Jess Malone on Fatherhood…

Daniel,

When you first came into this world, it was just you and me. I didn’t know one thing about fatherhood, or even know what it was like to have a responsible father of my own.

But I told myself I could do it. And somehow we made it through that first year of diapers, bottles and teething. I happen to think I was actually getting the hang of it. Fatherhood wasn’t going to be all that hard. It was nothing to be afraid of. Then you started walking and talking, and you grew into this little person with a mind all your own.

You told me you wanted a mother. And though it hurt like hell to marry again, I did, because I’d sworn to be the best father to you that I could be. Because I wanted you to have what I never had. Parents to love you and always, always to be there for you.

You’ve given me a lot, son—you and your mother. And now I’ve learned that being a father is more than showing you how to hit a baseball or tie your shoes. It’s also showing you how to love.

Daddy

Daniel’s Daddy
Stella Bagwell

www.millsandboon.co.uk

STELLA BAGWELL

has written close to seventy novels for Silhouette Books. She credits her longevity in the business to her loyal readers and hopes her stories have brightened their lives in some small way.

A cowgirl through and through, she loves to watch old Westerns, and has recently learned how to rope a steer by the horns and feet. Her days begin and end helping her husband care for a beloved herd of horses on their little ranch located on the south Texas coast. When she’s not ropin’ and ridin’, you’ll find her at her desk, creating her next tale of love.

The couple has a son, who is a high school math teacher and athletic coach.

To my son, Jason, with love.

Contents

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Epilogue

Chapter One

Hannah Dunbar clutched the neck of her raincoat and shivered against the blast of wet wind swooping down on the graveside mourners. She didn’t really know why she’d made a point of coming to the funeral. She’d barely known Frank Malone, even though he’d been her neighbor for so many years. The few times she’d visited with him, he’d been closer to drunk than sober. And although Hannah hated drunkenness, she’d looked beyond the man’s vice and come to bid him a final farewell. She guessed it was the least she could do. And then there was Jess. She’d come for him, too. Though she suspected her presence meant little, if nothing at all, to him.

Across the open grave, standing apart from the rest, Jess Malone looked around at the small group of mourners. He was surprised that a dozen or so people had shown up and he wondered why any of them had made the effort. Out of friendship to his father?

Certainly the three men across from him, Bill Barnes, Floyd Jones and Walt Newman, had been old friends. In fact, they were the only friends who’d stayed in contact with Frank after he’d become a recluse.

But the rest of the group? Jess couldn’t say. Maybe they were here out of curiosity. Maybe they’d even expected Jess’s mother to show up for her ex-husband’s burial.

If that was the case, they’d been disappointed, Jess thought cynically. He could have told them that once Betty Malone had walked out on her husband and son, she’d totally wiped them from her existence.

Jess’s green eyes slid over the vaguely familiar faces until he reached the end of the group where a tall, slim woman stood apart from the rest. Her flaming red hair had been whipped by the wind. Loose tendrils, which had been torn from the single French braid at the back of her head, curled wildly around her face and shoulders. A drab gray raincoat hid most of her dark dress, while a worn pair of penny loafers covered her feet. The wind was playing with the hem of her dress, exposing a portion of her legs. They were nice legs, he decided, his gaze lingering on their long, sleek curves. Too nice to be hidden by such dowdy clothing.

The murmur of nearby voices jolted him back to the reality of where he was, and he pulled his eyes up to the woman’s face.

Hannah Dunbar! If he’d been studying her face as intently as her legs, he would have already recognized the woman who lived across the street from his father. What was she doing here?

The question was instantly forgotten as a tug on Jess’s hand brought his attention to Daniel, who’d been standing quietly beside him, but was now looking up at him with a lost, bewildered look on his face.

Jess reached down and lifted the small boy into his arms, finding comfort in having his son close to him. The boy would never have a grandfather. Not that Frank could have been one. But now the chance or hope of that ever happening was gone.

“Let us pray.”

The minister’s request had Jess bowing his head and clutching his son even closer. It was just him and Daniel now.

Draping her coat over the back of a kitchen chair, Hannah crossed the small room and began to fill the coffee machine with water and coffee grounds. After she’d switched it on, she lit a small gas heater in the living room.

It was unusually cool for Lordsburg, New Mexico, even if it was mid-January. Hannah couldn’t ever remember feeling this chilled, even counting the time she’d gone to Ruidoso on a trip with the senior class. And that had been more than fifteen years ago.

Jess Malone had been on that trip, too, she recalled, her expression thoughtful as she held her cold hands out to the heater. That year had been his last in Lordsburg. She hadn’t seen him since. Until today at the funeral.

He’d changed. That much had been obvious. Fifteen years was a long time. Now that he was thirty-three, he was more muscular and his thick brown hair far shorter than the way he’d worn it as a teenager. His face had changed, too. It was leaner, rougher and more damnably handsome than she remembered. But she’d expected most of those changes in him. What Hannah hadn’t expected to see was a child in his arms.

Jess was the last boy in their class that she would have described as a father figure. But obviously the child was his. The minister officiating the memorial service had spoken of the boy as a surviving grandchild to Frank, and since Jess was an only child, that left just one conclusion. So where was the mother, Hannah wondered. She hadn’t heard anything about a surviving daughter-in-law. Could Jess be divorced? Widowed?

That’s none of your business, Hannah, she hastily scolded herself. A man like Jess would never be her business. She was awkward, shy, just plain old unattractive. If a man did happen to look at her twice, it was for all the wrong reasons. She’d learned that the hard way.

Jess threw his jacket at the end of a grungy plaid couch, then pushed his fingers wearily through his damp hair. He hated this damn house, he thought as he glanced around the small, cluttered room. It reminded him of the isolated, pitiful life his father had led.

Frank had spent most of his time sitting in this dusty old house. Drinking. Grieving over a woman who’d walked out on him and his small son years before. After Jess had grown into a young man, he’d often tried to reach out to his father, to try to help him get past the torment that made him reach for a bottle too often. But Jess had never been able to make his father see what he was doing to himself. He’d continued on a downward spiral, until finally the alcohol had taken him over completely. These past ten years, Frank had rarely been sober.

No woman was worth it, Jess told himself bitterly. There wasn’t a woman on this earth who could ever move him to drink himself to addiction, to give up on life.

Sighing, he took a seat on the couch. “Come here, son. Let’s get you out of that wet jacket.”

“I’m hungry, Daddy,” Daniel said as he obediently sidled up to his father.

“I know you are. I’ll see what I can find in the kitchen in a few minutes. Why don’t you go to the bathroom and wash your hands.”

The dark-headed boy looked at his father. “My hands aren’t dirty. See?”

He held up his small hands for inspection and Jess shook his head.

“How do you know they aren’t dirty?” Jess asked.

Daniel tilted his head to one side as though his father’s question didn’t make sense at all. “Because you can’t see it.”

