“Go away, Leah.”

John’s voice lashed like a whip across the room, halting her in midstep. He was ready for a fight. More than that, he wanted one. But why?

“John, please, I’ve come here to help—”

“I don’t want or need your charity,” he muttered. “So why don’t you grab your suitcase and just get the hell out of here,” he said with a quiet emphasis that almost had her scurrying to obey.

“I’ll get out of your study…for now. You’re obviously in the midst of a self-indulgent wallow of some sort, and I might as well leave you to it. But I’m not getting out of your house, not tonight or tomorrow or the day after that. I never knew you could be such a jerk, John Bennett,” she finished, unable to keep the hurt from her voice.

“There’s a lot you don’t know about me, Leah,” he warned softly, turning to face her. “A lot you don’t want to know. Believe me.”

Dear Reader,

Make way for spring—as well as some room on your reading table for six new Special Edition novels! Our selection for this month’s READERS’ RING—Special Edition’s very own book club—is Playing by the Rules by Beverly Bird. In this innovative, edgy romance, a single mom who is sick and tired of the singles scene makes a deal with a handsome divorced hero—that their relationship will not lead to commitment. But both hero and heroine soon find themselves breaking all those pesky rules and falling head over heels for each other!

Gina Wilkins delights her readers with The Family Plan, in which two ambitious lawyers find unexpected love—and a newfound family—with the help of a young orphaned girl. Reader favorite Nikki Benjamin delivers a poignant reunion romance, Loving Leah, about a compassionate nanny who restores hope to an embittered single dad and his fragile young daughter.

In Call of the West, the last in Myrna Temte’s HEARTS OF WYOMING miniseries, a celebrity writer goes to Wyoming and finds the ranch—and the man—with whom she’d like to spend her life. Now she has to convince the cowboy to give up his ranch—and his heart! In her new cross-line miniseries, THE MOM SQUAD, Marie Ferrarella debuts with A Billionaire and a Baby. Here, a scoop-hungry—and pregnant—reporter goes after a reclusive corporate raider, only to go into labor just as she’s about to get the dirt! Ann Roth tickles our fancy with Reforming Cole, a sexy and emotional tale about a willful heroine who starts a “men’s etiquette” school so that the macho opposite sex can learn how best to treat a lady. Against her better judgment, the teacher falls for the gorgeous bad boy of the class!

I hope you enjoy this month’s lineup and come back for another month of moving stories about life, love and family!

Best,

Karen Taylor Richman

Senior Editor

Loving Leah
Nikki Benjamin

www.millsandboon.co.uk

NIKKI BENJAMIN

was born and raised in the Midwest, but after years in the Houston area, she considers herself a true Texan. Nikki says she’s always been an avid reader. (Her earliest literary heroines were Nancy Drew, Trixie Belden and Beany Malone.) Her writing experience was limited, however, until a friend started penning a novel and encouraged Nikki to do the same. One scene led to another, and soon she was hooked.

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

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Chapter One

In her modest sedan, Leah Hayes could have covered the distance from her father’s spacious home to John Bennett’s house in a matter of minutes. And on almost any other occasion, she would have done so without a second thought. Despite the eight years she had been away, the tree-lined streets of the neighborhood, within easy walking distance of the University of Montana campus in Missoula, were still familiar to her. But with her reception so uncertain, Leah chose to take her time.

“Are you lost, Aunt Leah?” her six-year-old niece asked, her soft, sweet voice edged with anxiety.

“No, Gracie,” Leah assured her, smiling ruefully as she glanced in the rearview mirror. “I remember the way to your house.”

Gracie’s frown eased, though only just a bit.

The little girl looked like both her mother—Leah’s stepsister, Caro—and her father, her features a perfect blend of the two. From Caro, Gracie had gotten her heart-shaped face and silky blond curls, and from her father, John, she had inherited the grave, pale gray eyes and determined tilt of chin that Leah had tried so hard, and so unsuccessfully, to forget in the years she’d been away.

“But you’re driving really slow,” the child pointed out.

“I’m admiring all the pretty flowers.” True, but not the whole truth behind her dawdling. “Everyone seems to have worked really hard on their gardens this year.”

“Not us.” Gracie’s disappointment sounded in her voice. “All we have in our flower beds are scraggly old weeds.”

“Well, that’s something we can fix while I’m here. Pulling weeds and planting flowers won’t take us any time at all if we work together.”

“Maybe my dad could help us, too,” Gracie murmured wistfully. “Before my mom died he always used to make sure we had pretty flowers.”

“Maybe so,” Leah agreed, though she had no idea at all what John would or wouldn’t be willing to do in the weeks ahead.

“He’ll probably be too busy,” the child said with an audible sigh of resignation. “He’s always too busy to do things with me, or he’s too sad. He really misses my mom, you know. But you’re here now, Aunt Leah, and you’ll do lots of things with me, won’t you?”

“Oh, yes, Gracie. I’m here now, and we’ll do lots and lots of things together this summer. I promise,” Leah said, making yet another vow to someone she loved before she’d had a chance to consider what it might cost her.

“See all the weeds in our flower beds?” her niece said as they turned onto Cedar Street.

“Yes, I do,” Leah replied, trying to hide her dismay at how run-down and abandoned the lovely, two-story house appeared compared to the photographs Caro had so proudly sent her a couple of years ago.

With the streetlights illuminating the house, she gave it a closer look. Though not totally weed-infested, the gardens were overgrown, the lawn could have used a good mowing, and the front windows were all dark despite the onset of evening.

She had hoped her father and stepmother had been exaggerating about John’s mood and behavior. Surely he had begun to get over the worst of his grief and was now ready to move on with his life again. He had responsibilities that couldn’t be ignored, Gracie being the most important among them. And he had agreed to let her help him take care of his daughter for the summer, hadn’t he?

“Do you think my dad’s home?” Gracie asked as Leah turned into the driveway, the uncertainty in her voice adding to Leah’s own.

“That’s his SUV, isn’t it?”

“Yes,” the little girl replied, then added by way of explanation, “but that doesn’t mean he’s home. He goes for long walks at night. Really, really long walks, and it’s nighttime now.”

Leah could understand John’s avoidance if she’d been the only one showing up on his doorstep. But would he go for one of his long walks on an evening when he was supposedly expecting his daughter to come home, as well? The man she had known eight years ago wouldn’t have, but John had changed after Caro’s death in ways that Leah wouldn’t have believed possible had anyone except her father told her.

“If your father isn’t home, we can always go back to Grandpa’s house and wait there until he returns,” Leah said, hoping she sounded more decisive than she felt.

“Okay,” Gracie readily agreed, her fears obviously eased by Leah’s simple solution.

Deciding to leave her suitcase in the trunk of the car, Leah helped Gracie out of the back seat. The little girl had only a slight bit of trouble maneuvering her injured leg, encased in a metal brace, so that she could stand up, but she accepted Leah’s assistance graciously. And though she was more than capable of walking up the brick path that led from the driveway to the front door of the house on her own, she also tucked her hand into Leah’s. Leah held on gratefully, receiving her own measure of reassurance from the physical contact.

Pausing on the small covered porch, she took a deep breath, gave Gracie’s hand an encouraging squeeze and rang the doorbell. A cool breeze stirred the tree branches and lifted her straight, shoulder-length brown hair as she listened to the faint echo of the chimes. Shivering slightly, she wished she had put on her sweater before leaving the car. It might be June, but in Montana the night air still held a definite chill that her jeans and denim shirt couldn’t ward off.

“Oh, no…” Gracie murmured as seconds ticked into a minute, then two, without the door opening.

Reaching out, Leah pressed her finger against the doorbell a second time, holding it there several seconds longer than she had the first time. Another minute or two passed and then, to her relief, she heard the sound of the bolt lock being drawn.

“He’s here!” Gracie’s voice was filled with an odd mix of excitement and uncertainty that Leah determined to be a consequence of her father’s erratic behavior.

Choosing to ignore as best she could the quiver that stole along her own spine, Leah forced herself to smile. The simple words “Hi, stranger” formed in her mind, a perfectly acceptable greeting after eight years, especially if spoken in a cheerfully teasing tone.

The front door finally swung open, not smoothly but with a jerk that signaled impatience, even irritation, and in the semidarkness, the man looming on the threshold presented a frightening visage, at least to Leah’s eyes. Had she not expected him to be John, she would have never recognized the person now standing before her.

With his dark, shaggy hair unkempt, his face unshaven, his eyes bleary, his navy T-shirt and faded jeans hanging much too loosely on his tall, lanky frame, John Bennett looked no more familiar to her than a total stranger would have. And a hostile stranger at that, she thought, her smile fading and her jaunty greeting left unspoken.

“Hi, Daddy,” Gracie said.

The child’s high, sweet, hopeful voice filled the gaping silence as she let go of Leah’s hand and took a tentative step forward.

Immediately John’s expression changed, softening perceptibly as his gaze shifted to his daughter. His love for the little girl was so obvious and unencumbered that it seemed almost palpable to Leah. Here was the man she remembered, she thought, the good, kind man who would never intentionally hurt anyone, especially her. He wasn’t hostile at all, only ravaged by a grief so profound and desperately unrelenting that nothing, save the sight of his beloved daughter, could ease it.

