Book Read Free

A Father's Promise

Page 6

by Helen R. Myers

“Don’t,” she breathed, shifting slightly to put herself out of his reach.

  Hurt and disappointment were a heavy weight on his chest, but understanding why she remained as skittish as a doe around him, he dropped his hand. “Okay. I won’t crowd you. But I’m not going to apologize for wanting to touch you. Not when your skin is as soft as J.J.’s. Not when—”

  “Now that you’re back, I really have to go.” She eased out of the rocker. “I’ll take him upstairs and put him on your bed. It works out well if you surround him with pillows. That’s a trick I learned watching a friend. Did you get everything you needed? If you want, I can pick up whatever you didn’t find before I come back tomorrow.”

  John listened to the hushed, coolly polite speech, and thought she might as well be pouring ice water down the back of his shirt. “Dana.”

  “At any rate, you’re almost out of formula. Sorry for not thinking of it earlier. I don’t know what I could have been…well, no matter, I’ll get some at—”

  “Dana, stop for a moment. Please.” By that time she’d made it to the foot of the stairs, and she did relent, and stop. But she refused to look at him. For his part, all the stress and fatigue of the day was fast catching up with him. He leaned back against the wall and shut his eyes. “You don’t need to make excuses. I get the message.”

  “I’m not sure you do.”

  A brief, harsh laugh forced its way up his throat. “Oh, believe me, for all my numerous flaws, poor hearing isn’t one of them. You can’t stand my touch any more than you ever could and you want me to keep my clumsy paws to myself.”

  He expected an immediate confirmation. But Dana just rocked J.J. as the baby roused slightly at his bitter outburst. When she didn’t respond, he decided that her silence was worse than a confession. Suddenly he wanted to resort to old methods, spin around and put his fist through the Sheetrock. Kick a chair across the room. He needed the release or he would lose his mind. Hadn’t his father always said, “Better a broken chair than a bleeding ulcer?” Why bother trying to make her believe he wasn’t like his father or hers, that he was more? Why try to reach for the impossible when it was clear she would never forget?

  “You’re missing the point.”

  She spoke so quietly he almost believed he was hearing his subconscious speaking. He gazed at her intently to be sure it was her voice.

  “Then explain it to me,” he said cautiously.

  “You’re married.”

  “Not really.”

  “You’re married.”

  “Okay, but temporarily.”

  “And you have a child. I told you before—everything has changed. Don’t make me change my mind about helping you.”

  That silenced him. How did life get so complicated? How could he have thought himself so sensible, so bright, yet end up in such a mess?

  “You’re right. Nothing is as it was. I have a child,” he said, exhaling heavily. “I made a big mistake. By rights I deserve never to have you speak to me again. But that’s not the real point, Dana.”

  “Yes, it is.”

  “No.” He managed a determined, if brief, smile. “The point is, that as bad as things might be between us right now, we’re not finished. It’ll never be finished between us. I know it, and if you’re honest with yourself, you’ll admit it, too.”

  “You frighten me when you talk that way.”

  He quickly shook his head. “Don’t be. You never have to be afraid of me again,” he said, more sure of that than he’d ever been of anything in his life.

  “You think words mean anything to me anymore?” she said, her voice strained, her expression growing remote. “I’ve been listening to promises all my life. ‘I’ll never hit you again, honey.’ ‘Your daddy’s gonna change, honey.’ No one’s ever kept their promise to me, Paladin. Not even you.”

  He hated being reminded of that one episode, and hated himself more for being grouped with those who’d let her down. Nevertheless, he took hope in the knowledge that as upset as she was with him, she wasn’t running. She was strong enough to stand her ground and go toe-to-toe with him.

  “Look,” she said wearily, “I suppose this conversation was necessary to clear the air, but it proves how important it is for you to find someone else to take care of your son. Did you remember to stop at the newspaper office and put in an ad?”

  “Yeah. It won’t start running until Monday, though.”

