Читать книгу Fortune's Little Heartbreaker - Cindy Kirk, Cindy Kirk - Страница 9

Chapter Three

Oliver found himself enjoying his conversation with Shannon. She was obviously an intelligent woman who appeared to truly care about his situation.

“I asked Amelia for names since Amber and Jensen were fresh out of ideas.” Oliver paused and tilted his head. “Are you certain I can’t get you a refreshment?”

Shannon smiled. She had quite a lovely one. While her features were too strong to be considered classically beautiful, there was an arresting nature to her face that made a man—even one who’d sworn off women temporarily to focus on his son—take a second look.

Though he must admit, he couldn’t recall the last time he’d seen a woman in denim and cotton. Not to mention cowboy boots. The pants hugged her slender figure like a glove, and the shirt, though not tight, hinted at underlying curves. Yes, she was striking indeed.

“I guess I could take a cup of tea, if it’s not too much trouble.”

He was so focused on her lips that it took him a second to process. “No trouble at all.”

Oliver was putting the kettle on the stove when the doorbell rang.

“Would you like me to get that?” Even as she asked, Shannon was already rising to her feet with a fluid grace comparable to any of the ladies he knew back in London.

“Thank you, yes.” Oliver pulled his gaze from her backside and gave Ollie a biscuit. His son squealed with delight.

He heard Shannon speak, then recognized his brother’s voice.

Jensen strolled into the room, dressed casually—for him—in brown trousers and a cream-colored polo shirt. There was curiosity in his eyes when his brother’s gaze slid between him and Shannon. “I didn’t realize the two of you were acquainted.”

“Shannon showed me around this lovely home,” Oliver announced.

“That’s, ah, correct.” Shannon, who’d appeared relaxed only moments before, now appeared ready to bolt.

The fact puzzled Oliver. He’d been under the impression that while Shannon and Jensen weren’t well acquainted, they were on good terms.

“Will you have a cup?” Oliver asked his brother. “I have Fortnum & Mason.”

Jensen’s smile gave Oliver his answer, while Shannon’s brows pulled together.

“Fortnum & Mason is a popular British tea manufacturer. They have a Smoky Earl Grey blend that Oliver—and almost everyone in the family—prefers,” Jensen explained before Oliver could open his mouth.

“I’m sure it’s delicious, but I’ll have to pass.” Shannon appeared to make a great show of looking at her watch. “We can talk another time, Oliver. I have plans and I’m sure you and your brother have a lot to discuss.”

Oliver’s heart gave an odd lurch. He surprised himself by crossing the room, taking her arm and leading her back to her seat at the table. “Nonsense. You’re staying for tea.”

“Down,” Ollie called out. “Want down.”

“I can get—” Shannon began.

Oliver held up a hand, then fixed his gaze on his son. “What do you say?”

Ollie stared at him with innocent blue eyes before his mouth widened into a grin. “Pease.”

“Good man.” Oliver lifted his son down from the high chair.

Jensen exchanged a look with Shannon. “Amazing.”

Shannon cocked her head, but before Jensen could explain, Oliver looked up from wiping Ollie’s hands.

“Nothing amazing about it. Child rearing is no different from running a successful business enterprise. Rules and order are essential.” Oliver shifted his gaze to Shannon. “My brother expected me to be a bumbling feckwit incapable of rearing my son.”

Oliver pulled out a bin containing an assortment of toys, placing several before Ollie on the rug within eyeshot of the kitchen table. The whistling teakettle brought him back to the stove, where he produced three cups of the steaming brew in short order.

“Surely he’s seen you in action before?” Shannon cradled the “I Love Texas” mug in her hands with an unexpected reverence.

“Oliver only recently gained custody of Ollie,” Jensen explained. “After Diane...”

Jensen stopped and slanted Oliver an apologetic glance. In their family, private matters weren’t usually discussed in the presence of a guest.

“Diane was my ex-wife,” Oliver explained. “The divorce was already in process when Ollie was born. Because I believed a child—a baby especially—needed his mother, I didn’t fight her for custody. She recently died in a car accident.”

“She shouldn’t have been out that night.” Jensen’s voice rose and anger flashed in his eyes. “She should—”

“Enough.”

The quietly spoken word was enough to stop Jensen’s potential tirade in its tracks.

“She was Ollie’s mother.” Looking back, the person Oliver blamed most was himself. He should have paid more attention. He should have known that Diane was spending more time with her new boyfriend than with Ollie. “The accident occurred fairly recently.”

He felt Shannon’s hand on his arm, looked up to find her soft eyes filled with compassion. “I’m sorry for your loss.”

“We’d been divorced over a year.”

“You were also once married to her. That means you once loved her.” She gave his forearm a squeeze, then removed her hand.

Oliver nodded briskly.