“Hi, Gracie.” John bent down and scooped his daughter into his arms, gently cradling her injured leg in one large, competent hand. As he straightened up, he shared a warm and heartfelt hug with her. “Did you have a good time at Grandma and Grandpa’s house?”

“Oh, yes. They had a big surprise for me, too.” With a satisfied smile the little girl turned and waved a hand at Leah. “Look, Daddy, it’s Aunt Leah. You remember her, don’t you? I went to visit her in Chicago with Mommy a whole bunch of times. Now she’s finally come to visit us here in Missoula, and guess what? She’s going to stay right here with us all summer, and I’m so glad, Daddy. Aren’t you?”

“Of course I remember your aunt. In fact, I remember her quite well,” John replied in a noncommittal tone, his gaze settling on Leah. “Welcome back to Missoula, Leah.”

She started to smile again, started to greet him as she’d planned, but the expression on his face belied his softly spoken words. Though not openly hostile, the glance he cast her was, at the very least, unfriendly. So unfriendly, in fact, that it caught her completely by surprise. And his failure to agree with Gracie that he was glad she would be staying with them spoke volumes about his feelings in that regard, as well.

She had thought that John was not only aware of the arrangements her father and stepmother had made on Gracie’s behalf, but that he also approved of them. He had to have known that she was the one Cameron and Georgette had chosen to serve as the little girl’s nanny for the summer. Surely they’d discussed their plan with him and gotten his approval before approaching her, hadn’t they?

But if John had given his approval, why was he treating her with such hostility?

Leah realized that she’d never asked either Cameron or Georgette how John felt about the matter, and apparently, in their wisdom, they had chosen not to mention it themselves. They had told her only that John had changed quite a bit since Caro’s death, and to Leah that had been understandable, considering the extent of his loss. Had she known he would be irritated by her arrival and dislike the idea of her living in his house, she would never have agreed to return to Missoula.

What had possessed her to assume so much, so mistakenly?

Her love for Gracie, Leah realized. Cameron had insisted that John was still too preoccupied with his own loss to give the little girl the attention she needed, and Gracie’s comments in the car had verified that. And then, of course, there had been that unavoidable flare of hope, coupled with the sudden reawakening of long-dormant dreams, that had stirred deep in her soul at the thought of seeing her dearest friend again after eight long, very lonely years.

She hadn’t expected John to share her feelings. Barely a year had passed since Caro’s death, and he would never love anyone as much as he’d loved her. But neither had Leah anticipated such a total lack of warmth, not to mention welcome.

“The nanny’s room is on the far side of the den past the kitchen,” he directed, interrupting her reverie in a no-nonsense, matter-of-fact tone of voice. As if she was a lowly stranger hired for the summer against his better judgment, instead of someone with whom he’d once shared his hopes and dreams, Leah thought, staring at him in undisguised bewilderment.

“Make yourself at home,” he added, his cool, distant expression devoid of any hint of invitation. Then to Gracie in a much softer, gentler tone he said as he turned away, “I bet you had dinner at Grandma’s house, didn’t you?”

“Oh, yes, my favorite—hamburgers and French fries.”

“Well, then, let’s get you upstairs and into your pajamas. It’s almost past your bedtime, young lady.”

Putting her arms around her father’s neck, Gracie giggled with uninhibited delight.

Standing alone on the porch, watching John walk slowly up the staircase just inside the entryway of the house with Gracie held close in his arms, Leah’s first impulse was to yell, “Hey, wait a minute. Where do you think you’re going?” She couldn’t do it, though. Not with Gracie looking on. The little girl deserved a peaceful night’s sleep, and she definitely wouldn’t have one if she first had to witness an angry scene between her father and her aunt.

But Leah had a right to know what was going on with John. She’d had what now seemed to be the glossy version from her father and stepmother. Apparently they had given her just enough information—distinctly shaded to the positive—to lure her back to Missoula. And with her guard down, she had been totally unprepared for the problems they must have known she would surely encounter.

Of course, she couldn’t claim to be totally innocent. She had gone along with the plan easily enough, she acknowledged, fumbling along the wall inside the doorway for the switches that turned on the porch and entryway lights. She’d believed what they’d wanted her to believe because she’d wanted to believe it, too.

Her father and stepmother had needed her help—help she’d been easily able to afford to give during her summer vacation. They’d been sure that if anyone could deal with John’s moodiness while also providing a stable home for Gracie, it was she. And with her experience working as a teacher at a private girls’ school in Chicago, Leah had known she could also help Gracie catch up on the schoolwork she’d missed due to her injuries.

Ruefully, she now considered all the questions she hadn’t asked Cameron and Georgette, and remembered, much too late, all the words they had used to describe John Bennett—bitter, angry, not himself—which she had originally chosen to ignore. There had even been a comment about John running off two nannies in the past nine months—a comment she should have questioned more closely, but of course hadn’t.

Obviously they hadn’t left because he’d been nice to them, Leah acknowledged as she walked back to the car to retrieve her suitcase. And he certainly hadn’t been nice to her, either. But she wasn’t just any young woman hired through a professional agency to look after his daughter. She was Leah—his once and always friend. Or so she’d believed until he’d dismissed her without so much as a backward glance.

She could leave of course. She could just get into her car and drive back to Chicago. No one would blame her, not even her father and stepmother. But who would look after Gracie then? Who would care for the little girl as willingly and lovingly as she would? Not Cameron and Georgette—they were leaving for her father’s summer lecture series in Europe early tomorrow morning. There wasn’t anyone else Leah could think of.

So she would have to stay—or live with more guilt than her conscience could bear. But she wasn’t going to tolerate open animosity from John Bennett, she vowed as she opened the trunk of her car. She shouldn’t have to. He had been her friend once—her very best friend—and she was there for a very good reason.

As she had every intention of reminding him once she’d had a chance to gather her courage and stand up to him.

Chapter Two

“Are you angry with Aunt Leah, Daddy?” Gracie asked, her concern evident in the hush of her voice and the frown furrowing her brow.

Mentally cursing himself for upsetting his daughter on her first night back at home, John tightened his hold on her and gave her a quick kiss on the cheek.

“No, Gracie, I’m not angry with your aunt Leah,” he said as they made their way up the staircase to the second floor.

Well, not any angrier than he’d been with anyone else intent on interfering with his life lately, he admitted to himself, not counting Gracie of course. But then, his daughter wasn’t any interference at all, never had been, and to his way of thinking, never would be. From the moment of her birth, she had been the light of his life.

“But you sounded kind of growly when you talked to her, Daddy,” Gracie insisted.

“Growly, huh?” he replied with a wry smile.

What a way she had of describing how he’d sounded! He smiled slightly, musing that his verbal release had resulted from the unfortunate mix of emotions he’d been experiencing all afternoon. Since Leah’s father had first advised him earlier that day that Leah was the so-called nanny they had found to help him look after Gracie for the summer, John had been angry and resentful and, to his consternation, oddly unsettled, as well.

He was used to the anger. It had gone hand in hand with the pain of losing Caro in such a tragic, senseless, unexpected way. Resentment, too, had been a good friend in the months since his wife’s untimely death. He didn’t want sympathy, because to his way of thinking he didn’t deserve it. He, and he alone, had been responsible for Caro’s death. He had earned every agonizing moment he’d lived since that fateful night, and then some.

The restiveness he had been battling the past few hours was something else altogether, though—a feeling he most definitely didn’t want to indulge in, especially in regard to Leah Hayes.

A heart thrum of tension had lanced through him at just the thought of having her in his life again on a daily basis—close enough to see, to touch. He’d wanted to roar like the caged and wounded beast he’d felt himself to be for far too long. When he’d actually had to open his door to her and meet her clear, level gaze face-to-face for the first time in eight years, he’d been stirred by a nearly uncontrollable urge to pull her into his arms, hold her close and confess, without any constraint, the many sins he’d committed.

It was lucky for all concerned that he had only come across as “growly.” And he would have to put a lid on even that particular tone of voice, at least whenever Gracie was around, he thought as he set her down just inside the bathroom doorway and switched on the overhead light.

“Yes, Daddy, very growly,” she assured him. Then, tugging at his hand, she added gravely, “We can go back to Grandpa and Grandma’s house if you need some more private time. Only, we’ll have to come back here again tomorrow ’cause somebody else is going to be staying there while they’re gone on their big trip.”

Squatting on his heels in front of his daughter, his heart twisting at the painfully tentative look in her eyes, John smoothed a hand over his daughter’s tumble of blond, silky curls.

“I’m so glad you’re home again, Gracie, even if I didn’t exactly sound like it when I came to the door. And you’re staying right here with me from now on,” he vowed. “I’ve had enough private time the past few weeks to last a very long while.”

“What about Aunt Leah? Are you glad she’s here, too?”

“Are you glad, Gracie?” John asked, attempting to avoid telling the little girl an outright lie.

“Oh, yes. Really, really glad.”

“Then I’m glad that you’re glad. Now wash your face and hands and put on your pajamas while I turn down the blankets on your bed, okay?”

“Okay, Daddy.” As he stood upright again, she asked shyly, “Will you read a story to me?”

“I most certainly will. Any special requests?”

“You choose tonight.”

Leaving Gracie to get ready for bed on her own—something she had insisted on doing now that she would be starting first grade soon—John walked slowly down the hallway to the little girl’s room. It was just across from the bedroom he’d shared with Caro, and unlike most of the rest of the house, it was clean and tidy. The cherry furniture was freshly polished, there were clean linens on the canopy bed, Gracie’s books, dolls and stuffed animals were neatly arranged on the built-in shelves, and her toys were stored in the hope chest that matched the bed, dresser and nightstand.

