Читать книгу Falling for Her Boss - Bonnie Winn K. - Страница 13

Chapter Five

Morgan flexed his shoulders, but the knot between them didn’t dissipate. Weariness settled in his bones as he walked from the garage to the house. His quick meeting had turned into a marathon. New problems cropped up like dandelions in the spring.

Landowners weren’t happy about the cleanup from a recent pipeline leak in East Texas. Ronnie Broussard had consulted with him, followed procedure, but one owner had made a career of keeping his neighbors riled up. Not that Morgan expected people to be happy about oil spills. But Harper’s cleanup record was the quickest and most efficient for any size transporter. It was something he took pride in.

The dull ache beneath his eyebrows that never seemed to go away intensified. He didn’t want to believe the constant headaches interfered with his judgment, but on long days like this one he wondered. Had he done all he should on this last leak? Or had details become blurred? He couldn’t put the blame on anyone else. Ronnie had followed orders. Just as Tessa had.

She had surprised him with her utter efficiency and dedication to the job. He had expected a steeper learning curve, but her experience and expertise had eliminated the need. Instead, she had made certain that he knew about the leak immediately, then made the calls necessary for a complete and thorough spill cleanup.

If she had been at the helm during the Exxon Valdez spill, history would have been rewritten. Fortunately, Harper’s spills weren’t on that scale. He spent plenty on maintenance and bought the best steel pipe on the market for replacements. It wasn’t a popular choice these days. A lot of his competitors bought the cheapest steel possible. But he refused to endanger the environment. Poppy had to grow up in this world, and he wanted to make sure he did his part to maintain the land under his control.

Morgan remembered all the people who advised him to take the company public, leave these decisions to someone else. He shifted the computer tablet in his hand. That step wasn’t something he was prepared to do.

Still, the exhaustion weighed on him. The previous day had been twenty-two continuous hours. And today’s meeting had begun early, then lasted late. He had expected to be home around three o’clock, not eight in the evening.

Knowing the back door was unlocked, he pocketed his keys. Pushing the door open, he was surprised by the hum of voices. It was time for Poppy to be in bed. Searching the room, he spotted his daughter, decked out in her favorite jammies, sitting at the table. And for some reason Tessa sat with her.

Dorothy noticed him first. “Well, it’s about time.”

He smiled at her despite his fatigue. He knew she worried about him like a parent. “Took longer than I expected.”

“Now, that’s what I’d call an understatement,” she replied, smoothing the sides of her cross-stitched apron in place.

“What’s going on?” He caught Poppy, who had climbed down from her chair and launched herself at him.

“Tessa made special cocoa,” Poppy told him, her small arms encircling his neck.

“Oh?”

Tessa fidgeted. “Just a brand I especially like. My mother sent a care package.”

“She afraid you’ve landed in the boonies?”

Looking mortified, Tessa shook her head. “No, of course not. She just spoils me. Looks like I’m doing the same thing.”

“I told her we often have cocoa in the evening,” Dorothy added with a look that dared him to counter her words.

“Would you like some?” Tessa questioned. “You must be hungry.”

“Yes, you must,” Dorothy chimed in. “We had leftover stew for dinner. Guessed you might be late so I made sure to cook something that warms up even better than the original.”

How could he argue with someone as caring as Dorothy? He wasn’t hungry, but common sense told him he should eat. “Sounds good, Dorothy. Thanks.”

“It has baby carrots and baby peas,” Poppy told him. “And it’s really good.”

“Everything Dorothy cooks is really good,” he agreed, putting his tablet on the counter, glancing at the screen before he turned it off.

Tessa lit the burner beneath a pan of milk. “Won’t take a moment to fix another cup of cocoa.”

He started to protest, but the wall of goodwill was overpowering. And he didn’t have the energy to surmount it. Dorothy scooped some stew into a bowl. Once in the microwave, the warming dinner emitted aromas reserved for waking the deadest of appetites.

Only a few minutes later, Tessa set a mug of hot cocoa in front of him. “I hope you’ll like it.”

He nodded. It was something he’d usually skip, but he didn’t want to be rude.

“Taste it, Daddy. It’s real good.”

He took an obligatory sip. Surprised, he glanced up. “This really is good.”

“It’s bittersweet,” Tessa explained. “Most hot cocoa is milk chocolate, a little sweet for me.”

“She put lots of marshmallows in mine,” Poppy explained, adding a cocoa mustache to her face with another sip. “So it would be sweeter.”

“You’re pretty sweet already,” he told his darling girl.

She grinned. “You always think that.”

Yes, yes, he did.

Dorothy placed a heaping bowl of stew in front of him. “I know you didn’t get your three squares today.”

He’d taken off before breakfast. There was a vague memory of a few doughnuts and coffee. Endless cups of coffee. And he’d skipped lunch.

“I ate my stew at dinner,” Poppy informed him.

“It is good,” Tessa chimed in.

Dorothy looked down at him, then raised her eyebrows.

Picking up a spoon, he dug in, knowing it wouldn’t be wise to say he was too tired to eat. He swallowed a bite. “Delicious.”

Glancing up, he caught Tessa’s concerned stare. She met his eyes, then finally looked down. What was in her aquamarine gaze?

“I’m going to a party!” Poppy announced.

“Party?” He looked at his daughter. “What party?”

“At sunny school,” Poppy replied.

That had been today, he realized. But he hadn’t intended for it to be an ongoing thing. When Tessa brought up the subject, it had seemed harmless, a onetime outing. “What’s she talking about?”

Tessa cleared her throat. “The teacher gave her a handout. The younger grades are having a little party on Saturday. Should be fun with lots of kids.”

He frowned. “I didn’t sign on for a series of church events.”

Poppy’s lower lip began to quiver. “I wanna go, Daddy.”

His throat tightened. There was little in the world he could deny her. “I have to think about it.”

“It’s time for bed,” Dorothy said only a moment later, preempting tears and hurt feelings. “Freckles looks sleepy.”