Diane hadn’t wasted any time finding another man once the baby was born. She’d been with yet another man when she died. That’s why the sadness he’d experienced upon hearing of her passing had blindsided him. He finally accepted it was understandable, given this was a woman he’d once known and loved.

Jensen steepled his fingers and his gaze settled on Shannon. “I understand you work for your father.”

“I do.” She sipped her tea and her smile told Oliver she found it pleasing. “The Triple S is a large spread. I do mostly administrative work, but in a pinch I’m able to do just about anything—feed cattle, vaccinate, castrate...”

“Good Lord.” The words popped from Oliver’s lips before he could stop them.

“You’re in the Wild West now, brother.” Jensen grinned. “Oh, and before I forget, I brought you some more names of possible nannies for Ollie. These are from Amelia since you didn’t appear happy with any of the ones Amber and I suggested.”

“I’m very particular when it comes to my son,” Oliver said without apology.

Jensen took a sip of tea, then lifted the mug higher to read the inscription—“This Ain’t My First Rodeo.” His lips twitched and he shook his head before taking another drink. Seconds later he reached into his pocket and pulled out a sheet of paper. “The latest list.”

“Perfect,” Oliver pronounced. “We’ll take care of this right now.”

Jensen tilted his head back. “How do you propose to do that?”

“Miss Singleton knows everyone in the area.” Oliver smiled at Shannon. “She and I will go through the names over dinner and decide which ones to interview.”

“I’m afraid that won’t be possible.” Shannon set down her mug, the flash of irritation in her eyes at odds with her easy tone. “I have plans.”

“Break them,” Oliver ordered. “This is more important. A child’s welfare is at stake.”

* * *

The men in Shannon’s family often told their friends that she was a contradiction: a purring kitten and a ready-to-strike rattler. The consensus seemed to be it was best not to push her too far.

The good humor drained from Shannon’s body. Did the rich and powerful Oliver Fortune Hayes really think he could, with a cavalier wave of his hand, dismiss her plans for the evening?

There was no reason for him to know that those plans were fluid. Several friends planned to eat and drink their way through platters of nachos and bottles of Corona beer at the Hollows Cantina during happy hour. They’d told her to join them if she was free.

But as Shannon opened her mouth to reiterate she had plans, his words gave her pause. As much as she didn’t want Oliver to think he could bring her to heel with a single wave of those elegant fingers, she wanted him to find a suitable nanny for Ollie.

You’d think after growing up with four younger siblings—and years spent babysitting—she should be tired of children. But she loved them. Not just the small ones. She even got a kick out of the often obnoxious teenagers from Lubbock who came out to ride horses as part of a Country Connection program.

Ollie was such a cute little guy and he’d recently lost his mother...

“Shannon.” Oliver reached across the table and took her hand. “Please. I need your help.” His tone was softer this time.

Heat rose up her arm. For a second she forgot how to speak. She licked her lips. When his eyes darkened, her resistance melted into a liquid pool.

“I’d love to stay and chat, but Amber is expecting me.” Jensen attempted to hide his grin by raising the cup to his lips for one last swallow. “It appears you two have a lot to, uh, discuss.”

Shannon flushed. “Be sure to tell Amber hello from me.”

“I will give her your regards.” Jensen gave a slight bow of his head, all serious now. One hundred percent British. He turned and handed Oliver the promised list. “The names.”

“Thank you.” Oliver took the list in his left hand, extended his right. The two men shook.

Shannon blinked at the civilized gesture. She tried to imagine her brothers shaking hands and...couldn’t. Punching each other, heck yes. That occurred on a daily basis.

Because the men were standing, she also rose to her feet. Jensen shook her hand before he left.

With a resigned sigh, Shannon turned to Oliver. She had to admit she was curious whom Amelia had recommended. She gazed pointedly at the list dangling from his fingers. “May I see it?”

With paper in hand, Shannon wandered back to the table and sat. Taking a gulp of tea, she narrowed her gaze and scanned the names.

After putting down a few more toys for Ollie, Oliver took a seat across from her.

“What do you think?” he asked when several seconds had passed. “Any good possibilities?”

Shannon laid the paper on the table and sat back. “Do you want tactful? Or honest?”

Oliver’s gaze lingered on her face, and a curious energy filled the air. An invisible web of attraction wrapped around them. When he leaned forward, Shannon was sure he was going to kiss her.

Unable to move, she held her breath and stared into those brilliant blue eyes.

His lips were a heartbeat away when little Ollie let out a high-pitched squeal. Shannon turned her head just in time to see him gleefully knock down the stack of blocks.

Though he’d recently lost his mother, the child appeared happy and content, with the dog sitting upright beside him. Right now all was well in his life, and that warmed her heart. But the little boy’s world could quickly take a nosedive if Oliver hired any of the women Amelia had suggested.

