by Andre, Bella
When Emily had opened her mouth to argue, Andie swiftly defused the situation. She'd kept up a subtle diversionary tactic, asking Em about the softball game the day before, about her Lazy Jake friends and the classes that would be starting the next day.
It hadn't taken long for Em to begin to thaw. By the time they reached the outskirts of Whiskey Creek, she had forgotten most of her pique.
She'd even laughed at a story Andie told about taking her goat to the preschool one day and all the children's efforts to keep Mr. Whiskers from eating the carpet. The sound of her own laughter seemed to take Emily aback though, and she'd quickly withdrawn to her headphones and the teen magazine she'd picked up in Whiskey Creek.
His daughter was reading teen magazines. When had that happened? Seemed like only yesterday she was just the size of Beth's new little one.
He didn't have time to brood about it, though, because the farm and rangeland were giving way to the expensive homes on the outskirts of Jackson, and the traffic around them was picking up.
"It's about time!" a radiant Beth groused when they walked into the hospital room a short time later. "What took you guys so long?"
For an instant, Will pictured tangled sheets and sweet oblivion. Something of his thoughts must have shown on his face, because when he glanced behind him at Andie, she blushed crimson and took great interest in a picture hanging on the wall.
He couldn't suppress a slow, pleased grin. "Good to see you, too, brat," he teased, suddenly feeling better about life than he had in a long time. "Where's the new little rugrat?"
She took mock offense, even as she studied him closely, as if he'd just sprouted a pair of horns. "His name is Dustin Jace Walker. And he's beautiful."
"I hope he's cuter than you were at his age. I never saw an uglier runt in my life than you the day the folks brought you home from the hospital. Red and scrunched up and ornery all the time."
"I grew out of it. Too bad you never did," she retorted, but her eyes filled with moisture as she looked at him.
What was the matter? he wondered. Hadn't she ever seen him smile and joke before? Had he been so wrapped up in his own problems that he hadn't taken the time to tease his little sister? He cleared his throat and kissed the top of her head. "I'm proud of you, sis."
"Thanks. Same goes," she whispered, then glanced at Emily and Andie waiting in the doorway. "Hi, you two. What'd you bring me?"
Her blush fading to a delightful pink tinge, Andie laughed and walked to the bed. "No kid, no presents. Cough him over, hon."
"You'll have to wait a minute. Sorry. Jace took him to the nursery for a diaper change. We could have done it here, but all the nurses like to make a fuss over him."
"Jace or the baby?" Andie asked.
"Both, I think." Beth grinned. "There's something about a big, rough cowboy holding his baby that just tugs at a woman's heart."
She gestured to Emily. "Hi there. You have any hugs for your old aunt Beth?"
Emily looked torn, her sweep of brown hair dipping into her eyes, then she solemnly, quickly, hugged her aunt. She stepped away just as Jace came in carrying the baby.
"Okay, pal," Will said, only half-joking. "What's to stop me from beating the hell out of you right now for going off into the hills and leaving my pregnant sister alone all day yesterday?"
His brother-in-law winced but held up the baby, bundled in a receiving blanket. "You wouldn't slug a guy holding a brand-new baby, would you, Tanner?"
Will frowned. "Give him back to his mother, and you and I can just take a walk out into the parking lot. I might forgive you after I've bashed your face into a few cars."
Jace—one of the few men in the world Will could truly call his friend—just laughed and clapped him on the shoulder. "Wouldn't be a fair fight. You're a half-head bigger than me and a hundred times meaner."
"Yeah, but you're uglier. I'd say that just about makes us even."
"Okay, you two. Break it up." Andie stepped forward. "Jace, you've had him long enough. Let me see this little sweetheart."
All his big-brother posturing pushed aside, Will watched Andie take the child. His chest tightened as he saw the gentle way she held the baby and the smile that even reached her eyes, washing away the lingering shadows in their jade depths.
"Hi there," she whispered, and rubbed her cheek against the baby. "Oh, you are a handsome one. Beth, he's perfect. Didn't I tell you he'd be worth all the pain you went through?"
