by Dora Hiers
Sierra’s lashes shuttered, as if the mere mention of the dance was painful. “Yeah. This Friday.”
He swallowed and took a sip of water. “Would you mind if I asked Violet to go with me?”
Her eyelids popped open, and cinnamon lashes fluttered against creamy cheeks. Her mouth opened, but nothing came out.
He’d surprised her. In a good way. He liked that. He fought the grin curving his lips but surrendered when she dazzled him with a sweet smile.
“Violet would love that, and so would I.”
“Sierra, it’s a daddy/daughter dance. By the very title, I would assume moms weren’t allowed.”
Her head tilted slightly, that ever-present smile still gracing her lips. But this one was like he’d just handed her the most wonderful Christmas present she’d ever been given. “Actually, I’m working the dance, but do you realize what you just said?”
Was this a trick question? “Of course. I just said it, didn’t I?”
“You’re not Violet’s daddy, either, but—”
Her words slammed into him like a blow to his gut. His fork clinked against the plate as he reared back, his shoulders slumping at her rejection. A quivery sigh escaped his chest, and he pushed the words past a constricted throat. “I would give anything to be her daddy. You know that.”
Giant tears glistened from her eyes, lighting them up like precious jewels. She didn’t say anything as her hand slid across the linen tablecloth to cover his.
He stared down at his plate, the pasta a blur. A hammer pounded in his temple, and pressure mounted in his chest. Was he doing the right thing? Did he have enough patience to wait?
“—but if I could have handpicked her daddy, it would be you.”
It would be you. The words stopped the hammering. She’d ended the sentence with present tense. He closed his eyes and willed his lungs to work again. When he opened his eyes, she was staring at him, a funny expression on her face. Did he dare hope?
“Thank you for that.” He inserted all the love he could into those two words without frightening her. “I couldn’t love Violet any more or any less, and I promise you, Sierra. No matter who comes and goes in your life, Violet will never feel like she isn’t loved. I’ll see to that.”
Please, Lord, help me keep that promise.
19
Camdon scanned his resume one last time, not finding any typos or areas to improve. It was as good as he could make it.
And it was now or never. At least for the City Manager’s opening in Harrison. Buddy had been at the helm for years, and if the City Council members approved of the next candidate’s performance, they’d most likely stay on for years, just like Buddy.
Lord, You know my heart. You’ve blessed me with so much, and I’ll do my best wherever You plant me. If You can use me in this job, I pray that You’d prepare the way. If not, I ask that You’d bring in someone who will do a fine job, someone I can continue to work with and appreciate their leadership.
He attached the cover letter along with his resume. His finger hovered over the send button, a cohesive image of his loved ones filling his vision and overwhelming his heart. Sierra and Violet. Remi, Carson and their mother. Please, God. Don’t let me hurt them with this. Protect them, always.
There. That was better. He pushed send.
Now, there was one more thing he wanted to accomplish tonight. He tapped the metal frame of the laptop. What was the name of that realtor? Ah yes. When the realtor’s website loaded, he scrolled through the available listings. The house Sierra had bookmarked wasn’t there. What was up with that?
He typed in the location, and bingo! But now the house showed that it was listed through Silver Properties. The company Carson worked for. Hmmm…interesting.
He studied the pictures and description of the house. Even after flipping through the pictures a second time, he still felt that the house was too small and the property too large to maintain, but at least it gave him a feel for what she liked.
He picked up his phone and punched in his brother’s number. Maybe Carson could shed a little light on the house.
****
Sierra smoothed the silky material over her hips, taking one last look in the mirror.
She’d forgotten the last time she’d worn a dress, especially something this fancy, but Wilma had insisted on taking her and Violet dress shopping when she heard they were going to the dance. And since neither of them had anything appropriate to wear, Sierra had surrendered.
What was all that commotion outside the front door?