Normally, Jess found his son’s logical, nearly four-year-old mind amusing, but today he could hardly force a smile on his face. Even though Jess had been expecting it, the death of his father had shattered him. Not that they were close. It was hard to be close to a man who was more concerned with drowning his sorrows in a bottle than being with his son. Still, he’d loved his father. Alcoholic or not, he was going to miss him terribly.

He looked accusingly at Betty Malone’s photo still sitting atop the dusty television. Women were to be enjoyed by man, not cherished. At least Jess knew that, even though his father had never learned it.

“Some kinds of dirt you can’t see,” Jess said. “So you’d better go wash to make sure.”

Daniel frowned but didn’t argue the point. Instead, he scampered off toward the bathroom, making zooming noises all the way.

Jess leaned back against the couch and let his gaze drift once again to the picture of his mother. He’d never really known the woman. She’d left him and his father long before Jess was old enough to build memories of her. It would be the same with his own son, he realized with a pang of bitter resentment. Michelle, Daniel’s mother, had skipped out on them as soon as she was able to leave the hospital.

It wasn’t the way Jess had planned or hoped it to be. Early in their relationship, Michelle had insisted she loved him, and when she’d unexpectedly gotten pregnant, Jess had wanted to marry her. He’d wanted her, himself and the baby to be a family. But Michelle had balked at making such a big commitment. It had been all he could do to talk Michelle out of an abortion.

His mouth twisted with the memory. He’d hoped that Michelle would change as her pregnancy advanced. That her mothering instinct would kick in. It hadn’t. She’d resented the nausea, the weight gain, the sheer confinement of her condition. By the time she’d gone through the pain of giving birth, she’d told Jess she was leaving. She didn’t want to be a mother. So she’d gone, leaving Jess with a newborn and a hard-learned lesson.

But that had happened almost four years ago. He’d put Michelle and her irresponsibility behind him. Daniel was happy and healthy and Jess was going to make sure that he stayed that way. He was determined to see that the boy didn’t grow up feeling as unloved and unwanted as Jess had. No matter that the only family they had was each other.

Rising and entering the kitchen, Jess started to put a sandwich together for Daniel when a knock sounded on the front door. He went to answer it, Daniel following closely on his heels.

“Hello, Jess.”

Jess stared at the woman standing on the small slab of concrete outside the door. He’d expected it to be one of his father’s old cronies. Not Hannah.

“May I…come in?” she asked hesitantly.

Jess noticed a swathe of color flooding her cheeks as she spoke. Apparently, this woman was still as shy as she’d been back in high school. It only made him wonder how she’d summoned enough courage to come over here.

He pushed open the screen door, then stood aside to allow her entry. “It’s been a long time. I almost didn’t recognize you at the cemetery.”

Because he’d been too busy looking at her legs, he thought with self-disgust. What was the matter with him, anyway? Ogling a woman at his father’s graveside! What had the worry and strain he’d been through the past few days done to him?

Hannah found it hard to believe that Jess hadn’t immediately recognized her. She looked exactly as she had in high school, just a little older. But then, Jess Malone had rarely ever glanced her way. She’d been quiet and awkward then, too. Nothing like the sort that had interested him.

“You do remember that my name is Hannah?”

“Yes. I remember.” Even though she’d lived across the street from him and they’d gone to the same school, Hannah Dunbar had never really crossed his mind after he’d left Lordsburg. He almost felt guilty about that, though he couldn’t understand why.

He turned back to her and Hannah very nearly gasped. He seemed so big now that she was in the house and standing only a foot away from him. Her heart fluttered as she looked up at his dark face.

“I—noticed that no one—” She swallowed and started again. “I thought you might enjoy some coffee and cake.” She thrust a thermos and a foil-wrapped package at him.

Jess’s first instinct was to tell her he wasn’t the least bit hungry. He wasn’t in the mood to visit with anyone. But as his gaze connected with her liquid gray eyes, he stopped himself. She looked like a skittish doe, ready to bolt at his slightest move. Was she afraid of him? Surely not. More than likely she was afraid he would refuse her offer of sympathy.

He took the thermos and package from her and it was then that Hannah noticed the boy standing a few steps away. His forefinger in his mouth, he was carefully studying her. She smiled at him, her love for children automatically brightening her face.

“Hello,” she said, holding her hand out to him.

The child immediately came to her. “My name is Daniel Malone,” he told Hannah proudly.

She shook Daniel’s hand in grown-up fashion, which, by the look on his little round face, obviously impressed him. “It’s nice to meet you, Daniel,” she said, then looked at Jess.

“Would you like to join us, Hannah? I was just making Daniel a sandwich.”

Join them? All sorts of thoughts ran through Hannah’s head as her gaze skittered over Jess’s face. This morning, she hadn’t really planned to do more than attend Frank Malone’s funeral. She hadn’t thought it prudent to come over to the Malone house and offer her condolences to Jess and his son in person. But as she’d waited for her coffee to brew, she’d looked out the living-room window and noticed that not one car was sitting in the driveway to the old house. The man had just lost his father, and it looked as though no one cared. She didn’t like to think of anyone so alone. Not even an outlaw like Jess Malone.

“Well, I suppose I could. Mrs. Rodriguez gave me the rest of the afternoon off. She runs the child day-care center I work for.”

Jess motioned his head toward an open doorway just behind them. “The kitchen is through here.”

Hannah followed him, glancing tentatively around her as she did. The house was in bad shape. There was no other way to put it. She wondered what Jess thought about the place, then wondered even more how he’d felt about his alcoholic father.

In the kitchen, Daniel climbed upon a chair and scooted eagerly up to the table. Jess set down the thermos and package, then reached to help Hannah off with her raincoat.

She’d never had a man help her with such a personal task. Hannah felt heat flush her face as his hands lightly brushed her shoulders.

“I’m—sorry about your father,” she said quietly, not really knowing what to say to this man who’d rarely spoken to her during the years he’d lived in Lordsburg.

At that moment, Jess realized she was the first person who’d said that to him and really meant it. A few of the border patrolmen who worked with him back in Douglas had mouthed the words. But they hadn’t known Frank Malone and they’d merely expressed sympathy out of courtesy. He had a feeling Hannah was too reserved to bother saying something she didn’t mean.

“I am, too, Hannah.” In fact, he was sorry about a lot of things, he thought wearily.

He pulled out a chair for her, and Hannah dropped gracefully into it.

“I have to confess I hadn’t seen your father in several months. The last time I tried to visit with him—well, he was—”

“Drunk?” he asked, one dark eyebrow arched mockingly at her embarrassed face.

Nodding, she shifted uncomfortably on the wooden chair. “I was going to say inebriated.”

“A different word doesn’t make it any less ugly,” Jess told her.

Bitterness laced his words, making Hannah feel even more awkward. She’d been crazy to think she could offer a man like Jess Malone any sort of sympathy. He’d been around and she’d been nowhere. What could she say to him that might help or make a difference?