"Ha. Pain? What pain?"
Andie smiled. "They must have you on some heavy-duty drugs." She cuddled the baby for several more minutes, then turned to Emily. "How'd you like to hold your new cousin?"
Emily, perched on one of the two chairs in the room, looked at the child with a mixture of trepidation and intrigue on her face, then she shrugged and held out her arms.
"He's tiny," she whispered after Andie gingerly handed her the bundled-up baby. She pulled the blanket aside and stroked a miniature foot, then put her finger against his curled-up hand. He instinctively gripped it, and Emily flashed a quick, wide smile. "Look at that! He's holding my hand."
She looked so much like her mother, Will thought. Same grin. Same little turned-up nose. He felt around for the familiar crushing guilt that usually accompanied the thought of Sarah, but today all he could find was a dull ache. He didn't have time to dwell on the reasons why that might be, because Emily was handing his new nephew to him.
Almost as soon as he took the fragile weight in his arms, the baby closed his milky blue eyes and fell asleep.
Jace grinned. "Beth, looks like we found a handy baby-sitter."
Will smiled wryly and laid the baby back in his bassinet. "Not anytime soon, pal. Maybe in about sixteen or seventeen years. Who knows, I might even have decided to forgive you by then for putting me through yesterday."
"Guys," Andie interjected, again the peacemaker, "I think we better let Beth open some of these presents before she breaks her neck trying to see what's inside."
"Good idea." Beth grinned and reached for the top one. It didn't take her long to open the gifts, first the tiny sailor suit they had picked out from the little store in Whiskey Creek before they picked up Emily from Carly’s, then a new robe and some fancy bottles of lotions from Andie.
Beth held up the last gift. "One more, Jace. Do you want to open it?"
"I wouldn't want to spoil your fun, sweetheart," he drawled.
Beth made a face at her husband but enthusiastically ripped open the package. From his angle, Will couldn't see what was in it, but he watched his sister's features soften. She pulled the gift reverently from the wrappings, and Will felt a shock of recognition go through him. The baby blanket. Andie had given it to Beth after all.
He shot a quick, searching glance at her, sitting in the chair next to him. She was biting her bottom lip, concentrating on the walls, the floor, on anything but the blanket. He could feel her pain tugging at him, as taut and strong as a lariat between them. Spurred only by the need to comfort her, he reached a hand out and rested it on the fist she had tightly clenched on her thigh. She managed a wobbly smile, turning her hand over and squeezing his fingers so rightly it nearly hurt.
"It's gorgeous!" Beth held it up so Jace could see. "Look at those colors! Did you make it yourself, Andie?"
"A long time ago," she answered quietly.
Beth glanced up, then stared at their joined hands. Her expression grew thoughtful as she looked first at him, then at Andie. He could practically see the wheels spinning in her head, but she said nothing, just watched them carefully for the rest of the hour they visited.
They would have talked longer, but right in the middle of the conversation, Beth yawned. Will immediately stood up.
"Ladies, it looks like we'd better let the new mama get some rest," he said.
"Just one more look," Andie said. She leaned over the sleeping baby and traced the back of her fingers down his cheek. "You be good for your mama now," she ordered, then followed Emily out the door.
The hard blue of the September Wyoming sky assaulted them as they walked through the automatic doors of the hospital. Emily walked several paces ahead of him and Andie, as if she didn't want to be seen with them.
Definitely no progress today, he thought.
In the old days he and Emily used to have a Sunday afternoon tradition, he remembered. It was their special time together, just the two of them, usually the only chance he had during his hectic schedule to be with her. They would leave Sarah at home and he would take Emily on some outing, to a baseball game or the zoo or just for a bike ride around the neighborhood. Wherever their mood carried them. He had treasured those times as much as she had, had relished the rare opportunity to be with her, since his job usually kept him so occupied.
How many Sundays had gone by since he'd broken the tradition? A dozen? A hundred?