She scurried across the cold wood floor in bare feet, excitement warring with worry. Would this evening only strengthen Violet’s desire for a dad? And what about her? Lately, she’d had enough trouble keeping thoughts of Camdon’s sweet kisses and his tender touch at bay. Tonight would be sheer torture.
She tugged open the door and caught her breath.
There was Camdon. A striking coal black suit fitted nicely over his broad shoulders, and a crisp, stiffly starched shirt stretched against his muscular chest. A hammer paused in mid-air. His jaw dropped, and his eyebrows hiked high on his forehead. “Wow!”
She smiled, a contented sigh settling in her heart. “Wow is right. You look…”
“Beautiful.”
She shook her head, her spirit already lighter since he showed up. “Nah. I think handsome works better for you, don’t you think?”
He stared at her. “You look stunning.”
“Thank you. What were you doing with that?” She flicked her head toward the tool still poised in the air.
His smile slid into a grin. “Fixing your number.”
He’d fixed more than her number. With his faithful friendship and his offer to escort Violet to the daddy/daughter dance, for the first time in her life, she was beginning to feel whole, nurtured, loved. And that was all due to God, but she was beginning to understand that sometimes God used people to get His message across, to bring healing. A man like Camdon.
He tossed the hammer into the toolbox then scooped it up, fumbling until he held it securely in his hand. “Be right back.”
In seconds, he was back on the porch holding a giant bundle wrapped in tissue paper and another smaller container. The cool air swirled about his face in short, shallow puffs.
She’d been so caught up in watching him that she’d hardly noticed the frigid temperature until now. She rubbed the thin silky material lining her arms. Her skin might be cold, but she didn’t need anything to warm up the inside. Fire had replaced blood to race through her veins. She fought the tremendous urge to slide her palms up his chest and curl around his shoulders, to brush her fingertips against his freshly shaved jaws. Mercy! What was wrong with her lately?
She waved him inside, blinking to shut down the image of him in that body-sculpting suit. He filled it out well. Too well. “Come on in before we both catch a cold.” Not that she was worried about that. Not with the heat curling her toes and warming her all the way up.
“Whoa, Nellie! You’re the bomb, Camdon.” Violet pressed a hand over her chest. “I’m coming home, Elizabeth!”
Violet tended to be a drama queen most times. But even Sierra caught the shock in her daughter’s voice and the wide-eyed look, as if realizing for the first time that a man Camdon’s age could actually be attractive.
Sierra grinned. Attractive wasn’t strong enough of a word. Striking. In a totally masculine way. The heart-stopping, toe-curling, steal-your-breath kind of way.
His scent filled her space. Something woodsy and natural and fresh. He reached for the small of her back, his touch gentle and sparking tenderness, as he extended the tiny gift to Violet. “This is for you, sweetheart.”
Violet opened the box. Her jaw dropped. “Ohhh!”
Tears filled her daughter’s eyes. She held out the box.
Sierra peeked inside. A miniature rose arrangement mounted on an ivory-laced bracelet nestled inside the clear plastic. “Oh, Violet. It’s beautiful.”
&nb
sp; Violet threw her arms around Camdon’s neck, knocking him into Sierra. He snaked an arm around Violet. The other held Sierra tight to keep her from falling.
Violet pulled back, her lips quivering and tears brimming over her cheeks. “Thank you, Camdon. It’s beautiful.”
Sierra couldn’t stop the emotion from clumping in her throat or the tears that slipped down her own cheeks. Couldn’t halt the stream of love and gratitude that bubbled up and overflowed from her heart.
Not possible. Not after glimpsing the glow of pure happiness on Violet’s face. Or the obvious devotion shining from Camdon’s.
“Just like you.” Camdon’s gaze skimmed Violet’s face.
“Don’t think she heard you. She’s too busy checking out that gorgeous corsage.” Sierra sniffled, wishing she had a tissue nearby because she sure wasn’t going to miss out on a moment of this tender scene to get one.
Camdon rested his cheek on her head. His deep voice rumbled. “She’s as beautiful and precious as her mother.”
