Читать книгу A Cowboy For Christmas - Rachel Lee - Страница 7
ОглавлениеAbby didn’t see Rory again before he left the following morning. She tried to tell herself he was just being the hermit he had warned her he was going to be, but guilt rode her hard anyway. This was his house, and she’d had the nerve to let him know that she wasn’t thrilled about the arrival of his daughter.
She’d be lucky if he didn’t fire her when he got back. But the truth was, she hadn’t been hired to be a babysitter, she knew next to nothing about kids and a troubled one would be more than she could adequately handle. Maybe she should have waited to bring it up, but concern had pushed the words out of her mouth at the worst possible time.
She wanted to bang her head on something. Porter’s cheating and desertion weren’t that far in the past, and she often felt she was turning into a person she didn’t know and one she didn’t especially like. Bitterness rose often, anger even more often, and resentment was one big mountain inside her.
Maybe worst of all was feeling like an utter failure. She hadn’t been woman enough to keep a husband for two whole years. That meant there was something wrong with her. Right?
Fear, betrayal, failure—they’d become her constant companions. Now she had proved how they were twisting her by reacting to her boss’s joy about his daughter with the most selfish response she could have voiced.
Maybe this wasn’t a new version of her. Maybe this was what she had been all along without realizing it. If she’d been treating Porter the way she had treated Rory, why wouldn’t he leave her?
Everything inside her felt so miserably mixed up she couldn’t figure out up and down anymore. That certainly made her incapable of looking after a child, but she could have been more diplomatic.
Frustrated with herself, she cleaned the whole house again. There were four elaborate guest rooms upstairs, each with its own color theme, but no way to figure out which one Regina might get. Nothing she could do about that.
She peeked into the master suite, a bright sunny room decorated in blues and browns that indelibly stamped it as masculine. She dusted it thoroughly, cleaned the bathroom until it shone, changed the sheets, then left the sanctuary otherwise untouched.
She drove into town to the library to get some books to read, then found herself unable to concentrate on them. She’d done something stupid, and she wasn’t going to know the outcome until Rory returned. If she had a chance, she ought to apologize. Not for refusing to be a babysitter. She knew she wasn’t adequate for that. But for the way she had said it. For her timing.
Except the truth stared her in the face. She hadn’t been hired to care for a child, and if that had been mentioned before she accepted the position, she might have looked for something else. As if jobs grew on trees.
She groaned, being honest with herself. Working at the truck stop hadn’t been quite enough to meet her bills, and soon she would have had no place to go. This job was an unexpected godsend.
She didn’t have anything against kids. It was just that she didn’t feel adequate to taking care of one, beyond maybe cooking and cleaning. She’d never had a younger sister or brother to practice on. She’d never babysat anybody, because she’d always had a job after school. Inadequate, that was what she was, but why should that surprise her?
On the other hand, she knew perfectly well she couldn’t find another job that paid as well as this one. A generous salary with room and board included. If she could hang on for a year, she’d be able to save enough to resume her college education.
But instead of thinking of that, she’d had an utterly selfish and ugly reaction to a man’s joy. Job or no job, she needed to straighten that out as soon as he came back.
Two days later the hour of her reckoning arrived. Rory called, saying they were at the airport but were going to stop at the grocery. Did she need anything?
A polite, courteous call, utterly unnecessary. She didn’t know how to judge this man at all. “I’m fine. Just whatever you and Regina need.”
“Okay. I hope you don’t have a problem with dogs.”
“Dogs?”
“Regina brought her Great Dane with her. Thank goodness he’s a good flier is all I have to say.”
“A Great Dane?” She almost squeaked.
“Yup. I figure I need to buy all the dog food at the feed store before we come back.” Then he surprised her with a laugh. “Don’t panic, he’s a gentle giant.”
A dog and a kid. After hanging up the phone, Abby sat at the table. A huge dog and a troublesome kid. Oh, this could get interesting.
A couple of hours later, she found out. The truck pulled up and almost instantly a coltish girl with her father’s dark hair and blue eyes bounded out of the passenger side, and right after came a dog that was bigger than she was. A Harlequin Great Dane, Abby guessed, given that he was white with black spots. Beautiful.
Big.
