The Reluctant Daddy

by Helen Conrad

  But he never got to find out what she was going to do with that refill, because at that moment, she turned just far enough to catch sight of him out of the corner of her eye, and she spun, screamed and completely lost her balance, tumbling off the counter, dust mop flying into the air.

  Luckily, Lee was fast on his feet, and he caught her before she hit the ground, swinging her up in his arms and holding her steadily.

  She stared up at him, stunned and seemingly paralyzed. She couldn’t move. She wasn’t hurt, but she was certainly embarrassed.

  He smiled down at her. “Hi,” he said. “Nice decibels.”

  She jerked away from him, landing on her feet. “The singing or the scream?” she asked tartly. But she couldn’t face him, instead turning away to fumble with the radio, trying three times before she made the right move and got the music turned off.

  “Both.” His amusement with the entire situation was clear in his voice.

  Fighting for equilibrium, she busied herself picking up the dust mop from the floor and placing it carefully on the far counter.

  “People usually knock before coming in,” she noted evenly. “It’s an old Tyler custom.”

  “I did knock. I knocked and I rang the bell, and when that didn’t work, I came on in.”

  She wiped her hands on her jeans. “I guess that’s the way it is with officials like you,” she said acidly. “If things don’t fall your way, you push them.”

  His chuckle was rough and low in his throat. “I didn’t have to push very hard. The door was ajar.”

  “Oh.” She remembered that her sister-in-law had come by to pick up the kids earlier. Pam often took them on outings, testing herself, trying to see if she could handle children, and today, though she was still coaching and teaching at the high school, she had the day off. The school administration was having a teachers’ in-service day and the students had the day free. Pam, on half time now that her busiest time of year, the fall football season, was over, had booked off, too.

  Pam had coached the Tyler Titans to another district championship, and now, at her husband’s insistence, was taking a bit of a rest. Her MS had been in remission for a long time now, and they wanted to keep it that way. Plus they were thinking of adopting a baby, and both realized the importance of establishing healthy priorities when faced with such a challenging, though joyful, decision.

  More than ever concerned about how the stress of having a child around would affect her condition, Pam had come by that morning to take Jimmy and Megan to see the decorations at Gates Department Store, then to Worthington House for a quick visit to their great-grandmother. Glenna hadn’t followed them to the door. One of the children must have left it open.

  “I guess when the others left, they...”

  Her voice trailed off. Now she’d done it—let him know she was all alone, that there was no one else home. Why that was making her breath come a little faster she wasn’t sure, but it was, and she wished he would just go.

  “Are you looking for my father?” she asked, turning sharply and picking up a dishrag. “He’s not here right now. And I am rather busy.”

  He watched her, noting her discomfort and finding it amusing—and even sort of endearing. It wasn’t often you could catch such an attractive woman being herself with absolutely no artifice in sight, and he’d liked what he’d seen when he first arrived. It was too bad there was no way to tell her that without putting her back up even more than it was already. So he gave up on the effort and responded to her statement instead, watching carefully for her reaction to his question. “Why would I be looking for your father?”

  She turned in surprise and let her gaze barely graze his before walking past him toward the sink and turning on the faucet to wash out the dishrag.

  “Why wouldn’t you? He’s Johnny Kelsey. He’s the foreman at the F and M, and he’s on the town council.”

  “Yes, I know.”

  Finally she turned and met his eyes, her own defiant, as though she were saying, Okay, I know you saw me singing and dancing and acting like an idiot. But I won’t allow that to define how we interact. I’ve got my dignity, and you darn well better not forget it.

  Lifting her chin, she said aloud, “I just assumed he would be someone you would need to talk to while you’re investigating or—” she waved a hand in the air “—or whatever it is you do.”

  He nodded, enjoying the silent messages as much as the audible ones. “I have a long, long list, believe me. I haven’t gotten to him yet.” He smiled at her, leaning back against the counter, starting to feel at ease. “Right now I want to talk to you.”

  And that was exactly what she didn’t want, she realized, letting her gaze flicker over him. The things her father had said the night before, the doubts his words had raised, were still confusing her. She had to get them sorted out in her own mind before she could discuss them. Or defend him.

  She winced involuntarily. Now why had she let herself think he needed defending?

  Her heart sank but at the same time, anger stirred in her chest. Lee Nielsen hadn’t stopped by casually to see if she had anything to tell him. He had a plan and an agenda. He thought he could come over here and smile at the shy little hayseed a few times and get her to spill her guts the way he’d charmed the librarian. Glenna’s jaw tightened.

  Think again, mister.

  She forced herself to look him in the eyes. “Why don’t you go back and talk to Miss Grassley?” she suggested pointedly. “She seems to have a lot to say.”

  He searched her blue eyes, wondering just how much she’d heard at the library the day before. A lot, from the looks of it. And she hadn’t liked it much.

  “I think I’ve been pretty much filled in on her point of view,” he said quietly. “What I’d like to hear is yours.”

  She stared at him. This was what she’d been afraid of. She didn’t want to share her ideas, her suspicions, her fears with him. In fact, she had no intention of giving him the truth about any of those things. They were personal, family matters and none of his business. But he wanted her opinions. What was she going to give him instead? “My point of view?” she repeated, stalling. “Why would I have a point of view?”