  She looked momentarily disturbed, but quickly replaced it with a curt nod. “Okay. I guess that’s good news for you since it’ll give you time to get yourself in shape.”

  “In shape?” He pressed a hand to his hard, flat belly. “What’s wrong with me?”

  “Not that, this,” she murmured, briefly giving his beard a tug. “The grizzly-bear look should go. Even if it doesn’t spook your applicants, it’s going to be rough on J.J.’s skin.”

  With that she quickly made her way upstairs. John stood there and stared after her until she disappeared into his room. Did she realize she’d voluntarily touched him just now? He wondered.

  All right, he mused, lifting a hand to the spot. The beard would come off. But not only for the sake of J.J.’s skin. No, not just J.J.’s.

  Dana thought she would be relieved when the ad for a nanny began appearing in the area paper. After all, it meant that John had been truthful and was also serious about keeping to the terms of their agreement.

  But a few days later when he began interviewing the women who phoned or wrote to the post office box he’d listed, she realized she’d been fooling herself. Or at least she hadn’t taken into consideration how quickly J.J. would embed himself in her heart.

  The first applicants proved no great threat, especially after she saw that John didn’t approve of them, either. They came and left soon afterward—rigid, bossy women with long résumés because none had stayed at any job for long. They were also women who had more demands than credentials.

  But by Friday a different type of applicant began appearing. These were ladies in the most complimentary sense of the word, gentler people who had impressive job experience and who weren’t only willing to work, but were also interested in the development of the infant they would be caring for.

  That’s when Dana found herself compelled to begin eavesdropping from the hallway, often with J.J. in her arms, in case she was spotted. Then she would bring in the baby for a brief visit with the woman.

  It all happened by accident—the first time John caught her. She’d been so embarrassed, she knew she’d turned scarlet, while he’d looked like the cat who’d swallowed the canary!

  Later she’d forced herself to apologize, and that’s when he surprised her with the news that he felt her input might be helpful. She could have done without the twinkle in his dark eyes, of course. It only made his freshly shaved face all the more handsome. But it didn’t keep her from accepting his invitation.

  Being an authorized eavesdropper was less nerve-racking in some ways and more in others. Though now she didn’t miss any of the interviews, she worried even more about each applicant.

  A full week after the interviews started, she stood behind the door to the study, biting her lip as she listened with growing concern to John laughing at one of Louise Hanratty’s witty responses to a question about her travels. It took Dana several waves from the doorway to get his attention.

  “Something wrong?” he asked, after excusing himself and joining her near the kitchen door.

  “I’m so sorry to call you out of there,” she whispered, hugging J.J. close. “But I really had to point something out.”

  “About Ms. Hanratty?” He scratched the back of his head. “What?”

  Dana made a soft tsking sound. “I knew you didn’t pick up on it. It’s the part about her always having worked with girls. I don’t think she would be sensitive to a little boy’s needs.”

  “Needs?”

  “Look at the woman. I haven’t seen anyone tuck a lace handkerchief in her sleeve in years. She seems del
ightful and sounds thoroughly qualified, but can you picture J.J. in a year or two wanting to spread his wings and explore one of the stock tank’s pollywogs and bullfrogs? This poor woman isn’t going to be able to handle anything so—so outdoorsy. But it’s up to you, of course. What do you think, John?”

  It hadn’t been fair of her to use his first name. She felt guilty the moment it slipped from her lips—until she saw the warmth it spawned in his eyes.

  “No, you’re absolutely right,” he said, and minutes later the slightly confused woman left the house.

  Later that afternoon he came in from the range looking a bit more harried, for an interview with a Ms. Collins, and once again Dana was driven to shake her head in rejection. This time John followed Dana all the way into the kitchen.

  “She’s got an impeccable résumé, Dana. And she’s taken care of both boys and girls.”

  “I heard,” she replied, blissfully preparing J.J.’s next bottle.

