by Renee Ryan
He sank down on the church steps, placed his elbows on his knees and absently watched the Sunday-morning traffic meander past.
In that moment, he felt like a fraud. Family. Future. He had no business asking any woman to share either of them with him until he let go of his anger. Toward God. Toward himself. Both were intricately linked, neither existing without the other.
He knew he had to make peace with the past, with himself and with God, before he could claim the peace of God.
Where did he begin?
His anger ran deep. Sheila had died too soon after they’d put their marriage back together. They’d only had a few months of genuine harmony before everything had fallen apart again.
He gives and He takes away.
Why, Lord?
Connor had followed the rules. He’d put family ahead of work and his marriage ahead of ambition. He’d chosen general practice over a more demanding specialty. And still, the Lord sentenced two little girls to go through life without their mother.
Molly and Megan were hungry for female attention, as evidenced by their quick attachment to Olivia. Not that Connor didn’t understand their fascination with the woman. He was becoming attached to Olivia himself.
But he couldn’t forget that she had plans to start her own business. Connor knew what demands she would face on her time, on her heart, the kind that had nearly ruined his marriage to Sheila. There wouldn’t be room in Olivia’s life for much other than work, at least in the early years.
The sound of a familiar praise song wafted on the air. Connor’s eyes burned as the words drifted over him. “I will rise up like wings on eagles.”
He squeezed his eyes shut, willing the image of his wife to come to him. Instead of Sheila’s blond hair and lean, athletic build, the image that filled his mind was of a woman with dark hair, blue, blue eyes and a smile that nearly knocked him off his feet.
Another shift occurred inside him, away from things he’d always known, toward unchartered territory.
He thought he might be sick.
The doors swung open behind him and out came the first wave of people.
Connor stood aside to let them pass. His gaze found Olivia the moment she exited the church. He tried to gather the wits necessary to look away.
He couldn’t.
People continued spilling out of the church. Some rushed past him. Others smiled or called a greeting, acknowledging him with a wave or head bob from wherever they stood.
His throat clogged at the unrestrained acceptance they displayed toward him. No pressure. No comments about his absence over the years. Just smiles and a few kind words.
And there was Olivia, watching him with a look in her eyes similar to all the others, yet with a slightly different spin, a more personal one.
The choke hold around his heart released and everything in him simply...let...go.
For a brief moment, Connor couldn’t move, couldn’t breathe, couldn’t break eye contact.
Olivia appeared equally frozen in place.
Another moment of staring passed, and then Avery came into view, moving between them with a smirk on her face. She made a grand show of looking from one to the other, then strolled over to him. “Hey. You okay?”
“Sure.” But his throat burned. And his heart ached.
Swallowing hard, he concentrated on his sister’s face.
Bad idea. Avery was smirking at him, with a knowing twinkle in her eyes. “You look like someone smacked you upside the head.”
Sometimes little sisters were nothing but an annoyance. “It’s been a long day.”
“Uh-huh.” She slanted a look at Olivia.
Connor followed the direction of her gaze. Another bad idea. The very worst of bad ideas.
Olivia was now engaged in a conversation with Keely O’Toole’s hotshot brother, a man who seemed to be standing entirely too close, with entirely too much interest in his eyes.
Beau said something that made Olivia playfully slap at his arm. Connor’s knee-jerk response was to start up the steps in their direction.
Avery stopped him with a laugh. “In my professional medical opinion—”
“You aren’t a doctor yet.”
“I will be soon.” She ratcheted up the annoying little-sister grin. “Besides, it doesn’t take a medical degree to know the signs of a man in—”
“Where are the twins?”
“Still in children’s church, as you well know. And, wow, Connor.” Eyes luminous with sympathy, she squeezed his arm. “You really got it bad for the nanny.”
He ignored the comment, though he privately agreed with his sister. He wanted nothing more than to take Olivia in his arms and unleash a load of promises he wasn’t sure he could keep. Or worse, she wouldn’t want him to give.
He’d be wise to keep his distance. With that in mind, he started off in the direction of the children’s building.
“Before you go.” Avery’s voice stopped him in his tracks. “I invited Olivia and her friend Keely to Sunday dinner at your house this afternoon. Hope that was all right.”
Since Connor had begun hosting Sunday dinner, he’d insisted the table include more than immediate family. Friends, neighbors, people in need. The different mix always made for an interesting afternoon. “Of course.”
“So you’re okay that I invited them?”
“You know I am,” he said, wondering why she felt the need to ask a second time. “You can invite anyone you want.”
“Oh, good.” She clapped her hands together in delight. “Then I’m going to invite Keely’s brother, too. That okay with you?”
Despite not liking the way the guy eyed Olivia, there was no real reason to say no.
“Fine. Invite him.” He spoke flatly, with only a hint of sarcasm in his tone. “The more the merrier.”
“Try to drum up some enthusiasm.”
He bared his teeth. “That better?”
