Читать книгу Single Dads Collection - Lynne Marshall - Страница 72

“WELL, SHE’S ASLEEP.” Rory plopped down on the sofa beside Shannon, who was pulling strands of tinsel through her fingers to untangle them. Supper had gone well. But after the dishes had been cleared, Finley had begun to nod off, so Rory had taken her for a bath. “She went out like a light the second her head hit the pillow.” Rolling his head across the sofa back, he smiled at her. “You’re great with her.”

Shannon laughed. “Not really. In case you didn’t notice my strategy, I simply kept her busy until she dropped from exhaustion.”

He laughed.

“I’m serious. She’s obviously a smart little girl. She bores easily. The trick to preventing tantrums might be simply keeping her busy.”

“I can’t always do that. I have a company to run. So it’s her nanny, Mrs. Perkins, who gets the brunt of her moods. Though she spends a lot of time entertaining Finley, there are days when Finley only wants me. If she breaks down and calls me and I come home, we feel like we’re rewarding Finley for bad behavior.”

“You are.” She turned her attention to her tangled tinsel again. She didn’t like to pry, but he needed help and now that she’d spent a little time with Finley, she realized she’d learned a great deal watching her friends and their children in South Carolina. “There are lots of things you can do to discipline her. The first is to get her accustomed to hearing the word no. But you have to be smart about it. If she’s tired or hungry, she won’t take well to it. If you don’t watch her mood, and discipline her when she’s not open, it’ll make things worse.”

He tweaked her hair. “How’d you get so smart?”

She shrugged. “I pay attention?”

He laughed. “Right.” He paused, obviously waiting for her to say more, and when she didn’t he said, “I’m serious. I’ve asked you this before, but you always blew me off. And I’m curious. Did you read a book or something? Because if you did, I’d like to get that book.”

“No book.” She ran some more tinsel through her fingers, once again debating how much to tell him. After a few seconds, she said, “When I lived in South Carolina with my ex, all of our friends had children. We’d be invited to picnics and outings and I’d see how they handled their kids. My husband really wanted children and I wanted to be a good mom. So I’d watch.” She laughed slightly at how stupid she probably sounded. “Technically, I spent my entire marriage watching other people raise kids.”

The room grew silent. Every pop and snap of the logs in the fireplace echoed in the quiet room.

Rory finally broke the silence. “So what happened?”

She peeked at him. “Happened?”

“To your marriage.”

Once again, she thought before answering. There was no way she’d tell him the truth. It was humiliating to be deserted by the man you loved on the day you needed him the most. Humiliating that a man who’d truly loved her couldn’t stay. Humiliating that she’d been abandoned for a physical defect.

Plus, Rory was in Green Hill to buy her store. They might be spending some personal time together because of the storm, but at the end of the weekend they would be business associates.

Still, they were stranded together and he’d told her some personal things. So she couldn’t totally ignore the question.

She ran the last of the first strand of tinsel through her fingers and began spooling it around her hand so it would be ready to hang the next day when Rory and Finley left.

“I suspect my ex was a little like your ex.”

He laughed. “Really?”

“He had very definite ideas of how he wanted his life.” She continued spooling so she didn’t have to look at him. “He wanted things to be a certain way. When we hit a point where I couldn’t make those things happen, he dumped me.”

He sat forward, dropped his clasped hands between his knees, then straightened again and caught her gaze. “I’m sorry your ex was a jerk.”

“I’m sorry your marriage didn’t work out.”

Once again silence reigned and unspoken thoughts rippled through her brain. He was a nice guy and, at her core, Finley was a sweet little girl. She’d give anything to have had a good husband and a beautiful child. Anything.

Rory leaned toward her and her heart expanded in her chest. They were only a foot apart. A shift forward by him, a shift forward by her and their lips could touch.

But uncertainty leaped in the dark depths of his deep brown eyes. Though he didn’t say a word, she knew the litany undoubtedly rattling through his head right now. They were both wounded. He had a child. And as soon as they got out of his storm, they’d be doing business. They shouldn’t get involved.

He pulled back, away from her, confirming her suspicions, and disappointment shuddered through her.

He rose. “I guess I’d better head off to bed myself. I’ll see you in the morning.”

She smiled. “Sure. See you in the morning.”

But something splintered inside her heart. Since Bryce, she’d lived with a feeling of inadequacy. Not being good enough. Never feeling womanly enough. Though Rory had good reasons not to kiss her, those feelings of inadequacy reverberated through her. Whispering like demons, reminding her that for lots of men she wasn’t whole, wasn’t good enough…couldn’t ever be good enough.