  “Then what’s wrong? To me, she seemed the most qualified yet. She’s just off a job watching an oil tycoon’s kids in Saudi Arabia, for heaven’s sake.”

  Dana nodded, feeling generous. “Sure. But in this case it doesn’t matter whether they were boys, girls or puppies. What concerns me is that she’s used to having a staff to care for her and her charges’ every whim. The Long J might be one of the biggest ranches in the area, but it’s not quite the same thing. Think about it. Can you really see her staying here all day? On her own? What’s more, I hardly think Durango would agree to play chef-on-call. And a woman like that would have acquired some exotic culinary tastes.”

  John’s expression changed to one of concern. “I hadn’t thought of that.”

  “Well, there you are,” Dana replied, ducking to adjust the flame under the saucepan. “But again, it’s your decision.”

  Things changed after that. John grew enormously cautious, and for the next few days put every applicant through an intensive preliminary phone screening. That cut down on the already dwindling interviews severely. At first Dana was racked with another round of guilt knowing it would take a saint to match his new expectations. This lasted until the following Friday of the ongoing ordeal when an interviewee passed the initial “exam” and arrived for her appointment, only to stomp out of the house a short time later after accusing John of being impossible to please.

  “Did you hear that?” John sputtered, when Dana carried J.J. into the study and cheerfully handed him to his father.

  Tickling the baby under his chin, she replied, “Don’t take it personally. She simply doesn’t meet your standards. Besides, did you see her ankles? The woman definitely has a water-retension problem. There’s no way she could manage the stairs for long. What if J.J. hurt himself or got ill suddenly and she was down in the kitchen? The poor darling would go hoarse or worse before she checked on him.”

  John thrust out his clean-shaven chin. “You’re right. It’s a good thing she did walk out. It would be ridiculous to have hired her, only to be expected to pay two weeks’ severance pay a few weeks from now.”

  “It certainly would add insult to injury,” Dana replied with a sympathetic smile.

  Common sense told her that somewhere along the line, regardless of how clever she was getting and how logical her reasons were for discouraging him, John would begin to grow weary of the ordeal—or grow suspicious. But heady with her success, she didn’t heed that inner voice. Caught up in the delight of having J.J. all to herself during the day and sharing anecdotes of their small adventures with John when he drove or rode back home around dinnertime, she failed to see how she was setting herself up for a fall, until it was too late.

  It happened at the end of the third week during an interview with an attractive young woman. A widow about his age, Dana amended, as she watched from the top of the stairs while John led Mrs. Pamela Davis into the house. She soon learned that the petite woman had an enviously high IQ to add to her list of sins, and Dana began to pace the hallway with increasing distress while John made casual small talk in the study.

  “…And so you decided instead of going back to teaching a classroom of thirty students, you’d try giving all your attention to one. That’s extremely generous of you.”

  Dana could tell by his voice that he was smiling approvingly. She didn’t like the smooth, cozy tone of this conversation at all.

  “Why, thank you, Mr. Paladin. But to be perfectly honest, I should tell you that I also turned down another position as a nanny because the prospective employers were being transferred to Europe and I didn’t want to leave the country. You see, my younger brother and his wife are expecting their first child, and they live in Mineral Wells. He’s the only family I have left, and I helped raise him.”

  “Perfectly understandable. The important thing is that you genuinely like children? This wouldn’t be simply a job to you?”

  “Oh, not at all, Mr. Paladin. I adore them and…at the risk of being too candid, I should say that I still have hopes of experiencing motherhood myself one day.”

  Dana felt her heart sink into her stomach. Was it really happening then? Was her job here done? To be fair, she couldn’t find any fault with the young woman. John would be crazy not to hire her.

  “Would you excuse me for a moment?” she heard him say, not having a clue as to how long she’d been standing frozen in the hallway.

  She backed toward the kitchen door. Even so, when he came out of the study he seemed to know exactly where to find her, and his look alone had her pushing through the swinging door. He followed until they were both on the other side.