“Perfect.” Laughing, she proceeded to saunter over to Beau O’Toole.
One good thing about Avery asking the guy to Sunday dinner. Beau was forced to turn away from Olivia to give his answer.
Chapter Thirteen
Sunday dinner at Connor’s house proved to be a lot of fun. Chaotic, yes. But that was what made the day special. Besides, Olivia decided, a certain level of mayhem was to be expected with the broad mix of adults, children, dogs and one rambunctious puppy.
Ethan and Ryder had even shown up with Baloo. They’d arrived just as Olivia, Keely and Avery had begun serving the meal.
Her brothers had uncanny timing when it came to home-cooked meals. They always managed to appear at the precise moment the food hit the table.
Olivia shook her head, filled a second bowl of mashed potatoes and headed outside to deliver it to the long picnic table Connor had set up for the occasion.
Despite the sketchy weather earlier this morning, the sun shone brightly now, a big, fat yellow ball against a clear blue sky.
Connor met her halfway across the yard and took the bowl from her. Their fingers touched, just a gentle slide of his over hers, and yet all five of her senses went on high alert.
How’d he do that?
No man had ever pulled this reaction out of her, simply because of a barely-there touch. Not Warner, not her college boyfriend, not even Keely’s brother, Beau. Who was arguably one of the most charming, best-looking men in town. Besides Connor.
Laid-back, easygoing, Beau O’Toole was the quintessential poster boy for Colorado ski country. The startling green eyes and messy, sun-kissed brown hair added to his overall appeal.
But Olivia had known him all her life and knew he went through women like a camel went through water after a trip across the desert. Beau might seem interested in her, today, and had already asked he
r out three times since the church service let out, but Olivia knew better. He was just being Beau.
Even if he’d been sincere, she’d never go out with him. For the simple reason he wasn’t Connor.
Why him? Why now, when Olivia had plans that required her full concentration? If all went according to the timetable she’d recently devised, she would be securing a loan in the coming weeks.
So, again, why Connor? Why now?
She knew the answer, of course. Because, as her mother used to say, the heart wants what the heart wants.
“Get yourself a plate of food,” he said, still standing with the bowl between them. “You’re looking a little pale.”
Hunger had nothing to do with her condition. A hope for something that might never be hers, hope for a family that needed her desperately, perhaps for all the wrong reasons. Those things, added together, could definitely cause a loss of color.
“Go on.” He nudged her with his shoulder.
She remained firmly in place. “Have you eaten?”
“I will, once everyone else has been served.”
His answer was a telling one. Connor was always taking care of everyone, putting himself last. The dedicated father, the caring big brother, the overworked doctor.
Who took care of Connor?
“Let’s eat together,” she suggested, taking the potatoes back. “After I deliver these to the table.”
He simply stared at her.
“We’ll both get a plate and sit over there—” she hitched her chin to her left “—under the tree by the pond.”
He continued staring at her. And for the first time since knowing him, Connor Mitchell looked as if he were unable to make a decision.
He quickly recovered. “Excellent suggestion. I’d like to talk to you about something anyway.”
Looking as if he had more to say, he was interrupted when Ethan’s voice lifted over the crowd. “One of you gonna serve those potatoes before they get cold?”
Olivia hurried away.
The rest of the afternoon went by in a haze. She never did get a chance to sit down and eat with Connor. Or anyone, for that matter. She’d picked her way through a meal while making sure everyone else was served.
She still had a great day.
About an hour before dusk, after a fourth game of volleyball, people started leaving. By the time the sun drew even with the horizon, there were only a few stragglers. Beau left right after Ethan, Baloo and Ryder. Keely hadn’t been far behind since she had to cover the dinner shift at her restaurant.
When the girls started bickering over who lost Samson’s ball in the pond—a sure sign of their mutual exhaustion—Olivia ushered them inside the house. She set them up with a movie and one very tuckered out puppy settled on the sofa between them.
The three fell asleep before Olivia pressed Play on the remote in her hand.
Padding quietly back through the house, she found Avery in the kitchen, filling the sink with soapy water. “I can do that,” she said.
“I’m good.” She smiled over her shoulder. “But I wouldn’t turn away help.”
“You got it.” Olivia grabbed a towel and began drying the dishes Avery had already washed.
They stood side by side, working in silence, their gazes focused on the window that overlooked the backyard.
Connor was out there alone, clearing away trash, breaking down tables and chairs, looking like the man in charge, as if the world stood on his shoulders and he was managing just fine. Thank you, very much.
“Does he ever relax?” she wondered aloud.
“Not nearly enough.” Avery sounded every bit as worried as Olivia felt. “Since Sheila died he’s worked three times as hard to create a happy life for the girls. Though he’d never admit it, the brutal schedule he’s set for himself is taking a toll. I can see it in the lines around his eyes and mouth.”
Olivia thought about the twins, how well-adjusted they were, especially considering they barely remembered their mother. Connor had kept her alive in their hearts with pictures and stories, and his daughters had reaped the benefits. “He’s a good man.”
