The twins exchanged downcast looks.
Lindy recovered first from their setback. “Is it fun to be a dancer?”
Cheryl pondered the question. “It’s very hard work. I have to practice for hours every day. Sometimes I even get hurt, and I still have to make myself go on. My boss—he’s a choreographer, a person who designs a dance—he can be very tough. He’s seldom happy with how our group performs, and he will make us do it over and over until he thinks it’s right. But yes, it is fun.”
She closed her eyes. “Sometimes when I’m dancing, the music catches me up and carries me along like a bit of thistledown on the wind. I can’t describe it, really, but dancers call it the float. When I’m there, I forget how hard it is, and I only think about how much I love it.”
Sam found his gaze riveted to Cheryl’s face. She was an elegant, sophisticated woman. She glowed with excitement and happiness when she talked about her craft. “It’s a great gift—to love the work you do.”
She met his eyes. “A gift. I’ve never thought of it that way. Maybe that’s true.”
Sam cleared his throat. “Girls, it’s bedtime.”
“Not yet!” they pleaded.
“Yes, it is. You’ve had a long day.”
“Can Cheryl read us a story?”
“Please, Daddy?” Lindy pleaded.
“I’d love to, if it’s okay with you, Sam?”
“Please, Daddy?” Kayla added a soulful look.
“Okay.” Sam watched as the twins gathered up the cat and headed for their room. “Can you make it down the stairs?” he asked Cheryl with a glance at her cast.
“Yes, cowboy. I can manage a few stairs.”
“I was going to be gallant and offer to carry you.”
“No. I think I’ll be safer on my one good foot.”
“Okay, but don’t sue me if you fall.”
The elegant, sophisticated woman stuck her tongue out, then followed the twins downstairs.
He would give anything to see her dance, Sam thought. The idea sobered him. She had devoted years of her life to the study and performance of an art he had barely acknowledged. He was attracted to her, yes, but it was useless to think it could lead to anything more. They didn’t have anything in common.
He’d chosen the wrong kind of woman once. He wouldn’t make that mistake again.
Cheryl managed the stairs without a mishap. The lower level of Sam’s house was similar to the upper one, except the long room was a recreation room complete with a television, a billiard table and an assortment of games and toys for the children. Brown, overstuffed leather chairs sat grouped around a game table where a chess set waited for someone to finish a game.
The twins headed for one of the four doors along the back wall. “Here’s our room,” one of them announced.
It was Lindy who spoke, Cheryl decided, as she followed her into the room. Twin beds covered in spreads depicting rodeo scenes sat side by side. A pair of rocking horses stood stabled in one corner, decorated with carelessly thrown clothes, and an assortment of horse figurines lined up on the top of a bookshelf. Cheryl barely had time to glance around before the children urged her to see the next room.
“This is Gramps’ room.” Lindy held her fingers to her lips. “He says he goes to sleep early so he can get up with the chickens.”
“That’s funny ’cause we don’t have any chickens,” Kayla confessed.
Cheryl hid her grin with a hand to her mouth.
“This is the guest room,” Kayla supplied, opening the next door. The room was decorated in the same Indian prints and bold patterns as the living room upstairs. The bed, neatly made, showed no sign that Sam had spent the night there.
The final door turned out to be Sam’s office. Photographs of buildings both old and new as well as pictures of the twins decorated the walls. A large computer occupied a wide desk and rolled sheets of blueprints were neatly stored in deep bins. A drafting table held sketches of a beautiful stone-and-glass house. She had only a moment to admire the clean lines of the structure and to wonder what else he’d designed before the twins hurried her away.
They quickly got themselves ready for bed, dressing in matching pajamas.
Before her mother passed away Cheryl had believed in goodness. But when her mother died, what little goodness Cheryl knew died with her. Watching these two beautiful girls, she remembered.
Cheryl found it disturbing to think that the bad things in her life might have happened for a reason. Angie was happy now with a man who loved her. She said her tough childhood gave her a special insight into the children she wanted to help. Sam and his family were making Cheryl think about things she had ignored for years.