The next morning the world was still a winter wonderland. Rory ambled into the kitchen to find Shannon sitting at the table, drinking a cup of coffee.

She smiled at him over the rim. “No Finley?”

“She’s still sleeping.”

“Good, then I can tell you I watched the local news this morning.”

He winced. “Bad?”

She laughed. “Depends on your point of view. Raleigh’s employees get another unexpected vacation day. We got another six inches of snow last night and the roads haven’t been cleared from the first storm.”

Rory didn’t care. Finley was well-behaved, happy, for the first time in the two years they’d struggled without her mom. Another day of not looking at the store didn’t bother him. Unfortunately, he wasn’t the only person in this equation.

“I’m sorry that you’re losing revenue.”

“Funny thing about running the only department store in a twenty-mile radius. You might think we’d lose a lot of business by being closed for the entire weekend before Christmas, but the truth is we’ll just be busier Monday through Friday.” She smiled. “We’ll be fine.”

Rory got a cup of coffee and headed to the table. Sitting across from her, he noticed she wasn’t wearing a lick of makeup. Her hair had been combed but not styled and the riot of curls made her look young, carefree. Kissable.

His heart cartwheeled in his chest as longing sprinted through him. But he’d already been through this in his head the night before, so he ignored the yearning in favor of the more important issue. In spite of the fact that he’d almost kissed her the night before, she wasn’t upset, angry or even standoffish. She still liked having him and Finley at her home.

He picked up his coffee, drank a long swallow, then said, “How about if I make omelets this morning?”

“Oh, I love omelets!” Her face brightened in a way that shot an arrow of arousal through him. He didn’t know what it was about this woman that attracted him so, but he did know that these feelings were inappropriate. She’d done so much for them in the past two days that he owed her. He shouldn’t be ogling her or fantasizing about kissing her.

“I have some ham, some cheese. I’ll bet there’s even a green pepper or two in the refrigerator.”

“Western omelets it is, then.”

Yawning, Finley pushed open the swinging door. “Morning.”

Rory scooped her off the floor. “Morning to you, too.” He kissed her cheek. “I’m making omelets.”

Her eyes widened with delight. “Good!” She scooted down. “I’ll set the table.”

Shannon caught his gaze, her eyebrows rising in question. He shrugged. But he knew why Finley was so helpful, so accommodating. He’d like to take credit, but he couldn’t. Shannon was the one who’d so easily guided her into helping with meals and setting the table, keeping her busy so she wouldn’t get bored and misbehave.

And the way he thanked her was with inappropriate thoughts of kissing her?

Not good, Rory. Seriously, not good.

Shannon chopped the green peppers and ham, while he gathered eggs, beat them in a bowl. They worked together companionably, happily, as Finley set out plates and silver. But when breakfast was over, Finley slid off her seat. “Are we going now?”

Rory looked at Shannon. Then realized what he’d done. He hadn’t just turned to her for help with Finley. He trusted her. He wanted her advice.

That was not good. Not because she couldn’t help, but because his reaction had been automatic. Instinctive.

“Are we ever going to get out of here?”

Shannon rose from the table, taking Finley’s plate with her. “Aren’t you having fun?”

Her lip thrust out. “Yeah. Sort of.”

“The roads are still pretty bad,” Rory said. He walked over to her and lifted her into his arms. “Unless the snowplow comes through sometime today, we’re still stuck here.”

Her lower lip jutted out even farther. “Okay.”

Shannon understood her cabin fever, but multiplied by about fifty. Not only was she stuck in her house, but she was also stuck with a man she was really coming to like who wouldn’t want her if he knew the truth about her. Even if he was interested and asked her out, she’d never accept a date. Lying awake the night before, she’d realized that if they dated, at some point she’d have to tell him she couldn’t have kids. The last man she’d told hadn’t taken it so well. Just like Bryce, Rory wanted kids. Was it worth a few weeks or months of her happiness to put him in a position of having to dump her when she told him?

It wasn’t. Which was why the subject of a date or romance or even liking each other would never come up, if she could help it. And why needing to keep Finley busy was such a lucky, lucky thing.

She walked over to the six-year-old. “I have an idea. I have a neighbor who lives over there.” She pointed over Finley’s shoulder, out the window. “She’s a little bit older and her husband died last year. So when we get stranded like this, she’s all by herself. Imagine being all by yourself for three days, no company, nobody to talk to.”