  “Because you’re a Kelsey.”

  He paused, watching her reaction with his sharp, knowing gaze, and she realized suddenly how dangerous he really was. She was going to have to be very careful. Though she knew, was absolutely sure, that she and her loved ones had nothing to do with the fire, she was going to have to watch every word. As Liza had warned her, he was a coiled snake. And snakes had been known to strike without warning.

  “The way I heard it,” he was saying, “your family has been here for generations.” He shrugged. “I figure you might have an overview of the situation that would be highly relevant.”

  She surveyed him critically, noting that he needed a haircut, that the blue in his sweater brought out the vibrant blue of his eyes and that there was something about the long, strong look of his hands that made her shiver.

  Steeling herself against reactions like that, she decided he looked much too comfortable leaning against the counter of her kitchen, much too sure of himself. She was beginning to find her sea legs in this stormy ocean of a conversation and she looked at him sharply, her eyes bright with challenge. The best defense, she’d always heard her father say, was a good offense.

  “Are you trying to flatter me?” she asked him evenly. “Are you trying to worm your way into my good graces so I’ll tell you all the grisly little secrets our small town is hiding in our collective closets?”

  His eyebrows rose and something seemed to glitter in the depths of his eyes. “Grisly secrets? I should be so lucky.” His smile didn’t quite reach his eyes. “But I’m willing to listen if you have a tale to tell.”

  Her lips tightened. “Sorry. There are none. So
I guess you might as well—”

  “All I’m asking for is background,” he said, interrupting her. “Just tell me something about the mood of this town, the way people treat each other.”

  She glared at him, exasperated. “They treat each other fine. And if they didn’t, I wouldn’t tell you. You can pry all you want, but you won’t get me to snitch on my neighbors, even if there was anything to tell.”

  Lee shifted his weight and narrowed his eyes, watching her. He’d played this wrong, put himself in an awkward position. She didn’t want to play games and was guarding against them. Okay. If he had to deal straight on this, that was exactly what he would do.

  “Tell me this, Glenna,” he said, using her name deliberately. “From what I hear around town, there seems to be a long-term rivalry between the Ingallses and the Kelseys. Both families go way back to the beginning together, and I understand there have been a few disagreements over the years, a few resentments that may linger. They might almost be called rival families.”

  He was watching her closely to judge her reaction to his words. “Just the facts, ma’am,” he drawled quietly. “Is that the way you see it?”

  This was the sort of thing she’d wanted to avoid, and she knew she had to be very careful not to let anything she told him bring suspicion on anyone. “No, that’s not the way I see it,” she said at last. “We may seem to be living out in the sticks, compared to you sophisticated folks from the city, but we have gone beyond the Hatfields-and-McCoys stage. We don’t keep our rifles ready at the windows and have signals for when the Ingallses are coming down our block.”

  He nodded, as though filing that away for future reference. “Tell me about Jackie Kelsey,” he said quietly.

  She didn’t want to. “He was just a bit before my time.”

  “I know that.” He moved restlessly. “Tell me what you’ve heard.”

  She gave up on that point, deciding it was easier to go ahead and tell him than to fight it any longer. “Jackie Kelsey. Okay. My father has an old portrait of him when he was a young man. He was what they called ‘Black Irish’ in those days.”

  The past came surging in as soon as she started to talk about it and her reluctance was forgotten. Glenna shook her head, smiling as her thoughts flew back to the stories her grandparents had told her, those times she’d never really known. “He was as handsome as they come, they say, with that devil-may-care attitude some Irishmen are known for. He came to America to find his fortune, and to him, riches weren’t to be found at the end of a plow. He wanted more, and he lit out for the California gold fields, went to ‘see the elephant’ as they said in those days.”

  She went on quickly, recounting essentially the same story Miss Grassley had told, only with a kinder slant to it. But there was no denying the competitive edge that existed between the two families, and when she was done, Lee noted again, “So there is a rivalry?”

  She sighed impatiently. Wouldn’t he love to think so? Then he could start investigating whether her father had torched the plant in order to get back at what the Ingallses had done to Jackie Kelsey in the dark ages. What a silly theory that would be. No, she had to nip this rivalry rumor in the bud.

  “A rivalry?” she repeated, laughing shortly. “Not so you’d notice. That was a hundred years ago, Lee. My father has worked for the F and M for years, and so did my grandfather. My mom and Alyssa Wocheck, Judson’s daughter, have been best friends forever. I’d hardly call that rivalry.”

  Lee nodded, his eyes hooded so that she couldn’t for the life of her read what he was thinking. “Tell me about Judson Ingalls. Does he always go away at this time of year?”

  She thought for a moment. She wasn’t certain she’d made her point strongly enough, but she supposed it might be better to let it go right now. “Judson? I’m not sure. Yes, I think he went to Arizona in December last year, too. And the year before. Though he’s usually back for the party.”

  “The party?”

  “The Ingallses hold a Christmas party out at the lake every year.”