Sierra gasped and lost the war with another sniffle. How much of this could she take before he wore her “no dating” policy down with his sweet words?
“Can you help me, Camdon?” Violet held up the delicate bracelet, the miniature pink petals complementing the deep hue of her dress perfectly.
“Sure.” His arm fell away from her back, and he slipped the tissue wrapped package on the hall table.
Sierra struggled to get her limbs to move. She reached for her phone sitting on the hall table. With shaky fingers, she managed to snap a couple pictures of the striking pair. She wanted Violet to savor the memories from this night. Just like she would.
“Thanks, Camdon. I’ll be right back. I need to, uh…” Violet’s cheeks scrunched as she considered her words. “Um, I need to visit the restroom again before we leave.”
Oh. Right. A ploy to give them time alone.
Camdon chuckled. “Restroom. Gotcha. Take all the time you need.”
When Violet pivoted and disappeared, he scooped up the package on the table and handed it to her. “For you.”
It was her turn to be shocked. A dozen deep red roses nestled inside the tissue. She leaned in, closed her eyes and took a long breath of the fragrant bouquet.
“Thank you, Camdon. They’re absolutely gorgeous.” She reached up and kissed him on the cheek. Her palm lingered on his jaw, reluctant to pull away.
And here she was, once more sliding down the wrong side of friendship. She dropped her hand and turned around, embarrassment heating her cheeks. “I…I need to get my shoes.”
She looked over her shoulder.
Crinkles fanned out from his scrunched cheeks. Amusement glimmered from his eyes. “Take your time. I’ll be here.”
Those few words curled into the deepest part of her soul and took up residence. Smooth and comforting as a bowl of Wilma’s chicken soup when she didn’t feel well. Gasping, she turned and raced down the hall toward the refuge of her bedroom, her grip tight around the roses.
She glanced at them. A brilliant hue of red. Wasn’t that supposed to be a symbol of forever love? Her chest squeezed.
If Camdon kept doing sweet things like this, how would her heart ever survive?
****
“Tell me about this Wyatt.” Camdon gripped Violet’s hands loosely as they whirled around the dance floor.
“Oh, Camdon, he’s just so hot.”
“Hot, huh?”
“Yeeees.” Violet stretched the one word out into three.
“Come on now.” He lifted an eyebrow and purposely filled his tone with sarcasm. “‘Hot’ is all you can find to say about the guy?”
She gave his arm a playful swat. “No. Actually, he’s totally rad.”
“Hmm. I’m kinda old, and you’re not talking my language. You might have to explain that one.”
She giggled and rolled her eyes. “You’re not old.” Then, a wicked grin lit her face. “Too old for me, but not for my mom.”
So Violet didn’t appear to have a problem with him seeing Sierra. Was it just Sierra who couldn’t see how right they were for each other?
He grinned, and spun her around in the opposite direction, altering their course so he could get see Sierra better. She was standing on the fringe of the dance floor, chatting with a couple rec center employees. “Thank you for that. But don’t think that lets you off the hook, young lady. Explain.”
“Well…” Violet lifted her face toward the ceiling. Her eyes took on this dreamy look as a huge sigh lifted her chest. “He’s cute and fun to be with. He makes me laugh. He holds my hand—”
“That better be all he holds.”
“Camdon!”
“Just saying.”
“I’m not sure what a father acts or sounds like, but I would imagine that’s it right there.” Her softly spoken words, full of longing and a lifetime of wishes, reached deep down inside and ignited the dreams in his own heart.
“I’m sorry that your biological father didn’t live up to his responsibilities, Violet. He doesn’t know the incredible experience he’s missing.”
“Yeah.” Her tone implied that she didn’t believe him.
“Hey.” He nudged her chin until her huge expressive eyes, so much like Sierra’s, stared up at him. “I bounced you around on my lap when you were in diapers, and over the years, I’ve watched you blossom into a most beautiful young lady, just like your mother. I’ve spent most of those years wishing—”
She angled her head the same way Sierra did, hanging on to his every word.