Everything in the room was impeccably tasteful, everything chosen by Caro to suit a little girl as she grew into young womanhood. A transition Caro would have delighted in overseeing, but now never would, thanks to him.

Willing away that particularly unprofitable train of thought, John crossed to one of the two windows facing out over the front lawn, meaning to close the wide-slatted blinds. He saw that Leah had turned on the porch light, and at the edge of its glow, he saw her opening the trunk of her car, then reaching for a suitcase.

In the years they’d been apart, he’d forgotten how truly lovely she was with her dark hair falling softly against her shoulders, her green eyes flashing with intelligence. Her tall, slender body, once girlish, was now womanly in intriguing ways. She still seemed to have her own brand of inner beauty, as well—a steadfast heart that complemented the serenity of her soul.

Too bad he hadn’t valued all that she was when he might have been worthy of her attention. Now…

Now John hoped she didn’t plan to make herself too comfortable in his house, especially since she wasn’t going to be staying long. There were too many things he’d rather she not know about him, things he would have much too hard a time hiding from her if he allowed her into his life again on a regular basis.

He was more than capable of taking care of Gracie on his own. He’d have to pull himself together of course, but it was time he finally made the effort. The alternative—having Leah around for the next three months, a constant reminder of the lie he’d been living and would continue to live—was just the spur he needed.

“Daddy, you didn’t turn on the lamp,” Gracie chided gently as she joined him in her bedroom.

“I didn’t expect you to be ready for a story so soon.” With a flick of his wrist, John closed one set of blinds, crossed to the other window and closed the second set, then faced his daughter with a teasing smile. “Are you sure you gave your face and hands a really good wash?”

“A really, really good wash.” She smiled back at him as she turned on the nightstand lamp, then hoisted herself onto the bed. “I even put my clothes in the hamper. I brushed my teeth and my hair, too.”

“Need help with the brace?” he asked, striving for a casual tone.

“No, I can do it myself,” she replied as she worked at releasing the first of several Velcro straps that held the brace firmly in place around her left leg.

“Then I guess I’d better get busy and choose a story.”

Gracie had been good about wearing the ungainly brace, or at least she’d put up a good front in her own matter-of-fact way. She’d also worked hard during the daily, then weekly physical-therapy sessions following the surgery to mend the broken bones and torn ligaments, and she’d been rightfully proud of every small achievement she’d made.

She had been able to walk on her own in the bulky, metal contraption for a couple of months now. And according to the orthopedic surgeon’s most recent prognosis, she would soon be able to dispense with the brace altogether.

Gracie had also worked toward accepting the finality of her mother’s death, aided by a skilled psychologist and her loving grandparents. Slowly but steadily, she was returning to the happy, healthy and adventurous little girl she’d been a year ago.

John wished he could say that he’d had a hand in her recovery, but in truth, he had been too busy wallowing in his own brand of self-pity—one laced with self-contempt—to be of much help to anyone, even his beloved little girl. No more, though, he promised himself. The time had come for him to get past the anger, bitterness and pain and try to be the kind of father Gracie deserved.

Time, too, he acknowledged, to try to forget the words Caro had spoken to him those last moments they’d spent together, and what he had done to make her say them. Those awful memories only reinforced the cycle of unhealthy emotions that couldn’t change the past, but had already come much too close to destroying his future.

“How about Goodnight, Little Bear,” Gracie prompted softly, reminding John of why he stood in front of the bookcase that filled one entire wall of her room.

“An excellent choice,” he said as he reached for the slender volume. “I can read another one, as well, unless you’re feeling too sleepy.”

“Too sleepy tonight, Daddy.”

“Then it’s Goodnight, Little Bear and good night, little Gracie. How does that sound?”

“Oh, Daddy, you’re so silly sometimes.” Snuggling into her pillow, she giggled as he stretched out beside her atop the pretty, pink-and-white patchwork quilt.

“Sorry, I meant to be serious,” he teased, opening the book. “Guess I’d better use my growly voice again.”

“Oh, no, don’t do that. I don’t like your growly voice at all.”

“Then I’ll lock it up in a box.”

“And throw away the key?”

“Well, I might need the growly voice again sometime. I might have to use it with other people.”

“But not with me, right, Daddy?”

“Right, Gracie, not ever with you.”

“Not with Aunt Leah, either,” she instructed, then yawned and closed her eyes.

John said nothing for several seconds, unable to lie to the little girl in any way. More than likely, he would have to use his growly voice and then some to get Leah Hayes out of his house. But he’d make sure Gracie wasn’t within hearing distance when he did. In fact, he had every intention of dealing with Ms. Hayes just as soon as Gracie was asleep.

“Hey, are you sure you’re going to be able to stay awake for even one story?” he asked, putting his arm around his daughter’s shoulders and giving her a quick hug.

“Mm, yes, I can stay awake.”

“Okay, then…”

Focusing on the words of the story, words he practically knew by heart after reading the book to Gracie so often, John set aside all other thoughts. Content just to be in the present moment—at home with the little girl he loved more than he could say—he began to read.

In one hand, Leah carried the suitcase that held items she’d need most her first night in John’s house, in the other, Gracie’s bag filled with the clothes, books and a favorite stuffed animal she’d taken to her grandparents’. Trudging back up the brick walkway, she saw a light go on above her, shining through two of the front-facing windows and adding to the glow of the porch light.

Gracie’s room, she thought. John was probably putting his daughter to bed. By the time she had dumped the suitcases and taken a few minutes to freshen up in the bathroom, her niece should be tucked away for the night, perhaps already asleep. There was no reason she couldn’t get a few things straightened out with John then, except her own dread of squaring off with him. It wasn’t a happy prospect, by any stretch of the imagination, but an immediate, top-of-the-list must-do nonetheless.

Once inside the main entryway, Leah dropped Gracie’s bag at the foot of the staircase, then, turning on lights as she went, proceeded in the direction of the room she’d be using during her stay.

The formal living and dining rooms, one opening onto either side of the entryway, obviously hadn’t been used in a long time. Nor had they been cleaned recently. Dust clung to the furniture and balled up in the corners of the polished oak floors, and a cobweb hung among the crystals on the chandelier over the dining-room table. Not that bad, though, when compared to the mess she found in the kitchen and den.

Her bewilderment quickly turning to dismay, Leah halted in the center of what could have been a very cozy kitchen. With a delicate shudder, she gazed at the stacks of unwashed dishes on the countertops and in the sink and grimaced at the empty pizza boxes and Chinese-food containers piled high in the trash bin. Books and papers were scattered over the kitchen table, much as they were over the coffee table and end tables in the den.

Needless to say, this slovenliness—and that was putting it kindly—had to have been one of the reasons her father and stepmother had asked for her help. Dealing with the disarray in other people’s lives—usually emotional, but occasionally physical, as well—then fading quietly into the background had become something of a specialty for her the past couple of years, she acknowledged. Longer than that, counting the lonely days she’d looked after her father following her mother’s death, and the times she’s sat without speaking while John poured out his heart during his parents’ bitter divorce.

Then her father had met Georgette, and knowing her help was no longer needed, Leah had willingly stepped to the sidelines. She’d done the same when she realized it was Caro that John loved enough to marry. And she would do the same once more when her father and stepmother returned at the end of summer and could again keep a watchful eye on Gracie.

But August was a long way off, and she had work to do in the meantime, Leah reminded herself as she continued on to the room off the den that she assumed would be hers during her stay there.

She’d thought she’d seen the worst possible mess in the kitchen and den, but the so-called nanny’s room, a fair-size bedsitting room with its own private bath, had even more horrors to offer. The bed had been left with sheets, blankets and pillows in disarray, as if the prior occupant had tumbled out, packed her bags and gone. Empty drawers gaped open in the chest and dresser, and in the bathroom used towels hung stiff as boards on the racks.

“What has been going on around here?” Leah demanded angrily of no one in particular, then answered with a twinge of sarcasm, “Apparently not much in the way of housekeeping.”

Dropping her suitcase on the serviceable gray carpet, she noted that it, at least, appeared to be clean.

In the bathroom, she opened cabinet doors until she found a stack of clean towels, then washed her face and hands. Feeling a little better, she retraced her steps to the staircase, grabbed Gracie’s bag and headed upstairs to the little girl’s bedroom.

On the landing, Leah saw that the first two rooms on either side of the hallway stood with doors closed. The room facing the back of the house was John’s study, she recalled from the photographs Caro had sent her, while the other was a guest room Caro had used mainly for storage. Farther along, two more rooms stood with doors open—the master bedroom and Gracie’s room, from which the faint illumination of a night-light glowed.

Postponing her confrontation with John just a little longer, Leah walked down the hallway and peeked into her niece’s bedroom. With her blond curls tumbled on the lace-edged pillow and her long eyelashes dark against her pale skin, Gracie looked like a princess peacefully sleeping under the canopy of her bed.

Leah set the bag on the floor, then tiptoed across the room. But as if sensing her aunt’s presence, Gracie stirred, opened her eyes and smiled sleepily.

“I didn’t mean to wake you,” Leah said, sitting on the bed beside her.

