Summer of Her Cowboy

Never fall in love. Never get married. Logan Hunt knows all the things he doesn’t want. But his daughter needs a summer nanny and darn if Grace Flynn doesn’t fit the bill...and then some. The sweetly alluring kindergarten teacher is showing the die-hard bachelor a thing or two about fatherhood. It’s her effect on his libido—and heart—that’s keeping him up nights.

Did Grace really think her crush on Logan would magically vanish when she moved in with him and his adorable little girl? Still, she never thought the broody rancher with the intense baby blues would turn out to be the cowboy of her dreams! All she ever wanted was a real home. Could her place to belong be with this unexpected family man?

Logan bent and lifted her but wasn’t fully prepared when Grace slid her arms around his neck.

He knew what a come-hither expression looked like and had even experienced it more times than he could count. But he’d never felt the power of it before Grace. He didn’t think she even realized how she was looking at him. As if she wanted him, too.

This was big trouble.

It would be so easy to touch his mouth to hers. Only a couple of inches separated them and he ached to know if she tasted of wine, cake and some magic that was all her. Somewhere close by, he heard the chirp of an unlocking car. The sound snapped him out of the sensual trance and he moved over to the truck to set her gently in the passenger seat. It was just a beat too long before she stopped touching him.

“Thanks.”

“Buckle up.”

He closed the door and realized how stupid he sounded. She wasn’t a kid but a grown woman, a fact not lost on him after holding her exceptional curves in his arms.

* * *

The Bachelors Of Blackwater Lake: They won’t be single for long!

Just What the Cowboy Needed

Teresa Southwick

www.millsandboon.co.uk

TERESA SOUTHWICK lives with her husband in Las Vegas, the city that reinvents itself every day. An avid fan of romance novels, she is delighted to be living out her dream of writing for Mills & Boon.

For everyone who wants a happy ending as much as I do and believes that love will find a way.

Contents

Cover

Back Cover Text

Introduction

Title Page

About the Author

Dedication

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

Epilogue

Extract

Copyright

Chapter One

Grace Flynn’s heart actually skipped a beat, and she’d always thought that happened only in romance novels.

Logan Hunt stood in the doorway of his house, and her worst fears came true. Her first impression was officially correct. He wasn’t a troll and that was not good news.

“Hello, Grace. Nice to see you again.”

“Nice to see you, too.” And that was the absolute truth, darn it.

She’d hoped her attraction to the rancher was an interview thing that would magically disappear on her first day in his employ. Well, she’d just arrived for work and her reaction was even stronger than the last time. Burying her head in the sand wasn’t an option. She had to face the fact that she would be living in his house and taking care of his five-year-old daughter for the next eight weeks. This strong response to the man meant the job would be more difficult and complicated than it should be.

On the bright side, and it could just be her stereotyping, men as handsome as this one were usually jerks. The kind who would string a woman along, hint at a future and a family while letting her pour her heart, soul and savings into him and his house, then decide he didn’t love her after all. That jerk had used her and stomped on her heart, but being the fool who fell for a pretty face was on her.

“Are you all right, Grace?”

“Yes, fine.” She didn’t sound breathless, did she? Oh, please no.

Call her pessimistic and cynical, but it wasn’t a matter of if Logan would live up to the stereotype, but when. She hoped his inner jerk would come out soon so her heart would stop hammering like a drum at a Fourth of July parade.

“Are you sure?” He was giving her a funny look while standing in the doorway.

Not so much standing as filling it, she thought. He was very tall and boyish looking with his brown hair and blue eyes. Although there was an intensity in those eyes that was all man.

“I’m fine, really. It was a long drive from Buckskin Pass.”

“I’ve been there. Pretty town.”

“I like it.”

“Please, come in.”

“Thanks.” She was clutching the handle of her wheeled suitcase and started to roll it inside.

“Let me get that for you.”

His fingers touched hers and she felt like a cartoon character whose heart beat so hard and fast you could see the outline of it jumping out of her chest. “Thank you.”

“Do you have more in the car?”

“Of course. Packing a lot of stuff is what we do. Women, I mean. I’m a woman.”

“Yeah. I noticed.” When his gaze met hers, his polite cowboy manner slipped a little. It was the way a man looks at a woman when he likes what he sees, giving her a glimpse of something earthy and primal. And exciting.

That moment of chemistry touched a core of femininity and expectation simmering inside her. Wow. From September to June she was a kindergarten teacher at Buckskin Pass Elementary School. Without a doubt she could say she had never exchanged a hot look like that with her boss, the principal. But her boss for the summer was a different story.

Grace needed to say something to... What? Break the ice? She was so hot right now, there was no way anything in her immediate perimeter could freeze.

“I’m looking forward to seeing Cassie again. Where is your adorable daughter?”

“She’s with her mom doing wedding errands. Tracy will drop her off when they’re finished.”

“Okay.”

Grace had met his ex and liked her a lot. Tracy mentioned that she and Logan had never married, but shared custody of their daughter, although he had her only on weekends. But she was tying the knot and taking an extended honeymoon, so he was keeping their little girl here at the ranch. Since he had to work and needed child care, Grace had been hired to look after her. It would be interesting to know why Logan and Tracy had never married. Why the two of them, who had created a child together and seemed to get along perfectly, hadn’t worked out romantically.

“Follow me. I’ll show you where you’ll be bunking.”

The statement was so macho cowboy, she could practically hear the creak of saddle leather and the clip-clop of horses’ hooves. Or was that just her heart again?

This was the first time she’d seen his house. They’d met in downtown Blackwater Lake at the Grizzly Bear Diner for the interview. So far she liked what she saw. They were standing in the small entryway just inside the front door. There was a living room to the right, dining on the left. Wood furniture looked like well-loved antiques, while the sofa, love seat, chair and ottoman were contemporary, compatible and homey. Somehow it all worked but wasn’t what she’d expected from the handsome rancher.

Grace followed him up the stairs. “So, Logan, I checked you out—”

“Oh?” He glanced over his shoulder, but his face gave nothing away.

She couldn’t tell whether or not that bothered him. “It’s the smart thing to do. I’ll be living in your house for eight weeks.”

“And looking after my daughter,” he reminded her.

“The thing is that you had me checked out, right? I’d expect nothing less from her father.”

“Of course I did.”

“So it works both ways.” Grace was watching for signs that his inner jerk was scratching to be let out. “Can you blame me?”

“Nope.” He reached the top of the stairs, then turned right.

“Don’t you want to know what I found out?”

He glanced over his shoulder again and appeared amused about something. “As it happens, I know all about me.”

Cute, she thought. Actually, he was very cute when he let down his guard a little. She would really like to see what he looked like when he laughed.