Regina went tearing off over the open landscape, the dog racing along with her. Rory stood watching for a minute, then went to the back of the truck and began unloading.
Abby decided there’d never be a better time to apologize to him, so she hurried out. “Can I help?” she asked.
“Groceries, if you don’t mind. Apparently certain foods are necessary to the survival of ten-year-olds. As for the dog food, unless you want to heft forty-pound sacks, leave that to me. I guess I can keep them out in the barn.”
“Didn’t she bring anything for herself?”
“A duffel. The rest will be shipped.”
She reached for some of the cloth grocery bags, then said quickly, “I’m sorry for how I reacted when you told me Regina was coming. I know you must be thrilled.”
He paused as he reached for a sack of kibble. “It’s okay, Abby. You weren’t hired to be a nanny, and frankly from what I’ve been hearing, that’s not what she needs. I think those nannies got run off because Stella was ignoring her. For a kid, any attention is better than none.”
Abby, too, paused and dared to look at him. His blue eyes seemed quiet, like deep pools. “That’s sad,” she said finally.
“I agree. Anyway, she needs me.”
“Considering you came here to be a hermit, your life could get difficult.”
“Not because of her. We stopped and signed her up for school. She starts tomorrow. She also understands my work habits. If she wants, she can spend time in the studio with me.” He cocked a brow. “Unfortunately, now she’s talking about getting a horse.”
In spite of her lingering nerves, Abby laughed. “That’s a job and a half.”
“No kidding. I used to take care of them. Well, we’ll see. I expect we’ll jolt a while before we all settle in somehow.”
He looked after his daughter and the running dog. “What I said about your job changing?”
She tensed again. “Yes?”
“I meant only that now there’s somebody who has to get regular meals.” Then he flashed a grin at her. “And I don’t mean the dog. General is her job.”
“His name is General?”
“Rally for short. And no, don’t ask me to explain. It just is.”
Abby helped with the groceries, then began stowing them as Rory took the rest of the dog food out to the barn. One forty-pound bag had taken up residence on the floor of the spacious pantry, however. Along with two stainless steel bowls on a stand.
Shrugging, Abby put the stand in one corner of the kitchen with a rug under it and filled one of the bowls with water. That dog must need a good drink by now.
She heard the girl and dog burst in through the front door before Rory had finished putting the dog food away. Apparently General, or Rally, knew exactly what he needed and where it was. The clacking of claws on wood alerted her, and Abby backed away to a safe distance. Moments later, the Great Dane skidded through the door and found the water bowl. He was not a neat drinker.
Regina followed more hesitantly. “Hi,” the girl said. She looked so much like her father but with a heart-shaped face.
“Hi,” Abby answered. “I’m Abby.”
“I figured. Lots of people call me Gina, but I like Regina better.”
“Regina it is.”
A shy smile. “Rally’s a good dog. You don’t need to be afraid of him.”
“He looks as big as a horse.”
“I’m sorry he’s so messy.”
“It’s just water.”
Regina gave a little laugh. “He drools, too. Lots of big dogs do. But it’s my job to clean up after him.”
“Is he allowed on furniture?”
Regina nodded. “He likes to take up a whole couch. I hope Dad has two.”
“Dad has plenty,” Abby answered wryly, thinking of the huge living room with its equally huge furniture, including two oversized sofas and full-sized piano. White carpeting. She wondered how often she’d be spot-treating it.
Just then Rory came in the back door and joined them.
Rally drained the bowl and looked around.
“Does he need more water?” Abby asked. “I can get it.”
But Rally seemed to have another interest. He walked slowly over to Abby, who tried not to shrink. Heavens, she was almost eye-to-eye with him.
“Rally, sit,” Regina said mildly.
The dog obeyed, but Abby had to laugh because even as he sat in front of her, his tail was wagging like mad. “He does seem friendly.”
“Hold your hand palm up and let him sniff you,” Regina said. “Then you can pet him and you’ll be friends for life.”
Friends for life sounded like the best alternative with an animal so big. She glanced at Rory and found him watching with amusement.
Still unsure but determined not to show it, Abby held her hand out as directed. Rally leaned his head forward and sniffed at her hand. His breath was powerful, matching his size, she guessed.