  “Do you know Michael Kenton?” Lee asked without skipping a beat.

  She blinked, thrown by his sudden change of direction. “Uh, yes. I’ve met him.” She thought rumors had been circulating about Michael the day before at TylerTots, but she hadn’t paid much attention.

  “Do you know of any reason he might have to resent Judson Ingalls?”

  “No. I don’t know him that well. In fact, he only came to town about a month ago. He probably doesn’t even know Judson.” Her eyes filled with annoyance. “Hey, I thought we were going in the other direction. Are you trying to sandbag me?”

  His slow grin looked almost like a leer to her. “You are so suspicious. Why do you see hidden motives in everything I ask?”

  She held his gaze and didn’t waver. “Because they’re there, aren’t they?”

  His eyes were smiling. “Maybe.”

  Her triumphant gaze met his laughing one, and before she knew what she was doing, she was laughing herself.

  But she stifled it quickly. That wouldn’t do. She wasn’t going to let him charm her. She picked up the dishrag and began wiping down the island counter, rubbing furiously. “Well, if that’s all, Mr. Nielsen,” she said as she worked, “I have things to do.”

  “That’s hardly all, Ms. Kelsey,” he returned. “But you’re not being very cooperative.”

  “Because I won’t rat on my friends?” she retorted, looking up. “And it’s McRoberts, not Kelsey.”

  “Oh.” Despite himself, he had a twinge of regret at the news. “Then you’re married?”

  She hesitated, but after all, honesty was usually the best policy, and she didn’t see any real reason to hide the truth. “No,” she said shortly. “Divorced.”

  He turned fully toward her, and his gaze seemed to sweep her into a special circle encompassing the two of them. “Join the club,” he said softly, and meeting his gaze, she saw the rest.

  I’ve been there, his eyes said. I know the pain that melts into heartbreak, beating inside you like a second pulse. I know the desperate hopes that start to fray at the edges, until they flake into pieces that blow in the wind. I know what you’ve been through. We’re both survivors.

  “Yes,” she whispered, and then, suddenly, she realized with a start that she was standing much too close, almost touching him, as though she’d been drawn there by the force of his presence. She backed away quickly, trying to catch her breath.

  “Hey,” he said, clasping hold of her hand. “It’s okay.”

  She shook her head, her eyes as fierce as she could make them. “No, it’s not,” she said quite clearly. Pulling out of his grasp, she straightened her shoulders and took a deep breath. “Listen, you came to ask certain questions. If you’re finished...”

  He was shaking his head. “No,” he said quietly. “I’m not finished.” But he leaned back against the counter and smiled at her with those bold eyes. “I’ve hardly even begun.”

  CHAPTER FIVE

  LEE NIELSEN HAD WALKED into Glenna’s life the day before and rattled her, made her stop and turn around and look at things the way no other man had ever done. Now he was standing in the middle of her kitchen, and it was even worse. She was finding herself attracted in ways she didn’t want to be, deeply disturbing ways she had thought she would never feel again.

  She caught herself and tightened her jaw. This was no good. She couldn’t let him get to her, no matter what. If he wouldn’t leave, she would have to make him. At the very least, she should stop letting him dominate her day this way.

  Turning, she began searching the room for something else to take up her attention. She’d had a whole list of chores in mind when she’d started out that morning. Her gaze fell on the cardboard box of light bulbs she’d gotten out, intending to replace the burned-out ones along the l
ighting track when she was up dusting the high shelf that paralleled them. Okay, that would do. Now if only he would leave and let her get on with it.

  But he wasn’t about to do that. He followed her line of vision, and when she reached for the box, he groaned, quickly reading her intentions.

  “You’re not climbing back up there,” he told her firmly. “You have too great a propensity to try out your wings.” He held out his hand for the box of bulbs. “Here. Get me a ladder and I’ll do it.”

  She tightened her grip on the box, hugging it to her chest. “There’s no need for that,” she said quickly. “I can handle this.”

  He smiled at her, his eyes full of a knowledge she didn’t think he had a right to have. “I know that,” he said patiently. “Get me a ladder, and I’ll do it for you.”

  Didn’t he understand? The whole point of beginning the project had been to get him to leave, not to give him another reason to stay. She looked at him balefully. “It’s nothing,” she said. “I’ve done it a thousand times.”

  He nodded and eyed the box she was holding as though it contained state secrets he wasn’t allowed to see. “The ladder?” he said, one eyebrow raised.

  “But I can—”

  Before she’d realized his intention, he had one finger pressed to her lips and was pulling the box from her hand.

  “I’ll do it,” he said simply.

  She stared into his eyes for a moment, then shrugged. If the man wanted to climb up there so badly, let him. Walking resolutely to the closet, she pulled out the step ladder and brought it back, setting it directly under the burned-out lights. He shrugged out of his leather jacket, tossing it on the counter, and then climbed up and went to work. Glenna stood below, leaning against the counter and watching him.

  She had to admit he was good to look at. His long, lean body moved with a slow, graceful strength that made her pull in her breath. She liked the way his shoulders filled out his sweater, the way the muscles in his thighs pressed against the fabric of his jeans, the way...