on his features. He mumbled something that sou
nded like, "I really have been a selfish jerk."
What? He was one of the least selfish people she knew. If he wasn't working on the ranch, he was being a dad to Bo.
"If you told me when you first came to us, I don't remember," he said. "Where are you from? What's your family like?"
She didn't know what to do with his sudden interest. Was it the holidays making him think about it?
Or was he worried about her influence on Bo? Had he somehow figured her secret out, even though she'd kept it since she'd arrived in Sawyer Creek?
"I'm from a little town in Oklahoma," she said carefully. "I haven't been back there since I turned eighteen."
She didn't want to lie to him—wouldn't lie if he asked outright, but she really didn't want to talk about family.
"Do you want to…” She lost her nerve halfway through the question. “Can you tell me more about this friend you mentioned? The shy one?"
Heat flared even higher.
This time he missed a step, and since they were closer now, his boot nudged her shoe. "Sorry," he mumbled.
That was definitely discomfort she saw in his expression.
"Well, he's... a rancher. He's lived in Sawyer Creek for years."
That was good. Both of those could identify Jace himself. Maybe Delaney was right.
"I don't know if you'd call him handsome or not, but he's a good guy. Goes to church and all that."
Oh, she did find him handsome.
She bit her lower lip, trying desperately to contain the joyful smile that was bubbling up.
"And what about his family? Does he have kids?" she dared to ask.
Jace's brows pinched. "Uh, no. I think he has a niece."
A niece.
Not a son.
The joy and hope that had been blossoming within wilted. Oh, my goodness. How humiliating.
"You mean, you really do have a friend?"
This was his stupidest idea yet.
Having Amber in his arms was equal parts heaven and hell. She fit perfectly, like she was made for him. She'd scrubbed her face clean of the makeup she'd been wearing earlier. She looked like the girl next door. She smelled so good, and he fought the desire to pull her closer.
His senses were muddled. She'd asked him about Chuck, and he'd told her, but now there was no missing her sudden tension. You really do have a friend?
"Yeah," he said, aware that he was suddenly wading through a minefield with no map. "His name is Chuck."
She stepped out of his arms, a discordant move in the melody of their dance.
"Oh." Both of her hands came up to cover her cheeks. "This is—" Her eyes darted away. She looked anything but happy, even though moments before she'd been shining up at him.
Luckily they were close enough to the edge of the dance floor that they were out of the flow of traffic.
"This is really embarrassing," she said.
He didn't get it.
And then his phone rang from his breast pocket. He'd turned the volume up so he'd be able to hear it over the party noise. He still wasn't that comfortable leaving Bo with a babysitter.
He pulled it from his pocket, hoping that Amber would forgive him for interrupting their conversation.
"It's Mrs. Ritter," he said, flashing her a glimpse of the screen.
Her expression shifted to worry. He started toward the front entry even as he answered, putting the phone to his ear. "Cantrell."
He glanced over his shoulder. Amber was right behind him.
At first, he couldn't hear Mrs. Ritter over the noise of the crowd, but as the crowd thinned, her voice came through.
"...having some kind of reaction."
His body felt cleaved in two. "What do you mean reaction?"
The foyer was completely empty except for the dark-suited attendant who'd taken his coat earlier.
He turned wildly, and Amber was right there.
"He's got these red spots across his stomach. Some kind of rash—"
He spoke to Amber. "A rash on his stomach. Red spots."
Panic rose. Was Bo having an allergic reaction? Should he have Mrs. Ritter call 911?
Amber's hand on his forearm steadied him out of the boiling panic.
"How big are the spots? How long since he ate anything?" Amber whispered.
"I've got Amber here, too," he told Mrs. Ritter. "She wants to know how big are the spots and how long since he ate anything?"
He closed his eyes for a moment, thankful that Amber was here to be the voice of reason. She knew Bo just as intimately as he did.
Mrs. Ritter was rattling in his ear and he realized he hadn't heard any of it.
He took a deep breath, moved the phone away from his ear, and put it on speaker.
"Mrs. Ritter, can you say that last part again? I've got you on speaker now."
"The spots start out small but they've spread across his sides and on his back. He ate his dinner at six, just like you said."
Amber was close to his side, her hand still on his forearm, though she didn't seem to notice. "Is he having any trouble breathing? Any fever?"