“That was more of a conversation starter. Because I found out that this land has been in your family for four generations.”

That boggled her mind. He could easily trace his ancestry back to his great-great-grandparents. She, on the other hand, didn’t even know who her parents were. That’s what happened when shortly after birth you were wrapped in a towel and left at a fire station. Logan had an impressive family tree; she had nothing but question marks.

“I’m aware of that,” he finally said.

She was staring at his broad back and wide shoulders and swore it wasn’t her imagination that he tensed up. “Happily, nothing bad popped up in the background check I did.”

“Good to know.”

“And Cassie’s mother vouched for you when I interviewed with her.”

“What if Tracy was lying?”

“She wasn’t.”

He stopped in front of a bedroom. “How do you know?”

“I just do.”

“You’re a good judge of people?”

“Yes.” Mostly. Her biggest lapse in judgment was with Lance the Loser.

Everyone was entitled to one monster of a mistake, right? She’d been a kid in the foster care system and had to move from place to place. Growing up, she’d dreamed of having a house of her very own. She’d worked really hard and saved to do that, then lost it on Lance. That’s what happened when a girl took a man at his word but got nothing in writing to protect herself.

There’d been no choice but to start all over again saving for a house, and after this summer job, she would have enough for the down payment. Again.

“So, you’re a good judge of people and still took this job?” Logan said.

“Is there something you want to tell me?” She was pretty sure he was joking and that was supposed to be a sassy comeback, but Grace couldn’t tell if she’d pulled it off.

“You did the research.” Logan shrugged and one corner of his mouth quirked up before he carried her suitcase into the spacious room, then set it on a cedar chest at the foot of the bed. “I hope you’ll be comfortable here.”

There was a queen-size bed with brass head- and footboards. An old-fashioned wedding-ring-patterned spread and throw pillows in dusty rose and green covered the mattress. On the wall over the swivel rocker hung a flowered hatbox and vintage prints in oval frames. One was a needlepoint that said, “A Family Stitched Together with Love Seldom Unravels.” The mirrored dresser and matching armoire looked old but well cared for.

“This is a girl’s room,” Grace observed.

“It was my sister’s.” He pointed. “The bathroom is through there.”

“Lucky girl had it all to herself.”

“Not luck so much as practical. Mom and Granddad figured the line would move faster in the morning if Jamie didn’t hog the facilities. There’s another one down the hall. My two brothers and I used that one. Cassie’s room is next to it.”

“Wow, four kids.” And no mention of his father. “Must have been fun growing up.”

“Not really.”

It would have been so easy for him to say his childhood was idyllic and carefree. How would she know? Well, except for the glaring omission of any reference to his father. But, really, he could have taken the easy way out and glossed over it, but he didn’t. She liked that about him. And yet it made her considerably more curious to know details.

“I’ll show you the rest of the place,” Logan said, before she could ask anything.

Each room was cozier than the last. The kitchen looked recently remodeled with granite countertops, a large island and wood floor. A circular oak table and four matching chairs filled the nook overlooking a manicured backyard with a pool.

Grace had never had a house of her own and was admittedly sensitive to a homey vibe. That said, after seeing Logan Hunt’s whole house there was no denying love at first sight. The realization made the ache inside her bigger. All she’d ever wanted was somewhere to belong with roots that went deep. A place that was all hers, that she could call home.

On the plus side, when this summer job was over she would have the money to put a down payment on property with her name on the title. She could picture it in her mind, a positive affirmation. Until then, her work environment was awesome.

But every plus had a minus, and his name was Logan Hunt.

* * *

Logan was doing his damnedest to be a good father, but very often his daughter had a way of proving that he was spitting into the wind.

“Daddy, you got soap in my eyes.” Cassie was sitting in the tub, rubbing her eyes.

“Sorry, baby girl.” He let the bathwater out, then turned on the tub’s spigot and used a plastic glass to pour fresh water over her head. “Is that better?”

She nodded. “I’m cold.”

“Got a towel right here.” He lifted her out and wrapped the thick terry cloth around her. “Let’s get you dry and in your nightgown, then I’ll brush your hair.”

“I don’t like that part.” She had blue eyes, light brown hair and the prettiest pout in the world. People always said she looked like him. He would take it, minus the pout part.

“Do you want Grace to brush your hair?”

Cassie thought for a moment. “Maybe you should show her how first.”

That meant sharing confined bathroom space with her, but there didn’t seem a way out of it. “Okay. I’ll go get her while you finish drying off and put on your nightgown.”

“Okay.”

Logan left and found Grace in her room unpacking. He stood in the open doorway, taking in the fresh pretty sight of her. The first time he’d seen Grace Flynn was when he interviewed her. It felt as if he’d been slugged in the gut with a sledgehammer. The second time was this afternoon when she’d arrived for work, and the sledgehammer felt more like a bulldozer. She wasn’t cover-model beautiful, but that mouth... Her full lips looked as soft as cotton candy and twice as sweet. More temptation than he was prepared to deal with.

The problem was, she was perfect for this job, except the part where Logan wanted to find out if she might be attracted to him, too. He would know only if he made a move on her and that was out of the question. But accepting that didn’t make the wanting go away. Why couldn’t she be a sweet old lady? Or even a crabby one who was great with kids? Since luck had never been on his side, there was no reason to hope for a change now.

Hiring her to take care of his daughter was trouble with a capital T, but by the time he’d met her Cassie’s mom had all but signed her onto the payroll. His approval was more symbolic than anything, and her credentials were impeccable. No way could he admit he was the problem and why that was. So Grace was here for the next eight weeks.

God help him.

He cleared his throat. “Grace—”

“Oh, my God!” She whirled around, dropping the stack of panties and bras she’d been about to put in a drawer. “I didn’t know you were there.”

“Sorry. Didn’t mean to sneak up on you.” It hadn’t escaped his notice that her panties were skimpy, lacy and at least one pair was red and one black. Might have been a pink one, too, but verifying would mean staring and that wasn’t smart. Sweat beaded on his forehead. “Maybe I should wear a bell around my neck.”

“Works for me.” She blew out a breath. “Is there something you needed?”

That was a loaded question if he’d ever heard one, but that’s not what she meant. “Cassie’s finished in the tub and I’m going to brush out her hair. She thought you might want to watch, in case you have to do it.”

“Of course. Hair brushing doesn’t have a steep learning curve, but she’s only five. Easing into the situation to make the transition smoother is a great idea.”

“She does have a mind of her own. Sometimes it’s better just to go with it.” He turned away, knowing she was crossing the room to follow. Not that he was psychic. The scent of her perfume grew stronger and settled inside him. He was pretty sure he could find her in a pitch-black room.

