But she had to admit that wasn’t going to happen, and she didn’t much care anymore. She couldn’t imagine her mother watching her at ballet, planning the Mother’s Day picnic, showing her how to dress in a way that was a mixture of girl stuff and Dani, so that Dani felt both comfortable and pretty.
Kelly understood her better in a day than her real mom could understand her ever. Dani knew this, even though she couldn’t remember hardly anything about her mother at all.
Dani glanced at Kelly and discovered something else. She wanted a mom, and not just for a day, a week, even a month. She wanted one forever.
She wanted this one.
CHAPTER SEVEN
“O’ER THE LA-AND of the free. And the home of the brave.”
The crowd erupted into cheers as the last notes of “The Star Spangled Banner” faded on the crisp evening air.
Scott was impressed with the number of spectators. He’d been told that a large percentage of the town showed up for games, but he hadn’t really believed it. By his estimatation there had to be two hundred people in the stands. Considering the temperature hovered in the vicinity of forty degrees he wondered if everyone had lost their marbles.
Scott was scanning the bleachers when Kelly arrived with Dani. He lifted his hand, waving them over, but Dani tugged on Kelly’s arm, whispered something, and they went to sit behind home plate. It was then that he saw Dani wasn’t wearing the uniform he’d had made for her, or at least not all of it. Instead, she resembled a minicheerleader. He’d be concerned that she was going to freeze in that skirt, but she had on blue leggings and a turtleneck sweater that appeared pretty toasty.
“I’ll be right back.” He handed the roster to Vee and hurried over to Dani and Kelly. Leaning down, he tweaked his daughter’s nose. “You look great.”
“I do?” Her eyes widened.
“Always.”
She beamed and straightened her bracelet. The ever-changing rainbow of ribbons around her tiny wrists were starting to grow on him.
He turned to Kelly. “I didn’t mean for you to stay. Dani can sit behind the dugout.”
“I love baseball.”
“You do?”
Kelly laughed. “Don’t sound so shocked. We’ll have a great time. Won’t we, kidikins?” She turned to Dani, and the two of them shared a smile that somehow made Scott feel left out.
“Okay,” he said, backing up. “I’ll talk to you after the game.”
“Go, Warhawks!” the two of them shouted, and the entire crowd echoed the sentiment.
Scott had thought just seeing Kelly in his environment would force him to realize she was not meant for this town or for him. Unfortunately, it had the opposite effect.
Though she’d worn jeans today, she’d donned boots in deference to the cold. They were black, high-heeled, shiny things that drew the eye to the slim length of her calf. What was it about high heels that made a woman’s legs go on forever?
She’d also let her hair down so that it spilled around her shoulders in a fall of gold. Her blue sweater managed to be both bulky and clingy, the material soft and fleecy. He wanted to touch it, and then he wanted to touch her.
Gritting his teeth, Scott turned away.
Years of discipline allowed him to do his job each and every inning, but in between he was distracted by the sound of her voice. Instead of standing out like the outsider she was, Kelly talked with everyone; she laughed. She cheered on his team and she seemed to know every player’s name, which wasn’t as amazing as it sounded, considering the program in her hand.
Several other little girls arrived and ran straight to Dani, giggling and shrieking. What was it about little-girl shrieks? They seemed to have a decibel range all their own, one that made Scott want to howl like a tortured dog.
Just when he was about to make Vee put a stop to the noise, Kelly organized the throng into a pint-size cheerleading squad. She taught them several cheers, and within a few innings he found himself enjoying the rhythmic chants. Scott had to admit, they were damn cute and Dani, right in the middle of them, seemed happier than he could ever recall her being. He’d made the right move in coming here.
He’d believed that, but he’d also been uncertain. Had he made the decision based on his own needs and wants and not Dani’s? He’d been worried she wouldn’t fit in, that she’d be miserable. But they’d only been here a week, and she’d already made friends.