He glanced at Amber again, because he wouldn't have even thought to ask either of those things.
"No fever. He's breathing just fine."
Amber exhaled noisily and squeezed his arm. "That's good."
"Should we call 911?" he asked her, because he didn't want to make this decision on his own. "Take him to the hospital?"
She shook her head. "Let's call the nurse line and see if it's okay to give him some Benadryl. We can do that on the way home."
"Mrs. Ritter, we're coming to you," he said into the phone. They rang off.
The coat attendant retrieved their coats. Amber's hand jingled in her pocket as they stepped onto the front porch together.
The world was buried in white. Snow was falling in crazy swirls.
Amber’s face had paled to the color of the drifting snow.
He put his hand under her elbow. "I'll drive. We can come back for your car tomorrow."
She sent him a grateful glance that was quickly shadowed by something else.
This is so embarrassing.
The untimely phone call had interrupted their conversation on the dance floor. He'd stepped wrong, and he didn't mean the dance moves that had been aborted.
Amber tucked her face into the collar of her coat, her shoulders hunched against the cold that crept in the back of his jacket and down his spine.
A part of him wanted to throw his arm over her shoulders and tuck her close. Protect her. Keep her warm.
The caveman-like impulse surprised him. What he'd felt when he'd seen her in the ballroom was a visceral attraction. This was something more.
This is so embarrassing.
Why should she be embarrassed that Chuck was interested in her?
The windshield of his truck was covered in snow, the wipers frozen to the window. Snow had accumulated in little mountains around each of his tires.
Her feet had to be freezing in those fancy shoes. And that dress. He opened her door and didn't wait for an invitation before he cupped her waist in both hands and boosted her up. It was too cold to be polite.
He shut the door and rounded his truck to get in the driver's side, knocking snow off his boots quickly before he got in.
He turned over the engine, cranking up the heat even though it wouldn't warm up for minutes.
Did they have minutes to spare?
Amber was dialing her cell phone as he reached across and opened the glove compartment for his ice scraper. His hand bumped her knee, and she jumped.
She put the phone to her ear, pretending she hadn't noticed.
But he knew she had.
"Can I have the pediatric on-call nurse, please?" she said into the phone.
She was taking care of his son.
Hot emotion boiled in his chest as he backed out of the truck to scrape what he could off the windshield.
He'd forgotten what it felt like to be part of a team. He didn't h
ave to worry alone tonight because Amber was here.
What would it be like if Amber were taking care of him?
They were halfway home before Amber got off the phone with the on-call nurse.
She made a quick call to Mrs. Ritter to tell her the dosage of Benadryl.
And then there was nothing but silence in the cab of Jace's truck.
She wished the call had gone on longer.
Jace hadn't been trying to feel her out. He wasn't interested. He wanted to set her up with his friend.
A new wave of humiliation pummeled her. Stupid. Stupid. Stupid.
At least now she had something else to focus on. Bo. She was worried about the boy, wouldn't feel better until she saw for himself that he was all right.
Caring for Bo was the best job she'd ever had. She'd put down roots in Sawyer Creek. She'd been so blessed to find the work. And being Bo's nanny would be enough for her.
It was wrong to wish for more.
The quiet in the cab was broken when Jace cleared his throat. "What'd you mean back there, in the ballroom?"
Oh, crap. Really? He couldn't just be a gentleman and let it go?
She didn't answer, kept her eyes on the snow swirling outside the window. Jace was going maybe ten miles an hour, and that felt fast in this roaring storm. But they needed to get back to Bo.
"Amber?"
Heat prickled in her cheeks. Hopefully, he was too focused on driving to notice.
"I don't know what you mean," she said to the window.
"You said you felt embarrassed."
Seriously? The man was like a dog with a bone.
She let one of her hands pass over her eyes. Grabbed for a straw. "We should focus on Bo, shouldn't we?"
There was a beat of silence between them. "It'll be at least ten minutes before we hit the driveway."
Yeah, but she didn't want to humiliate herself any more than she already had.
"Did I say something that embarrassed you?"
"Oh, my gosh!" she blurted. "Double gosh. You can't leave it alone, can you? I'm embarrassed because when you said you had a friend, I thought you meant yourself. I thought you wanted to ask me out. Are you happy now?"
She framed her eyes with both hands, too ashamed to look at him after that outburst.
The Nanny’s Christmas Wish Page 3