He set a sandwich and a glass of milk in front of Daniel. “There you go, sport,” he told the boy. “We’ll have a big supper tonight.”

“Pizza,” Daniel said hopefully.

Jess shook his head. “No. Not pizza. You’d eat that stuff three times a day if I’d let you.”

Watching Jess and the child, Hannah once again wondered about Daniel’s mother. Where was she? Or had Jess simply adopted a child on his own? She quickly discounted that notion with a mental shake of her head. Daniel resembled Jess very closely. He had the same dark hair and green eyes. Even the dimple in his left cheek was a carbon copy of Jess’s.

After setting two thick coffee cups on the small chrome and Formica table, Jess opened the thermos Hannah had given him.

She watched him pour out the hot drink before she ventured to speak. “You know, alcoholism is ugly but you need to remember it’s an illness,” she said quietly.

“Yeah. An illness,” he said, his voice rough with emotion.

Hannah watched him keenly as he took a seat beside Daniel and directly across from her. The pain on his face was at complete odds with the tough-guy image of him she’d always held in her mind.

He pushed one of the cups across the table to her. “The old man should have been strong enough to overcome it,” he went on after a minute.

Hannah took a sip of the coffee, then decided she might as well be frank. That was often the best way to help a person. “Perhaps you should have been strong enough to help him.”

Jess stared at her. Where did this timid woman get off saying such a thing to him? “Me strong enough! You think I didn’t try to get my father off the booze? Let me tell you, Hannah Dunbar, I tried to help him. My father didn’t want to be helped!”

She looked at him, her gray eyes full of compassion. “Then you have nothing to feel guilty about.”

Jess couldn’t believe this woman. How had she known he’d been feeling guilty about his father’s death? And how had she found the nerve to tell him so? During high school, he couldn’t remember her saying much to anyone, and when she’d spoken to him, he figured that was because they were neighbors. Mostly, she’d been a loner with her nose constantly stuck in a book.

“What did you do after we got out of high school, become a part-time psychologist?”

Hannah’s spine stiffened at his mocking question. Maybe she hadn’t gone places and maybe she did still live in the same little stucco house she’d shared with her mother. That didn’t mean she wanted to be insulted by the likes of him!

“Hardly,” she said crisply.

“This was my grandpa’s house,” Daniel spoke up, interrupting the tension between the two adults. “He was old and sick. But I wish he was here.”

Hannah’s heart went out to the child who was still too small to understand what losing a loved one was all about. She longed to move around the table and hold him in her arms.

“Yes, I wish he was here, too,” Hannah agreed softly, then offered him a smile. “How old are you, Daniel?”

He held up three fingers. “Daddy says I’ll be four soon.”

“February,” Jess told Hannah with an indulgent grin for his son.

“That old!” Hannah exclaimed, always finding it easy to talk to children. “Why, you’ll be in school soon.”

“I can say my ABCs already,” Daniel told her between gulps of milk. “And I can count, too!”

“Really? You must be a smart little boy,” Hannah said.

His head bobbed up and down with childlike conceit. “I am. Wanna hear me count?”

Jess looked at his son with mild surprise. He’d never seen him open up to a stranger like this. Especially a woman. “Not now, Daniel. Eat your sandwich and let Hannah drink her coffee.”

Hannah gave Daniel a conspiratorial wink, then reached for the small loaf of pumpkin bread she’d carefully wrapped in aluminum foil. “If you’ll fetch me a knife,” she told Jess, “I’ll slice this for us.”

He got up from his seat and rummaged around in a cabinet drawer. With his back presented to her, Hannah took the liberty of looking at him. A white shirt with navy blue pinstripes covered his broad shoulders. It was tucked into a pair of dark trousers and Hannah couldn’t help but notice his trim waist and firmly muscled hips.

Jess Malone was certainly good to look at, she decided. But that didn’t mean a whole lot to her. Hannah wasn’t one to admire men. The one time she had—well, that was an experience Hannah wished with all her might that she could forget.

Jess returned to the table with a small paring knife and offered it to her. Hannah thanked him and quickly sliced off two thick pieces of the sweet, nut-filled bread. When she glanced inquiringly at Daniel, Jess nodded, so she cut a piece for the boy, too.

“You’re probably thinking I haven’t accomplished much since we graduated high school. I mean—me working in a day-care center.”

Jess glanced at her fine-boned hands as she cut the dessert. There was no wedding ring on her finger, which didn’t surprise him. He imagined Hannah Dunbar was just as virginal now as she had been fifteen years ago. He would have found that idea amusing back then. Now it both saddened and intrigued him. No person should be that alone, he thought.

“I wasn’t thinking that at all. In fact, I admire anyone that works with children,” he said, his eyes moving from her hands to the thrust of her small bosom, then finally to her face. Hannah Dunbar was far from ugly. In fact, he figured she could be a looker if she’d let her hair loose and throw away that matronly dress she was hiding behind.

That idea had his thoughts going one step further and his gaze made a slow appraisal of her slender figure. What would Hannah look like without that dark print dress that buttoned tightly at her throat?

Jess mentally shook his head, wondering again where these strange thoughts were coming from. What was it about this woman that kept turning his mind to sex?

“Well, I could understand if you had been thinking that about me,” she said with a sigh. “I haven’t been anywhere but here in Lordsburg since we graduated.”

Her gaze connected with his as she handed him a slice of pumpkin bread, and in that moment it dawned on her that she’d never seen such green eyes on a man before. They were moss green, deep and clear, and very disarming.

You don’t admire men, she quickly reminded herself, especially their eyes. So why are you looking at Jess’s? Hannah couldn’t answer that question. She only knew there was something about the bad boy in him that had always intrigued her. She could admit that much to herself, but no one else. She likened the weakness to Eve’s fascination for the Serpent.

“Staying in one place isn’t a crime,” he said, then eased back in his chair. “I don’t suppose you ever married?”

Jess took a bite of the bread. As he chewed and waited for her to answer, his eyes slowly studied her face.

She shook her head. “No. I guess I just turned out not to be the marrying sort.”

Hannah watched his eyebrows move slightly upward, indicating her words had surprised him.

“You never did like guys very much, did you?” he asked casually.

Did he honestly think that was the reason she hadn’t married? Because she didn’t like men? Dear Lord, if he only knew how many years she’d dreamed that some good man would ask her to be his wife. But it had never happened and it hurt too much to ever tell him such a thing.

Lifting her chin, she said, “I never liked them as much as you seemed to like women.”

To her surprise, he threw back his head and laughed. “Apparently, my old reputation is still alive in Lordsburg.”

Color flooded Hannah’s cheeks and she quickly looked away. Where was all this stuff coming from? How could she be saying such things to him? Just because she remembered a wild, teenage boy by the name of Jess Malone didn’t mean she knew the man across from her.

Clearing her throat, she said, “I don’t know why I—I shouldn’t have said that.” Still unable to look at him, she grabbed her coffee and took a quick gulp.

“So you work at a day-care center. Do you like it?”