Of course she’d changed quite a bit in that week, and he wasn’t sure how he felt about that. She’d been his baseball buddy, his best pal. Now she was a little girl, heading far too fast toward young woman and making him realize how very little he knew about the species.
“Yer out!”
The umpire’s exclamation had everyone on the bench leaping up. Vee pumped Scott’s hand enthusiastically, then said, “What the hell?” and hugged him, too. All the little cheerleaders started shrieking again.
Scott had won his first game as a minor-league manager.
KELLY STARED at the dugout. The happiness and pride on Scott’s face made her chest go as tight as it had when she’d seen Dani’s expression after her first dance. She was getting too involved with the Delgados.
She needed to remember that she was only a rental. This wasn’t her family, and it never would be.
She’d made a mistake staying for the game, but she did like baseball. She’d also wanted to make sure that Dani was all right. Leaving her charge on the bench behind the dugout wasn’t responsible, even though she knew the child would be fine considering she had over two hundred babysitters. The people of Kiwanee had accepted the Delgados as if they’d lived here all their lives.
Most small towns were a little standoffish. However, Kiwanee depended on the income brought in by the Warhawks. Which meant they welcomed anyone associated with the team—players, managers, coaches, office staff—as if they were born-and-bred Kiwaneeans.
“Kelly!”
Dani threw her arms around Kelly’s waist and pressed her sweaty little head into Kelly’s chest, leaving a damp imprint on her sweater. Though she’d just vowed to pull back emotionally, Kelly found herself hugging the child, never wanting to let go.
“That was the best!”
“Glad you had fun.” Kelly forced herself to release the girl. “We’d better get you home.”
“Are you coming tomorrow?” Dani asked.
“Tomorrow’s Saturday. Your dad will be home.”
“So?”
“You won’t need me. I’ll be back on Monday.”
The weekend had come at an opportune time. The separation would do all of them good.
“Did everyone hear?” Kelly turned to the woman in the stands—Susan Something—with whom she’d shared chatter and cheers during the game. “There’s a snowstorm on the way.”
“How much?” Kelly asked.
“A foot by morning.” Susan lifted her face to the sky and inhaled. “Can’t you smell it?”
Kelly didn’t smell anything but trouble.
By the time she turned into the driveway, fat flakes were tumbling down.
“You’d better get dressed for bed,” she said, staring out the window with a frown.
“I don’t have to go to bed, do I? Can’t I wait for Dad? It’s Friday night.”
“I suppose that would be all right. Just get into your pajamas, and we’ll watch TV until he comes.”
Dani couldn’t have been upstairs ten minutes. When she came down, she joined Kelly at the window. “Holy cow!”
An inch of snow already covered the green grass and dusted the bright yellow daffodils shivering in front of the house across the street. The thought of driving to Madison, on a two-lane highway in this mess made Kelly shiver, too.
“Can I go out and play?” Dani asked.
“No.”
“Why not?”
Kelly could tell by the tone of Dani’s whine that she was over-tired. If she could get the child to sit down for five minutes, she’d fall asleep.
&n
bsp; “Your dad will want to take you out the first time. We’ll wait for him.”
Dani pouted, but only for a second. “Can we watch Beauty and the Beast?”
“You bet.”
The two of them curled together on the couch, tugging a blanket draped at one end over their legs. The next thing Kelly knew, she heard a bang in the distance, then felt a sudden chill. A shadow fell over them, and she pulled Dani closer.
But the shadow lifted the girl and took her away. Kelly reached out, but she was alone. She was always alone.
She awoke with a gasp. The movie was over; the screen had gone blue, and Dani was gone. Beyond the window the world was a swirl of white.
The stairs creaked. Scott appeared in the entryway to the living room.
“I put her in bed,” he said softly. “She didn’t even move.”
“Big day.” Kelly swung her legs onto the floor and stood. “I need to go.”
“You can’t.”
“It’s that bad?” she asked, though she knew it was.