The girls presented Cheryl with a book. She read them their favorite story of Cinderella from the dog-eared copy. When she had finished, she tucked them in, wished them good-night and turned to leave.
“Wait.” Lindy sat up in bed.
“Daddy always gives us a kiss,” Kayla finished with a yawn.
“Like this?” Cheryl kissed the top of each head.
“Yup.”
“Like that.”
“I’m glad I got it right.” Cheryl smiled softly as she turned off the light and left the room. Sam was waiting outside the door.
“I should be jealous.” His voice, little more than a whisper, caused her pulse to take an erratic leap. “Why?”
“They never go to bed that easily for me.”
“I think you wore them out playing this afternoon.”
“You might be right,” he conceded with a grin.
“You have beautiful children, Sam. You’re a lucky man.”
“I think so, too,” he answered quietly.
Suddenly, she realized how close he stood. His eyes roved over her face as though he were trying to memorize each feature. She stared for a long moment into his dark eyes. If only things were different. Why wish for such a foolish thing?
“We think she’s beautiful, Daddy,” a little voice said.
“Don’t you think she is?”
Cheryl felt the heat of a blush steal up her cheeks.
Sam looked down at the big eyes of his daughters as they peeked out the crack of their bedroom door. He tried for a stern, fatherly tone but didn’t quite make it.
“I think she’s very pretty.” His mouth twitched as he tried not to smile. “What are you doing out of bed?”
“You didn’t kiss us good-night,” Lindy reminded him.
“Back to bed, both of you. I’ll be in soon.”
“After you kiss Cheryl good-night?”
“Close the door, now!”
It snapped shut. He stepped back a pace and shoved his hands in his pockets. “I’m sorry about that.”
“It’s okay. They mean well. Good night, Sam.”
Sam pushed a hand through his hair as he watched her climb the stairs. He’d always considered himself a smart man, but he sure wasn’t acting like it where she was concerned. He knew better than to get involved with her. By her own admission, her career was more important than a husband or a family.
He glanced toward the closed bedroom door. Silently, he vowed to remember that his children were the most important people in his life. They needed good examples, good role models to follow. As much as he felt drawn to Cheryl, she wasn’t what he or his girls needed.
Chapter Seven
Cheryl tried to concentrate on the book she was reading, but it was useless. She prided herself on being levelheaded, on her ability to stay focused on her career. She had never let a man interfere with her desire to be a successful dancer. Yet, her career was something that seemed to slip to the back of her mind when Sam Hardin was around. He scrambled her common sense without even trying. One glimpse of his endearing, lopsided grin, and her insides turned to jelly.
Glancing out the window, she watched low gray clouds scuttle across the prairie sky. The wind that drove them today was a warm south wind and the snow was melting rapidly. Soon, she’d be able to
disappear as fast. The thought brought an ache to her heart as real as the ache in her broken foot.
Sam had pleaded work as his excuse and vanished downstairs after breakfast. He’d been down there most of the afternoon. Supposedly, he was working on finding a nanny to take care of the children while his mother was gone.
The twins were playing downstairs, and occasionally the sound of their voices floated up the stairwell. Their happy chatter filled the house with a pleasant hubbub.
Cheryl picked up her book and tried to concentrate again, but when she found herself reading the same page over for the third time, she put it down with disgust. From the corner of her eye, she spied Bonkers walking around the end of the sofa, and she did a double take.
The cat strolled through the living room dressed in a pink, ruffled, baby dress with little puffy sleeves. His outfit was complete with ruffled underpants that had a hole cut out for his tail. A pink bonnet tied in a lopsided bow beneath his chin was the crowning touch. Cheryl couldn’t help herself—she burst out laughing.
Bonkers paused in his trek across the room, gave her a malevolent stare, then slipped beneath the sofa. A moment later, the twins came pounding up the stairs and piled to a stop in front of Cheryl. She still wasn’t sure which one was which.
