The Daddy Survey

by Janis Reams Hudson

  “If that’s the only problem,” he said, giving her a teasing grin, “I can arrange for it to take weeks, months, for your car to be fixed.”

  Her eyes widened in shock, then she laughed. “Shame. You had me there, for a minute. You wouldn’t do that.” Her expression turned wary. “Would you?”

  “Naw, I guess not. But the thought has merit.” His gaze lowered to her full, lush lips. What was that saying? In for a penny? He moved closer, much closer this time. “There’s something I’ve been wondering since the first time I saw you.”

  Emily’s heart raced. She wouldn’t back away this time. Couldn’t, since her feet seemed to have taken root in the damp soil beneath her shoes. Not to mention that if she moved back so much as an inch she’d be flush against the tree.

  “Are you afraid of me?”

  The look in his eyes mesmerized her. His deep voice washed over her and left goose bumps in its wake. “No.” It was her reaction to him that was cause for concern.

  “Good. Then you won’t mind if I do this.” He leaned forward.

  His warmth surrounded her, yet he wasn’t touching her. Closer, closer he came until his breath puffed against her face. He was going to kiss her. And heaven help her, she wanted him to.

  He did. Just the slightest brush of his lips to hers, no pressure. Before she had time to be disappointed, he was back, a little more this time, a little longer.

  Oh, he was good at this.

  She refused to let herself think about this being her first kiss in more than two years. She wasn’t much capable of thought anyway, since her mind went all fuzzy when Sloan whispered her name against her lips. Her mind went fuzzy, her knees went weak, and she ended up with her back against the tree and her arms around his waist. And, oh, it felt so good. She let herself sink into the kiss, into him.

  Sloan felt her surrender and deepened the kiss, but not too much. He didn’t want to push her too hard, too fast. Her taste was sweet and light. He dipped in with his tongue for more. When she met him with her own, he shuddered. He could get used to this, to her, the taste of her, the feel of her pressed against him. He wanted to cup her breasts in his hands, but he settled for cupping her face.

  Her skin was soft and satiny, as he’d known it would be. The shape of her, small and curved in all the right places, fit against him like a long-missing puzzle piece.

  He wanted to scoop her up in his arms and carry her away to some soft, comfortable place where she would never have another worry. She wouldn’t have to travel four or five states for a chance at a damn factory job just to put food on the table. Her car wouldn’t quit and leave her stranded. She wouldn’t be alone in life, in raising her daughters.

  Realizing where his thoughts were going, and that he had deepened the kiss far more than he’d intended, he lightened the pressure and slowly broke away. He was breathing hard. His palms were damp.

  The woman definitely got to him. He leaned his forehead against hers. Her eyes were closed, her breathing just as rapid as his. “I’m going to want to do that again,” he warned her softly.

  Her lips curved. “You are?”

  “Yes, ma’am.” He stood back and placed his forearms on the tops of her shoulders. “What are my chances?”

  She blinked her eyes open and smiled. There was a bit of the devil in that smile. “I’ll think about it and let you know.”

  “I reserve the right to try to persuade you.”

  She smiled at him, then changed the subject. “I need to go check on the girls.”

  “They’re down at the garage. I’ll walk with you.”

  They turned and walked away from the rushing creek and the kissing tree. After a few steps, she spoke.

  “Let me make sure I’ve got this straight. You offered me a job, sent your housekeeper on vacation and brought me here.”

  Sloan felt his cheeks sting. Damnation, he was blushing! He’d thought this discussion over. “Guilty.”

  “And spent the first two days ignoring me so I wouldn’t know you were attracted to me.”

  “We’ve been through all that.”

  She folded her arms across her chest, her gaze centered on the big garage beyond the barn. “You said you ignored me so I wouldn’t feel uncomfortable. Why would your being attracted to me make me uncomfortable?”

  “It did, didn’t it?”

  Her lips quirked. “I obviously got over it. But you didn’t know about my reservations, so what made you think that?”

