Take Me, Daddy: A Contemporary Romance 5-Book Box Set

by Nicole Casey

  She was very much like a timid deer and I was reluctant to approach her but what choice did I have.

  She sat on the sofa, swarmed in the knit blankets I had found in my supply closet, staring around as if seeking an escape.

  It annoyed me as if I was keeping her there against her will.

  Which brought me to the second reason she couldn’t stay.

  I didn’t know what her story was or why she was running. Having her stay would only open the door to trouble with her family, trouble I had no interest in finding.

  Handing her the peas, I perched on the edge of the loveseat and waited for her to apply them to her head.

  “Who are you running from?” I asked bluntly. “Why did you run away from home?”

  She stared at me and I was struck again by the innocence she appeared to exude.

  It had less to do with the antiquated clothing she wore and more with the aura of sheltered chastity which seemed to emanate through her pores.

  Her eyes were wide and dark, reminiscent of a set of coffee beans.

  I had to look closely to make out her pupils in their depth and against her fair skin and dark blonde hair, they seemed haunted.

  Her skin was flawless porcelain but it had taken on a waxen appearance, likely from hunger and stress.

  She was a tiny thing, probably not more than one hundred pounds but it was difficult to gauge with all the layers she wore.

  I shifted my eyes down guiltily as I realized I was trying too hard to examine her figure.

  “How did you know my name?” she asked in counter to my inquiry.

  The corners of my mouth tucked inward and I shook my head.

  “You really shouldn’t answer a question with a question.”

  It was something my mom used to say to me all the time.

  To my surprise, she looked embarrassed and nodded.

  “Yes,” she whispered. “You’re right.”

  My brows knit together as I tried to figure her out.

  She certainly didn’t fit the bill of some teenaged rebel, fleeing the house rules and trying to assert her independence but what did I know?

  The only thing I could say for sure was, despite her seemingly naïve appearance, she was not a girl.

  She was most certainly a woman.

  I waited for her to respond to my question but I saw that she wasn’t volunteering information.

  To keep the conversation flowing, I decided to answer hers.

  “Your step-brother, Rudolph was looking for you in Cedar City,” I explained.

  “Randolph,” she corrected and I snorted.

  “Right,” I replied flatly. I didn’t care what his name was.

  “He’s not my step-brother.”

  The words sent a strange chill through me, maybe because of the tone she used.

  There was a forlorn note, a troubled sound which I didn’t understand.

  Of course, I didn’t understand any of it.

  I was torn between wanting to hear whatever sordid tale she had locked away in her mind and plugging my ears.

  “Where are your dogs?” she asked suddenly and I felt the hairs on my neck rise.

  “How did you know I have dogs?” I asked tersely, leaning forward to stare at her.

  Her eyes constricted and she allowed the peas to fall, her mouth opening but no words came out.

  She shook her head and tried to look away but I held her gaze.

  “How do you know?” I demanded, slipping toward her, suspicion churning my stomach. She visibly swallowed as her eyes darting around the living room as if seeking an escape.

  “I came across your cabin last night,” Eloise replied softly. “I upset your dogs.”

  I remembered how agitated Rufus and Clayton had been the previous night and I snorted.

  “I have you to thank for a sleepless night then,” I said sarcastically and her face burned crimson. She was determined to get off on a bad foot here.

  “I’m sorry,” she choked. “I was only looking for some food and shelter.”

  I held back another smart-ass reply, sensing the woe in her.

  If she has been out here since last night, she’s got to be starving.

  “I’m going to make us something to eat,” I told her, rising. “Keep that on your head. I’ll wrest up some Tylenol.”

  She looked at me.

  “Tylenol?” she echoed. “What is that?”

  I eyed her as I retreated to the kitchen.

  “It’s a pain reliever,” I replied. “Like Advil?”

  Her blank look spoke volumes to me and again I wondered where the hell she had come from.

  She had probably never taken a drug in her life.

  “Are you Amish?” I asked. I had never known there to be Amish communities in our parts but what the hell did I know? I was just as sheltered in my own way.

  “Amish?”

  My head jerked up and I stared at her.

  “Are you mocking me now?” I demanded, my patience wearing thin. She had already set me back two hours with her arrival and I was losing the little bit of daylight I had left to work on the second floor.

  I didn’t have time to play silly games with runaways.

  But she wasn’t a runaway, not really. She was a fully-grown adult. If she didn’t want to go home to her family, that was her prerogative, wasn’t it?

  Was she running from an abusive husband? Rudolph the anemic reindeer had claimed she was his step-sister but Eloise was adamant he was not.

  “Mocking you?” Eloise asked her face a mask of confusion. “Of course not. You’re being very kind allowing me to stay here. Even if you did try to shoot me.”

  I laughed aloud.

  “Tried to shoot you?”

  I was beginning to feel like we were a set of parrots, repeating each other like idiots.

  “You fired at me last night.”

  I scoffed and put down the knife I was using, lest she took it as a veiled threat.