“Our baby is missing.”
“Have you seen him?”
Cheryl pointed downward. “I believe he’s under the sofa, girls.”
They dropped to the floor and peered beneath it.
“Yup, he’s under there.”
“I think he’s mad at us.”
“I told you he didn’t want baby lotion on his tail, Lindy.” Kayla’s scolding clued Cheryl into which one was speaking.
“You did not.”
“Did, too!”
“Did not!”
“All right, now,” Cheryl intervened. “Bonkers will come out when he’s ready.”
The twins climbed on the sofa beside her.
“I was only trying to be a good mommy. I didn’t know it would make him mad,” Lindy confessed with a long face.
“I’m sure he won’t stay mad, sweetheart. And I think you will be a great mommy,” Cheryl tried to console her.
“Our mommy was a bad mommy,” Lindy said.
Dumbfounded, Cheryl stared at her. “What do you mean?”
“Our mommy didn’t want us,” Kayla answered sadly.
“She gave us away,” Lindy added with a dramatic sigh.
“Just like kittens stuffed in a sack.”
“Who said that?” Cheryl demanded.
Kayla exchanged a glance with her sister. “Jimmy Slader’s mom.”
“She didn’t think we were listening,” Lindy added.
“Merci Slader?” Cheryl asked in disbelief.
Both girls nodded.
Cheryl hesitated, uncertain of how to proceed. Having a serious conversation with two five-year-olds was a little out of her league. More than that, she felt she shouldn’t be prying into Sam’s private life.
“What has your father told you about why your mother doesn’t live with you?” she asked gently.
“He said they both loved us,” Kayla volunteered.
“But they didn’t want to be married anymore,” Lindy added.
“Mommy wanted to marry someone else and live far away.”
“And Daddy wanted to live on the ranch.”
“So they chose the bestest place for us to live.”
“Here with Daddy,” Lindy concluded.
A simplified answer for a marital breakup, but Cheryl wasn’t about to delve into anything more complicated. “I think your dad would tell you the truth.”
“I think so, too,” Lindy declared.
“Besides, I don’t remember being in a sack,” Kayla added.
Lindy crossed her arms. “Me, neither!”
Cheryl fought back a smile. “I think Jimmy Slader’s mom may be full of hot air.”
The twins giggled, but Kayla grew somber again. “Is it okay if I still love Mommy, even if she didn’t want us?”
“No, you can’t!” Lindy shouted. “I told you that!”
Cheryl gathered them close in a quick, impulsive hug. “Yes, you can, darling. It’s okay to love her.”
She struggled to find the right words. “When someone you love does something bad, you don’t have to like what they’ve done, but you can still love that person.” Her father’s and her brother’s faces came to mind, and she realized the truth of what she was saying. She knew her dad hadn’t been much of a father, but she’d never stopped loving him, never stopped trying to earn his love in return, even though she knew the things he did were wrong. And she’d never stopped loving Jake even after all this time.
She gazed down at the children. “Do you understand what I’m trying to say?”
“I think so,” Kayla said.
“Maybe.” Lindy sounded reluctant to agree.
Cheryl smiled softly. “I’ll bet Jimmy Slader loves his mother, even though she’s full of hot air.”
They both grinned, then Lindy said, “Daddy says she wants to take care of us when he can’t be here.”
Kayla crossed her arms and looked sullen. “Until Grandma comes back.”
“’Cause he has to go to Kansas City, and we can’t go with him.”
“But we don’t want her. So he’s gonna find—”
“—a ninny to take care of us.”
Cheryl struggled to keep a straight face with difficulty. “I think you mean a nanny.”
Kayla gave a sharp nod. “Yup, that’s what we said.”
Cheryl caught a quick look that flashed between the two of them. Suddenly, she had the feeling she was being set up.
Lindy looked at her with beseeching brown eyes. “Why don’t you stay and take care of us until Grandma comes back?”
“We like you,” Kayla added sincerely.