“You didn’t,” Gracie replied. “I was waiting for you to come and say good-night.”

“Well, then, good night, Gracie.” Leah smiled as she gently stroked the little girl’s curls, then bent to kiss her cheek.

“Good night, Aunt Leah.”

“Sleep tight…”

“…and don’t let the bedbugs bite,” Gracie finished with a giggle. Then, her sweet smile fading, she added more seriously, “I had a little talk with my dad.”

“Oh, you did, did you?”

“He promised not to be growly anymore.”

“Well, that’s nice to know.”

“I thought so, too.” Gracie closed her eyes again and snuggled more deeply under the quilt. “See you in the morning?” she asked softly.

“Count on it,” Leah said as she tucked the covers around the little girl’s shoulders.

She might not have had a warm welcome from John, much less a clean bed in which to sleep, but she wasn’t going to desert her niece under any circumstances.

Out in the hallway again, Leah paused. She was tempted to go back downstairs and set to work making her room habitable for the night. It was a perfectly good excuse to put off talking to John until the following day. But she knew that the sooner she faced him, the better it would be for all concerned.

She didn’t want him thinking she was going to creep around his house, giving him a wide berth and staying out of his way like a frightened puppy. She’d stood up to him often enough in the past without any serious repercussions. Granted, they had been children rather than adults then, but surely their maturity would work in her favor now. After all, he’d promised Gracie he wouldn’t be growly anymore, she told herself with a slight smile. She hoped the promise had included conversations with her, as well as his daughter.

Leah rapped firmly on the door to John’s study. Then, throwing caution to the wind, she walked in without waiting for an invitation. The room was as dark as the rest of the house had been. Only a glimmer of outside light coming through the blinds at the windows delineated the placement of the furnishings—a large desk and chair, bookshelves, a small leather sofa. Surprisingly well ordered, she noted, considering the condition of the rest of the house.

John stood by one of the windows, his back to her, making no effort to acknowledge her presence. Hands in the pockets of his jeans, his shoulders slumped, he gazed out at only he knew what.

Leah had been determined to stand up to him, to speak her mind about his earlier behavior and lay some ground rules. But the sight of him looking so…forlorn stole away the words she’d been prepared to say. Instead, she moved toward him quietly, wanting only to put her arms around him, to hold him close and assure him that everything would be all right.

Yes, his beloved Caro was dead, but he had Gracie to consider. And now she was there—his once and always friend—to help him begin to heal.

“Get out of here, Leah.”

Though pitched low, John’s voice lashed like a whip across the room, halting her in midstep. Momentarily stunned by the depth of his animosity toward her, Leah gripped the edge of his desk to steady herself. She saw in an instant how his shoulders had straightened, how he now held his hands at his sides, clenched into fists.

He was ready for a fight. More than that, he wanted one. But why? she wondered. She’d never been his enemy—

“Are you deaf, Leah? I told you to get out,” he repeated, this time honoring her with a pointed glance over one shoulder.

“John, please, I’ve come here to help,” she began, trying to get him to be reasonable.

“I don’t want or need your charity,” he muttered darkly, turning away again.

“I’m not sure what you mean by charity.” Truly puzzled by his comment, she eyed him silently, waiting for some further explanation. When he offered none, she ventured softly, “You obviously need some help around here and I’m more than willing to provide it. I thought you understood. More than that, I thought you agreed—”

“Me, agree? Not likely, Leah. And as for you being willing?” He laughed softly without any humor. “You’re only here because Cameron and Georgette played on your sympathy.”

“How can you say that?” she demanded, unable to hide her dismay. “Surely you know how much I care about you and Gracie.”

Her father and stepmother had played on her sympathy, but John had to know that that alone wouldn’t have brought her home again. Why, then, was he treating her like an adversary?

“Right, Leah. You care about us so much that you’ve only now come back to Missoula after eight years away. You didn’t even bother to come home for Caro’s funeral.” He paused for a moment, as if only then aware of what he’d revealed, then forged on with surly determination. “Now you want me to believe you’re here out of the goodness of your heart and you expect me to be grateful? No way in hell—”

“I was traveling in Southeast Asia when Caro died. I didn’t even know about the accident until two weeks after it happened,” Leah reminded him, realizing at last what had caused him to be so upset with her. She’d thought he knew and understood why she hadn’t been able to be there for him during those weeks immediately following Caro’s death. But it seemed he hadn’t, and he’d held it against her ever since. “I wrote to you then, John. A long letter you never answered. If you needed me, why didn’t you let me know? I would have come.”

“Because I didn’t need you then, just like I don’t need you now. Simple enough, isn’t it? So why don’t you grab your suitcase and just get the hell out of here,” he said again with a quiet emphasis that almost had her scurrying to obey.

Only the realization of how deeply he’d been hurt by her absence made her stand firm. Now that she knew how badly she’d let John down after Caro died, she wasn’t going to let him down again. There was Gracie to consider, too, and the awful disorder downstairs. Regardless of what he said or did, he needed her here, and here she was going to stay.

“I’ll get out of your study…for now. You’re obviously in the midst of a self-indulgent wallow of some sort, and I might as well leave you to it,” she stated with surprising self-possession. “But I’m not getting out of your house, not tonight or tomorrow or the day after that. Somebody needs to clean up the mess you’ve made downstairs before your daughter sees it. And somebody certainly needs to look after Gracie until Cameron and Georgette return in August. Since you seem too busy feeling sorry for yourself to even take out the trash, and since you’ve already succeeded in running off two nannies in the past nine months, you’re stuck with me. Like it or not, I suggest you get used to it,” she finished with a defiant tip of her chin.

“I didn’t run off two nannies in nine months,” he snapped back, glaring at her. “The first one left to take a higher-paying job in Seattle. I caught the second one in bed with a man in the middle of the day while Gracie was alone in her room under orders not to come out. Despite what you’ve obviously been told, I’m not quite the ogre I’ve been portrayed as being.”

“No one has portrayed you as an ogre, and I don’t consider you one, either. But by the same token, I’m not the enemy here,” she insisted, hoping to mollify him enough that he would give her at least a little cooperation.

“You did say you’d get out of my study, didn’t you?” he asked almost conversationally, obviously choosing to ignore her attempt to soften his mood. “Anytime now would be good for me.”

Both angered and exasperated by his callous dismissal but trying hard not to show it, Leah spun on her heel and crossed to the doorway, then paused.

“I never knew you could be such a jerk, John Bennett,” she tossed back at him, unable to keep the hurt she was feeling from echoing in her voice.

“There’s a lot you don’t know about me, Leah,” he warned softly, turning to face her fully for the first time since she’d entered his study. “A lot you don’t want to know, believe me.”

There was a new element in his tone, a self-loathing that caught Leah completely by surprise. But she was too caught up in her anger with him to do more than file the thought away for future consideration.

“Right now I’d have to agree with you,” she shot back.

Her head held high, Leah quietly left and closed the door behind her. She paused in the hallway to take a deep, calming breath, then suddenly realized that Gracie could have overheard their every word. With a sense of dread, she hurried down the hallway, then sighed with relief. A glance in the little girl’s bedroom assured her that Gracie was sleeping soundly.

While Leah had no intention of allowing John to treat her badly, she didn’t want his daughter witnessing the kind of exchange they’d just had. She didn’t think John would, either, but she couldn’t be absolutely sure. His emotions seemed much too volatile.

She could only hope that in the days ahead the diplomacy she’d developed dealing with the more overbearing parents she’d come up against as a teacher would work to her advantage with him, as well.

Obviously John was still grieving deeply for Caro. That alone gave her good reason to make allowances for his behavior. And although he hadn’t said as much in so many words, he’d also been hurt by her absence after Caro’s death.

Leah had thought about coming home many times in the months since the accident, but she’d always found excuses to stay away. Not because she hadn’t cared about John, she admitted. In fact, she’d cared about him too much and hadn’t wanted him to know it.

During all the years John had been married to Caro, Leah had never really stopped loving him. Selfishly, she had sought to avoid the one situation guaranteed to cause her heartache, and in the process she had lost what friendship they’d once shared.

Well, so be it, she thought as she headed downstairs to strip the linens from the bed in her room and put them in the washing machine. It wasn’t necessary for them to be friends for her to take care of Gracie. Nor was their friendship necessary for her to scrub pots and pans, carry out the trash, load the dishwasher and wipe down countertops, she added as she surveyed the kitchen with her hands on her hips.

But it would have been so much easier being there with John if she could have counted on him treating her kindly. She deserved at least that much from him without having to demand it. She still hadn’t given up completely, at least not yet. He couldn’t ignore indefinitely the past they’d shared. He might try, but she wasn’t going to let him.

Eventually, he would realize she was there for his benefit as well as Gracie’s. All she had to do was be patient, and she had gotten very good at that over the years, she thought, as she grimly set to work filling the sink with hot, soapy water to soak the crusty pots and pans left on the stove.

Chapter Three

They were at it again, John thought, eyeing the clock on his nightstand with bleary eyes. Not quite seven in the morning, and for the third day in a row, the sound of feminine voices—light, bright and much too cheerful, at least to his way of thinking—drifted into his bedroom from the kitchen directly below.

He had never been an early riser, nor had Caro. But Leah and Gracie seemed to delight in waking up with the birds, then waking him up, as well, with their airy chatter, the bang of pots and pans, and the scent of breakfast cooking.