“Now you can scratch him behind the ear,” Regina said.
Abby did so and enjoyed the way the dog suddenly grinned and wagged his tail even harder.
“Friends for life,” Rory said. “But seriously, Abby, Regina cleans up after him and feeds him.”
“Right,” Regina said. “Can I see my room now? And you said you have a big studio. Am I allowed in there?”
“Any time you want.”
The two of them headed upstairs to pick the girl’s room, but Rally remained behind. Abby stood looking back at him, wondering if he wanted more petting, more water, or just to hold her prisoner. She had no idea.
Drool started to drip from his jaw. He extended a big tongue to slurp it away. And for some reason that made him look less dangerous to her. Big, sappy dog, she thought.
She extended her hand again, and this time he leaned into it, encouraging her scratches. Okay then. Not a prisoner.
Almost laughing at herself, she moved. He backed away, watching with his head cocked. After she refilled his water bowl, he drank half of it. Apparently satisfied now, he amazed her by loping for the stairs, following Regina’s voice.
This could work, Abby thought. Well, it kind of had to. And thank goodness this was such a big house. The dog had made this huge kitchen feel small. Briefly.
Regina seemed nice enough, a great relief since she’d been expecting a hellion. Of course, that could change, but right now everything appeared to be all right.
She caught herself as she started pulling out the ingredients for dinner. She had developed a terrible habit of expecting everything to turn out badly. Everything. She didn’t even know that child, but here she was making assumptions that it would all go to hell.
“Thank you, Porter,” she muttered to her absent ex-husband as she began to slice thawed chicken breasts into small cubes for chicken Alfredo. She needed a major attitude adjustment of some kind. She just wasn’t sure how to do it.
For what seemed like ages she’d been living in a sea of pain and betrayal, and it wasn’t as if she could wash it away with a shower. Trust had been shattered, suspicion had become a way of life and apparently so had the belief that everything would go south eventually.
Not a very optimistic outlook for a twenty-six-year-old woman. She had a lot of years left, and unless she wanted to become a paranoid recluse, she needed to get over this hump.
Hump? Right now it looked bigger than the Rocky Mountains she could see out back.
* * *
For over a week, everything went well enough. Regina came home from school, grabbed a snack and either disappeared to her bedroom or out to the barn to do her schoolwork. She pretty much left Abby alone. While Regina was at school, Rally hung out with Rory, whether he was in the barn or walking the fields. Abby grew sick of cleaning the same bathrooms and bedrooms and doing the laundry and keeping up with the dust.
Dust ended up everywhere, not surprising given that autumn had dried out the area and quickened the breeze, but on so many polished surfaces, from kitchen to floors to railings, it was a nuisance to keep up with and couldn’t be ignored.
She served Rory and Regina their dinner in the dining room, and ate her own in the kitchen before she cleaned up the dishes. Usually Rory showed for dinner, and she could hear him and Regina chatting and laughing. A couple of times he didn’t return from the barn, leaving his daughter to eat alone. She didn’t seem to mind.
For the first time it struck Abby that this job could bore her to madness. She needed something to do for herself, a project or a hobby. She’d always had a job, but nothing like this one that made so few real demands on her.
Every room had a TV tucked somewhere, including her own, and a satellite dish outside provided a wide selection of viewing, but TV couldn’t occupy her for long.
She was used to being much busier. Except for cooking, this job could have been handled in two or three days a week.
Well, Rory had told her she was free to do as she liked, so she could go to town and visit friends who would probably only try to sympathize with her about Porter and Joan, or question her about the habits of her famous boss. Neither appealed to her.
Standing in the middle of the stainless-steel kitchen that desperately needed something to bring it to life, she looked out the wide window over the sink. In the distance she could see trees tossing in a freshening wind and tumbleweeds rolling like gigantic bowling balls. Toward the mountains, she saw heavy, dark clouds building.
A change in the weather would be nice. Any change would be nice. “Gah!” she said aloud.
Regina should be the one bored to death, she thought, but the girl seemed quite happy. Also willing to ignore Abby. She thought about Regina’s room, and while it was beautifully decorated, it was rather Spartan in an emotional sense. It lacked personal belongings, other than a few things she had brought with her. Was that how she had lived with her mother?