She glanced at him, wondering if he was actually curious or if he was merely trying to keep the conversation going. He smiled at her and a funny little feeling unfurled in her midsection.

“Yes, I do. I used to have a job keeping books for a local insurance man. But I like working with children a lot better. And it’s something that didn’t require I get a college education.”

Hannah didn’t go on to tell him that children showed her unconditional love and affection, something her lonely heart craved. The last thing she wanted was for Jess Malone to feel sorry for her.

“It surprises me that you didn’t leave here to go to college,” Jess said. “In school, I remember you always had a book in front of your face and you nearly always made the highest grades.”

The fact that he had any memories of her at all warmed Hannah. During those years at school, boys had looked through or around her as though she were invisible. Except for Jess. He’d been the only one who’d taken the time to speak to her now and then. Hannah had never known why. In her teenage heart, she’d wanted to think it was because he’d liked her. But now, after all these years, she figured it was because he was the only boy confident enough in himself to speak to a girl like her. He’d never worried about his reputation. He’d pretty much done and said what he pleased and no one would have dared to suggest he do otherwise.

Oh, yes, Jess had been something back then, she thought. And from what she could see now, he still was.

“I used to think you’d end up like one of those women we had to read about in history class,” Jess went on when she didn’t say anything. “Like Madame Curie, or somebody like that.”

A shy smile curved her lips as she glanced across the table at him. “I was a simple girl. I still am.”

Not really wanting to say more, Hannah turned her attention to Daniel, who was nearly finished with his sandwich.

Jess took a drink of his coffee and quietly studied her from the corner of his eye. He doubted the day-care job paid her very much. But then, Hannah probably didn’t have many wants beyond the basic necessities. Maybe that explained her lack of motivation to go on to college, Jess thought.

Obviously, Hannah was far from the glamorous, socializing type who wanted to spend money on sexy dresses and lingerie, perfume and weekly visits to the beauty salon. The fact that she was still living in this desert town, in the same run-down stucco house she’d lived in with her mother, told him more about her than she could have told him herself.

“How is your mother doing these days?”

Hannah looked at him, and it dawned on her that he really had lost all contact with this place. “She died a little over a year ago.”

Jess didn’t know what to say. He hadn’t known that Rita Dunbar had died.

“I didn’t know,” he said quietly.

Looking down at her coffee cup, Hannah shook her head. “No. With your living away, you couldn’t have known. Besides, Mother was—”

With a small shake of her head, she broke off, as though speaking of her mother was anything but easy. Jess was surprised at the pang of compassion shooting through him. For years, it had been rumored that Hannah’s mother once worked in El Paso as a lady of the evening and as far as Jess knew, Rita had never denied it. He remembered how everyone in Lordsburg had been watching Hannah, expecting her to follow in her mother’s illicit footsteps. It was no wonder, he thought, that she’d gone to such extremes to be as unlike Rita as she could be.

“What happened?”

Hannah said, “She died from heart complications.”

Jess frowned. “So she’d been ill?”

Hannah looked at him with the realization that he hadn’t known about her mother. “She was partially paralyzed. I think being immobilized for so long contributed to her heart disease.”

He slowly shook his head. It was hard to imagine Hannah’s beautiful, vibrant mother being confined to a wheelchair, or even a pair of crutches.

“What happened?” he asked. “I mean, how did she become disabled?”

Hannah’s voice was quiet and matter-of-fact. “She was in a car accident about a year after you left Lordsburg.”

That had been fourteen years ago! No wonder Hannah was still in this town, Jess thought. She’d stayed because of her mother.

The information had him looking at her in a totally different light. “My father wasn’t one to talk much. He never gave me the news about what was going on around here. I’m sorry I didn’t know.”

The sincerity on his face touched her. More than she cared to admit. Strange, she thought, how she’d come over here to offer her condolences and had wound up talking about her own loss.

A sad little smile suddenly clouded her features. “So you see,” she told him, “I know what you’re going through now.”

Maybe she did, Jess silently acknowledged. Only her mother hadn’t chosen to die like his father, who’d slowly poisoned himself with alcohol.

Hannah pushed back her chair and rose to her feet. “Well, I really must go and I’m sure you have lots of things you need to do.”

Jess rose, too, surprised at the faint sense of disappointment running through him. Spinster or not, for a few minutes she’d managed to take his mind off the fact that his father was really gone. He could have talked to her longer. About what, he didn’t know. They had nothing in common except they’d both been raised hard in this desert town and both had lost their only parent.

Taking her coat from the back of the chair, Jess helped her into it. As he stood close behind her, he caught a subtle scent of lavender on her hair and skin. It reminded him she was a woman and told him that she wasn’t totally without vanity as he’d first imagined.

As soon as Hannah felt his hands leave her shoulders, she stepped away from him and struggled to keep a hot blush from spreading over her face. It shook her to have him so close to her. Men didn’t touch her. And to have one like Jess do so, even in a casual way, was very disturbing.

Walking around to Daniel, she passed her fingers gently over the top of his dark head. “I’m glad we met, Daniel. Perhaps before you and your father go home, you can come over and do that counting for me. I have a bird and a cat. You might like to see them, too.”

Daniel perked up and looked eagerly at his father. “Can I, Daddy? Can I go see Hannah’s house?”

“Maybe. If we have time,” Jess told him.

She told Daniel goodbye, then walked out of the kitchen. Jess walked close behind her.

“Thank you for the cake and coffee, Hannah. It was thoughtful of you,” he said.

Pausing, she turned to him. “I wanted to do it,” she explained simply.

“Not many people—” He stopped, looked away from her, then swallowed as the utter loss of his father swept over him once again. “When my father became a recluse, he lost touch with everybody around here. I’m glad you remembered him.”

He looked at her then and Hannah was surprised at the ache of grief she felt for him. “Like I said, I wanted to do it, Jess. And if you…need my help for anything, let me know. I go to the cemetery quite often, so I’ll keep an eye on your father’s grave for you…if you’d like.”

Once again, he was struck by her genuine kindness. There weren’t too many people like her left in the world. People who did things for others simply out of the goodness of their hearts and not for something in return.

“I’d appreciate that very much,” he said, feeling more awkward than he could ever remember. He’d never been around a woman like Hannah before and he wasn’t quite sure that he’d behaved as he should have. But what the hell, he’d be leaving in a couple of days. He’d more than likely never see Hannah again. Besides, when had it ever mattered to him what a woman thought about his manners? Women were something to be enjoyed, not worried over, he reminded himself.

She reached out her hand. He extended his and she quickly shook it. “Goodbye, Jess,” she said, her eyes shyly skittering away from his. “And good luck to you.”

“Goodbye, Hannah.”

She turned to continue toward the living room. Jess took a step after her. “I’ll see you out,” he said.

She shook her head. “No. That’s not necessary. Enjoy your coffee.”