In the bathroom Cassie had pulled some girlie nightgown over her head and stood waiting for them. She grinned. “Hi, Grace. I’m all clean.”

“I see that. And your hair is all wet.”

“I know. Daddy’s going to show you how he combs all the tangles out. He learned from Mommy.”

He grabbed the special spray hair product and squirted the liquid on her head, then picked up the wide-toothed comb to slowly drag it from her forehead all the way past her shoulders. “Are you sure you don’t want to get all this cut off?”

“No!” Cassie and Grace spoke together.

Logan looked from the small female to the taller one. “I guess it’s unanimous.”

“Your hair is gorgeous,” Grace told the little girl. “Don’t let him talk you into cutting it.”

“No way.” She folded her arms over her chest and glared. “I’m glad Grace is here.”

“Yeah.” He met her gaze and forced himself not to look at her mouth. If it was up to him, he would advise her to get out before his bad rubbed off on her. Surely there was a woman over sixty in Blackwater Lake who could do this job.

“I’m not going anywhere, sweetie,” Grace said. “But I have to say your dad is doing a great job.”

“You sound surprised.” He continued working out the tangles with the comb.

“Maybe a little. She has thick hair, but you make it look easy.”

“Daddy says it’s not that different from brushing the horses.” Cassie giggled, and her tone said she liked ratting him out.

Humor sparkled in Grace’s eyes. “So you use a pricey hair product to detangle horse hair in order to not hurt their delicate scalp?”

“What if I said yes?” He couldn’t resist smiling at that.

“I’d say you have some very pampered horses here on the ranch.”

On one knee behind his daughter, Logan slowly pulled the plastic comb through the long hair as gently as possible. He wouldn’t deliberately hurt her for anything. “Horses are a business asset, and it wouldn’t be smart to neglect them. They serve a purpose and need to be maintained. Just like a car or any other piece of equipment.”

“Agreed.” But she looked puzzled. “And yet, I can’t help wondering about the context of the conversation that you had with Cassie, comparing her hair to brushing a horse.”

“This little girl wouldn’t hold still.”

Cassie nodded, throwing off the comb and proving the truth of his words. “Daddy said the horses didn’t move while he was brushin’ ’em. And he betted me I couldn’t be like a horse.”

“Did he now?” Grace nodded her approval. “Who won the bet?”

“Daddy did.” She sighed. “Holding still is really hard.”

“Are the horses older than five?”

“Not all of them.” Logan stopped combing and looked up at her. “But I see where you’re going with this. Chronological age doesn’t work the same in horses as it does in humans.”

Cassie had the expression on her face that said she thought he hung the moon. “My daddy knows everything. Don’t you, Daddy?”

Logan dreaded the day when she would find out for sure that he didn’t know very much of anything. “I know enough to take care of them and keep them healthy. And when it’s necessary to consult someone else who knows more than me.”

“And you can ride really good, too. Daddy, you promised to teach me how when I was five. And now I am.”

His stomach knotted with dread. When he’d promised her that, it had sounded so far in the future. Now, suddenly she was five. Next thing he knew she’d be dating boys and asking to drive a car.

“It’s getting late. Why don’t we talk about this later, baby girl?”

“That’s what you always say.” The glare on her face said he was one broken promise away from her realizing that he didn’t hang the moon. “And I’m not a baby.”

He glanced at Grace and couldn’t tell what she was thinking. That pushed him to explain. “It’s not just about being five, honey. You have to be strong enough to handle a horse. To show him who’s boss.”

“And to get strong,” Grace interjected, “you have to eat right and get enough sleep.”

Logan shot her a grateful look for the support and the distraction that pulled his ass out of the fire. He stood and looked down at his daughter. “That’s right.”

“Do you like reading a story at bedtime, Cassie?” Grace asked.

The little girl turned serious—and literal. “I don’t know how to read yet. But in September I’m going to big-girl school so I can learn.”

“How about if I read?” Grace pressed her full lips together, probably to hold back a laugh.

Too bad, Logan thought. He’d heard her laugh and liked it a lot. But he didn’t count. Cassie’s opinion was the one that mattered and she seemed completely taken with Grace. As comfortable as if she’d known her forever. That was the most important thing. More significant than Grace’s pretty sun-streaked brown hair and big hazel eyes.

That did it. No one would ever accuse him of being poetic, so it was a clear sign that the time had come to make himself scarce.

“Okay, baby girl—” He saw the rebellion on the little freckled face and held up his hand. “My bad. You’re not a baby. But I’m still going to tuck you into bed, then Grace can read you a story.”

“Okay.”

Logan took her small hand and they walked to her room. Then he picked her up and set her gently on the mattress before pulling the covers over her. “Sleep tight. I’ll see you in the morning.”

“Daddy, don’t you want to hear the story, too?”

“I’d love to but—” He needed space. “This will give you and Grace a chance to get to know each other. Remember, I won’t be around much because I have to work and run the ranch. That’s my job.”

“So Grace is like Mary Poppins,” Cassie said.

“The movie?”

“Yes. Mary Poppins comes to take care of kids and she does magic. When she goes away at the end the whole family is happy.”

Logan looked at the woman he’d hired. “I don’t know if Grace can do magic, but she’s here to watch out for you. Most of the time you’ll be with her.”

“You still have to teach me to ride a horse, Daddy.”

He ignored that and it went into the file of not a hill he was going to die on tonight. Leaning down, he kissed her forehead. “Get some sleep so you grow big and strong.”

Logan stood in the hall for a few moments, listening to the sound of Grace’s voice reading Cassie’s favorite Dr. Seuss book. With a sigh he turned away and headed downstairs, where he was going to try like hell not to think about that woman’s sexy underwear on the floor of her room. Or how she might look wearing nothing but those red panties. A good single-malt Scotch might help with that, but liquor traditionally tore down walls and willpower, which was the complete opposite of his current goal.

Coffee was a safer bet, so he poured some that was left over from this morning into a mug and warmed it in the microwave, then headed to his downstairs home office for the inevitable computer work. He wasn’t sure how much time had passed when he heard a knock and glanced over to see Grace in the doorway.

“Sorry to interrupt. I just thought you should know that Cassie is asleep.”

“Good. Thanks.” He started to swivel back to the computer monitor.

“Can I talk to you? About Cassie,” she added, as if his distancing himself from her was obvious.

“Of course. Have a seat.” The invitation was automatic because he didn’t want her to get comfortable enough to stick around.

“Thanks.” She sat in one of the club chairs in front of his desk.

“Is there a problem?” He was studying her and saw the color that rose into her cheeks. What was that about?