With a low groan, John sat up and scrubbed his hands through his shaggy hair. Somehow, in the days since her arrival Sunday night, Leah had quietly and efficiently taken over responsibility for his home, as well as his daughter. Not that he’d put up much of a fight. He hadn’t yet stayed in the house with Leah long enough for that to happen.

Monday morning he had gone downstairs, totally uncertain of his reception. His behavior toward Leah the night before had been abominable, but he had no intention of apologizing to her. He didn’t want or need her in his home, and any nicety on his part would only make it that much harder to get rid of her, as he kept telling himself he had every intention of doing very soon.

Shifting in his bed, he remembered how he’d walked into the spotlessly clean kitchen that first morning to find Leah and Gracie at the table, empty plates pushed aside, their heads bent over the comics in the daily paper.

“Daddy?” Gracie had looked up at him with a surprised smile. “You got up early today.”

“Couldn’t sleep with all the racket down here,” he’d replied, not sounding nearly as gruff as he should have under the circumstances.

Leah, too, had acknowledged his presence, but her smile hadn’t quite erased the wary look in her eyes.

“There’s bacon in the oven,” she’d said. “It won’t take me long to scramble a couple of eggs for you if you’re hungry, or I can put some bread in the toaster….”

“Thanks, but I’ll just have coffee.” He’d filled the thermal mug he used, then dug in a drawer for paper and pen. “Here’s the telephone number for my office at the university. I’ll be there all day if you need me. Don’t bother to wait dinner.” He’d set the note on the table, then added by way of explanation when he’d seen the crestfallen look on Gracie’s face, “I have a meeting with the dean that I’ve put off for a couple of weeks already. There’s no getting out of it today.”

“Can we come see you at your office?” Gracie had asked, her voice filled with hope.

“Maybe another day,” he’d replied, then hesitated, not really as anxious to get away as he’d been initially.

“We have to go to the grocery store this morning, Gracie, and we haven’t even begun to put together our list yet,” Leah reminded the little girl gently.

“Oh, yeah, you’ll need some money.”

John had frowned as he dug in his back pocket for his wallet, afraid that he didn’t have enough cash on hand to cover all the things he imagined Leah would probably have to buy. He had gotten in the habit of keeping only a minimal amount of perishable food in the house.

“I’ve got it covered. Pay me back when you can,” she’d told him.

“Right, I will.”

He’d left then, the memory of the reproach he’d seen in Leah’s eyes staying with him not only all day, but also well into the night. He hadn’t been so busy that he’d had to go to the university quite so early that day, and he could have come home much sooner than he had, as well. Instead, he’d waited purposely until he’d been sure that Leah and Gracie had both gone to bed.

Tuesday morning had been a replay of Monday morning except that Leah’s homemaking efforts on Monday had made him feel even guiltier. Not only had there been leftover meat loaf in the refrigerator, but a chocolate layer cake on the counter. And the rest of the house, now as immaculate as the kitchen, had smelled of fresh air and lemon oil.

Instead of being duly contrite, though, he had allowed his irritation at himself to show and be misconstrued.

“I appreciate your efforts, Leah, but you don’t have to clean my house,” he’d said as he’d filled his mug at the counter. “I can hire a maid service to come in once a week.”

“But it was fun, Daddy,” Gracie had said. “Leah let me push the vacuum cleaner and spray the furniture polish on the tables. I helped her bake a cake, too, and we made cinnamon rolls for breakfast today. Wait’ll you taste them. They are so, so yummy.”

There had been a wary look in Leah’s lovely eyes again when he’d turned to meet her gaze. But there had been the barest hint of anger, as well, and it had echoed in her voice when she spoke.

“There’s no need to hire a maid service while I’m here, John,” she said. “I intend to earn my keep, you know. By the way, the receipt for the groceries I bought is on the windowsill. You can give me a check to cover the cost whenever you have a chance. Gracie requested spaghetti for dinner tonight, too, hoping you’d eat with us.”

“Sorry, I can’t be here,” he’d answered curtly, then had wanted to kick himself when he’d seen Gracie duck her head to hide her disappointment.

“You’re awfully busy for June, aren’t you?” Leah had asked, politely yet pointedly.

“I’ve just gotten funding for an important research project,” he’d answered, his tone more defensive than he’d intended. “I’d like to have it well under way before classes start again in the fall.”

“I see,” she’d said, her own tone making it evident that she didn’t really. Then she’d added with a killer smile that had made his breath catch, “Good thing I’m here, then, isn’t it?”

“I think so,” Gracie had said, reminding John of her presence. “Don’t you, Daddy?”

“Yes, of course. What would we do without your aunt Leah?” He’d allowed just enough sarcasm into his tone to wipe the smile off Leah’s face without upsetting Gracie, something he’d learned to do years ago with Caro.

He’d headed out again after that, feeling every bit the jerk Leah had accused him of being Sunday night. To make bad matters worse, his rude behavior toward her wasn’t even doing him any good. She was too strong-minded and stubborn to let him run her off.

In fact, he’d realized as he’d stood at the kitchen counter just after midnight eating cold spaghetti that he was making his own life more difficult—not to mention more miserable—by going to such great lengths to avoid Leah’s company. She’d put him on notice that she intended to dig in her heels for the duration of the summer, and what was so bad about that?

Nothing, he acknowledged as he got out of bed now. She’d made his home a clean and comfortable place to be again, although wisely she hadn’t gone into his study or his bedroom yet. He was the one staying away by choice simply because he didn’t want to admit to her, or to himself, how glad he was that she was there.

That would mean apologizing for his rudeness the night she’d arrived, and that, in turn, might very well lead her to expect further explanations he had no intention of giving. There were things about himself and Caro and their life together, especially during the last few months of their marriage, that he didn’t want Leah to ever know.

Showered and dressed, John headed downstairs, intending to go to his office at the university as he had the past couple of days. He was surprised to find neither Leah nor Gracie in the kitchen, though a fresh pot of coffee and his mug sat on the counter, along with a box of cereal, a bowl and a spoon.

Puzzled by Leah and Gracie’s absence, he reached for the coffeepot. Through the window over the sink, he glimpsed a flash of red, then froze, hand in the air just shy of the pot’s handle. Leah was dressed in a pair of faded denim shorts, very short shorts that showed off her long legs to advantage, and a red tank top under which she wore—from the way her full, firm breasts pushed against the fabric—nothing at all.

Looking about sixteen with her hair pulled back in a saucy ponytail, she was bent over the lawn mower, fiddling with the choke. Gracie, standing safely off to one side, chattered happily, apparently asking questions that Leah answered in ways that made the little girl giggle with delight.

Without really thinking, John moved to the kitchen door, pulled it open and strode out onto the patio.

“What do you think you’re doing?” he asked, making no effort to hide his exasperation.

“Mowing the grass,” Leah replied in a mild tone, glancing back at him for an instant before she unscrewed the cap on the mower’s fuel tank. “Unless I have to go to the service station to buy a couple of gallons of gas. Then I’ll be mowing the grass.”

“And we’re going to weed the flower beds, too,” Gracie declared. “Maybe, if we have time, we’re going to the nursery to buy some plants, too. We both like roses best, you know.”

No, he hadn’t known that about either Gracie or Leah, John ruefully admitted to himself.

“I was going to mow the lawn,” he said. The yard wasn’t that overgrown yet, was it? Well, yes, he realized after a swift survey, it was.

Leah shot him a skeptical look as she straightened.

“When, exactly?” she asked casually, wiping her hands on the seat of her shorts.

“Eventually,” he muttered, shifting from one foot to the other uncomfortably as he looked away from her penetrating gaze.

“We have to do it today, Daddy, ’cause everybody’s mad at us,” Gracie stated in a solemn tone. “Mrs. Thomason and Mr. Carey and the Donovans—both of them.”

“Mad at us?” He eyed first Gracie, then Leah in confusion.

“Apparently your neighbors, at least the ones Gracie mentioned, seem to feel property values on the street are set to take a nosedive if we don’t get your yard cleaned up within the next twenty-four hours,” Leah explained with an all-too-sweet smile.

“How do you know that?” John demanded.

“They each took the opportunity to tell me personally. And I assured them all, personally, that I’d see it was taken care of immediately.”

“You’re not mowing the lawn, Leah.”

“But, Daddy, we have to,” Gracie insisted.

“No, I have to, and I will just as soon as I change my clothes,” he assured his daughter.

“What about your research project?” Leah reminded him in a tone he couldn’t quite read.

“I have teaching assistants working on it, too.”

“Will wonders never cease? Teaching assistants. However did you manage to conjure them up just now?”

“Do I need to buy gas for the mower or is the tank full?” John asked, choosing to ignore her teasing words and her equally teasing smile despite the shaft of warmth the two combined sent straight to his heart.

He wasn’t going to be able to use his work as an excuse to stay away anymore, and she knew it. But it wouldn’t be wise to encourage her gloating. She might be tempted to try to get him to lower his guard even more, and that he couldn’t afford to do around her. He’d only end up telling her things about himself he’d really rather not.

“Looked to me like the tank’s full,” she advised. Then to Gracie she added, “Come on, sweetie, let’s get started on the front flower bed, okay?”

“We’ll definitely have time to buy some roses now, won’t we?” Gracie asked as she and Leah collected the gardening tools already laid out on the patio table.