Jess stood and watched her go on out the door. What a strange visit, he thought. And how different Hannah Dunbar was from the vague memories he had of the pale, skinny girl who sat alone in the school cafeteria and ate her lunch out of a brown paper bag. The girl he’d sometimes winked at just to see her blush.

The memory caused a corner of his mouth to curve into a wan smile. Maybe he remembered more about Hannah Dunbar then he realized.

Chapter Two

By nightfall the rain had stopped. Jess took Daniel to a nearby café where home-cooked meals were served smorgasbord-style. Jess was glad to see Daniel hungry and eating his fried chicken and accompanying vegetables. He’d been afraid the trip up here and the ordeal of the funeral might have upset Daniel, but thankfully his son seemed to be taking it all in stride.

They had ice cream for dessert, then Jess, deciding neither he nor Daniel was ready to go back to the old house just yet, drove the two of them out on the interstate for a few miles. The desert highway was more or less empty, other than a freight train headed west. Stopped at the railroad crossing, Daniel watched the long line of cars until it disappeared into the far darkness. After that, Jess turned their truck back toward Lordsburg. He still had a lot of things in his father’s house he needed to go through and the sooner he could get it done and over with, the better he’d like it.

“Can we go to Hannah’s house now?” Daniel asked, breaking into his father’s dismal thoughts.

Surprised by the request, Jess looked at his son. “You must have really liked Hannah,” he said.

Daniel nodded. “She was nice.”

“You think so, huh. Well, I think she thought you were nice, too.”

Daniel bounced his legs up and down on the vinyl seat. “I wish Hannah could be my mommy.”

Jess very nearly slammed on the brakes. “You what!”

“I wish she could be my mommy,” Daniel repeated with exaggerated patience. “You know I don’t have one.”

Jess let out a weary breath. Oh, do I ever know it, he thought guiltily. “I know you want a mommy, son. But I—” He stopped midsentence and glanced curiously at Daniel. “Why do you wish Hannah could be your mommy?”

The little boy shrugged one shoulder, then the other. “Just because. Because she’s nice. And she smells good. And she’s pretty.”

So Daniel thought Hannah was pretty and he wanted her to be his mother. Jess couldn’t have been more shocked. Not because Daniel had asked outright for a mother. He’d been hounding Jess for some time now on the subject. But he’d never gone so far as to pick out a specific woman for the role. And Hannah was very different from any of the women Daniel had been around, including Louise, the woman who’d been his baby-sitter since the child’s infancy. What was it about Hannah that had prompted Daniel to say such things?

“Well…I guess that is true,” Jess began slowly, knowing if he didn’t say something soon, Daniel would start to question him. “Hannah is nice and pretty.” Jess had never thought of her as pretty, but through the eyes of a child, people often looked different. And now that he thought about it, he had to admit that there was something about her that stirred him, too. Something soft and feminine and even sexy. “But I really doubt she wants to be a mommy.”

“Why?”

Jess stifled a sigh. He should have been expecting that. “Why? Well, she’s not married. And only married ladies want to be mommies.”

“Then you could marry her, Daddy. Louise says if you got married, I’d get a mommy.”

Jess silently cursed the older woman for opening her mouth about such things to Daniel. And how on earth could a boy who wasn’t quite four yet remember such a thing?

“Well, that’s true,” Jess was forced to agree. “But I don’t want to get married.”

Daniel folded his little arms across his chest and pushed out his lower lip. Jess braced himself for the whining and pleading to come. But after one, then three, then five miles passed and Daniel remained stubbornly quiet, Jess ventured a hopeful look at his son.

“We’re still buddies, aren’t we?”

“Yeah,” Daniel said, but without much enthusiasm.

“You haven’t forgotten that we’re going to that baseball game when we get home. Tracie and Dwight will be there.”

Jess’s friend, Dwight, was also a fellow border patrolman and Tracie was his wife. Since they didn’t have any children yet, the couple doted on Daniel. And Daniel was crazy about them. But tonight, the mention of their names only brought a glum nod from Daniel.

After that, Jess decided the best thing to do was let the matter drop. In a few days, when Daniel was back at home with Louise, he’d forget all about this thing with Hannah. Jess couldn’t start worrying and fretting just because Daniel thought he wanted one certain woman to be his mother.

He wasn’t going to worry, Jess muttered to himself as he turned the truck down a residential street. Who was he kidding? He worried about Daniel all the time. He was constantly asking himself if he was doing the right things for his son, spending enough time with him, teaching him what he should know and more than anything, giving him the love he knew the child needed.

A kid needed love from two parents. Jess knew that better than anyone. So he made an extra effort to give his son his time and his affection. But that was hard to do when his job demanded he work long hours. And in two weeks, Louise was moving to Tucson to live with her sister.

Two weeks? No, it was less than two weeks now, he realized. That’s how long he had to find some kind, gentle, trustworthy woman to take care of his son. Lord, how was he going to do it? It had been so easy with Louise. She lived right next door to him. She was always home and available to keep Daniel at any hour Jess called upon her. He didn’t have to be told that it was going to be nearly impossible to find someone to replace her.

Daniel wants a mother. Yeah, he probably did, Jess answered the voice inside him. Not probably, he did want a mother, Jess corrected himself. But Daniel needed to learn he couldn’t go around picking a woman to be his mother just because she was nice and smelled good. Besides that, Jess wasn’t about to let some woman tie him up in emotional knots again. And he sure as hell wasn’t going to let one into Daniel’s life, then have her tear his heart apart by leaving. No way. It was better for him not to have a mother at all than to have one who would skip out on them when the going got rough.

A few moments later, Jess pulled into the driveway of his father’s house. He and Daniel climbed out of the truck and started walking over to the porch. Lord, the place looked bleak. This was the place Jess had once called home, but now it seemed not much more than a run-down piece of real estate. A big part of the stucco was eroding, leaving shallow pits and holes in the outside walls of the house. The gables hadn’t seen paint in years, and the yard, what little there was of it, was nothing more than sand with a few clumps of sage and grama grass growing here and there. Looking the way it did, he knew it was going to be hard to sell the property.

Jess glanced over his shoulder at Hannah’s house. A couple of lights were on behind the lace curtains at the windows and Jess wondered what she did in her spare time. What would he find her doing if he went over there right now?

The question left him grunting with amusement. Whatever it was, he’d bet it wasn’t entertaining a man.

He unlocked the door, but before he pushed it open, he glanced over at Hannah’s once again. Daniel was right in one respect, he thought. Someone like her was just what he needed to take Louise’s place. He’d bet his life that Hannah would be dependable. She probably never raised her voice, and judging by the sweet bread she’d brought over today, she could obviously cook, so Daniel wouldn’t constantly be fed snack foods. Too bad she lived in Lordsburg instead of Douglas, he thought.

Hannah couldn’t sleep and she didn’t know why. She’d read for hours, drank herbal tea and watched a boring late-night talk show on TV, but she was still wide-awake.