“No.” The response was quick and a little sharp. “Your daughter is wonderful.”

“She’s the best.” And deserved someone without his shortcomings as a father. Unfortunately, he was what she got.

“I just need to know what you expect of me.”

He expected that her skin was even softer than it looked, and if he touched his mouth to hers... There it was. His shortcomings as a man were scratching to get out. He shook his head to clear it. “I’m not sure what you mean.”

“When I interviewed we talked mostly about my qualifications and obviously my job is to watch over Cassie and keep her safe.”

“Did Tracy explain that she thought it best to bring you in before her wedding so Cass can get used to the arrangement? Also, she has a million things to do to get ready for her day. And by the time she leaves on the honeymoon, she’ll feel comfortable that everything with our daughter is going smoothly?”

“Yes. She said she’ll be gone six weeks.”

“Right. So, we’re good—”

“Wait. I know you work long hours and won’t be around to ask, so it would be good to go over the questions I’ve thought of, like... How do you want her time structured? Tracy said my application for this job stood out because I teach kindergarten and Cassie will be starting in September. Do you want activities channeled for learning? Or strictly fun?”

Logan had no idea. This was Tracy’s deal. She was Cassie’s mom and made all the decisions. Since he only ever had his daughter on weekends, Logan deferred to her mother’s maternal instincts and judgment. He always had. His upbringing was so screwed up that he had no business deciding anything for his daughter.

He looked at Grace and hoped the panic didn’t show. “You’re the expert in that department. Do you think she needs learning activities all summer?”

“She’s really bright, so probably not. But I can plan some things to do that are fun, and she won’t even know she’s learning.”

“That sounds good.”

“For what it’s worth, I think kids should be carefree while they can be. Responsibility comes soon enough.”

It had come too soon for him. Logan was just a kid himself when his mom took her four children and left his wealthy, cheating father. They ended up homeless, even though she waitressed and cleaned houses, doing her best to take care of them. Logan took on being head of the family to protect her and his siblings. He’d been twelve then and didn’t recommend it for any kid.

“Okay,” he finally said. “Fun first. No dedicated learning during the summer. Good talk. I’m glad—”

“Wait. Something else I need to ask.”

“Shoot.” He held in a sigh.

“As far as structuring time... Do you need me to do housekeeping? Cooking? Anything like that?”

“I have someone who comes in once a week, so probably not. But cooking for Cassie and you is something you’ll need to handle.”

“No problem. I’m happy to plan meals and make a plate for you, if you’d like.”

There was a sweetness in her voice, an expression in her eyes, a softness that any man could get used to. And it pierced the hollow emptiness inside him. He was normally dead tired when he finished work at night, and that obviously lowered his resistance. It was his only excuse for saying, “That would be nice.”

“Great. Pleased to do it.” And she smiled as if that was the truth.

“So, if there’s nothing else...”

“Just one more thing.”

There always was. “Okay. What is it?”

“Why don’t you want to teach Cassie to ride a horse?”

“What makes you think I don’t?” He didn’t, but that was beside the point.

“I read between the lines,” Grace said. “The fact that you always say you’ll talk about it later coupled with her protest that she’s not a baby. Apparently she feels treated like one.”

Logan was pretty sure that at this point in a conversation a mother would fall back on “because I’m the mom and know best.” He couldn’t do the dad version because he had no idea what the blueprint of a good one looked like. All he could think to say was, “What’s your point?”

“Just that I live in a ranching community and teach kindergarten. Lots of children learn to ride even younger than Cassie. So what are you afraid of?”

That he’d be outed as a fraud? The bad that he grew up with was carved into him and would somehow come out and hurt his daughter? “I’m not afraid of anything. But I gave my word to Tracy that our child will be in one cute, adorable piece when she comes back from her honeymoon. You’ve been hired to help me do that.”

“Right.” Her tone said she’d noticed he hadn’t actually answered her question about teaching Cassie to ride. “That’s it, then. Good night, Logan.”

He watched the sway of her hips as she left his office, then let out a long breath. Cassie would be fine when this was all over because he’d walk through fire to make sure of it, but he wasn’t so sure about himself.

Grace Flynn was unexpected, and nine times out of ten that was not a good thing.

Chapter Two

The next morning after a late breakfast, Cassie wanted to have a tea party outside on the front porch. It was a spectacular late June day and Grace didn’t see any reason to say no.

“Let’s get our supplies together,” she said.

In the spacious family room a very large flat-screen TV was mounted on the wall above the rock fireplace and oak mantel. There was also a very large area in a corner beside it where the little girl’s toys were stored. The two of them stood side by side looking at it and taking stock of what they would need.

“Do you want to sit on a blanket and spread out? Or use the outside furniture or your play table? And before you answer, keep in mind that whatever we take outside with us has to be brought back in.”

The little girl thought for a moment. “There are only two chairs on the porch, and my table is too little for Daddy. So maybe a blanket, just in case he has time to play there will be enough room for him.”

“Does he play with you often?”

“No. Never.”

Logan had made it clear that running a ranch took up most of his time and not to expect him to be around much. But there was sadness behind this little girl’s resignation and, apparently, a dash of hope that he might one day have a moment to stop and hang with her, if tea party seating to accommodate his size was anything to go by. If they were talking his sex appeal, Grace couldn’t imagine a venue spacious enough to contain it. Just an observation, not personal or anything.

“Okay,” she said. “A blanket it is.”

An old quilt was neatly folded among the games and toys. Grace grabbed it along with a mesh bag full of pink cups, saucers, a teapot and plastic utensils. She took the string handles, then slipped them over her arm. “We’ll need this.”

“And people, too. But who can I bring?” Cassie tapped her lip thoughtfully. “Ariel has a time-out.”

Grace pressed her lips together to hold back her amusement. This child sounded like a miniature adult, and it was so adorable. When she could talk without laughing she asked, “What did Ariel do to get in trouble?”

“She talked back to her mom. And being tired and crabby is no excuse. Moms get tired and crabby, too. But Daddy never does.” She picked up another doll and shook her head. “Ella can’t go either. Her mom said she had to eat her vegetables and she gave them to the dog.”

Grace knelt down and scooped up a soft, pink terry-cloth baby. “How about this cutie?”

“No.” Cassie shook her head. “She was whining and her mommy ran out of patience.”

Grace noticed that this child was projecting her own experiences on the dolls, and the discipline was clearly mom-centered. “Do their dads ever give them a time-out?”

“No. The dads just smile and pat their heads.” There was a wistful quality in her voice, then she brightened. “I know who to bring. Abigail and Hattie. They’ve been very good and kept their rooms neat and went to bed without complaining.”