  Sloan stopped walking and glanced up at the sky again, but no divine intervention swept down from above to save him from this awkward, embarrassing discussion. “I was afraid that if you knew I was attracted to you, you might think I expected you to do something about it.”

  Finally, she blinked. “Do what?”

  “I don’t know.” He was yelling, he realized, but couldn’t seem to help it. “Come on to me or something, because you thought you owed it to me for helping you out.”

  She pursed her lips and arched her eyebrow. “You don’t want me to come on to you?”

  “Of course I want you to come on to me,” he bellowed. “But not just because you think you owe me something.”

  “As if I would. How can you possibly be attracted to a woman you think has no brains? No—” She held up a hand. “Never mind. You’re a man. Enough said.”

  “Hey, I resemble that statement.”

  She laughed. “Yes, you do.”

  That fast, Sloan’s good humor was restored. And his attraction for this woman grew. “So,” he said, “you’re not mad?”

  She sighed and smiled. “How can I be?” She threw her arms out and laughed. “When you did it all for love?”

  “I knew you’d— What?”

  The pretty woman before him, with the big blue eyes and delicately arched neck, laughed so hard she had tears streaming down her cheeks.

  “Oh,” she managed, “you should see the look on your face.”

  His knees turned to water. His mouth dried out. “I never said anything about…about love.”

  She laughed again and patted his arm. “Relax. I think I’m actually flattered that you went to all this trouble. And that you don’t expect anything more from me but an honest day’s work filling in for Earline.”

  “Well, of course that’s all I expect.”

  “And the occasional kiss?”

  “The occasional kiss,” he said quietly, “is something I would like very, very much. But it’s not part of your job description. That’s what I’ve been trying to tell you.”

  “I wish you’d told me from the start,” she said.

  “I was afraid if I tried too hard to reassure you, you’d think I was really up to something. And just out of curiosity, why did you even trust me enough to come with me? Not that I’m complaining,” he added quickly.

  She chuckled and started walking again. “I didn’t.”

  “Pardon?”

  “I trusted you enough to get me out of New Mexico, but when we stopped at Amarillo I decided I would either leave my car there and take the bus to Fort Smith, or I’d stay in Amarillo and get a job there until I could get the car fixed.”

  Sloan stared at her and nearly tripped over a rough spot in the ground. “For a woman with two little girls, either one of those might have been smarter than trusting a stranger.”

  “Not that you’re complaining.”

  “Right. So why didn’t you do one of those? What changed your mind?”

  “Your reputation, and the reputation of your family and ranch.”

  “Pardon?” Damn, he was starting to sound like a parrot.

  “I called my cousin in Fort Smith to tell her what had happened and where we were. I told her what I was thinking about doing, but when her husband heard your name he said I’d be smarter to take you up on your offer. He personally vouched for your honesty and integrity.”

  Sloan’s eyes widened. “Do I know him?”

  She shook her head. “I doubt it. Tommy—Hargrave—has a s
mall farm and ranching operation just outside Fort Smith. But he’s heard of you, and he assured me that Cherokee Rose Chisholm wouldn’t allow any foolishness under her roof.”

  “Well, he got that right.” Sloan relaxed and smiled, a little humbled by such a glowing recommendation from a stranger, but gratified nonetheless. Especially since it got Emily and her girls to come to the ranch with him.

  He’d have to thank this Tommy Hargrave some day.

  Emily all but hummed to herself on her way to the garage. Sloan was attracted to her. If she thought about it very much, it might trouble her. After all, she’d only ever been with one man in her entire life. What did she really know about men and how to deal with the situation when a man said he was attracted to her? When a man kissed her beneath a tree?

  But she didn’t let herself think about it. She didn’t let herself think about how out of her depth she felt, how nervous. How excited. For now, until she could be alone with her thoughts and her heart in the dark, she was simply going to enjoy the fact that the strong, handsome, kindhearted man walking beside her was attracted to her.

  She heard the little-girl giggles and grown-man laughter before she had a good view into the garage because the big main door stood propped open, blocking her view.