  “First of all, I thought you were a coyote. Secondly, if I was trying to shoot you, I would have shot you, Eloise. I’ve been living in these mountains since I took my first breath. I am nothing if not a good shot.”

  Why did I disclose so much about myself to her?

  It was odd for me to supply more than a few words in response to anything and yet there I was, almost babbling.

  I must have been tired from the lack of sleep, thanks to her middle of the night attempt to steal food.

  A sharp bark at the back door saved Eloise from having to reply and I turned my attention to my roving mutts who wanted their dinner.

  “Where have you been?” I demanded at the dogs. “You know it’s suppertime. I expect you home!”

  Rufus swung his black tail and licked my hand.

  I heard Eloise inhale sharply from the other room.

  “Should I hide?” she whispered loudly. “Is that your wife?”

  I burst into laughter as Rufus and Clayton bound inside the cabin toward her voice.

  “They’re kinda like my wife but you’ve met them before,” I told her and she gasped again.

  “You’re fine,” I assured Eloise as the canines rushed inside, a mass of barks and whines. “They won’t hurt you not that you’re an invited guest.”

  I had to wonder why the dogs had not attacked her the previous night when they were trained to identify threats.

  Maybe they saw something in her worth saving.

  Did I too?

  I could see Eloise was trying to be brave, remaining stock still as the dogs sniffed her hands.

  Continuing to chop onions, I watched the scene with interest, smelling the mild fear even from the distance between us.

  She was trembling, her long, dark lashes cast downward as if she was afraid to make eye contact with the animals and waited for them to lose interest.

  I could have called them off but a part of me wanted to see how she handled herself.

  I admit I was surprised she did not panic, despite the
fact she wanted to.

  Why didn’t she freak out?

  In the past, I’d had women in the cabin, women who didn’t care for dogs or mountain living, the mere thought of a spider skittering across the floor enough to send them into a valley girl fit.

  And here was this woman who had obviously been raised in a bubble, holding her own in a strange place.

  She’s made of stronger stuff than she gives herself credit for, I thought. She’s inherently brave.

  “Come on,” I called my hounds. “Dinnertime.”

  They bound toward me and I emptied scraps of raw deer meat into their bowls before plopping the roast into a pan with the potatoes and onions.

  I didn’t realize that Eloise had risen from her spot until she was standing directly beside me.

  “Let me do that,” she offered but I shook my head, dropping the pan into the preheated oven.

  “It’s already done,” I replied gruffly. “And you really should be resting up. If you were out in the cold for that many hours, you might end up getting very sick. Stay by the fire and I’ll make you a coffee.”

  A tea would have been better in that situation but I wasn’t one to drink tea and I certainly didn’t entertain enough to have some kicking around.

  I would have to go back to Cedar City in the morning and pick up some more supplies if Eloise was going to stay anyway. I would get some tea for her then.

  The notion filled me with surprise.

  Who said she was going to stay? And even if she was, how many more things would I need for a day or two?

  A day or two…a day or two…a day or two…

  The words echoed, rolling around in my head as if I was mocking myself.

  “It’s the least I can do,” she insisted but she was no match for my stubbornness.

  “No,” I replied. “Go lay down. If you’re not going to allow me to take you to the hospital, I can’t really afford to have you fall sick, can I?”

  She stared at me for a long minute and oddly, I felt a squeeze in my chest as I returned her stare.

  I felt like she was looking into my soul.

  “Why are you staring at me like that?” I asked, my tone sharper than I had intended.

  Instantly, she looked at the ground and shook her head.

  “I just realized that I don’t know your name,” she replied quietly and I was embarrassed for being so gruff with her.

  “Harding,” I replied quickly. “Harding Jackson.”

  Her blonde head whipped up and she stared at me.

  “Jackson,” she mumbled. “You…have family in these parts.”

  I shook my head, steering her back into the living room by the elbow.

  “No,” I answered. “I am the last one. My parents died recently.”

  It wasn’t recently. It was two years ago, I reminded myself but I was more consumed with the fact I had offered her such an insight into my life.

  There I went again, providing her too much information.

  I just couldn’t seem to help myself for some reason.

  “I’m sorry,” she breathed and I could hear the sympathy in her tone. It made me bristle. I didn’t want her sympathy. I didn’t want her to know anything about me.

  My defensiveness kicked in like a guard mechanism.

  “Why don’t you tell me what you want from me, Eloise?” I said, guiding her to the couch. I stood towering over her, daggers in my green eyes.

  She seemed taken aback by the question.

  “I- I don’t want anything from you,” she assured me quickly.

  “You must want something,” I retorted, crossing my arms over my barrel chest. “You’re here, aren’t you?”

  Her face grew crestfallen but I could see her struggle to maintain some semblance of dignity.

  “I can leave,” she said but there was virtually no confidence in her voice.

  “I didn’t ask you to leave, drama queen,” I replied shortly. “I am just asking you what you hope to accomplish with all this. You have your family looking for you. It’s only a matter of time before they find you. Obviously, you have no plan or you wouldn’t be here. What are you hoping to achieve?”