Three years worth, he realized. Guilt and regret washed through him at the thought of how much he'd missed. He'd stood by and done nothing while his daughter slipped away from him, inch by inch. And he wanted her back, dammit. With a fierce ache, he wanted to return to the days when she looked at him as if she thought he could do anything in the world.
Starting now. He stopped walking so abruptly, Andie stopped with him.
"What's the matter?" she asked.
"Do you have anywhere you need to he?"
She shook her head. "I planned to do a little gardening, but it can wait until tomorrow. Why? What did you have in mind?"
He watched his daughter, who by now had reached the Jeep and was leaning against it, her arms crossed, her expression impatient. Andie followed his gaze to the girl, wondering what she could do to break through Emily's hard shell. His daughter obviously didn't like her. Andie didn't know why that should hurt so much, but it did.
"I was just thinking," Will said, "that I wouldn't mind showing Emily around Jackson a little. I don't think she's ever been in town and I'd hate for her to miss seeing a real live Wild West tourist trap."
Andie laughed as they reached his Jeep. "Sounds fun. What do you think, Emily?"
"About what?"
"Your dad thought you might like to spend some time here in Jackson Hole. Feel like a little shopping?"
"My dad hates shopping."
"All men do," Andie confided. "Isn't that just about the saddest thing you've ever heard? Can you imagine hating shopping?"
Emily relaxed and even uttered a little giggle. Andie smiled back and threw a conspiratorial arm around her shoulders. "What do you say we make your dad miserable all day long and take him to every single store in town?"
He groaned, which set Emily giggling all the more. "Cool. Especially clothes stores. He really hates those."
"You bet," Andie promised. "Believe me, Jackson has tons of clothes stores."
And maybe a few hours of shopping, she mused, would be just what she needed to take her mind off of the residue of pain in her heart.
***
"How's she doing back there?"
Andie glanced in the backseat, where Emily was curled up in the corner using her wadded-up jacket for a pillow. Her hair was in her eyes, and Andie battled a powerful urge to reach back and brush it away.
"Asleep. Didn't take her long, did it?"
"It never does." Will flashed a smile and reached for her hand. At the feel of his strong fingers against hers, their first real contact since the hospital, Andie leaned her head back and closed her eyes, contentment washing through her. She couldn't imagine one single thing more wonderful than this, heading home through the dark with Will beside her while a soft jazz melody eased out of the speakers.
"You ought to get some rest too," he said, his voice just a low murmur.
She shook her head. She didn't want it to end yet. The day had been too precious, a revelation, and she wanted to treasure every single moment of it.
They hadn't made it to every store in town. Just most of them. While they walked up and down the wooden boardwalks of the tourist town, she had discovered a completely different side of Will. Gone was the gruff demeanor that usually encased him. In its place was a man who obligingly followed her and Emily from shop to shop, teasing and joking and even laughing aloud with growing frequency as the day wore on.
She also discovered the seductive joy in being part of a family, even if she had to keep reminding herself it was only for a little while.
She had snapped pictures with her phone throughout the day, but even without the tangible images she knew her own snapshots of their time together would be imprinted in her mind forever: Will, red-faced, gulping a big glass of water after scooping a tortilla chip into the extra-hot salsa at the outdoor Mexican cafe they'd stopped at. Father and daughter looking up in awe at the famous arch of entwined elk antlers in the town square.
She and Emily thrusting their faces through a wooden cutout of saloon girls and laughing uproariously as Will spent five minutes trying to figure out how the camera on her phone worked.
They mostly window-shopped, but Andie and Emily both picked out the same pair of earrings, burnished brass cowboys atop bucking broncs. She found a pasta cookbook she'd been looking for, and Will gave in and peeled out his wallet when Emily fell in love with a stuffed grizzly bear.
He was so good-natured about the whole day that Andie rewarded him with a T-shirt sporting a goofy-looking moose decked out in fancy red sunglasses that she'd bought in one store when he wasn't looking. He seemed ridiculously pleased with it and promised to wear it as soon as possible.