  She saw Justin first, and he spotted her. He pulled a round yellow sucker from his mouth and spun away.

  “Mommy alert,” he hissed.

  More little-girl giggles.

  By the time Emily stepped around the gaping door and peered inside the garage, Caleb, his fingers black with grease, was leaning over her engine beneath the raised hood of her car. The white stick of a sucker protruded from his mouth as he oh-so-nonchalantly looked over at her and smiled.

  Too nonchalantly, she thought.

  On the other side of the car stood Justin and her daughters, all three of them grinning from ear to ear, their hands behind their backs. Telltale smears of green decorated Janie’s mouth, while Libby’s bore purple.

  Emily pursed her lips and folded her arms. “Suckers.” It was a long-standing joke among them. Emily always told them they couldn’t have sweets, but she generally provided one after supper. “Caught you.”

  “Busted,” Justin muttered out the side of his mouth. “What’ll she do to us?”

  Both girls mashed their lips together to keep from laughing.

  “Offer her a bribe,” Caleb suggested casually, his gaze focused on the grimy engine.

  “What’s the deal? Who’s offering a bribe to who?” Sloan stood beside Emily.

  “Whom.” Emily’s correction came automatically. She was used to correcting her daughters. But she winced, realizing Sloan might not appreciate it. She glanced at him warily.

  He chuckled. “Okay, whom, Grandmother.”

  “Sorry,” she muttered.

  “Don’t be. What about this bribe business?”

  “Unless I miss my guess,” she said, “I am about to be offered a bribe because I’ve caught them red-handed.”

  “Red-handed at what?”

  Janie and Libby couldn’t hold it in any longer and broke out once more in giggles.

  God, but it did Emily’s heart good to see Janie giggle like a normal little girl. She was always so serious, Janie was, since Michael fell ill. She’d been so little, but she had somehow understood that her father was terribly ill. Now, just two days on this ranch, around these rough, tough cowboys, and she was giggling.

  “At these,” Libby told Sloan, pulling her sucker from behind her back. She waved it at him, then popped it into her mouth.

  Janie and Justin did the same.

  “Suckers are no-no’s, huh?” Sloan asked.

  “We’re supposed to ask first,” Libby confessed, totally unrepentant, if the grin on her lips and the twinkle in her eyes were anything to go on.

  Janie leaned toward Justin and shoved her glasses into place. “Offer her the grape one.”

  “Think she’ll go for it?” he asked.

  “Yes, sir.”

  From his hip pocket Justin pulled a sucker wrapped in purple paper. “Care to join us?” he offered Emily.

  With a laugh, Emily rounded the front end of the car and reached for the sucker.

  At the last second Justin snatched it back and held it out of her reach.

  “Hey!” she protested.

  “If you take it, you can’t lecture anybody about sweets for a whole week.”

  Emily narrowed her eyes. “Twenty-four hours.”

  “Three days,” he countered.

  “Twenty-four hours,” she repeated, “and I won’t mention this little episode at all.”

  Justin frowned down at the girls. “What do you think? Shall we call it a deal?”

  Both girls nodded.

  “Quick,” Libby said, “before she changes her mind.”

  From where he stood near the door, Sloan took it all in with a quiet sigh. What a picture. Two little girls and a pretty woman, laughing and giggling in his garage. Who would have thought he would ever see such a beautiful sight?

  Chapter Six

  Melanie Pruitt pulled up and parked her pickup in front of the Chisholm home. All the way over here she’d been telling herself that this wasn’t as bad an idea as it sounded. All she wanted to do was check out the woman who was “helping out” since the guys suddenly decided to send Earline, along with Jeff and their grandchildren, off to Florida. In the middle of summer, no less.

  Melanie knew what people were going to think when word spread that she had come to meet the woman. And word would spread. Fast. People would say she was jealous, that she wasn’t really over her lifelong infatuation with Sloan, despite her avowals of the past couple of years. She couldn’t say she would blame them for their assumptions. She’d said she was over him a dozen times through the years.