“If not today, tomorrow for sure,” Leah replied.

“You’ll go with us, too, won’t you, Daddy?”

John hesitated, trying to come up with a reason besides work to say no. But the hopeful look on Gracie’s face, combined with the warning flash in Leah’s eyes, had him saying, instead, “Yeah, sure, I’ll go to the nursery with you. Can’t have you two buying out the place on me like you did when you went grocery shopping without me.”

“He’s actually more worried about all the planting he might have to do later,” Leah said sagely.

“But we’ll help him, won’t we?”

“We’ll help him all he wants,” Leah said, and the look she gave him before she turned away conveyed much more than what her words alone implied.

Watching as Leah and Gracie disappeared around the side of the house, John allowed himself to consider all the ways he could have used Leah’s help but wouldn’t. And he was reminded yet again of how much he’d missed her in all the years she’d been away. She had always been good for his soul; she could be again.

But he couldn’t attempt to rekindle the relationship they’d shared in years past for so many reasons, chief among them that friendship would no longer be enough for him. And intimacy—the kind of ardent sexual intimacy he could easily imagine having with her—demanded an honesty he could never allow himself to express.

Leah tried not to feel too smug about the slight inroad she’d made into John’s icy reserve of the past few days. She hadn’t intended to embarrass him into helping with the yard work. She’d been fully prepared to mow and rake and weed flower beds with Gracie’s limited help. But given the opportunity to draw John into an activity involving his daughter, she’d have been a fool not to take it.

Her only real hope of making the summer a success for Gracie was to engage John’s cooperation. And as long as he kept running off to his office at the university, she hadn’t any hope of doing that. She wanted him to spend time with his daughter, too, and had begun to fear that her constant presence was the main reason he didn’t.

Leah could see how much he loved Gracie, yet she also sensed a puzzling restraint in him toward the little girl. Had the pain of losing Caro been so great that he was now afraid to let himself acknowledge his love for anyone else, including his own daughter? Leah hoped not. Gracie needed him, not at a benevolent distance, but up close and personal, with his deepest emotions fully and completely committed.

“All done here?”

John’s gruff, matter-of-fact voice startled Leah so much that she lost her grip on the flat of pink-and-white petunias she and Gracie had chosen from the rows on display at the nursery. Instinctively John reached around her with both arms and helped her catch it before it hit the ground. His muscular chest pressed against her back, his strong, broad hands covering hers, he stood for several exquisitely long moments, seeming to hold his breath just as she did.

Leah wanted to lean into him and savor the warmth of his body, wanted to tip back her head and smile up at him teasingly as she would have in the past. Instead, she stood as if frozen in place, her heart thudding slowly in her chest, waiting for whatever angry recrimination he would no doubt choose to hurtle her way.

“Aunt Leah, you almost dropped our petunias,” Gracie said, then added with a giggle, “Good thing Daddy was here.”

“A very good thing,” Leah agreed, sending the little girl a grateful smile.

“I didn’t mean to scare you,” John said as he finally eased away from her.

“My fault for not paying attention.”

“Well, pay attention to this,” he said in an almost teasing tone that put Leah in mind of years past. “That is the last flat of flowers going on our tab today, unless one of you wants to walk home. The Jeep is now holding all the plants it can hold and still have room to spare for the three of us. Don’t forget we’re going to have to plant all that stuff, too.”

“I know, Daddy, and I’m gonna help. But we want to stop for burgers and fries first, don’t we, Aunt Leah?”

“Trying to take advantage of my good mood, huh?”

“You’re in a good mood today?” Leah couldn’t help but quip as they waited for John to pay for the plants they’d chosen.

John eyed her quizzically for several seconds, apparently giving her question serious consideration.

“Yes,” he admitted at last, a hint of surprise in his voice. “I am.”

“Must be something in the air,” she offered lightly.

“Or maybe the company I’m keeping.” He held her gaze an instant longer, then scooped Gracie into his arms. “Yeah, it has to be this lovely little girl’s company.”

“Oh, Daddy, you’re so funny sometimes.”

He had meant Gracie of course, Leah told herself as they piled into the Jeep and headed for her niece’s favorite fast-food restaurant. But that didn’t stop her heart from beating faster.

Back at the house again, there was a message waiting for John on the answering machine. A problem had come up at the university lab that required his immediate attention.

“So much for leaving the teaching assistants in charge,” he grumbled after explaining the situation to Leah and Gracie.

“No problem,” Leah told him cheerfully for Gracie’s sake. “The really hard work is all done. We shouldn’t have any trouble putting the plants we bought in the beds after we eat, right, sweetie?”

“Right, Aunt Leah,” the little girl agreed happily enough as she peeled the wrapper off her cheeseburger.

“Don’t try to move the heavier containers,” John instructed, already withdrawing from their company as he headed toward the hallway.

Leah had thought, obviously in error, that he didn’t really want to go to the lab.

“At least eat something first,” she urged, waving a hand at the burgers and fries she’d set out on the table.

“I have to take a shower,” he called over his shoulder. “I’ll eat on the way to the lab.”

He was back in the kitchen in fifteen minutes, wearing khaki pants and a black knit T-shirt, looking so handsome that Leah’s heart ached. Then he was out the door with his food in hand, leaving them with a wave. Leah felt a sense of regret as she heard the Jeep’s engine roar to life.

They had been making some fairly decent progress in the getting-to-know-each-other-again department. For the first time since she’d arrived there Sunday night, she’d felt reasonably relaxed in John’s presence, and he’d seemed reasonably relaxed in hers, as well.

Would he put up the wall of resistance between them when they were next together? she wondered. Would he revert to the man she’d come to dread the past couple of days?

Not if she had anything to say about it, she vowed as she dipped a French fry into ketchup, then munched on it contentedly.

“Why are you smiling, Aunt Leah?”

“I’m thinking about how much fun we had this morning, and how lovely the yard looks now. And I’m thinking that if we get everything planted by tomorrow afternoon, we could plan to have a picnic on Friday.”

“Oh, I love picnics!” Gracie said.

“Well, then, let’s clean up this mess and start putting our flowers in their beds.”

“Do you think my dad would like to go with us on the picnic?”

“Maybe,” Leah replied, careful not to get the little girl’s hopes up too high.

John has always loved going on picnics, too, and with luck, he would have the crisis at the lab under control by Friday. After the way he’d behaved today, she wanted to believe he’d make the effort to be with them again, for Gracie’s sake, if nothing else.

Having him along would be fun for her, too, Leah admitted as she and Gracie finished tidying the kitchen. He had definitely begun to mellow toward her. The more fun things she could plan for them to do together, the more likely he was to mellow even more. And that would be such a good thing…for all of them.

Chapter Four

John stood in front of the refrigerator with the door wide-open, the light from its interior the only light in the kitchen at one-thirty in the morning. Methodically he opened first one plastic container, then another as he tried to decide which of the various leftovers from the meals Leah had prepared appealed most to him. There’d been meat loaf Monday night, the spaghetti he’d already sampled Tuesday night, and tonight…ah, yes, this must be it—chicken in some kind of a cream sauce that included chunks of onion, carrot and mushrooms.

Too good to eat cold from the container, he decided, switching on the light over the stove. With a minimum of clatter, he found a plate to put in the microwave oven, transferred a hefty portion of the chicken and vegetables onto it, then stood by the counter and waited for it to heat.

Embarrassing, really, to steal around his own kitchen in the dead of night eating leftovers when he could have sat down at the table earlier with Leah and Gracie like any sensible person. But he’d set the pattern Monday night, and he wasn’t sure how to break it without seeming obvious. Though obvious about what, he didn’t know.

He’d had a perfect right to join Leah and Gracie for dinner each of the preceding evenings. Not that anyone had kept him away except himself. After the time he’d spent with them that morning, he’d wanted to come home much sooner than he actually had.

He’d gotten sidetracked at the university lab, though, coping with first one unanticipated problem and then another as the afternoon wore on. He’d retreated to his office at last, when everything seemed to be under control, only to have his attention diverted again as he’d made an attempt to clear away part of the mountain of paperwork that had accumulated over the past several months.

It had been almost eight by the time he’d noticed the deepening shadows in the corners of his office and glanced at the clock on his desk to check the time. He could have left then, but all the mowing and raking he’d done earlier in the day finally seemed to have caught up with him. Suddenly he’d felt too tired to do more than stretch out on the old sofa he’d installed for just such an occasion. Just for a few minutes, he’d assured himself, only to awaken several hours later, rested and ready to eat.

The scent of Leah’s chicken and vegetables wafted from the microwave oven, making John’s mouth water and his stomach growl. He opened the door before the timer could beep, grabbed the plate and almost dropped it when the hot china burned his fingers. Muttering a curse, he jostled the plate from hand to hand until he could set in on the table, then he dug a knife and fork from the silverware drawer and grabbed an icy cold beer from the refrigerator.

He really had to try to get on a more reasonable schedule, he admonished himself, twisting the cap off the bottle. He’d be lucky to get back to sleep by three, and then, if their pattern continued, Leah and Gracie would be up at six, waking him, as well.

With a groan, half in pleasure at the wonderful taste of the chicken and half in anticipation of yet another bleary-eyed morning to come, John reached for his beer, tipped it back and took a long swallow, then another. A flicker of movement at the doorway to the den caught his eye, startling him.