Finley gasped and pressed her hands over her mouth. “I’ll bet she’s scared.”

“Maybe not scared. But lonely. So, since the weather’s not so bad that we can’t go out, I was thinking we could bake a cake and take it to her.” She glanced at Rory, silently asking for his approval as she detailed her plan. “We’d have to walk, but we could think of it as fun, like we did yesterday when we were sledding.”

Rory frowned. “How far away does she live?”

“Not far,” she assured him. “Just far enough that we’d get a good walk in the fresh air.” She faced Finley. “So, do you want to try to bake a cake?”

“What kind?”

“I have a box mix for a chocolate cake and one for a yellow. We could make peanut-butter icing for the chocolate. Or chocolate icing for the yellow.”

Finley slid out of her father’s arms and to the floor. “I like peanut butter.”

“So do I.” She nudged Finley to the door. “Go back to the bedroom and change out of your pj’s and we’ll get to work.”

Finley nodded and raced out of the room. Rory followed her. “I’ll help her.”

By the time they returned, Shannon had the box cake mix on the center island, along with a mixing bowl, mixer, eggs, butter and water.

“Give me two minutes to put on jeans and a sweatshirt and we’ll get this into the oven.”

She scooted out of the kitchen and into her bedroom. The bed was neatly made. The bathroom was also neat as a pin. But the Wallace family scent lingered around her. Finley’s little-girl smells mixed with Rory’s aftershave and created a scent that smelled like home. Family. She didn’t even try to resist inhaling deeply. She might not ever become a permanent part of their lives, but she liked these two. This weekend was her chance to be with them. She might not kiss him, but she wouldn’t deprive herself of the chance to enjoy them.

Once in jeans and a University of Pittsburgh sweatshirt, she ambled out to the kitchen. Finley climbed onto a stool beside the center island. “What can I do?”

“I don’t know? What can you do?” She laughed.

But not getting the joke, Finley frowned.

Rather than explain, Shannon said, “Can you break eggs into a bowl?”

She glanced back at Rory. He shrugged. “There’s a first time for everything.”

Shannon set the bowl in front of Finley. Pulling an egg from the carton, she said, “You take an egg, like this—” Demonstrating by putting the egg against the bowl’s edge, she continued, “And crack it against the edge of the bowl like this.” The egg broke in half, its contents spilling into the bowl.

“My turn.” Finley grabbed an egg and hit it on the rim. Miraculously, the white and yoke tumbled into the bowl. She tossed the shell beside Shannon’s and clapped her hands together with glee. “I did it!”

“Yes, you did.” Shannon handed her the open box of cake mix. “Take out the plastic container. We’ll open it and dump that into the bowl, too.”

With Shannon giving Finley the opportunity to be involved in every step of the process of cake baking, it took a long time to get the cake into the oven. They played two games of Go Fish while it baked. After lunch, they made simple peanut-butter icing, spread it across the two layers and slid the cake into a carrier.

Once again, they dressed Finley in two pair of jeans and two sweaters. When they stepped outside, the snow glowed like a million tiny diamonds. Rory carried Finley across the field that separated the two houses. They stomped the snow off their boots as they walked across Mary O’Grady’s back porch to the kitchen door.

Mary answered on the first knock. Short and round, with shaped gray hair, Mary wore a festive Christmas sweater and jeans. “Shannon!” She glanced at Finley and Rory. “And who is this?”

“Mary O’Grady, this is Rory Wallace and his daughter, Finley.”

As Shannon made the introduction, Rory hoped Finley wouldn’t say something awful about the sweet-looking woman’s sweater.

“Rory was on his way to Green Hill to take a look at the store when they were stranded on the highway and had the state police bring them to my house.” She offered the cake. “Since we’re all getting a little bored, we brought a cake to share.”

“Well, aren’t you sweet,” Mary said, opening her door to invite them in. She pinched Finley’s cheek. “And aren’t you adorable!” She smiled at Rory. “It’s nice to meet you.”

“It’s nice to meet you, too,” he said, sliding Finley through the door. The kitchen hadn’t been remodeled the way Shannon’s had. Old-fashioned oak cupboards dominated the room. A rectangular table, with four ladder-back chairs, sat in the center.

Mary fussed over Finley. “Let me help you with your jacket.”

Finley glanced at her dad. Rory nodded his head slightly, indicating she should just go with it.