“Okay, then.” Grace watched the child grab two dolls around the neck because her arms were too little to carry both with dignity. “Can you handle those by yourself, kiddo?”

“Yes,” she answered proudly.

“I think we might need a blueberry muffin to go along with our tea.” Grace had made a batch the previous evening and noticed that Logan ate more than one before he left the house just shy of dawn this morning.

Cassie met her gaze, eyes solemn and hopeful. “That’s a good idea. But it might spoil my appetite for lunch.”

“Hmm.” She didn’t want to break rules, but maybe there was wiggle room. “Lunch isn’t for a while yet, and if you and I share just one muffin with Abigail and Hattie, that would probably be okay.”

The little girl grinned. “You’re right. Goody!”

“It’s unanimous, then.”

Cassie frowned. “What does that mean?”

“It means that you and I agree,” Grace explained, then looked at the dolls the child was hanging on to. “Although we should ask Abigail and Hattie whether or not they would like some muffin with their tea.”

Cassie looked from one to the other doll. “They both said yes. It’s ’nanimous.”

Imagination with a dollop of rule breaking was a beautiful thing, Grace thought, knowing that was the kindergarten teacher in her talking. She went into the kitchen and took one of the blueberry muffins out of the leftover container, then joined the little girl on the grass. Together they spread out the blanket, propped up the dolls and arranged plastic plates and utensils in front of all tea party participants.

In the distance you could see the lake and the mountains beyond. The view took her breath away. The barn and corral were at the bottom of the rise, and she could see several horses prancing and playing. Then she sat cross-legged with her back to the sight. At her interview, Logan had mentioned he raised cattle and was doing a little horse breeding, too.

She hadn’t seen him since last night in his study and didn’t have a clue when their paths would cross again, although his daughter was insistent about having room for him should he show up for the tea party. Grace’s heart skipped at the thought and she did her best to ignore the involuntary reaction. Anyway, it was silly. Cassie had told her he never showed up to play.

“Can you cut up the muffin?” Cassie asked. “Abigail and Hattie are gettin’ hungry.”

“My apologies, ladies,” she said to the dolls, and Cassie giggled. “Kiddo, if you would pour tea for our guests, I will take care of the snacks.”

Grace didn’t know whether or not the plastic play knives had been washed, so she decided to break up the muffin with her hands, as evenly as possible.

“Here you go, Abigail. And some for you, Hattie,” she said, placing a bite in front of the blonde and brunette dolls.

“Thank you.” Cassie used a high-pitched, pretend voice, obviously channeling either Abigail or Hattie. Then she wolfed down her share of the treat.

Grace’s mouth was full when she heard footsteps. The hairs on her neck stood up, and there was a hitch in her breathing. It wasn’t necessary to see him to know Logan was behind her, and if there was a God in heaven, she would not choke on her blueberry muffin.

Then he moved into view and spoke in the wonderful, deep voice that turned her insides to mush. “What’s going on here?”

“Daddy!” Cassie was clearly excited to see him. “Grace let me have a tea party with my dolls. We shared a muffin and it’s ’nanimous we won’t spoil our appetites.”

“Those muffins are pretty good.” There was male appreciation in his eyes, the kind that was reserved for food.

The way to a man’s heart is through his stomach.

Grace wished that saying hadn’t popped into her head because it made her face flush. “I’m glad you liked them.”

“It wasn’t necessary for you to make them last night,” he said.

She shrugged. “You had all the ingredients and I like to bake.”

“I like to eat,” Cassie chimed in.

Logan laughed. “It is kind of important.”

“Daddy, you should have tea with us. It’s only pretend, but Abigail and Hattie are too full to eat so they’ll share with you.” Her little face took on an earnest, pleading expression.

“Oh, honey, it looks like fun but—” He sighed “—I came up here because I have to eat lunch and then get back to work.”

“But it’s too early,” she said.

“Not for me. I’ve been working since before the sun came up.”

“While I was still sleepin’?”

He knelt on one knee beside her. “That’s right.”

“You must be tired. And really hungry,” she said thoughtfully. “I have an idea.”

“Oh?”

The tone was cautious, uneasy, and the look on his face said he’d rather walk barefoot on boulders than hear what his daughter was going to suggest.

“You should bring your lunch outside and we’ll keep you company. Me and Abigail and Hattie and Grace.”

Grace watched his reaction closely and couldn’t quite put it in the fear category, but there was a definite dash of discomfort there.

“I sure wish I could, honey. But I have a busy afternoon and I need to eat quick.”

“But, Daddy, it won’t take that long.”

“Maybe next time.”

“Ookay.” There was disappointment in her voice along with a measure of acceptance, as if the suggestion had been a long shot in the first place. Clearly she’d been turned down before.

“I’m really sorry.” He held out his arms and without hesitation the little girl stood and moved into them, sliding her arms around his neck.

When his hold slackened, Cassie stepped away and looked at him a little sadly. “When I hug you, you always let go first.”

“Do I?”

Grace didn’t believe Cassie intended to hurt his feelings, but the words had sliced into him and hit their mark. It was clear by the tortured look in his eyes.

She really felt his pain and wanted so badly to say that five or ten minutes wouldn’t make a difference to the horses and cows but could mean everything to his child. She opened her mouth, and he happened to be looking right at her.

A muscle jerked in his jaw. “Something on your mind?”

Just in time, she closed off the words and shook her head.

“Okay, then.” He smiled at Cassie. “I’ll see you tonight.”

“Okay.” She watched wistfully as he disappeared inside. “Mommy says the very best hugs are the ‘never let go’ kind.”

“I know what she means, sweetie.” And that’s all she could say really.

Because it wasn’t in her job description to comment on the father/daughter relationship, no matter how much she was tempted.

* * *

Logan was pretty sure Grace thought he was the lowest life-form on the planet for not joining the tea party yesterday. She’d almost said something but then checked the words, and he was glad she’d kept them to herself. Except he hadn’t been able to get her disapproving look out of his mind. She wasn’t very good at hiding her feelings, but he had his reasons—and they were good ones.

He’d been a kid living in a car with his younger siblings when he figured out that behind his mother’s optimistic mask was fear. And that was his father’s fault. No, he knew Grace’s opinion of him ranged somewhere between snake and slimy single-cell organism. He’d had a dream last night and no expert was needed to analyze it. She’d pointed an accusing finger at him and before she could tell him he was a terrible father, he kissed her. That woke him up, and from then on it wasn’t a restful sleep, which made a man crabby, short-tempered and careless.

He was in the barn repairing tack when he heard the sound of female voices just outside. One was Cassie’s. The other was sexy and sweet, and he knew it belonged to Grace. Then his stomach clenched. Something was wrong or they wouldn’t be here.