She blamed her restlessness on Frank Malone’s funeral. She hated funerals. But then, who didn’t? However, she’d especially hated this one because it had reminded her of her mother’s funeral; only a handful of mourners there, no family except one lonely offspring.

Poor Jess. She hurt for him because she knew how alone he must be feeling. And poor little Daniel. He would grow up without his grandfather.

As if the lights across the street were beckoning her, Hannah walked over to the picture window and looked out. Jess was still up. Though she couldn’t detect him through the curtainless windows, she could see parts of the cluttered living room. What was he doing at this hour? It was after two in the morning.

Was he so upset over his father’s passing, he couldn’t rest? Hannah hated to think so. Although his son was with him, he was more or less alone and she wondered why. Surely he had someone to whom he was close. Someone who could have come along with him for emotional support.

For the umpteenth time, Hannah wondered if Jess was married. After all, he had a son. True, a man didn’t have to be married to have a son, she quickly reminded herself. But there had to be a woman somewhere, she rationalized. So where was she? Back at home, taking care of other obligations?

That idea made Hannah snort with disapproval. If that was the case, Jess Malone didn’t have himself much of a wife or lover. Now if Hannah were married to Jess, she would have never let him and Daniel come here on their own to deal with their loved one’s death.

Lord have mercy, she was losing it, Hannah thought with a self-deprecating shake of her head. Imagining herself as Jess Malone’s wife and Daniel’s mother! She’d never be married. Much less to a man like him!

The knock at the door had Hannah bolting straight up out of a dead sleep. Her heart beating wildly in her chest, she glanced around, disoriented, until she finally realized she’d fallen asleep sometime early this morning on the living-room couch.

The knock came again. Louder this time.

Hannah wrapped the white plissé robe more tightly around her and hurried to answer the door. When she opened it and saw that the caller was Jess Malone, she very nearly gasped out loud.

“Jess. Is—uh—is something wrong?” Her eyes darted quickly downward at Daniel, who was clinging to his father’s hand and smiling broadly up at her.

Jess stared at Hannah. He hadn’t expected to wake her at this hour. It was eight-thirty. He’d figured she was an early riser, even on Saturdays. But it was obvious from her appearance that he’d woken her. She looked different. Very different with her long red hair down and curling wildly around her face and shoulders. Although she was holding the robe tightly together at her throat for modesty’s sake, Jess couldn’t help but notice the way the white material was stretched against her breasts, outlining their feminine shape. Pure male attraction surged through him, blotting out that part of his brain that was telling him to quit staring.

“Uh—no. We were just—” he thrust the empty thermos bottle at her “—returning your thermos.”

“Oh, I’d forgotten,” she said, then quickly added, “But there was no need for you to bother.”

The early-morning breeze caught at her hair and blew it in her face. One of her hands let go of the robe to push it back, allowing the fabric to fall away and expose the smooth skin of her throat.

Needing no further invitation, Jess’s eyes slid downward, hoping the wind would do what his fingers were itching to do. Part the robe even more and expose the creamy swell of her breasts.

She blushed furiously as she noticed Jess looking at her. Suddenly, he felt ridiculous because she’d caught him staring. Dear God, he was in trouble when he started fantasizing about a thirty-three-year-old spinster!

“It’s—not a bother,” he said while inwardly wishing he could kick himself.

Edging behind the doorjamb as much as she could, Hannah said, “I was just waking up. Have you two had breakfast yet?”

Jess shook his head. “We were headed down to McKay’s. Would you like to join us?”

Join them! The last time a man had invited her to go out with him had been years ago. And that invitation had been from a man she should have never trusted. But she had, and in the end she’d regretted it. Since that time, she’d avoided men like the plague. If she suddenly showed up at McKay’s with Jess Malone and his son, she’d very likely put the whole town into shock.

“That’s very nice of you, Jess. But I—it would take too long to get ready.”

It was just as well, he thought. He’d only invited her on a crazy impulse, anyway, thinking it would please Daniel to have her company during breakfast. And him, too. Damn it!

“McKay’s isn’t fancy,” he said, trying again. “Just go throw on some jeans. I’ll wait for you.”

He was serious, Hannah realized, her heart hammering heavily behind her breast.

“I don’t know—if I should,” she stammered, a part of her hungering for a chance to act like any normal woman, while the other part was terrified because she didn’t know how.

Jess didn’t know why he was patiently standing here waiting for her answer when she was acting as though he’d just asked her to go to bed with him instead of to share breakfast with him. What could she be worried about? Daniel would be with them.

“Hellfire, Hannah Dunbar! You act like you’ve never had a man invite you out to breakfast before. Either you want to go, or you don’t. Which is it?”

She hadn’t been invited out to breakfast before. But she could hardly tell him that. If possible, her creamy white complexion grew even redder at the thought. “I—do.”

She pushed the screen door open wide and stood back to allow them entry. “Please come in while I change. I’ll hurry.”

Jess guessed she would hurry. By the time he and Daniel had stepped inside the house, she was scurrying quickly down the hallway, the white robe flapping against her long, slender legs.

Daniel moved away from his father and looked curiously around the room.

“Don’t touch anything,” Jess instructed as he, too, glanced around the living room, which was filled with antique furniture dating back to the forties. It was all very womanly, he decided as he took in books, flowers and candles scattered randomly around the room, but it wasn’t fussy. In fact, it was much homier than his living room back home in Douglas.

“Wow! There’s a bird!”

Jess turned around to see Daniel racing over to a bird cage by the picture window.

“He’s pretty! Look how pretty he is, Daddy,” Daniel exclaimed as he stood admiring a white cockatoo.

“Don’t get too close,” Jess warned. “He might want your nose for breakfast.”

Giggling loudly, Daniel covered his nose with both hands. “He won’t get my nose. I’ll keep it covered.”

Back in the bedroom, Hannah’s hands shook as she fastened the buttons on her dress. It was a pink shirtwaist with elbow-length sleeves. Nothing special. But Hannah didn’t own anything special, and as for him telling her to throw on jeans, she’d almost laughed. She didn’t own a pair of jeans! Those things were for chic young girls who wanted to show off their sexy bodies. Did he really think she could wear them?

“I was wondering,” his voice came to her from the living room, “if you knew some church or charity that I could give my father’s things to. I stayed up last night packing them. Now all I need to do is load them into the truck.”

“Uh…yes,” she called loudly back to him. “I do know a place. The church I attend would welcome anything you have to give. I’ll show you where it is after we eat.”

She pushed her feet into a pair of white flats, then quickly knotted her hair at the back of her head and secured it with bobby pins. She looked dowdy. But that was nothing new. She’d always been less than pretty and felt it would be foolish of her to ever think she could be. She wasn’t like her mother, who’d been young-looking and glamorous right up until the day she’d had the car accident.

Jess, who’d been watching the cockatoo with Daniel, turned when he heard Hannah’s footsteps.

She smiled tentatively at him. “I’m ready,” she said, hoping he’d put her breathlessness down to hurrying.