Wishing he was her daddy in every sense of the word. A huge glob of emotion lodged in his throat, but he wanted to share how special she was to him, how much he’d enjoyed watching her grow up, so he forced it down, leaving the rest of the sentence unsaid. “Maybe one day your dad will grow up and realize the treasure he walked away from. But, trust me, sweetheart. He’s the one who missed out on so much. I would be thrilled, and honored, if you were my daughter.”
She gasped and was actually silent for more than a few seconds.
“What? For once you’re out of words?” he teased.
“Never! Just thinking through this logically.”
He spun her around the dance floor to the upbeat music, waiting for her brain to catch up.
“If I were your daughter, then that would mean that my mom…” Her eyes widened, and her mouth gaped.
He arched his eyebrows, waiting for her interpretation.
“Does this mean what I think it does?” Awe glazed her tone and her eyes.
“Let’s not get ahead of ourselves here. Your mother has this rule—”
“Oh yeah. Her no dating policy.” Violet’s face darkened. “But rules are meant to be broken, right?”
“Well, not exactly. If everybody believed that—”
Her hand fluttered in the air. “Yes, yes, I know. But still. You love her, right?”
He sighed. “More than life itself.”
“Far out!” She squealed, her face lighting up with a sweet and sassy smile. “So you might have a little more work cut out with my mom, but she’s worth it, right?”
“You both are. Why do you think I’m still in the picture?”
“Good point.” She nodded, turning serious and thoughtful. “Proceed with caution, though. Her bark is worse than her bite.”
As if he needed the warning. He chuckled.
“And if she feels threatened…” She wagged her head. “So you admit that you’d like to marry my mother?”
The little minx. He never should have said anything. Camdon smiled down at the inquisitive face. “That’s a private conversation for me and your mother. But just for the record, you wouldn’t be opposed to the idea?”
“Opposed? Not a chance. I think we should put our heads together and come up with a strategy.”
The music faded, and the disc jockey announced a short break.
He shook his head, bringing them to a stop on the dance floor, his gaze skimming to settl
e on Sierra. “No games, Violet. Your mother and you,” he slid his gaze back to the precious girl in his arms, “deserve more than that. You deserve love and stability.”
Which was basically all he had to offer.
****
“Thanks for a wonderful time, Camdon. I’m off to call Wyatt. Later, Gator!” Violet waved her hand in the air behind her as she hustled into the house.
A lamp glowed from the family room, soft and welcoming. Wilma must not be home from her date with Monty yet or the kitchen light would also be on.
Not much longer and Violet would be immersed in dating and friends and college applications. What if Wilma married Monty and then Violet went away to college? What then?
Loneliness engulfed Sierra as she turned around to face Camdon.
He must have caught the look. “Hey. It’ll be all right.”
She nodded, forcing a weak smile to her lips. “Yeah. I know. How about some coconut cream pie and coffee?”
“You know I’d never turn down pie.” He smiled, but his face held more than a hint of seriousness. “Or the opportunity to spend more time with you.”
He held the door open for her and she gulped as she squeezed by, his signature scent drawing her in, tighter and closer, until she no longer wanted to let go. She was barely treading water. He’d already stripped the defenses surrounding her heart with the sweet way he’d divided his time between her and her daughter tonight, the respect he’d shown Violet, his gentle words and manner confirming that he’d never hurt either of them. Not like all the other guys in her life.
Ditching her sweater over the back of the chair, she slipped out of the high-heeled sandals. “Make yourself at home.”
She left him hanging his suit jacket on the coat rack and tugging at his tie while she padded barefoot into the kitchen. She filled the coffee decanter with water and scooped some coffee grounds into a filter, the rich aroma permeating the room. There. That was better. She could breathe in something besides woods and nature, basil and mint, Camdon and his promises of forever love.
She knew the moment he entered the kitchen. The atmosphere shifted, became electrically charged. She glanced over a shoulder, caught her breath at the image.