  But this time it was true. This time it had finally sunk in: first, that Sloan was never going to be anything more than a big brother to her; and second, she honestly liked it that way.

  It had never been real love that she’d felt, anyway. How could it, when it had started so many years ago?

  It had been a combination of her mother’s prodding—which only years later would Melanie come to understand was part of her mother’s own private agenda, to see her daughter married to one of the “great and mighty Chisholms”—and Melanie’s own case of hero-worship, begun the day when she was five, and Sloan, an older man of twelve, pulled her from the pond.

  From the moment she told her mother about the wonderful boy who had helped her, Melanie had unknowingly—but willingly—been pushed in his direction.

  “Eat your vegetables, Melanie, so you can be strong and healthy. I bet Sloan only likes strong, healthy girls.”

  “Let me tie this ribbon in your hair. You might see Sloan today, and you want to look pretty for him, don’t you?”

  Even her father had picked up the habit of using Sloan’s name to get her to do things. “You let that dang calf get away, girl. You wanna get Sloan’s attention, you’re going to have to be a better cowgirl than that. Try it again.”

  It had been inevitable, she thought, that she would grow up believing that she was supposed to do everything in her power to attract Sloan’s attention, to please him, to make him like her. It had never occurred to her to act any other way.

  Sloan had, for the most part, treated her kindly, and he did like her, but never the way she’d wanted him to. When she’d reached her teens and began to realize he might never think of her as anything other than an amusing nuisance, although, to him, a cute and lovable one, she’d needed a shoulder to cry on.

  Why take it out of the family? She had turned to Caleb. Not for love, but for comfort. He’d been her friend, her confessor, her steady rock when her world began to crumble. Caleb was the salt of the earth. The best.

  With her heart still set on Sloan, and with Caleb to lend an ear and a shoulder for her tears when things didn’t go well, Melanie turned to Justin for pure fun. It was with Justin that
she’d shared the thrill of egging the school principal’s house on Halloween. The first time she’d gotten drunk had been with Justin, too. But when it came time to be sick and puke her guts out from too much beer, it was Caleb who held her head and wiped her face when the humiliating incident was over.

  Oh, yes, she had something going with each of the Chisholm boys.

  She still sometimes leaned on Caleb’s shoulder, and when Justin wasn’t involved with anyone, the two of them now and then went out and raised hell, just for the hell of it.

  But Sloan? Sloan was never going to be hers. She knew that now, and she’d made her peace with it. In truth, she had come to realize that she didn’t want him to be hers. Go figure. She was a fickle female.

  But that didn’t mean she was going to stand calmly by and watch some lazy gold digger sink her claws into him and break his heart. That’s what what’s-her-name, Connie Sue Walters, whom he’d fallen for a couple of years ago, had done, the worthless, silly twit. When Melanie had first met her she’d thought the woman must surely be putting on an act. Nobody was that dense, that helpless.

  “Oh, Sloan,” Melanie mimicked in a singsong voice, “my shoe’s untied. Can you help me?”

  Ugh. The really hideous thing was that Connie Sue really had been a helpless twit. What Sloan had ever seen in her was beyond Melanie.

  No, she thought, that wasn’t true. Sloan was a kind, softhearted man. He’d seen a damsel in distress and, like a knight on a white charger, he had ridden to her rescue and changed a flat tire for her. She had needed him, and Sloan needed to feel needed.

  But when he had realized Connie Sue had needed him for every little damn thing, he’d gotten tired of it. Plus, he had realized that a woman like that would never survive long on a ranch, and Sloan’s life was the Cherokee Rose. He would never leave it.

  Too bad Donna Daniels hadn’t known that from the start. She could have skipped over Sloan and moved on to the next sucker, saving Sloan a great deal of heartache in the process.

  But nooo, Donna had to go and pull the helpless female act on him, and he’d fallen for it, hook, line and sinker, bless his little pointed head.