  She was silent for a long moment and I wondered if she knew what she wanted.

  The longer she was quiet, the more I understood that she hadn’t thought past leaving whatever it was she had left behind.

  What are you running from, Eloise?

  Finally, she looked up at me and sighed deeply.

  “I need to get out of Iron County,” she explained. “Get set up somewhere and find money.”

  I studied her sweet face, warning bells going off in my head.

  “That’s pretty broad,” I told her. “Where do you want to go?”

  She shrugged helplessly, her eyes wide and wet with unshed tears.

  “I don’t care,” she whispered. “Just away from here.”

  We both fell silent then, my heart picking up slightly.

  She had secrets, deep, terrifying secrets which she didn’t want to share but I knew that eventually I would break down her walls and learn what had happened in her family’s home.

  I couldn’t force the story out of her.

  Something told me that she and I had a lot more in common than I liked and if I had a secret, there would be no amount of prodding or interrogation which would make me give it up.

  I just had to wait until Eloise trusted me enough to disclose what had happened on her own.

  I left her alone to relax on the sofa as I went to retrieve the coffee I had promised her, keeping a close eye on her slender frame as I did.

  She was like a lamb, enveloped in all those blankets, her beautiful brown eyes reflective of whatever it was she was running from.

  Tomorrow, I will go into town and pick up more supplies to make her comfortable. Eloise and I will develop a plan to take her safely from Iron County, I decided. And while I am in Cedar City, I will keep my ears open to learn more about Eloise Danzer and her family, even if I have to ask Cane myself.

  I shuddered at the idea of having a two-hour conversation with the old man at Able Cane’s.

  But this mysterious girl had floated into my life inexplicably and she needed my help.

  I was not going to rest until I had answers.

  I wondered if the attraction I was feeling toward her had anything to do with my newfound resolve.

  6

  Eloise

  The dinner was delicious and I was shocked by what he had managed to put together in such a short period of time as if he had been anticipating company.

  The roast was cooked to perfection, melting on my tongue and accompanied by oven roasted potatoes and onions.

  Never had I enjoyed venison so much and I was surprised to learn he had hunted and bagged the deer himself.

  A tossed salad with homemade vinaigrette and freshly baked bread only completed the mouthwatering meal.

  Even Lucy couldn’t cook like that and I was stunned.

  Mostly because he was a man and I had never known a single man in my life to cook anything, let alone a feast like the one which sat in my belly and regained my strength.

  He offered me a glass of red wine from a selection he had in a small rack beneath the island in the kitchen.

  At first, I had been reluctant to accept it.

  Drinking was not something I did. Sir loathed it and control was paramount after all.

  Realizing how much he would have hated it made me nod vigorously and I downed the first glass in two sips.

  Harding chuckled, his dark eyebrows raised in amusement.

  “I’d tell you to take it easy but after the day you’ve had, I say have at it.”

  He refilled my glass and I looked at him gratefully, my heart fluttering slightly.

  It was strange not to be reprimanded by him and I searched his face for any signs of disapproval but there was nothing I could read except perhaps curiosity.

  Could I trust him, despite the way we met? Or was he just
feeling sorry for me?

  I reminded myself that he had not turned me into the police or hospital nor had he thrown me back outside.

  Damn you, Sir and mother. Damn all of you for doing what you did to us!

  Shame flooded me as I thought about Jillian alone in the main house, wondering why I had left her.

  But I would go back for her too.

  “You just got an incredibly pained look on your face,” Harding commented and I tried to force a smile.

  It became more of a grimace.

  “I was just thinking about my sister, Jillian,” I confessed, surprising myself. “She must be worried about me.”

  His green eyes widened but he did not comment and I suddenly remembered something about him.

  “You don’t have any brothers or sisters?” I asked and he shook his head.

  “Only child,” Harding replied. “I always wanted a brother but it wasn’t in the cards.”

  “Cousins?” I pressed, wondering if he knew that we might be more connected than just the heady feeling that seemed to be coursing between us.

  “No,” he replied, not seeming to sense my questions had a hidden meaning to them.

  He took a bite of his meat and stared at me pensively.

  “Tell me about your sister,” he said. “She doesn’t seem to think your home life is as awful as you do?”

  She does. She just doesn’t realize how much worse it’s going to get, I thought grimly.

  “I don’t want to talk about Jillian,” I said and he looked slightly taken aback by my tone.

  “Fair enough.”

  He rose from his seat and I took a long sip of my wine, wondering if I had upset him. The effects of the alcohol were making me feel both giddy and nervous simultaneously.

  I wanted to cling to that feeling forever.

  He lifted the plates from the table and I watched him with awe, a man doing women’s work.

  He clearly lived alone so he must be used to doing things for himself but he had done me such a service hiding me and nursing me back to health.

  Unbidden, the erotic dream I’d had came flooding back to me and I felt myself flush warmly, a combination of the wine and my guilt staining my cheeks as I stood to help him.

  “Just leave it,” he told me. “I’ll get you a towel. You can have a bath if you wish.”