Unzipping Finley’s coat, Mary faced Shannon. “Sweetie, why don’t you put on a pot of coffee so we can enjoy that cake properly?”

Shannon laughed. “You’re a woman after my own heart, Mary.”

After removing her coat, she walked to the counter with the ease of someone who’d been there before. Rory watched her root through the cupboards to find the filters and coffee. She got water and measured grounds.

Mary helped Finley onto a chair. “And what can I get you to drink, sweetie?”

Rory held his breath. She hadn’t mentioned the sweater, but she’d gotten a little nervous over having a stranger help her with her jacket. They weren’t out of the woods yet.

Finley smiled. “Milk.”

Rory breathed again, as Shannon retrieved some plates and coffee mugs from the cupboard and joined them at the table. “That’ll only take a minute.”

Rory faced Mary. “You have a lovely home.”

She batted a hand in dismissal. “I had such plans for this, then my Joe died. And I just sort of lost interest.”

“But we’re hoping to have a contractor out here next summer, aren’t we, Mary?”

Mary’s face saddened a little more. “I thought you were leaving if you sold the store.”

“Probably.” She glanced at Rory, then back at Mary. “But we already looked at the books with the cupboard samples. All you need to do is finalize your choices and you can easily have the entire kitchen remodeled before fall. If you want, you can call me every night with an update or tell me your problems and I’ll help you figure out how to solve them.”

Mary sat beside Shannon and patted her hand. “You’re very good to me.”

Rory suppressed a smile. It seemed he and Finley weren’t the only strays that Shannon cared for. A few times it had popped into his head that her kindness to him and Finley might be an act of sorts to keep herself in his good graces when he looked at her store on Monday. He’d dismissed that thought, but now he could totally put it out of his mind. Shannon Raleigh was a genuinely nice woman.

His heart twisted a bit. She was a nice woman. And Finley liked her. If he were in the market for a romance, she’d be at the top of the candidates list.

But he wasn’t looking for a romance.

The coffeemaker groaned its final release and Mary jumped from the table. “Cut the cake, sweetie, and I’ll get the coffee.”

In a few minutes, everyone had a slice of cake and a cup of coffee or glass of milk. They talked some more about Mary’s plans to remodel her house, then Mary asked Finley about school and Finley launched into an unusually happy, unusually lengthy discussion of her classes, her classmates and recess.

Mary seemed to soak it all up, but Shannon really listened, really participated in the conversation with Finley.

When the cake was gone and the conversation exhausted, Shannon rose from the table and gathered their plates, which she slid into the dishwasher. “We really have to get going. Not only do we have to make something for dinner, but it will also be dark soon.”

Mary rose, too. “That’s the bad thing about winter. It gets dark too early. And with all these clouds, you can’t count on the light of the moon to get you home.”

Finley laughed. “That’s funny.”

Mary tickled her tummy. “I’m a funny lady.” She pulled Finley’s jacket from the back of her chair and helped her slide into it. “You can come back anytime you like.”

Finley nodded.

“Just always remember to bring cake.”

At that, Finley giggled.

After sliding into her parka, Shannon picked up her cake carrier and headed for the door. “I’ll call you tomorrow.”

“Oh, you don’t have to. I’m fine.”

“I know, but Mom and Dad are arriving one day this week for the holiday. So you’ll be invited to Christmas Eve dinner. I’ll need to give you the time.”

“Sounds great.”

Shannon gave her a hug, opened the door and stepped out onto the cold porch.

Carrying Finley, Rory followed her. “She’s great.”

Leading them down the stairs, Shannon said, “She is. But she was even funnier when her husband was alive.” She peeked back at Rory. “He had a heart attack two years ago. She’s really only now getting back into the swing of things.”

“That’s hard.”

“Yeah.” She caught his gaze again. “But lots of life is hard.”

He knew she was referring to her divorce, which she’d barely explained. Still he could tell that life—marriage—hadn’t treated her any more fairly than it had treated him. It was no wonder they got along so well. Both had been burned. Both knew nothing was certain.

They finished the walk chitchatting about nothing, making conversation to alleviate the boredom. But when they got into the house and Shannon pulled off her knit cap, throwing snow around her kitchen when she freed her hair, a knot formed in Rory’s stomach.

He liked her. He wanted to kiss her so much that he’d almost acted on the impulse twice.

He didn’t want to get married again. He wasn’t even sure he wanted to get in a serious relationship again. But he liked her.

And he wanted to kiss her.

And if he didn’t soon get out of this house he was going to act on that impulse.