“The very best,” Avery agreed. “And the most stubborn one on the planet.”
Olivia knew at least three others that could compete for the title, all with the last name Scott. But none of her brothers were single fathers, so maybe Connor was the most stubborn of them all. Certainly the hardest-working of the bunch. “I wish he would, I don’t know...” She picked up another plate and wiped the water away. “I wish he’d let someone help him out.”
Avery looked over at her. “He has help. Carlotta is a wonder. And you’ve managed to provide in her absence.”
Then why did Olivia feel as if she were failing him? “That’s not what I meant.”
“What did you mean?”
Eyes still on Connor, she thought about the night the girls came down with the chickenpox and how much he sacrificed for them on a daily basis. Who made sacrifices on his behalf?
“He doesn’t just need someone to help him around the house. He needs someone...to...” She swallowed hard. “Love him.”
“From where I’m standing—” Avery turned off the faucet and took the towel from Olivia to dry her hands “—I’d say someone already does. And I’m not talking about immediate family members.”
Olivia simply sighed.
Avery passed her back the towel. “Can I give you a piece of advice?”
“Um...okay.”
“Don’t give up on my brother.”
Olivia’s throat seized, and she had to blink several times to keep her eyes dry. “You’re making assumptions about our relationship. I’m just the nanny, only here temporarily until Carlotta’s knee heals.”
“We both know you’re more than that.”
Was she? Olivia felt a rush of hope surge through her blood.
“For all his competence in the medical field, and in so many other areas of his life, Connor’s never had to pursue a woman.” She pulled Olivia to an empty chair and pressed on her shoulders until she sat. “He’s going to stumble around at first, maybe even push you away if things get too heavy.”
Eaten alive with hope, yet afraid to let herself give in to the emotion, Olivia stared into Avery’s eyes. “What if he’s not interested in me that way?”
“Oh, he’s interested.”
“You seem awfully sure of that.”
“That’s because I am.” Avery grinned. “Whenever you enter a room, his eyes track straight to you. You’re the only woman I’ve ever seen him look at like that. It’s kind of sweet and icky at the same time.”
Olivia laughed.
Avery joined in. “And if that wasn’t enough of a giveaway, he really didn’t like seeing you flirting with Beau today.”
“I wasn’t flirting with Beau.”
Avery gave her a get-real roll of her eyes.
“He was flirting with me.”
“Okay, fair enough. The point is that Connor wasn’t happy watching you two together.”
Even if he was interested in her, would he be able to let Sheila go? Enough to love another woman? To love Olivia?
She didn’t know. The not knowing scared her, because she thought she might be falling for him. Despite her efforts to guard her heart, to remember what it was like to be nothing more than a convenience in a man’s life, Connor and his daughters had slipped through her defenses.
“You’re going to have to stand firm, Olivia, and maybe do a bit of the pursuing yourself if Connor drags his feet.”
“Why are you telling me this, Avery?”
“Because I like you, always have.”
Olivia smiled. “I like you, too.”
“Glad we’re in full agreement.” She sat next to Olivia in the emp
ty chair beside her. “You’re good for my brother, and that’s not something I take lightly. You shouldn’t, either.”
As she mulled this over, Olivia realized something else. Not only was she good for Connor; he was good for her. They might even be better together than apart.
One problem. “What if he doesn’t let me in?”
“Then you push your way in.”
That would require some serious nerve. And a lot of hard work on her part. She’d have to make herself vulnerable again, to risk terrible hurt, perhaps worse than the one she’d recently suffered.
Did Olivia have the courage? The fortitude? Of course she did. She was a Scott. Scotts never gave up. They never backed down. They went after what they wanted.
Nevertheless, pushing her way into Connor’s heart wouldn’t be easy. There would probably be times when Olivia would wonder what she’d gotten herself into. But one thing she knew for sure. Connor Mitchell and his two daughters were keepers, and totally worth the effort.
* * *
Connor entered the kitchen moments after the sun disappeared behind the mountains, leaving the sky a soft gray awash with fading pinks, oranges and purples. Avery and Olivia were in deep conversation, their heads bent closely together, probably discussing things no man should overhear.
Seeking quick escape, he carefully backtracked in the direction he came. One step. Two.
Avery lifted her head. “Ah, Connor. There you are. Olivia and I were just finishing up.”
“Looks like you were just getting started.”
“Nope, we’re all through.” Avery hopped to her feet.
At the same moment, Olivia glanced at him over her shoulder. There was something new in her eyes, something determined and very female. Connor suddenly felt like a prize buck caught in the crosshairs of a wily hunter.
It wasn’t a thoroughly awful sensation.
“I think I hear the girls calling me.” Avery practically ran out of the room. But then she stopped and turned back to Olivia. “Want me to set up our slumber party for next weekend?”
Her eyes still locked and loaded on Connor, Olivia nodded. “I’d love that. Thanks for suggesting it.”