He jerked with surprise, and the second swallow of beer went down his throat the wrong way. Eyes watering, he started to cough. Several moments passed before he managed to get his breath back. Then, as he wiped the tears from his eyes with the back of his hand, he realized he was no longer alone in the kitchen.

Leah stood in the doorway, a look of concern in her sleepy eyes. Her shiny brown hair was tousled in an enticingly touchable way, and she wore only an oversize black T-shirt with a silver lightning bolt across the front. The garment barely came to midthigh, accentuating her long, slender legs. To John, it looked sexier than any silk-and-satin nightgown might have.

First short denim shorts and a red tank top without benefit of a bra, then a black T-shirt that should have at least covered her knees. She was making him hot for her, hungry for her, in ways he couldn’t afford to be. And she was doing it innocently, without any overt provocation, because she wouldn’t know, couldn’t know from his behavior toward her so far how swiftly her place in his heart was being restored.

Eight years ago John hadn’t realized that with only the slightest shift in his awareness of Leah, his feelings for her would have quickly exceeded the normal bounds of friendship. He was older than she by several years, so he had assumed the role of her protector early on in their relationship and had taken her quiet, steady, faithful companionship not only at face value, but also for granted.

Then, just as he’d begun to realize Leah was no longer a girl, but a vibrant young woman on the verge of adulthood, Caro had come into their lives, so bright and so beautiful. He’d been dazzled by her, too dazzled to see the recklessness and irresponsibility in her nature, and the constant need to be amused, as well as amusing, that were also a part of her personality.

Even though Leah had been only eighteen, she’d actually been the one who embodied all the things he’d really needed. But imperceptive as he’d been at the time, not to mention ruled more by hormones than common sense, he’d wanted only Caro, and much to his later dismay, Caro had been the one he’d gotten.

“Hey, are you okay?” Leah asked, her soft voice filled with concern.

Instead of scurrying away as he’d thought she would, she joined him in the kitchen, obviously unaware or uncaring that she was intruding on his privacy. Considering her behavior the past few days, John would have bet on the latter. She’d toughened up quite a bit over the past eight years, his little Leah. Only, she wasn’t little anymore, and she certainly wasn’t his.

“I didn’t mean to wake you,” he said, allowing a gruff note into his voice, hoping to chase her back to bed.

“I made the mistake of falling asleep on the sofa earlier,” she replied. “By the time I got into bed, I wasn’t really that tired anymore, so I was half-awake already when I heard you come in.”

She sauntered past him, leaving a hint of lavender scent behind to tease him, opened the refrigerator door, then bent over gracefully to retrieve a beer for herself.

John sat frozen in place, his gaze riveted to the display of lacy panties her pose revealed. Only when she straightened again was he able to look away and quickly take several more slugs of his beer. By the time she’d pulled out a chair and joined him at the table, he had as much of his attention as possible focused on his plate of food.

“There’s some rice to go with the chicken if you want it,” she said. “I can get it for you. It’s in another container.”

“No, thanks. This is fine,” he hastened to assure her, not trusting what he might be tempted to do if he had to watch her bend over in front of the refrigerator again.

He ate another mouthful of chicken while she sipped her beer, then shot a glance her way and saw that she was watching him, not only openly, but intently. Though she was fully awake now, she still looked ready to be dragged back to bed. Feeling the heat rise in his cheeks, he looked down at his plate again.

He had never once thought of taking Leah to bed in the past. Well, he had a few times in the months just before he’d lost what wits he had over Caro. But he’d never let Leah know it, either by word or deed. And that had been years ago.

Even if he could justify initiating a sexual relationship after such a long time, he wasn’t foolish enough to think she’d agree to it. For one thing, her life was in Chicago, and for another, there surely had to be someone special with whom she shared that life—though John couldn’t imagine any man allowing Leah to go off to Montana for an entire summer without pitching a fit.

“Are you sure?” she asked, interrupting his train of thought.

“About what?” he shot back, afraid he’d missed something important she might have said.

“The chicken.”

“Oh, yeah, it’s fine, just like I said. More than fine. It’s really very, very good. Why?”

“You had a funny look on your face, that’s all,” she replied.

“It had nothing to do with the chicken or anything else important,” he assured her, desperate to ward off any further questions concerning his current state of mind. “You’re really quite an excellent cook, Leah.”

“I like to experiment in the kitchen.” She gave an offhand shrug, then added, “It would have tasted even better if you’d joined us for dinner, though. That particular dish is always best hot out of the oven. You do know you’re welcome to join us, don’t you?”

“Yes, of course. It is my house.” Again he used an unnecessarily gruff tone of voice, but again, Leah didn’t appear even the slightest bit fazed by it.

“Thanks for all your help with the yard work today, too. It meant a lot to Gracie having you here, and to me,” she acknowledged lightly, adding the last almost as an afterthought. “I don’t mind weeding beds and planting flowers, but I truly hate pushing a lawn mower.”

“But you would have done it, wouldn’t you.”

“If I’d had to, yes. Anything to keep from being way-laid by another of your neighbors.” She smiled slightly, then added, “You know, John, they’ve been concerned about you. I mean you, personally, not just the condition of your yard.”

“I can’t imagine why. I’m fine.”

He picked up his empty plate and stood, anxious to avoid any further discussion of what he considered his personal business. He wasn’t about to open that door to Leah. Revelations might spill out that wouldn’t do either of them any good.

“You bury yourself in your work at the university, you spend hardly any time at all with a daughter who loves you and needs you, you treat me like an enemy when we were once the best of friends…” She stopped to take a breath.

“Not tonight, Leah. Don’t start on me tonight,” he said, more tired than angry as he set his plate in the sink, then braced his hands on the counter, his back to her.

He felt the warm, gentle, tentative and totally unexpected touch of her hand on his shoulder at the same instant her voice sounded right behind him. “John, please don’t keep pushing me away. I can only imagine the pain you’ve suffered since Caro’s death. I’ve grieved for her, too, and I always will. But surely you know that she wouldn’t have wanted you to stop living yourself just because she’s gone. Caro wasn’t like that. Caro would have expected you to put the pieces of your life back together again, not only for your sake, but for Gracie’s. Caro would have wanted—”

Unable to contain himself any longer, John spun around and grabbed Leah by her upper arms. His intent had been to give her a good shake just to shut her up, but as he towered over her, he made the mistake of meeting her gaze. The vulnerability in her wide, green eyes cut through him like a knife, slicing away the protective layer of anger and frustration inside him and laying bare a longing so deep and so complete it sent a tremor through his body.

His grip on her arms loosened, and his hands slid up to her shoulders. He began to pull her closer, and she came willingly at his urging, resting her hands on his chest. Then the realization of what he was about to do hit him like a wave of icy water, dousing completely the newly kindled flame of his desire.

“You have no idea what Caro wanted, Leah, no idea at all,” he growled, the sudden sense of overwhelming weariness that gripped him echoing in his voice. “And any pain I’ve suffered since her death I’ve deserved. Not that it’s your business one way or another. As for Gracie, I admit I haven’t been available for her the way I should have over the past few months. But I’m more than able, not to mention more than willing, to take care of her on my own now.”

“Then maybe I should leave,” Leah said softly. “Especially if you’re staying away from the house because I’m here.”

For one long moment John couldn’t quite believe he’d heard her right. Instead of snapping back at him angrily or prodding him patiently for an explanation as he’d fully expected she would, she had calmly, quietly, given in to what he wanted. Only it wasn’t what he wanted, not really.

He had Gracie’s well-being to take into consideration, too. Having Leah in their home had been so obviously good for the little girl. That alone was enough to negate any annoyance, large or small, Leah caused him personally.

Yeah, sure, she was annoying the hell out of him, John thought, still looking into her eyes, still savoring the warmth of her hands resting delicately on his chest. Next thing he knew, he’d be telling himself he didn’t want to pull her into an embrace and kiss her senseless—

Letting go of Leah as suddenly as he’d grabbed her, John brushed past her and strode purposefully across the kitchen toward the doorway to the front hall.

“There’s no need for you to leave unless you want to,” he said. “Gracie likes having you here, and as long as she’s happy with the arrangement, then so am I.”

“My sentiments exactly,” Leah replied, the barest hint of anger in her tone.

It was almost as if she knew instinctively that he wanted her there with them, as well, and considered him a coward for not saying so. Or maybe he was just projecting his own thoughts regarding his faintheartedness onto her.

“Then we’re in agreement that you’ll stay for the summer?” He paused in the doorway and glanced back at her, aware that he was holding his breath as he waited for her to answer him.

“Only if you start spending more time with Gracie. You do have teaching assistants to help with your project at the university lab, and you are entitled to some vacation time.”

“I am planning on being more available,” he said.

“Then, yes, we’re in agreement. I’ll stay for the summer.”

“Fine,” he muttered, and with a curt nod that totally belied the sense of relief zinging through him, John turned away again. He walked slowly through the dark house to the staircase, then up to his bedroom, stopping first to check on Gracie.

Snuggled cozily under her quilt, the little girl was sound asleep. Standing just inside her bedroom doorway, he gazed at her with the same sense of wonder and joy that she’d stirred in him the day she’d been born. How happy he’d been then to welcome this child into his life, and how happy he would always be to have her as his precious daughter. Despite the bitter, angry words Caro had hurled at him the night she died, that would never change.