Cheryl discovered something new about children then. Even when you knew you were being wheedled, it didn’t keep you from wanting to give in. It tugged at her heart that they would ask her to stay, and she felt like a heel for rejecting their offer.
“I can’t. The only reason I haven’t left already is because I haven’t been able to find my wallet. I lost it out in the snow after my accident, but the snow is almost gone now, and your father will be able to find it soon, and then I have to leave.”
“But you can’t dance with your foot broken. You said so,” Lindy argued.
“I know, but if I’m lucky, I can get a job helping take care of costumes or the sets. Ballet is what I do.” She stroked a hand through each set of downy curls. “Like your dad takes care of the ranch and builds houses. It’s my job.”
“But why?” they pleaded.
Cheryl didn’t quite know how to convey the meaning of the word career to them. “When you dress Bonkers up in baby clothes, that doesn’t make him a real baby, does it? He’s still a cat.”
She paused to see if they understood what she was saying. “Right now I may not seem like a ballerina, but inside I am. It’s all I’ve ever wanted to be.”
The two faces watching her grew sadder with each word she spoke. Their solemn eyes filled with tears.
“You just don’t like us,” Kayla said mournfully.
“That’s not true,” Cheryl insisted.
Bonkers sprang up beside them on the sofa. His bonnet hung from his neck by a shredded ribbon. Lindy gathered up her make-believe baby, and the girls climbed down. Cheryl reached out to stop them, but Bonkers flattened his ears and hissed at her, and she snatched her hand back.
Sam stood at the top of the stairs as the somber-faced pair marched around him without a word. Cheryl cast him a pleading glance, but he shook his head. “You have only known them for two days. I’ve had to cope with them for five years, and they still do it to me. Welcome to the Giant Rat Fink Club.”
“If those two don’t end up on the stage, the world will be denied the presence of great actresses,” Cheryl said in awe.
> “I hate to tell you this, New York, but they’re just getting started.”
He walked over and sat beside her on the sofa. “I have to admit, it’s a good idea. I’m sure I can’t pay you what a ballerina earns. In spite of appearances, ranching isn’t always a prosperous business, but I think I can pay you what a ninny would make.”
They exchanged amused glances. “I think you have an exaggerated idea of what a ballerina pulls down,” she said. “It’s a tempting offer, Sam, but no.”
“You said yourself that you can’t dance. This way you have a place to stay and a little money coming in until your foot is healed.”
“Sam, I can’t. I adore your kids, but I have to rejoin my company.”
He grew serious as he studied her face. He reached out and brushed a wisp of hair back from the edge of her jaw, then dropped his hand. He stood and smiled at her. “I hate to think you’re leaving us for a bunch of guys in pink tights.”
A grin struggled through her sadness. Trust Sam to find a way to make her smile.
He gave a nod in the direction of the stairs. “I’ve got to get back to work now. Is there anything I can do for you?”
“No, I’m fine.”
“Do you think you could stay until Friday at least? I really do need to go to Kansas City on Thursday. If I can convince these clients to go with my design, it’ll mean a lot. It seems the girls aren’t crazy about Merci’s offer to let them stay with her. Walter thinks he can handle them, but the truth is, I’d feel better if I had someone to look after all of them.”
“I’ll stay until then,” she conceded. “It’s the least I can do after all you’ve done for me. Besides, I can’t go anywhere until I have my wallet back, or until I know for sure I need to report everything as lost.”
“Thanks. Most of the snow is gone. I’ll go look for it again this afternoon,” he offered, turning to leave.
“Thanks, Sam.” Cheryl watched him walk back to the staircase. His broad shoulders slumped as he thrust his hands deep in his pockets. Watching him walk away, she had the strangest feeling that she’d just lost something very valuable, and it wasn’t her wallet.
Sam checked on the twins, but they weren’t in their room. It wasn’t unusual for them to retreat to the barn or the garden when they were unhappy. He’d talk to them about Cheryl’s leaving later.
Balancing Act Page 8