He left the little room where tack was stored and hurried to meet them in the hay-scattered main aisle that separated the rows of horse stalls. “What’s going on?”

Grace frowned at his tone, but Cassie seemed unfazed. She ran up to him, her eyes bright with excitement.

“Hi, Daddy!” She was dressed in denim shorts and a pink T-shirt. Her hair was in some complicated weave. “Grace French-braided my hair. Isn’t it pretty?”

“Beautiful.” He looked at the woman standing beside the little girl and could have said the same thing. Her hair was pulled up in a sassy ponytail that brushed the shoulder of her skinny-strap shirt. Her shorts were black and revealed smooth, tanned skin that made his stomach clench again, for a very different reason. Beautiful.

“I was tellin’ Grace about the cats and goats, so we came to see ’em.” She ran past him and peeked into each of the empty stalls.

“Be careful,” he said.

“I will.”

He followed her and watched as she inspected every corner of the barn without success.

“Snowflake must be outside. I’m gonna go look,” she said, then raced toward the wide opening and disappeared.

“Cassie—” Either she didn’t hear or chose to ignore him. “I’m going after her.”

“I’ll go, but could you tag along? I’d like to speak with you about something.”

“Okay.” They walked to the open barn door and he saw his daughter looking around a bale of hay.

“She’s just exploring. This won’t take long, Logan. Promise.”

“She needs eyes on her.” The knot in his stomach tightened.

“Agreed. But this is a ranch, not a razor blade factory.” Grace’s mouth pulled tight for a moment and there was stubbornness in her expression, a clue that she wasn’t going to back off on this. “Please, talk to me. I have some questions and need clarification.”

He met her gaze and mentally braced himself. “Okay.”

“Good.” Her smile was polite, but something simmered beneath it. She looked at his daughter as she said, “For starters, I need to know what is and isn’t okay to do with Cassie.”

“That’s your job. To know how to take care of her. It’s why I hired you. For your judgment.”

“That’s what I thought, too.” Flecks of gold were scattered in her hazel eyes and started to glow, the only hint they might shoot fire any second.

“Good, then we’re finished here.”

“Not quite. The thing is, I used my good judgment this morning. Cassie wanted to show me the baby goats and see if the cat had her babies. My judgment told me that would be fun for her, but I’m sensing that you don’t agree, because you’re acting as if we cut the stirrups off your favorite saddle.”

Very perceptive. “She’s five and has a lot of toys. Isn’t that fun?”

“As you said—she’s five, and that means she has a short attention span. This is a ranch. They’re harmless animals.” Her gaze slid from his to where Cassie was crouched down looking at a rock and poking it with a stick she’d picked up. So much for all the toys.

Why did she have to be so damn logical? And so sexy while she was doing it? “Cats scratch. Goats get frisky.”

“Very true. And that’s why I’m here to watch.” Her gaze narrowed on his before looking at Cassie again. “But I’m sensing you disapprove of my decision. So I have to ask—what are approved activities?”

“Ones where she can’t fall off a fence or wander too close to a horse and get kicked and hurt.”

“So, indoor play only?”

“Exactly.” Good. That was actually easier than he’d expected. Then he saw the defiant look in her eyes and he figured the laser beams were charging. “What?”

“I’m curious.”

Curiosity killed the cat. If he didn’t miss his guess, this was a trap set for him to step in and snap the jaws shut. “About?”

“Cassie visits with you here on the ranch almost every weekend. So, how do you fill the time? What do you do for fun?”

He thought for a moment and saw no downside to telling her. “I take her to movies. Into Blackwater Lake for ice cream. There’s a mall about forty-five minutes to an hour away and she likes to shop.”

“So, all of the things you do together are indoors?”

“Not all.” But he was starting to sweat. “We sit outside and eat the ice cream when the weather is nice.”

Grace folded her arms over her chest. “How do you get any work done if you can’t let her out of your sight?”

“When she’s here I arrange my work schedule so that I’m free to be with her.”

Her eyes widened. “I’m going to take a wild guess and say that this is the longest stretch of time you’ve had your daughter living with you.”

Logan had helped her lay out all the dots, so it shouldn’t come as a shock that a smart woman like her would connect them. “It works.”

Grace blew out a long breath. “Why don’t you just roll her up in Bubble Wrap or put her in biocontainment?”

“You’re saying I’m overprotective.” It wasn’t a question. Cassie’s mom told him that on a regular basis.

“I’d call it cautious. But why to this extent? Even the way your visits are structured, she’s spent a lot of time here. She’s old enough to know the rules, where to play and what’s off-limits.”

“Kids don’t always follow directions and stay where they’re supposed to.”

“Can’t argue with that. So, she’s never out of your sight?”

“Never. And now you’re here to do that when I can’t.”

He dragged his fingers through his hair. “Look, when she’s with me it’s my responsibility to make sure that no harm comes to her. The only thing that matters is Cassie. Her happiness and well-being. I want her safe and will do whatever is necessary to see that she is. Isn’t that what a father does?”

Logan really wanted to know because his own father didn’t think about anyone but himself. It didn’t take an advanced degree in early childhood education to know that wasn’t right.

“Of course a father is supposed to do that.” Grace’s expression softened. It was as if she sensed he was no good at this and felt sorry for his daughter. Or worse, she pitied him. “And a mother, too. But—”

He held up a hand to stop her. “There’s a word that strikes fear into a person’s heart.”

“It’s just a three-letter word.” Her mouth twitched as if she wanted to laugh.

“Uh-huh.” Let her make fun. It was better than feeling sorry for him. “That word is a signal. It means you’re not going to like the rest of what’s coming.”

“This is worth what you paid for it.” She did smile then and moved farther away from the barn entrance to see the little girl who’d wandered out of view as she explored. “Come to think of it, you are paying me. But Cassie is your child and I will care for her however you want, to the very best of my ability. This is just food for thought. You obviously love her very much. Just keep in mind that rigidly controlling her environment will keep her physically safe but could squeeze the joy out of her soul.”

Just then the little girl in question came running around the corner of the barn straight toward them. “Grace!”

She crouched down as the child stopped in front of her, breathing hard from the exertion. She studied the eager expression. “What, sweetie?”

“I found Snowflake. She made a home in some hay and has babies. Come and see!”

“Okay.” Grace grinned and Cassie grabbed the hand she held out.

“Bye, Daddy!”

“Be careful. See you later, baby girl.”

There was no push back on the endearment because his daughter was mission driven as she dragged Grace away.

Logan should have breathed a sigh of relief that the pretty lady was gone. Instead he felt uneasy. Maybe with a touch of disappointment mixed in. Cassie hadn’t insisted on showing him the kittens and he felt a little left out. It made him wonder just whose soul was in jeopardy.