“Took me twenty minutes to get home. You can stay in the guest room tonight.”
“Thanks.” Though being here with Scott in the dark made her nervous, the thought of driving through the storm, probably ending up in a ditch or worse, terrified her.
He went to the window and peered out. “Vee said they won’t plow until the storm’s gone through, probably sometime tomorrow. By evening the temps are supposed to be in the midfifties.” Scott turned away from the glass. “Dani’s never seen snow. Tomorrow will be fun for her.”
“For you, too.”
“I’ve seen snow, even made a few snowballs in my time.”
“In California?”
Scott shook his head. “When I was still pitching, we had spring games in Chicago, Milwaukee, even St. Louis, and sometimes we’d get caught in one of these freak storms. The team would go out and—” He stopped, then shrugged sheepishly.
“You played in the snow.”
“We didn’t have much else to do when we were stranded in a strange town. Plus, a lot of us were from warmer climates—if not the Southern states, then the Caribbean. We didn’t get too many chances to build a snow fort.”
The thought of Scott Delgado building a snow fort, or having a snowball fight with other major-league players in snowbound cities across the upper Midwest made her smile. The image was charming. Too charming.
“Have you had a chance to contact any nanny services?” she blurted.
“No.”
“Do you want me to?”
He moved closer. “You that anxious to leave us?”
Something in his voice made her pause. He sounded almost sad, but what did he have to be sad about? From the beginning she’d gotten the impression he didn’t really like her much at all.
“Rent a Mommy is only a temporary solution,” Kelly said. “You need permanent help.”
“Something permanent would be nice,” he murmured.
He was now so near she had to tilt her head to see his face.
“Dani and I haven’t had anything permanent in our lives except for each other in so long I’m not sure what permanent means anymore. Any nanny I hire won’t be permanent in the true sense of the word.”
“That’s true.”
Kelly experienced a twinge of unease at their isolation, along with an unexpected thrill of awareness as his body hovered inches from hers.
The blanket of snow just outside the window caused a silvery glow to filter in, casting his face in blue shadow. She could see the fine rasp of his beard, the glint of his dark gaze. She felt the heat of his skin, a contrast to the chill that frosted the air outside.
“I want Dani to feel safe and loved,” he said.
“She does.”
His head came up; their noses brushed. Kelly caught her breath as their eyes met, and something wild flared between them, something born of this storm, birthed in the isolation of this night.
She kissed him, or maybe he kissed her. She could never be sure. It didn’t really matter. She hadn’t been kissed in so long, her legs nearly gave out from the sheer pleasure of it.
His mouth was warm and soft. His big, rough hand cupped her head, tilting her so he could explore every corner with his tongue.
She should have stopped the embrace immediately, but she couldn’t. She would later realize the idea never even crossed her mind. All she’d thought was “yes,” all she’d wanted was more.
Tentatively she touched his tongue with hers, running her fingers through his hair, knocking his goofy Warhawks hat onto the floor.
She wasn’t sure how far things would have gone if the wind hadn’t battered the house, taking hold of the screen door and rattling it as if someone were coming inside.
They sprang apart like teenagers caught necking by their parents, then stood staring at each other wide-eyed as the snow tumbled down.
Kelly found her voice first. “Where the hell did that come from?”
“I don’t know.”
“I didn’t think you even liked me.”
“I didn’t think I did, either.”
“What happened then?”
“You,” he began, then stopped. “We…well, I—” He leaned down and snatched his hat off the floor, shoving it back on his head with a scowl. “Hell.”
“That about sums it up.”
“Can you stay another week?” Her eyebrows lifted at the sudden, out-of-place question. “I have to go to Nebraska. It would really help if you were here for Dani.”
And because she couldn’t say no to that, Kelly had to say, “Yes.”
CHAPTER EIGHT
MORNING DAWNED, and the snow still fell. Kiwanee had bypassed the predicted foot about half a foot ago.