She smiled at the memory, a smile that ended in a wide yawn. Will must have seen it because he squeezed her fingers.
"Get some rest," he repeated.
She fought it for a few more minutes, but the steady movement of the vehicle through the night relaxed her, and a sweet lassitude spread from her shoulders to her toes. Her last thought before falling asleep was that underneath his gruff facade, Will Tanner was actually a nice man.
The motion of the Jeep had stopped when she finally slipped out of sleep. The engine still purred, but they were no longer moving.
Disoriented, she shook her head to clear it and realized her cheek was pressed against his shoulder, his arm cradling her next to his bard warmth. His cotton shirt was soft against her skin, and the smell of him—cedary and male—filled her senses.
She closed her eyes again, loath to leave the refuge of his arms, but she forced herself to pull away.
"Sorry," she murmured.
He smiled. "I enjoyed it," he said. "You don't even talk in your sleep. Much."
She glanced out the window and saw the familiar shape of the Limber Pine ranch house. For the first time that she could recall, she didn't feel the usual burst of relief at being home, the welcoming sense of peace she experienced just pulling into the driveway. All that waited for her here was an empty bed, with sheets that probably still carried the scent of him.
"I'll walk you to your door," he said.
"You don't have to."
"Never let it be said that Annabel Tanner's son didn't learn the proper way to end an evening with his lady companion."
"Dear me, no!" she said, smiling.
He opened her door for her, and they walked quietly across the driveway and up the steps to her back door.
"Thank you, Will," she said softly, one hand on the doorknob. "For letting me spend the day with you and Em. I enjoyed it."
"You were very good with her."
"She's a sweet girl."
He snorted. "Right."
"She is," Andie insisted. "She's just afraid right now, and I don't think she knows how to express that fear."
"Of what? What does art eleven-year-old girl have to be afraid of?"
She paused. Stay out of it. It's not your business, a warning voice told her. But the instinct to help him, to at least take some steps to heal the gulf between father and daughter, was much stronger.
"Of being alone," she finally said. "Of you leaving her."
"That's crazy!" he s
napped. "She knows I'd never go anywhere without her."
"Will, she's a little girl who lost her mother in a terrible way. Just when she was probably coming to terms with that, you had to go and nearly get yourself killed. How is she supposed to feel? I sense a lot of anger in her, and I think she's trying so hard to grow-up fast—to be independent—so she can show you she doesn't need you."
He opened his mouth as if to argue with her, then blew out a breath in a huff. "You know, it makes a strange sort of sense. She started acting up right around the time I was shot."
"And she probably started pulling away from you then too."
He nodded. "So how do I convince her I'm not going to leave?"
"Just do what you did today. Spend time with her. Don't shut her out of your life. She strikes me as a pretty smart girl, and I think if you sat down with her and talked out what you've both been going through, you might be able to make some progress at working past it."
"Talk to her. Why didn't I think of that?" He grinned. "You know, it just might work."
"Try it."
"How'd you get to be so smart?"
She simply didn't possess the strength to resist that smile, the one that made him look so much younger, that softened the harsh planes of his face. "Years and years of practice," she replied, and smiled back when he reached for her and drew her against his body.
Still smiling, she settled there as if she belonged nowhere else, as if she had been made to be molded against him, and lifted her face willingly for his kiss. A sigh whispered out of her, and she closed her eyes just as he touched his lips to hers.
He tasted like chocolate, she thought, probably from the ice-cream cones they'd shared just before leaving Jackson. Sweet, rich chocolate. She tasted it on her tongue, on her lips, and knew she'd never be able to eat ice cream again without thinking of this moment.
Everything suddenly seemed so intense to her: The wind carrying the scent of pine and flowers had never smelled so sweet. The barn owl's call had never sounded so appealing. His hair between her fingertips had never felt so silky.
He licked at the corner of her lips, and she opened for him as the heady taste of chocolate grew stronger. She dipped her tongue into his mouth for a better taste, and he groaned and pulled her closer still. Yes, she could definitely stay here forever, right here in his arms—.