Damn it.

His life had been working just fine until Grace Flynn walked into it. End of summer was a long way off and couldn’t come too soon as far as he was concerned. And not just because Cassie would be safely back with her mother again.

It meant Mary Poppins would be gone and his world would go back to normal. She’d been here only a couple days, but she had a way about her, one that messed with his head. Women had told him off before, but not one of them was as hot and sexy as Grace when she did it.

That was new, and no one liked change. Especially him.

Chapter Three

“Grace has to come with us to Fourth of July, Daddy.” Cassie Hunt stood in the kitchen and looked up at her father with hope and determination on her cute-as-a-button face.

Grace was watching Logan’s reaction, and it was awfully hard to keep from laughing. He didn’t know how to respond. This was a holiday, and even a hardworking rancher like him was taking some time off. It was late afternoon, and Cassie had told her they were going into Blackwater Lake for the celebration. Grace had said she hoped they had a good time, and the little girl insisted she had to come along, then confronted her father.

“The truth is, Cassie, I’ve been so busy I forgot to ask Grace about it,” he said honestly. “I will fix that right now. Grace, would you like to go with us for the Fourth of July celebration?”

“Thanks for asking, but it’s all right.” Being included felt like crossing a line from professional to personal. And from what he’d said about being only a weekend dad, this was a good chance for the two of them to hang out by themselves. “I don’t want to intrude on your time together.”

“But you hafta come,” Cassie pleaded. “It’s fun. And there’s a parade.”

“What else is going on?” she asked.

“Hot dogs. Pizza. And cotton candy.” The little girl thought for a moment. “There’s rides and fireworks. I don’t like the real loud ones, though.”

“All of that sounds good except the cotton candy. If that’s a deal breaker...”

“You don’t have to eat it,” Logan said. “You should come with us. We’re celebrating America’s independence, and it’s downright un-American to sit here by yourself.” He settled his hands on lean hips. “If you were in Buckskin Pass what would you be doing?”

There she would go to the annual town celebration and try not to smack Lance the Loser, who had broken her heart and her bank account. In her current situation, being by herself meant not having to pretend she wasn’t infatuated with this cowboy. When she was around him, the attraction meter never failed to click into the danger zone.

“I would take part in the Buckskin Pass festivities,” she finally admitted, leaving out the part about Lance the Loser.

“Then you should come with us.” Was that guilt, reluctance or obligation in his tone?

“Daddy’s right.”

“Wow.” He looked at his daughter as if she was an alien being from another planet. “That hardly ever happens. Me? Correct about something? That parade today just might be in my honor.”

“You have to, Grace. I’ll be sad if you don’t.” Cassie thrust out her bottom lip in an unmistakable pout.

Grace sighed. “Who can resist that face? Not me, that’s for sure.”

“Yay!”

At least one out of three was pleased. Grace thought Logan looked as if his horses had just gone on strike. In spite of his inviting her along, his body language said he didn’t want to be around her any more than necessary.

Actually, she couldn’t blame him. It’s what she deserved after offering unsolicited parenting advice in her first couple of days on the job. Now she was barely into week number two. She’d made a personal vow not to offer an opinion unless he asked for it.

“How does my hair look, Daddy?”

“I like the ribbons. Red, white and blue. Very patriotic.”

“Grace did it.” She turned her head from side to side, showing off the ponytail and the long strands of ribbon decorating it. “I’m never getting my hair cut.”

“That’s a topic best discussed with your mom.” He looked at Grace. “You ready to go?”

She glanced at her denim capri pants and red T-shirt with stars and stripes. If only there was an anti-Logan spray like the one you could buy to repel mosquitoes. Not to say he was a pest, but it would come in handy. Alas, no such product existed. “I’ll just get my purse and light jackets for Cassie and me.”

A little while later Logan drove into a lot designated for holiday parking because Main Street Blackwater Lake was closed off to through traffic. The carnival rides were operating in the same open area, and Cassie’s eyes grew wider as she pointed out the ones she wanted to go on.

Logan made no comment but kept on walking. It was a short distance to the parade area, and they looked around to find the best viewing spot in the crowd gathered up and down the street. As it turned out, all the front-row spaces were taken and the audience was several people deep. Before they could decide where to go, she heard someone call out Logan’s name.

“Look!” Cassie pointed at the Grizzly Bear Diner. “There’s Uncle Tucker and Uncle Max and Aunt Jamie.”

“My siblings,” Logan explained.

“A big family.” Grace envied him. She had no one, except the friends she’d made in Buckskin Pass. Although she’d made the comment that it must have been fun growing up with them, his response had been “not really.” Why did she get the feeling that circumstances and not his brothers and sister had colored his view? “They look nice.”

“You might change your mind about that after you meet them. There’s no getting out of this now that we’ve been spotted.” His voice was teasing. In spite of the words, he looked pleased to see them. “Brace for impact.”

Cassie took both of their hands and tugged them through the crowd to where the three siblings stood together. “Hi!”

“Hello, peanut.” The pretty twentysomething woman bent to hug her niece. “Love your holiday hair.”

“I know. I love it, too. Grace did it.”

Questioning blue eyes, a lot like Logan’s, regarded her. “And you must be Grace, the hair goddess.”

“Be nice, Jamie. Don’t scare her off.” Logan put his hand at the small of her back. “This is Grace Flynn. She’s taking care of Cassie for the summer.”

“Tracy mentioned she was hiring someone to help while she plans for the wedding then goes on her honeymoon.” The woman’s look was friendly and welcoming.

“Grace,” Logan continued, “this is my sister, Jamie Hart, and my brothers, Tucker and Max Hart.”

All of them Harts? But Logan’s last name was Hunt. Maybe they were half siblings, she thought, although some instinct told her that wasn’t the case. The family resemblance, especially among the men, was pretty strong. All three were better-than-average-looking and would have women sacrificing to the matchmaking gods.

“It’s nice to meet you all.” She shook hands with each of them. His brother Max was tall and broad, like a walking mountain, and his big hand swallowed hers. “You look familiar,” she said.

“If you recognize him it’s probably from tabloid stories linking him to all his groupies. He played in the National Hockey League,” Logan explained.

Grace decided to ignore the not very veiled reference to women. “Played? Past tense?”

“Ankle injury. It affected my skating skills.” Max shrugged, and his dark blue eyes didn’t reveal how he felt about a career-ending injury.

“Now he has too much time on his hands and uses it to harass me.” Tucker was tall, muscular and somewhere in his thirties. He was pretty cute, too. “I have better things to do than prop up his ego.”