She shifted her gaze back to Oliver. The moment had vanished. It was almost as if it had never existed. This made Shannon wonder if it had been simply wishful thinking on her part.

“Quinn isn’t much for gossip and your sister is relatively new to Horseback Hollow.” Shannon strove to keep her tone matter-of-fact. “I grew up here. I keep my ear to the ground.”

The expression seemed to puzzle Oliver. His dark brows pulled together.

“I know everything that goes on in this town,” she clarified. “Things your sister and even her husband might not know.”

Understanding filled his eyes. “Tell me.”

“Will you keep it confidential?” Though Shannon liked to have the scoop, she wasn’t a gossip. Okay, not much of one. The only reason she was considering sharing what she knew with Oliver was to protect Ollie.

“Most certainly.”

Based on what Shannon had observed, Oliver appeared to be an honorable man who loved his son and wanted the best for him.

Hoping she wasn’t making a mistake dissing women his sister had recommended, Shannon went through the names on the list one by one. By the time they’d gone through three, Ollie had tired of his toys and was rubbing his eyes and whining. Barnaby sprawled on a nearby rug, snoring lightly.

“Let’s break for a few minutes.” Oliver rose to his feet. “I need to change Ollie’s nappy and put him down for a kip.”

He inclined his head, and she knew what he was asking without him saying a word.

“I’ll wait.”

“Your dinner plans?”

“No worries.” Though it was almost five and the start of happy hour was seconds away, Shannon was no longer in a hurry to leave. “While you’re taking care of Ollie, I’ll make us another cup of that delicious tea.”

“Thank you.”

When he and his son disappeared down the hall, Shannon sent a quick text to her friends, canceling her appearance, then put the kettle on. By the time he returned from the bedroom, the tea was ready.

“How is he?” She placed the two cups on the table.

“Dry and sleeping.” He gestured toward the steaming tea. “Thank you for that...and for staying.”

“I let my friends know I’d be late.” She raised a hand when he started to protest. “I want to finish this with you. We only have two names left.”

He studied her for a long moment before dropping his gaze down to the list and pointing. “What about this one?”

“Sally Steinacher drinks.” When Oliver opened his mouth, she continued. “Not just socially. She has a problem. The family did an intervention last year and she went through treatment, but she’s fallen off the wagon. Last week when I was in Vicker’s Corners, I spotted her coming out of a liquor store with a sack.”

“Perhaps she was buying for a friend or a family member,” Oliver suggested.

Shannon gave him a pitying glance. “What kind of friend or relative would send an alcoholic to buy them liquor? Even if someone were that stupid, Rachel and I ran into her later on the street and we both smelled alcohol on her breath.”

Oliver lined through her name with a single precise stroke of his Montblanc pen, the same way he’d done with the previous three names. “We’ve now reached the last person on the list. Is Cissy Jirovec a possibility?”

The hopeful look in his eye vanished when Shannon shook her head.

“She used to live in Horseback Hollow. Cissy calls Vicker’s Corners home now. She’s a nice person and I know she did a lot of babysitting while she was growing up.”

“Then what’s the issue?”

There was something about having those vivid blue eyes focused on her that Shannon found unsettling. “The problem isn’t with Cissy. It’s with her boyfriend.”

“I wouldn’t be hiring him.”

“Wayne used to live in Horseback Hollow. He has a bad temper.”

“What does her relationship with this man have to do with her suitability for the position?”

“Wayne has a child from a relationship with another woman in Lubbock. Several years ago he lost his temper and broke his daughter’s arm. The doctors in the ER found other healed injuries when they examined the little girl. He was charged with felony child abuse. I read all about it in the Lubbock paper.”

“He did this to his own child?”

“He did.” Shannon nodded solemnly. “I would hope Cissy wouldn’t invite Wayne over while she was watching Ollie. But if Ollie were my son, I wouldn’t take the risk.”

Just as he had with the previous four names, Oliver drew a line through Cissy’s name. With one hand he crumpled the sheet of paper.

“I might have hired one of these women.” There was a look of restrained horror on his face.

“On the surface they look good. But, don’t despair. The placement agency you’re working with is top-notch. They’ll do a good job of screening the candidates for you.” She offered him a reassuring smile. “You’ll find that right someone soon.”

Oliver shook his head. “I think I’ve just found her. I want you to watch Oliver.”

“Pardon me?”

“Name your price.”

“Mr. Fortune Hayes—”

“Oliver,” he interrupted, offering her a smile that turned her bones to liquid. “If we’re going to be living under the same roof, it makes sense to be on a first-name basis.”

Her breath caught in her throat. “What are you saying?”

“We should be on a first-name basis. Don’t you agree?”

“I—I suppose.”

“Splendid.” The smile that split his face made him look almost boyish. “Shall we shake on it...Shannon?”