She had looked far better in the robe with her hair flying around her shoulders, but Jess could hardly tell her something like that. Especially when Daniel was staring at her as though she were a gift from heaven.

“Good, I hope you’re as hungry as we are,” he said.

“I’m gonna eat pancakes,” Daniel said to Hannah as the three of them traveled the short distance to the café.

She smiled at the boy, finding his dimpled grin as charming as his daddy’s. “Oh, that sounds good,” she told him. “Are you going to eat yours with blueberries or without?”

Daniel made a face and stuck out his tongue. “Yuk! Not blueberries.”

Jess glanced over at Hannah, who was sitting as close as she could possibly get to the passenger door. “I think my cooking has ruined Daniel on blueberry pancakes. They didn’t turn out too good.”

“They were lumpy and burnt,” Daniel reminded him.

Hannah laughed and the warm, tinkling sound washed over Jess and lifted his heavy spirits.

“You don’t remember that!” Jess joshed his son.

“Yes, I do,” Daniel insisted.

Jess chuckled. “Okay, so you do. Just don’t go telling Hannah anything else about my cooking. Okay?”

Daniel giggled and Hannah glanced over at father and son. If Jess did the cooking, maybe there wasn’t a woman in their lives, Hannah pondered.

Quit your wondering, Hannah quickly scolded herself. It was none of her business whether Jess had a wife or Daniel had a mother. She was merely an old acquaintance, someone who’d just happened to live across the street from Jess while they were growing up. Just because she was having breakfast with the man didn’t mean she was anything special to him.

But it did mean something special to Hannah. It had been so long since anyone, other than the women in her church group, had shown her friendship or invited her places.

Looking out the window beside her, she thought back to how many times as a young teenager, she’d imagined herself riding down the street with Jess Malone. The tough, devilishly handsome bad boy that every girl wanted—even the good girls.

Now, here Hannah was, fifteen years later, doing just what she’d once imagined. But why? And where were all those other willing girls? Why was she here in this truck with him and Daniel, instead?

The café was very full, but Jess managed to find an empty booth in the back. After they ordered, the waitress brought coffee, ice water and orange juice to the table. Jess pulled a drinking straw out of one of the glasses of water and stuck it in a glass of juice before handing it to Daniel.

“Do you like living here, Hannah?” Jess asked as he reached for his coffee.

Hannah, who was stirring cream into her coffee, glanced up at him. “Do I like it?” she repeated blankly, not sure what his question was about. “I suppose—I’ve never lived anywhere else.”

“Did you ever think about leaving?”

As her eyes glided over his handsome face, she decided she’d better not take in too much caffeine until their food arrived. She was as shaky as a leaf in a windstorm and looking at him only made it worse. “Not really. It wasn’t possible to leave while mother was alive and needed me.”

“But she doesn’t figure into the picture anymore.”

Shaking her head, she curled her hands around the coffee cup. “No. Mother no longer needs me to care for her. But I like my job here and the woman I work for.” Briefly, her eyes met his. “Why do you ask?”

Jess shrugged. Why was he asking? Just because he’d had that one wild notion about her and Daniel didn’t mean she’d ever consider such an idea. Or would she?

“Just curious. I live in Douglas, Arizona, now.”

“I heard someone say a long time ago that you lived in El Paso,” she said.

“I did. But I was transferred a few years ago.”

She didn’t ask him anything, but Jess could see that she wanted to.

“I work for the U.S. Border Patrol,” he said, volunteering the information.

“My daddy wears a gun and badge,” Daniel told her proudly. “But he won’t let me touch the gun ‘cause guns are too dangerous.”

That jolted Hannah. The last thing she’d expected Jess Malone to be was a lawman. Although Hannah should have known he wasn’t the type to sit behind a desk. No doubt a gun and uniform looked perfect on him. And the adventure of it all surely suited him. He seemed like a man who would always need excitement in his life.

“I didn’t know,” Hannah said to Jess. “Do you like it?”

He nodded, then frowned. “I’d like it if I didn’t have to worry about—” He stopped, then glanced at Daniel. Since the boy seemed to have his attention on another table where a couple of young children were breakfasting with their parents, Jess went on. “Leaving Daniel alone.”

Something clutched Hannah’s heart. “You…mean…like if you had a bad accident?”

Jess grimaced. “I guess that’s a nice way of putting it.”

“Your job is that dangerous?” she asked, not liking to think that he could possibly get hurt or even killed in the line of duty.

Shrugging, Jess lifted the coffee cup to his lips. “Sometimes. But I’m trained to handle myself, and I doubt my job puts me in any more danger than your average truck driver. Still, there are no guarantees in life and if something should happen to me—well, Daniel would be alone.”

Hannah let out a long breath. He was implying that Daniel didn’t have a mother! Could that be true?

Jess sipped his coffee, then lowered the cup to its saucer before he continued. He didn’t know why he was getting into all of this with Hannah. She was little more than a stranger. Yet something about her gentle face and shy smile encouraged him to confide in her.

“But I’ve got a more immediate problem,” he went on when she didn’t say anything. “Daniel’s baby-sitter is leaving in a week and a half. She’s an older lady and she’s decided to spend her retirement with her sister in Tucson. I can’t blame her for that. But I don’t know what I’m going to do without her. She’s helped me with Daniel from the time I first brought him home from the hospital.”

Confused and more curious now than ever, Hannah couldn’t stop herself from blurting out, “But what about Daniel’s mother? Does she have a job, too?”

The question brought a cynical snort from Jess. “I wouldn’t know. I haven’t seen her in nearly four years.”

Hannah gasped before she could stop it. “You haven’t? But why?”

He’d often told himself he was over Michelle’s desertion. But he hated to admit to anyone, much less another woman, that he and Daniel hadn’t been worth a backward glance to Michelle.

“She moved on.”

Hannah couldn’t have been more shocked. Even if a woman couldn’t get along with her husband, did that justify her leaving her newborn son? Hannah couldn’t imagine such a thing.

“Oh. I—I’m sorry.” Embarrassed by the whole thing, she took a quick, nervous gulp of coffee.

Jess shrugged. “There’s no need for you to be sorry, Hannah. We were never married. Michelle didn’t want that. She didn’t want to be tied down in any way.”

Hannah wanted to ask him why he’d involved himself with that sort of self-centered woman, but she stopped herself. She didn’t want to sound preachy. Besides, in Hannah’s eyes, he’d more than made up for the mistake by being a caring father to Daniel.

“Some people just can’t handle responsibility,” she said softly. “They don’t set out to intentionally hurt others. But they do.”

Jess was surprised by her words and her open-mindedness about the whole thing. But then, a lot about Hannah had surprised him.

Before anything else could be said, the waitress arrived with their breakfast. As they ate, Daniel became very talkative and Hannah took pains to answer his many questions. He was a bright, inquisitive boy for his age, and from his conversation, she could tell that Jess had obviously spent a great deal of time with him. That and just the fact that Jess had taken on the job of a single father surprised Hannah greatly. Remembering the teenage Jess Malone, she would have never figured him to be so responsible; he’d grown up. Oh, had he ever.