If so, she felt sorry for the girl. She wondered if she should offer to take her to town to get some decorations to make the room her own. But maybe that would be overstepping.
It was almost a relief to hear the front door open, even if it meant only that Regina would race to the pantry, grab a snack and a can of soda from the fridge and vanish again. Movement. She needed movement. Life. Activity. More than dust and bathrooms, laundry and cooking.
Regina popped in as always, with a shy, “Hi,” then headed for the fridge.
Abby broke the routine. “How was your day?”
Regina paused, can of soda in hand, and turned to look at her. The refrigerator door swung shut behind her. Then she smiled, that same heart-melting smile her father sometimes displayed.
“What’s up?” she asked Abby.
Now how was she supposed to answer that? Finally Abby grabbed what little courage she had left and spoke the truth. “I am bored with cleaning, cooking and washing. There’s not enough to do. So I asked how your day was.”
Regina tilted her head to one side, then a giggle burst out of her. “Dad said I wasn’t to bother you.”
“Oh, please bother me.”
Regina’s giggle turned into a laugh. “Okay.” She pulled out a chair at the table and sat. “My day was great. I’m making some friends, although I think might be because of who my dad is.”
The statement shocked Abby. That a girl this age should even have to wonder about such things? It wasn’t right. “Or maybe they just like you.”
“I don’t know. That’s the problem with having famous parents. You can’t be sure.”
Abby stepped closer, sympathy rising in her. After her own experience, she completely connected with what Regina was saying. Lack of trust had entered her own life, too. “I never thought of that.”
“I have to. I’ve watched people suck up to my parents because of who they were, and not all of them are nice. So you have to be careful, that’s all.”
“That’s sad.”
Regina popped the top on her soda. “It’s worse for my dad, I think. He can do stuff for people. I can’t do anything for anyone. Do you want one of my Cokes? I mean pop. That’s what everyone calls it here, I guess.”
“Thanks. I have coffee.” Abby grabbed a mug and came to sit cautiously at the table. “I didn’t mean to hold you up. I know you have homework and stuff.”
“Rally’s maybe wondering where I am, but there’s not a whole lot of homework. So you’re bored? I wondered.”
Abby tried to smile, feeling like a bit of a fool for even mentioning it to the girl. It wasn’t her problem. “Was it that obvious?”
“Well, I haven’t talked to you much, but cleaning all the time would get pretty boring for me.” She furrowed her brow. “No hobbies?”
“Not yet. I used to be busy all the time. This is new for me.”
“I guess it’s new for both of us. When I lived with Mom, she had me signed up for everything. I like being able to choose what to do with my time.” Again that head tilt. Abby wondered if she’d learned it from Rally. “That could change, I guess. Do you like to do stuff on computers?”
Abby thought about it. “You mean like go online? I was never much into that, although maybe I should poke around. I might even learn something.”
Regina giggled again. “Well, Dad’s got plenty of computers. Maybe you should look around and see if there’s something you like. You can even take classes online if you’re desperate enough.”
“Really?”
“Really.” Regina rolled her eyes. “Where have you been hiding?”
“In a marriage and a job. And with friends. Like I said, busy all the time.”
Regina grinned. “Maybe I should stop straightening up my room.”
“Don’t you dare. More cleaning is not the answer.” But Abby had to laugh. She was really liking this child.
“I can’t wait until my stuff gets here,” Regina remarked.
“Your stuff?”
“Yeah, Mom’s supposed to send all my clothes and other things. There was a limit to what I could get on Dad’s plane, especially once I said I was bringing my dog.”
“He would take up a lot of room.”
“And weight. So yeah, I only brought a few things with me.”
Abby hesitated, feeling her heart go out to the child. “Are you glad you came? Or are you homesick?”
“Oh, I’m glad. I never saw my mom anyway, and I hated those nannies. I had to be perfect all the time, and a lot of them didn’t like General. If you don’t like my dog, you don’t like me.”
An interesting perspective, Abby thought. She could appreciate it, though. “Rally’s a good dog.”
“Yup.” Regina stood up. “I need to get out to the barn before Dad looks up and notices the time. Or before Rally starts driving him nuts cuz he knows I ought to be there now. Heck, Rally probably heard the school bus even inside the barn. He’s good at that. Grab yourself one of the laptop computers. I’m sure Dad won’t mind, and they’re all hooked up to the internet.”