His marriage might have been a lie, his family not really, truly his in the way he’d believed it to be, but he loved Gracie no less. She was the light of his life.

Gracie was also the one who’d brought Leah back into his life. And the one who would keep her there at least a little while longer, and for that, John was more grateful than he could say.

Chapter Five

“What time do you girls usually eat dinner?” John asked.

“Five-thirty or sometimes six o’clock,” Gracie replied, then grinned at her father as she added excitedly, “Why, Daddy? Are you going to be home in time to eat with us tonight?”

Leah smiled, too, as she watched John fill his coffee mug at the counter. She sat at the table with Gracie, the morning paper spread out in front of her, though she hadn’t grasped much of what she’d been trying to read even before John joined them in the kitchen. Her mind kept drifting back to a much earlier hour of the morning when she’d come upon him here and the conversation they’d had.

Oh, right, it had been the conversation she’d had on her mind. She hadn’t thought once about the way he’d held her by the arms, the way his grip had turned into a caress as his hands moved to her shoulders, the way he’d met her eyes, a new and unmistakable awareness in the pale gray depths of his just before he’d stalked off—

“I should be, if that’s okay with you.”

His glance over one shoulder was directed at Leah, and she acknowledged it, her smile widening.

“That would be great, wouldn’t it, Gracie?”

“Oh, yes! You can help us make the pizza, Daddy.”

“We can order pizza,” John began, then apparently caight the subtle shake of Leah’s head. “But making our own sounds like a lot of fun.”

“I thought so, too,” Leah said. “Gracie suggested it, and sometimes she has the best ideas.”

“We won’t start till you get here, okay, Daddy?”

“Okay, Gracie.”

“So don’t be late.”

“I won’t, sweetie.”

He crossed to the table and dropped a kiss on his daughter’s blond, curly hair. For just an instant, as she watched them together, Leah imagined how she would feel if John kissed her goodbye, as well—not on the top of her head, but smack on her mouth.

Wonderful, she decided; it would feel just wonderful.

“What do you two have planned for the day?” John asked Leah as he returned to the counter to collect his mug.

“We’re going to finish planting the flowers we bought,” Leah replied, tantalized by the faint spicy scent of his aftershave.

“There were quite a few, weren’t there.” He offered her a teasing smile that reminded her of years past, then crossed to the outside door and reached for the knob.

Warmed by his easy banter, unexpected as it was, Leah shot him a wry look. “I would say we went a bit overboard at the nursery yesterday, but then somebody might say he told me so.”

“Told you so,” John said, all but hooting with satisfaction, and was gone.

“Do you really think he’ll come home for dinner tonight?” Gracie asked, sounding doubtful after the door closed behind him. “He could get real busy and have to work late again and forget to tell us.”

“He’ll be here, Gracie,” Leah assured the little girl, thinking he would be even if it meant she had to track him down at the university and drag him home personally.

“But sometimes he forgets.”

“Then we’ll give him a call at four o’clock and remind him to come home. How does that sound to you?”

“That sounds like a plan, man,” Gracie answered, giggling with delight at the rhyme she’d made.

“You’re silly sometimes, you know?”

“You, too, Aunt Leah.”

“I do my best.” She reached out and ruffled Gracie’s curls, then pushed away from the table. “Let’s clean up the kitchen first, then it’s planting time again.”

“Can I rinse the dishes and put them in the dishwasher?”

“Sure thing.”

The ringing of the telephone caught Leah by surprise. It was only the second time someone had called John’s house since she’d been there. The first time it had been her father and stepmother, wanting to let her know they’d arrived safely in London.

Leah had suspected they’d also wanted to know how she was getting along with John, and although they hadn’t come right out and asked, she’d kept her conversation light and breezy enough to assure them all was well, even though it hadn’t been at the time. They’d promised to call again from Paris, but they weren’t due to travel there for another week at least, so it probably wasn’t them—

“I’ll get it,” Gracie sang out.

She grabbed the receiver and voiced a cheery hello, then stood quietly listening to whatever the caller was saying, her expression growing wide-eyed. Leah was about to take the receiver from her in case it was a prank call of some sort when Gracie spoke again in a soft, rather breathless voice.

“She’s right here,” the little girl said, then pressed the receiver against her chest and whispered to Leah, “It’s for you. It’s somebody named Kyle. Is he your boyfriend?”

“Kyle?” Leah spoke his name in a whisper of her own.

She wasn’t sure whether the flip-flop she’d felt in her belly had resulted from surprised delight or a twist of pain. Six weeks ago she’d thought she’d seen and heard the last of Kyle O’Connor, and also thought it was just as well.

“Do you want to talk to him, Aunt Leah?” Gracie prodded, still whispering.

“Yes, I do,” she admitted, as much to herself as to the little girl, for reasons she dared not consider too closely.

She took the receiver from Gracie, her palm damp against the plastic casing, then pressed it to her own chest for several long moments as she tried not only to steady her breathing, but to organize her thoughts. To her relief she realized that any pleasure his telephone call had caused her initially was already being nudged aside by an increasing edge of annoyance she knew she had every right to feel.

“Aren’t you going to say anything?” Gracie asked, suddenly concerned.

“Oh, I’m going to say quite a lot, sweetie. Why don’t you start on the dishes?”

As Gracie carried her plate to the sink, then stepped up on the stool to rinse it under the faucet, Leah moved to the opposite side of the kitchen, dragging the telephone cord behind her.

“Kyle? Hello. How are you?” she began, trying with some success to keep her tone neutral.

“Leah, darling, how are you?”

The dark, smoky sound of his voice took Leah back almost a year, to the day she’d first met him. The headmaster of a school for boys in Chicago, Kyle O’Connor had been attending the same educators’ workshop as Leah. They’d ended up sitting side by side at the luncheon and had struck up a conversation easily enough. An attractive, intelligent older man, twenty years her senior, he had flattered her with his interest and attention.

He had sought her out after the workshop ended, as well, and had invited her to have a drink with him. Over glasses of wine in the hotel bar, Leah had found out that he was separated from his wife of eighteen years, that he had two sons, one thirteen, the other sixteen, and that he was as eager as she for the companionship of someone bright and kind and funny.

“I’m fine, Kyle, just fine,” Leah replied, firmly setting aside memories of the past.

“I had the devil of a time getting your telephone number. I finally weaseled it out of your landlady. I had to pretend I was desperate, only, I guess I wasn’t really pretending.” He laughed then in a self-deprecating manner, obviously amused at himself, one of his more charming and disarming traits. “So you’ve gone back to Montana. Lovely little place to vacation, I suppose. But your landlady said you were planning on staying there all summer. Tell me that’s not true, Leah.”

“It’s true, Kyle. I’m staying here all summer.” Leah hesitated, not sure what else she had to say to him, or more accurately, not sure she even had anything else to say to him.

She was confused by his sudden interest in her whereabouts and also irritated. He had no right to question how she’d chosen to spend her summer holiday. Nor did he have any right to condemn the choice she’d made.

“I’d much rather have you here, darling.”

“I’m not sure exactly what you’re trying to say to me, but the last time we talked, you told me you’d decided to get back together with your wife for the sake of your children,” Leah reminded him in a matter-of-fact tone. “I remember the moment quite well. We were having dinner at the Italian restaurant near my apartment building. You were suitably apologetic, but resolute, and I agreed that you were making the right choice.”

Kyle’s wife had been the one to file for divorce and the one who had talked of reconciliation almost a year later. Before that, Leah had hoped her relationship with him might eventually end in marriage. She had liked him quite a lot and had thought that love would come as they worked toward building a future together. She had gotten to know his children, and they had seemed to enjoy her company as much as she’d enjoyed theirs.

But once she’d found out that Kyle hadn’t rejected out of hand his wife’s offer to reconcile, Leah had begun letting go of those hopes and dreams, much as she had done with John when his feelings for Caro had become apparent. Only, she hadn’t cared for Kyle nearly as much as she had for John, she acknowledged now. While the end of her relationship with Kyle had saddened her, she had also been somewhat relieved to finally admit that much as she had wished he could be the love of her life, he would never be.

“I realize now that I should have given it more thought,” Kyle said. “She’s changed and so have I. We talked about it and agreed we might as well stay together for the boys’ sake, but she also told me that she doesn’t mind if I…see someone else.”

Stunned by what he was proposing, Leah couldn’t speak for several seconds. Then with an utter sense of calm, she crossed to where the base of the telephone hung on the wall.

“I don’t mind, either, Kyle, but that someone isn’t going to be me,” she said very quietly, then carefully cradled the receiver.

Taking a deep breath, Leah tried to quell the anger building up inside her. Had he really thought she would scurry back to Chicago after a call from him and take on the role of the other woman? Did he honestly believe she valued herself that little?

She hadn’t wanted to have only an affair with Kyle O’Connor. She would have never started seeing him in the first place if she hadn’t believed that he fully intended to go through with his divorce. Encouraging him to return to his wife hadn’t been easy, but she had been convinced that it was best for all concerned at the time. She was even surer of it now.

“Who was that?” Gracie asked from her perch by the kitchen sink.

Wondering how much the little girl had overheard, Leah smiled and shrugged with feigned nonchalance.

“Just a friend of mine calling from Chicago. He wanted to know how I was getting along here in the wilds of Montana, and I told him I was getting along just fine.”

“You sounded kind of growly when you were talking to him. Are you mad at him?”

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