Since he hadn’t fallen asleep for hours after he’d kissed the rental mommy, Scott slept late.
He’d always been somewhat disgusted by men who had affairs with their nannies. What kind of guy did that?
A desperate, pathetic one.
He had no excuse. He was desperate and pathetic, and he’d been unable to stop himself from touching her as they stood bathed in the eerie, white reflection of the snow.
Snow in April. He’d known it could happen. But last night the storm had seemed surreal, making everything that happened the same. Had he really kissed Kelly Rosholt?
Scott glanced down, unsurprised to find the quilt across his lap bowed like a pup tent.
Yep. He’d not only kissed her, but he’d wanted very badly to do more than that, had dreamed of it, along with the freckles across the bridge of her nose, the entire three hours that he’d managed to sleep. He couldn’t stop thinking about those freckles, her lips, the—
“Stupid,” he muttered. How was he going to face her this morning without remembering what he’d dreamed of doing to her last night?
“Dad!”
The door to his bedroom slammed open, and he flipped onto his stomach, biting back a curse as he landed on the center pole of his steadily deflating pup tent.
“Kelly’s making pancakes. She says get up. Time to build a snow fort.”
In spite of himself, Scott smiled. The idea of making a snow fort with his daughter—hell, with Kelly Rosholt—was too enticing to resist. He took in his daughter’s pajamas. “You’d better get dressed.”
“You, too.” Dani scampered from the room, thundering down the hallway with the grace of a wounded water buffalo.
“And she wants to be a ballerina,” he muttered as he turned on the shower.
Ten minutes later, he hesitated outside the kitchen door. The scent of coffee and pancakes, the sizzle of bacon made his mouth water. He could hear Dani chattering to Kelly about what kind of fort they were going to make. It sounded complicated. He took a deep breath and walked in.
His gaze went to Kelly’s. He waited for the narrowing of the eyes, the tightening of the lips, the cold shoulder. Instead, she smiled, and something in his stomach jittered. He couldn’t help but smile back.
&nbs
p; Kelly poured a cup of coffee and set it on the table, then picked up her own and sipped. She contemplated Scott over the rim.
“This looks great,” he managed. “Thanks.”
“Anytime.” Kelly sat at the table, and the three of them ate breakfast. There was no awkwardness. If Scott didn’t know better, he’d think he’d imagined the whole thing.
Dani finished and jumped up. “I’m going to get my boots.”
“Plate in the sink,” Kelly said.
“’Kay!” Seconds later thumps and thuds sounded from the hall.
“About last night,” Scott began.
“Forget it.”
Scott wasn’t sure he could. “But—”
“Let’s just have a nice day in the snow without worrying about anything else.”
Dani appeared in the doorway. “Come on! It’ll melt before you two are ready.”
Kelly laughed. “Okay. We’re coming.”
Quickly they cleaned the kitchen. Scott loaded the dishwasher; Kelly wiped the table, counter and stove. They worked together easily and well, as if they’d been doing it for years.
Kelly kept a winter coat, snow boots, gloves and a hat in her SUV. “You never know when you might need them,” she said when Scott lifted a brow.
Which made him incredibly nervous. What if he were driving somewhere with Dani and the car broke down? What if the temps went below zero, and they had no gloves or hats? What if a freak snowstorm stranded them, and they died from exposure?
He’d never had these ghoulish thoughts until he’d had a child. Now he had them constantly. He was the only person between Dani and disaster. His parents had died before she was born; he had no brothers or sisters. Kara certainly couldn’t be counted on. No, Scott had to be prepared.
He made a mental note to stow extra winter apparel in his own car—he also made a mental note to buy some—along with umbrellas, bottled water, a first-aid kit….
He was probably going to need a bigger car.
They tumbled into the chilly morning air. The sun ricocheted off the carpet of snow and sent sharp shards of light into his eyes. Scott staggered to his car for his sunglasses.
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