She grabbed a small bag of chips, said a cheery goodbye and headed out back toward the barn. Not five minutes later Abby saw girl and dog racing around outside with the sheer joy of being alive and together.
Maybe she should have been born a dog. Nothing she could do about that now, so she went to get a laptop from the front room. Looking around the web might lead her to something interesting.
An hour later, she set the table for dinner. Two places in the dining room, her solitary one in the kitchen. Spaghetti and meatballs, homemade sauce. Crusty garlic bread and a tossed salad. She wondered how many would eat.
Before she could fill serving dishes, however, she heard the back door open. A minute later, Regina entered the kitchen carrying two plates that she put on the kitchen table.
“What?” Abby asked.
“This is silly” was all the girl said. In another minute, she had three places set at the kitchen table.
“But your dad...”
“Doesn’t mind,” said the deep familiar voice of Rory. He stood in the kitchen doorway, smiling. “Do you?”
“Of course not.”
“Good, because I was starting to feel like a feudal lord in that dining room. All I need to fill it are about twenty minions. Tonight you sit. Regina and I will wait on you.”
Abby felt her cheeks heat. “That’s not...”
“It’s perfectly right,” he said. “Now sit down, Abby. Regina is looking forward to this.”
Abby looked at Regina, who was beaming. “I am. I never got to do this at Mom’s. You might have to give me instructions.”
“I can do the instructions,” Rory said. “I wasn’t always a too-big-for-my-own-hat superstar, you know. I grew up on a ranch and everyone pitched in. I even used to cook and wash dishes.”
Regina giggled. “You do dishes?”
Rory pretended to scowl at her. “I do indeed.”
“This I want to see,” his daughter answered pertly.
Deciding she really had no choice in the matter, and honestly not minding it because it was fun to watch, Abby sat at the table while Rory and Regina worked to serve the meal. Rory gave gentle instructions, but only when needed, allowing his daughter to do most of the task. Abby’s help was needed only when they didn’t know where to look for something, such as the ladle.
“Really sorry, that’s me,” muttered Rory. “I ought to know what’s in my own kitchen.”
Regina answered. “Your head’s too busy filling that hat.”
He laughed. But then Regina turned and gave him a big hug around his waist. “You’re cool, Dad. And the important thing is writing your songs. I like that new one you’re working on.” Then she went back to serving dinner.
“It’s giving me fits,” he admitted. “Long ago, before I made it, I used to have more melodies and lyrics floating around in my head than I could use. Feels like the well went dry.”
Which, thought Abby, was probably what he’d meant about this place rebuilding him. He’d lost something essential, and he wanted it back. She knew the feeling all too well, except in her case she’d finally reached the point where she didn’t want any of it back. But for him it had to be different. This was not the kind of divorce any artist wanted, she was sure. Watching him move around the kitchen, he didn’t appear troubled, but he sure appeared attractive. The background sizzle he always elicited in her had arisen again. Attracted to her boss? Not good.
Soon they were gathered in a cozy group around the kitchen table. Abby complimented the food generously and Regina said, “I’d like to learn how to make the spaghetti sauce by myself. I could have my friends over for a spaghetti party.”
That caused Rory to lift his head. “So you’re making friends?”
“Of course. It’s easy when your daddy is Rory McLane.”
Abby tensed, watching Rory’s reaction to that. Sadness seemed to flicker over his face. “Sorry, kiddo.”
Regina shrugged. “They’ll get over it soon enough. Then I’ll find out who’s for real.”
One corner of his mouth lifted. “How old are you again?”
She giggled. “Old enough. It’s okay, Dad. And actually, I like it. Here I’m meeting kids who don’t have famous parents. It’s different.”
His smile faded again. He looked as if he wanted to say something, then decided against it. Regina didn’t miss the cues, though.
“I know,” she said. “Mom was into the whole scene. Who I could hang out with, all that. I almost never got to meet ordinary kids.” She twirled her fork in her spaghetti. “How can I ever be ordinary if I’m always in a box?”
“A box?” Rory asked.
“A box. That’s how I felt.” But she didn’t seem to have any other way to describe it.