  “Did you need something?” she asked warily.

  “Where’s J.J.?”

  “Upstairs napping. Why?”

  “You haven’t signaled me once during the whole interview. I thought maybe something was wrong.”

  “No. Well…I haven’t been listening for long.”

  “I saw you at the top of the stairs the moment I let her in,” he countered smoothly. “You’ve listened to our entire conversation.”

  He made her sound horrible. “Okay,” she sputtered, finding his nearness as disconcerting as the situation. “So maybe she’s…maybe she’s the one you’ve been looking for.”

  “Are you saying you approve?”

  “No!” She felt the room spin crazily. “I mean, not exactly.”

  “Then tell me what you’re saying. What do you feel?”

  Ill. Full of dread and panic. “Nothing. Only…aren’t you moving rather fast?”

  “I’ve interviewed over a dozen people, Dana. I’ve rejected that many more. Out here that almost qualifies as a census taking. On top of that, I’m falling behind with chores. My bookkeeping is a mess—”

  “Why didn’t you say something?” she blurted out, before she had the sense to think otherwise. “I could help you there.”

  The look on his face told her exactly how out of character that remark was. In fact, when he took another step toward her, she countered it, and found herself backed against the pantry door. When he placed one hand on either side of her to keep her there, she clamped her lips together, afraid her heart would fly out of her mouth if it had the chance.

  “You want to run that one past me again? You quit on me once, remember?”

  “I’m only…I’m not unaware of how hard you’ve been working.”

  “So have you,” he said, his voice turning husky. His gaze roamed over her face with a familiar restlessness. “What’s more, you won’t let me pay you.”

  “We’ve gone through that already. Since you don’t mind me bringing along my work, you’re not really interfering with my schedule.”

  She knew better than to defend or support him. In the past it had always resulted in fanning the embers. She saw it happen again as his brown eyes turned black, but oh, so soft. His skin drew tightly over his broad, powerful cheekbones. Would he try to kiss her? What did she think about that? What would she do?

  Instead he growled softly, “What’s
going on, Irish?”

  He had to hear her heartbeat. It sounded like kettle-drums in her ears. “I don’t understand.”

  “Define this…whatever it is that you’re doing,” he said, with a gesture in the insignificant space between them.

  “There’s nothing to define.”

  “Oh, yeah, there is. I’m getting the strongest hunch that you don’t want me to hire anyone.”

  She felt as though he’d stripped her naked. “That’s ridiculous. I’m not—”

  “Tell me why.”

  She couldn’t lie to him, not when he impaled her with those knowing, captivating eyes. “I only want the best for J.J., that’s all. It’s only natural.”

  “Is it?”

  “All right, consider things from this perspective.” Desperate, she shut her eyes and groped for balance and more convincing logic. “I’ve been spending almost all my time with him. It was inevitable that a bond would form. I feel I know him better than anyone. Except maybe you.”

  Afraid he could hear the tremor in her voice, maybe even her fear, she cleared her throat, determined not to say another word until she knew what he was going to do. But when John ducked his head, there was no way to escape his relentless gaze.

  “Pamela Davis is a setup.”

  She had no idea what he meant. All she could do was stare and mumble, “What?”

  “She’s the sister of a friend in Abilene. I asked Pam to do the interview after I figured out that you’re getting too clever for your own good. I wanted to find out how much you’d endure before you found the courage to tell me that you want to continue taking care of J.J. yourself.”

  She should have known he’d catch on. Oh, he was too cunning at this—and frightening as a result. “That’s ridiculous,” she sputtered, willing to attempt one last try. “You need help. That’s been and is my only concern.”

  “I have help. The best. Who else do I need?” Carefully, as though he was reaching out to fragile J.J., he brushed her hair behind one ear. “Is that what you’re thinking, Irish? Have you decided that maybe I’ve earned the right to be trusted a bit more, that maybe it wouldn’t be so bad to keep things the way they are for a while longer?”

 

‹ Prev