After the meal was over and the three of them were walking across the parking lot to Jess’s pickup, he said, “I feel like I’ve just come out from under a microscope. I think everyone in that place was looking when we walked out of there. You’d think I was a creature from Mars, or something.”

Hannah felt herself blushing. “I don’t think they were—uh, looking at you, Jess.”

He opened the pickup door. As Daniel climbed in, he glanced at Hannah. “What makes you say that?”

“Because I know they were looking at me.”

“You? You’re not a stranger around here. Probably everyone in that café knew you.”

Hannah felt the familiar hurt and embarrassment rise in her. “They did know me. That’s…uh…why they were looking. They’ve never seen me out with a man. I guess they were wondering what I was doing with you.” Or more likely, what Jess was doing inviting a woman like her out to breakfast, she silently added.

How utterly cruel, Jess thought. “It’s none of their damn business,” he said with a grimace.

She smiled wanly. “No. But I’ve had years to get used to being labeled the weird old maid.”

Hannah Dunbar was far from old and there wasn’t anything weird about her that he could see. Certainly reserved and shy, but not weird.

Deciding the best thing to do was treat the situation lightly, Jess gave her an impish wink. “Maybe they’ll think we spent the night together. That’ll cut your reputation to shreds.”

Of course he was teasing. Still, just the thought of being that intimate with Jess was enough to shake her. “I really think it would be your reputation that would suffer,” she tried to joke.

Not wanting her to feel any more awkward than she already did, Jess merely smiled and took her elbow to help her up into the seat. Her arm was small and soft and made him feel oddly protective. This woman was too vulnerable, he thought. And far too kind for her own good.

“Thank you for breakfast,” Hannah said when he pulled into her driveway. “It was very nice of you and Daniel to invite me.”

“Can I go in with Hannah?” Daniel quickly asked his father. “Can I go see the bird again?”

“May I go in,” Jess corrected him, then shook his head. “No. You may not go in. You’ve already talked Hannah’s leg off this morning.”

“Nonsense,” Hannah said as Daniel looked beseechingly up at her. “I won’t be doing anything but a little housecleaning. Let Daniel stay with me while you take your father’s things to the church.”

“You didn’t show me where it was,” Jess reminded her. “And I forgot to ask.”

“Oh. It’s the Catholic church on the south end of town. You probably remember it.”

Not from attending services, he thought, but rather from circling the old building on his motorcycle. Maybe things would have turned out differently for him if he’d been inside with Hannah, rather than outside giving Judy Mae Johnson a fast ride. Maybe he wouldn’t be a single father now. Or maybe Hannah wouldn’t be so virginal. That thought brought a curve to his lips and a dimple in his cheek.

“Yeah, I remember. What do I do with the things, once I get there?”

Hannah frowned as she tried to figure out what was putting such a devilish look on his face. They’d been talking about church, for Pete’s sake! But this was Jess Malone, she quickly reminded herself. The same guy who’d been accused of seducing his high-school English teacher.

Realizing she had yet to answer his question, Hannah said, “Just set them inside the front door. It’s never locked. Father Lopez or one of the other parishioners will find them.”

“What about me, Daddy?” Daniel said, tugging on Jess’s shirtsleeve. “Do I get to stay at Hannah’s?”

“Of course you can,” Hannah told the boy before Jess had a chance to protest. “Come on and we’ll feed Albert.”

“You’re sure about this?” Jess asked her while unbuckling Daniel’s seat belt. “I wouldn’t want either of us to be imposing on you.”

Hannah held her arms up to Daniel. The boy scrambled across the seat and straight to Hannah. She helped him down to the ground, then held on to his hand while glancing over to Jess.

“I’m happy for Daniel to visit. And don’t worry. I might not be a mother, but I do know how to take care of children.”

Jess wasn’t worried about that. He was more concerned about Daniel’s hanging his sights on having Hannah for a mother.

“I’m not worried,” he assured her, then started the truck and backed onto the street.

As he pulled away from the curb, he watched Hannah and Daniel walking hand in hand onto the porch. By the time they reached the door, Hannah was laughing and Daniel was grinning. So much for not worrying, Jess groaned to himself.

Chapter Three

For the next hour, Daniel talked nonstop. But Hannah was used to a child’s chatter. Indeed, she was far more comfortable communicating with children than adults—children appreciated her companionship. They didn’t expect her to look a certain way and they didn’t judge her because she wasn’t exactly like their mothers or sisters or aunts.

“I have a tricycle at home,” Daniel said as he followed Hannah around the huge old kitchen. “Daddy says it won’t be long ‘til I can have a bicycle.”

“Then you’ll be riding on two wheels instead of three,” Hannah said as she wiped the front of the refrigerator with a damp sponge.

“Why are you doing that?”

“To make it clean,” Hannah explained.

Daniel shook his head. “You’re just like my daddy. He makes me wash my hands even when you can’t see dirt.”

Hannah smiled to herself. “And do you always do what your daddy tells you to do?”

Daniel’s chin bobbed up and down. “Yes. ‘Cause I’m a good boy.”

Hannah squatted on her heels to wash the lower part of the appliance. “I’m sure that you are,” she agreed.

“Your hair looks like an apple.”

She’d been called carrot top before, but never an apple. “That’s because it’s red. Do you know what yours looks like?”

She glanced from her work to see Daniel’s hands plop on the top of his head.

“No. What does it look like?” he asked, his little face all grins.

“A piece of chocolate.”

He giggled loudly over that, then marched over to the kitchen table and sat down. At that moment, Hannah felt a terrible pang of regret. A child had never been in this house. Not much of anybody had been in this house. She hadn’t really wanted it that way. For a while after her mother’s accident, she thought, even hoped, that some man, a nice, kind man who would appreciate her, would come into her life, give her love and children. It had never happened. Now, after all these years, she knew it never would.

“Are you still hungry?” she asked him, while telling herself she was wrong in feeling a little bit sorry for herself.

“Nope. My daddy will be back soon and then I’ll have to leave.”

“Then maybe we should go outside and find Oscar before you have to go,” Hannah suggested.

Daniel eagerly agreed and followed Hannah out a door leading to the backyard. They found the gray tabby curled up on a ledge of brick surrounding a flower bed. While Daniel made friends with the cat, Hannah sat on the wooden steps and enjoyed the warmth of the bright sunshine.

Nearly a half hour later, Daniel was still playing with Oscar when Hannah heard a vehicle stop in the driveway. By the time she’d herded Daniel and the cat around to the front, Jess had already climbed from the truck and was walking to the porch. When he spotted the three of them, he stopped and gave them all a grin.

“Hey, what’s that blob of gray fur you’re carrying there?” he asked his son.

Daniel raced to his father. “He’s my new friend. His name is Oscar,” Daniel told him.

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