Abby listened to this, both troubled and amazed. She had never before considered what it might be like to be Regina, to have two famous parents. She wished she could ask questions, but Regina had moved on to talking about other things, like getting a horse, leaving Rory to look vaguely troubled.
* * *
After dinner, having been dismissed from dish duty, Abby followed her usual custom of disappearing into her suite at the back of the house. It was a cozy space, decorated pleasantly in warm yellows and blues, clearly designed with a woman in mind by the decorator.
She had a bedroom, a sitting area with a small kitchenette and her own bathroom with a separate shower and a walk-in whirlpool tub. Elegance beyond any she had ever known. All by itself it was a livable apartment, and from the windows in the sitting area she had a beautiful view of the mountains and the barn where Rory was working. She even had her own private entry from outside.
Nicer than any dwelling in her entire life, and even though she enjoyed it, sometimes she felt a bit like an impostor. She didn’t come from wealth and saw herself as an outsider looking in. She wondered if Rory ever felt that way.
Her parents had owned a small catalog store that had thrived for many years, but had eventually gone broke with the upsurge of internet shopping. Abby had started college a few years late as she tried to help them through the hump, but finally her dad had found a job in Colorado Springs and they had moved away. They’d sent small sums to help with her school expenses, then she’d met and eventually married Porter. When she’d had come back here as a new bride, she’d been hired by Joan to look after Joan’s dress boutique, a small business with a select and limited clientele. Everything had seemed perfect.
Until Porter announced he was leaving with Joan. She supposed, in those moments when she was able to find some gratitude, that she was lucky they’d decided to leave town. Joan sold her boutique, Porter found a job as a clerk with a big law firm in Idaho and the two had vanished...after Porter sold his family house in town.
Since his betrayal, she’d been working as a waitress at the truck stop, nursing her wounds, unable to see the possibility of ever getting herself unstuck, emotionally or physically. She’d had to rent a small apartment, all she could afford, and the community college offered no classes beyond the ones she’d already completed. She’d been looking at a bleak future until she saw the ad for this job.
Now she could sock away enough money to go to the state university. If she could hang on long enough.
She wished she hadn’t told Regina how bored she was. She ought to be feeling awfully grateful, boredom aside. Life had given her a stepping stone to a brighter future, even if she no longer knew what she wanted that future to hold.
Sitting with Regina and Rory at dinner tonight had awakened some old dreams. Or maybe they’d been illusions. Illusions of long years with Porter, of children of their own, of happy family gatherings. Of having a family again. Her parents were now so far away she could only afford to drive down to see them once in a great while, and her dad had a heart condition that prevented him from attempting the trip.
So here she sat, stuck in Conard County, with a whole bunch of unhappy memories. All of it her own fault, she supposed.
It had been sweet of Regina to include her in dinner tonight, but she couldn’t expect that to continue. She was an employee, and her employer had been frank about coming here for solitude.
Given that, though, it was kind of surprising how happy he’d been about getting his daughter. She’d have loved to know the story behind that.
She stared at the stack of library books beside her bed, but didn’t feel much like reading. She remembered the computer out in the living room, and in a moment of genuine curiosity about her rooms, she started investigating spaces she hadn’t yet really looked at.
Oh, she’d put away her clothes in the dresser and surveyed the kitchen appliances and utensils, but she hadn’t examined the desk in one corner of her sitting room. It looked like a simple writing desk with one bank of drawers up the side, but she hadn’t needed a desk yet.
Rising, she went over and began to open drawers. The top one, which appeared merely to be a decorative front and had resisted her efforts to pull it open, turned out to have a tip-down front. When she did that, it slid out and revealed yet another laptop. Regina hadn’t been kidding about them being all over the house, like the TVs.
This one was hardwired into a wall connection, but the cord was long enough that she was able to pull it out and set it on top of the desk. The drawer then closed most of the way and she pulled the secretarial chair back in front of it.
This could be cool, she thought. Maybe she’d research those online courses Regina had mentioned, in case she had enough money to take one before long. Maybe she could get a head start on going back for her degree.
Her heart leaped a little at the prospect.
She should have checked this out sooner. But ever since coming here, housekeeper or not, she had felt a little like an interloper and had tried to respect privacy. She didn’t open drawers outside the kitchen. She didn’t poke into closets. Sooner or later she supposed she’d have to or the closets would get dusty. She needed to ask Rory what her limits were.
Just as she was about to turn the laptop on, she heard a quiet knock at her door. It was so unusual that she started. Immediately she wondered if Regina needed help.
Jumping up, she went to answer it and found Rory standing there, the fingers of one hand tucked into his jeans pocket. He stood back a foot in the short hallway, as if to give her space.
“Sorry to intrude,” he said, smiling, “but I wondered if you could give me a few minutes. Out in the living room.”
“Sure,” she answered promptly, oddly relieved that he didn’t want to come in here, although she didn’t know why. Too intimate? That was silly. He owned the place.
Then she got nervous. Had she done something wrong? Was he going to fire her? Other than her one ugly, incautious remark, she couldn’t imagine that she’d done anything terrible.
Of course, not having done anything wrong didn’t mean much, as she had already learned the hard way.
“Want some coffee?” he asked as they passed the kitchen.
“No, thank you.”
“Grab a seat. I’ll be right with you.”
She perched on the edge of one of the heavy, large armchairs. Built solidly of wood with blue cushions, their massiveness helped counter the immense size of the room, as did the two huge couches and the piano in one corner. You could probably play basketball in here, she thought, trying to keep a sense of amusement. She was failing miserably.
He wasn’t long, returning with a mug of coffee. He looked around. “You know, this isn’t exactly a cozy room, is it? We could shout from opposite ends of it.”
Her tension began to ease, and a small laugh escaped her. “Good for entertaining.”
“I didn’t come here to entertain, although I suppose it could happen. This is what happens when you hand a contractor and a decorator a few ideas and cut them loose.” He shook his head. “Kitchen?”
“Please.” Maybe there she wouldn’t feel so tiny and insignificant.
They adjourned to the kitchen table and sat facing each other across it.
“This feels almost human-sized,” he remarked. He leaned back in his chair and regarded her over the top of his mug as he took a sip. She felt the attraction again, the way something about him seemed to draw her. It wasn’t just that he was good-looking, although he was, but some other aura that made her feel the stirrings of passion that she had tried to cut out of her life. No wonder Rory McLane was a superstar. Every woman probably felt the same way about him.
She dared to ask, “Did you really just cut them loose?”
“The builder and decorator? Yeah. See, that’s been part of the problem. I’ve been so busy all the time with everything I’ve had to do that I haven’t been writing any decent music of my own, or running any other part of my life. So this is where I get to. A hermitage that could double as a small hotel.” He shook his head a little. “I shouldn’t complain. I’ve been damn lucky.”
“Talented, too,” she suggested.
“Well, lately I’ve been wondering about that. But that’s not what I wanted to talk with you about.”
Anxiety returned, creeping along her nerve endings. “Did I do something wrong?”
“No!” He appeared startled. “Nothing like that. I just thought it might help you to understand some of what’s happening here. Yes, I know the ground rules I originally set out. You pretty much go your way and I go mine. But now there’s Regina, and a dog, and things got a little more complicated for everyone. The way things are going, there’s probably even going to be a horse or two, some slumber parties, some other parties....” He paused, looking momentarily overwhelmed, then continued. “So I thought you might be more comfortable if you knew some things, rather than spending your time wondering what the heck happened.”
As her anxiety eased, she was able to smile. “You make it sound like an invasion.”
“It probably will be, by the time all’s said and done.” His smile was a little crooked. “Just another way for Stella to get even.”
“Stella?”
“My ex. Regina’s mother. Do you keep up with country music?”
She shook her head, feeling inexplicably embarrassed. “No, sorry.”
“No apology needed. Suffice it to say, my ex is a big deal in her own right, only she eats it all up. The only person she saw more than me and her band during our marriage was her hairdresser and her plastic surgeon.”
Abby couldn’t help it. She clapped her hand over her mouth to stifle her laugh.
“Exactly,” he said. “I probably shouldn’t sound so critical. Me, I can age gracefully. She’s a woman, and youth and beauty are part of her trade. Sorry comment on society, but that’s the way it is. Anyway, when we split, there was a custody fight and I lost. The judge was sympathetic to the idea that a girl needed her mama more than her dad. I figured I had to wait until Regina was old enough to decide who she wanted to live with, and put up with our long separations.”
“But something happened.”
One corner of his mouth lifted. “You could say Regina happened. She created more trouble for Stella than a pack of weasels let loose in the house.”
This time Abby let the laugh escape. “She doesn’t strike me that way.”
“Me, neither. Oh, I’m not gonna claim she’s perfect. What kid is? But the constant loss of nannies finally became enough to make Stella forget how mad she was at me.” He shifted, looking down. “I often think the only reason she wanted full custody to begin with was because it was another way to get back at me. Guess I was right. So Stella gave me full custody and I have my daughter back.”
Everything inside Abby softened. “I could tell how happy that made you. I’m glad.”
“Me, too. She’s out of that plastic, over-regimented environment. Stella is all about appearances, and I was afraid she’d make Regina that way, too. Hasn’t happened yet, evidently.”
Abby decided not to address that. After all, today was the first time she’d really spent any time with Regina. She liked the girl, but she didn’t really know her yet.
“Anyway,” he said, “that brings us to the invasion. I’m sorry if it put you out.”
“It hasn’t put me out at all,” Abby said swiftly. She almost squirmed as she remembered her initial reaction and how that must have felt to him. “I’m sorry I blurted that out about not being hired for childcare.”
“Well, it’s true, you weren’t. Don’t worry about it. And I’m not asking you to step up to that plate now. That’s not why we’re talking. I just want you to know the background, because it must have felt like a whirlwind hit.”
“It was a surprise, but not that momentous. I like Regina.”
“If she bugs you too much, let me know.” He leaned forward and put his cup down. “I’m not the world’s best dad. I get lost inside my own head sometimes. Well, I’m trying to. Been a while since I had time to do that. But I’m going to ask you something.”
She waited, trying to look anywhere but right at him. She was afraid he would read her reaction to him all over her face. Appalling to realize she wanted him. A man who could have any woman in the world. A man who saw her as nothing but a housekeeper. Did she have a nose for trouble, or what?
“If she lets you know in any way that she feels I’m neglecting her because I get too absorbed in my composing, will you tell me?”
Abby nodded. “Okay, I can do that.”
“Thanks.”
She thought that would end their conversation, but instead he rose, refilled his mug and returned to the table.
“So what’s your story, Abby?” he asked, his tone surprisingly kind.
It was that kindness that got to her. It felt like a long time since anyone had expressed a truly kind interest in her. Her friends had grown angry on her behalf, and too many people had been trying to avoid looking at her, as if she made them uneasy. His frankness, the gentleness of his tone...well, they made her throat and chest tighten.
Oh, man, she didn’t want to start weeping. She tried to draw some steadying breaths, and finally managed to say, “Old familiar story. Husband runs off with another woman. Who happened to be my boss until then. Nothing unusual in that, I guess.”
“Maybe not, but that doesn’t make it any easier. I’m sorry.”
She couldn’t answer. She became fascinated by the pattern on the tabletop. Easier than looking at him and perhaps seeing pity.
He astonished her by reaching across the table and lightly covering her hand with his. “We all have some healing to do,” he said quietly. “Maybe this place will help us find some peace. Good night, Abby. Thanks for listening.”
She didn’t move until she heard him reach the top of the stairs. Then she stood and turned off the coffeepot, rinsing it out so that it would be ready for morning.
As she turned out the kitchen light and walked back to her rooms, she wondered what to make of what had just happened. The guy had reached out to her, shared some of his problems, asked about hers. Then he’d gotten up and walked away.
Had she repulsed him somehow? She wouldn’t be surprised considering the way Porter had bailed on her. Something about her had to be very wrong. She just couldn’t figure out what it was.
Much to her amazement, before she could close her suite door behind her, Rally trotted in. Still afraid to get into a disagreement with an animal so big, she readied for bed, leaving the door open, and finally climbed beneath crisp sheets and a puffy comforter.
The dog leaped up beside her and put his big head next to hers and his paw across her waist.
A hug from a dog. This might be her absolute nadir, but she didn’t care. He comforted her.
And maybe that was what she really needed.