“Building houseboats is no big deal,” Max shot back.

“What are you guys? Five? Our niece is more mature than you,” their sister teased.

Grace had always wished for a big brother, and this woman had three to protect her. She envied that. “What do you do, Jamie?”

“She’s a nurse practitioner and works at Mercy Medical Clinic here in town.” Logan’s voice and expression were full of pride and affection. “Our little sister saves lives.”

“She gives shots.” Cassie wrinkled her freckled nose.

“I’ve never given one to you,” her aunt said. “And if I did, it would be because an injection was medically necessary.”

“Does that mean only if I really and truly needed it?”

“Yes.” Jamie hugged her tight. “You’re so smart, my pretty little peanut.”

“Breaking news. The parade is starting.” Because he was the tallest, Max could see over the heads of all the people in front of them.

“I can’t see anything,” Cassie complained.

“That can be fixed.” Her very big uncle scooped her up and settled her on his wide shoulders. “How’s that?”

“I can see better than anyone!” The little girl squealed with delight.

Grace was shifting to get a better view of the street, and her arm brushed Logan’s. The tingles commenced as if the starting buzzer had just sounded at a track meet. Just when she managed to get a handle on the feeling, he put his hands on her arms and urged her to stand in front of him.

“You can see better here,” he said.

His touch was gentle, but his fingers on her bare skin felt hot enough to leave a mark. It was only the space of a heartbeat before he dropped his hands, but she missed the contact. That was weird, along with the fact that his brothers were extraordinarily good-looking men, but neither of them made her toes curl like Logan did.

Then the Blackwater Lake High School band marched by playing “America the Beautiful,” distracting her from the unsettling reaction. For about fifteen minutes she watched horses, antique cars and even a covered wagon go by. At the end of the line was the town fire department’s big red hook and ladder. A very handsome, dark-haired firefighter stood on the running board, waving an American flag.

“He’s cute,” Grace commented.

“Never judge a book by its cover,” Jamie muttered.

The tone and words convinced Grace that Logan’s sister had a Lance the Loser story, too.

“You should give him a break, Jamie. Des Parker isn’t a bad guy.” Tucker gently nudged his sister’s shoulder.

She gave him a look that would melt steel. “Do you really want to give me advice on the opposite sex, Tucker? You spent years living with a woman and couldn’t cross the finish line.” Jamie leaned toward Grace and whispered loud enough to be heard in the next county, “No one knows why that long-term relationship ended, but it makes his qualifications for offering romantic advice questionable.”

Logan gave his brother a sympathetic look. “I hate to say it, Tuck, but she’s got a point.”

“Really?” The brother in question shook his head. “You’re taking her side?”

“Look at it this way,” the cowboy said. “I will never need a houseboat, what with living on the ranch and all. But at some point, medical care is a real possibility. This is a strategic decision about which one of you I can least afford to tick off.”

Grace cracked up. “You guys are too funny.”

“Logan,” his sister told him, “I always knew you were wise beyond your years, and you get points for that. But the truth is that men are pigs. Am I right, Grace?”

Now she was on the spot. It was three against three if you counted Cassie, but she was too young to know anything about being hurt by a man. “I’m not comfortable labeling all of them that way. Especially when three of them are standing right here and one is my boss. But—” she glanced at Logan, remembering how he felt about that particular word “—I’m pretty sure a majority of women have a pig in their past.”

Jamie nodded knowingly. “You and I need to talk sometime.”

“About what?” Cassie demanded.

“Grown-up stuff.” Grace felt guilty that her comment had slipped out and wished she could rewind and delete. She glanced at Logan, his brown Stetson shading his eyes, and caught something dark and intense in his expression. At least she thought so. It disappeared as soon as their gazes touched.

“Not to change this fascinating subject,” Max interjected, “but Bar None has a beer booth set up across the street. I think we should go get one.”

“I don’t like beer,” Cassie said.

“Do I want to know how and why you know that?” Tucker asked his niece.

“I just know,” his niece declared. “Because I want to go and play the beanbag game.”

Grace could tell Logan was conflicted about what to do and figured she could help him out. “You go with your family. I’ll take Cassie to see the games.”

“You’re not on duty. It’s a holiday,” he protested.

“I like hanging out with her. It’s not work.” She saw his hesitation and said, “Look, we can debate the issue and waste time until everyone is bored to tears—”

“I’m already bored,” Cassie chimed in. She pointed at someone nearby. “There’s my friend Lindsay. I wanna go play.”

“I rest my case. So you can give in—dare I say it—gracefully and everyone gets what they want,” she said.

“Not only is Grace pretty,” Max said, “she’s right. It would be best to go with her on this, big brother.”

Logan glared at everyone in general, but before he could respond, Cassie piped up.

“Daddy, please can I go with Grace?”

He thought for a moment, then finally nodded. “Okay, kiddo. But you stay with her.”

As if the little girl weighed nothing, Max lifted her from his shoulders and set her on her feet. “There you go, munchkin.”

“Thanks, Uncle Max. I’m goin’ over there to see my friend Lindsay.” She ran over and the two girls hugged.

“I guess that’s settled.” Logan slid his fingers into his jeans pockets.

“It was nice to meet you all,” Grace said.

“Likewise.” Max gave her a charming grin. “My brother doesn’t deserve you. But it’s good to know my niece is in expert hands.”

“One beer,” Logan told her. “I’ll call your cell to see where the two of you are when I’m finished.”

“Okay.”

She watched the four of them start across the street, then turned away when there was a tug on her hand. “What is it?”

“Grace, can I go on the roller coaster with Lindsay? Her mom and dad are comin’ with us. Please?”

“Okay, I’ll just tag along—”

“Hold on.” Logan came up behind her. “I thought you were taking her to play the games.”

Grace’s eyes were on Cassie, who drifted back to her friend’s family, out of hearing distance. Then she glanced up at her tense and decidedly displeased employer. “She changed her mind. It happens when you’re a five-year-old girl. She wants to go on a ride with her friend and parents.”

“We didn’t talk about this,” he said.

“You hired me to use my own judgment,” she reminded him. “But if you don’t trust me—”

“It’s not that.” He rubbed a hand across the back of his neck. “I just feel as if I should be there.”

Be there? Really? She’d vowed not to offer advice, but technically she wasn’t. “If being there is so important, why didn’t you take ten minutes to sit and have a pretend tea party with her?”

“I’m not good at that.” Uncertainty mixed with the tension on his face. “And don’t ask me to explain how or why, but this is different.”

Grace searched his gaze for several moments, not exactly sure what she was looking for but convinced she wasn’t finding any answers there. “Do you want me to tell her she can’t go on the ride?”

He shook his head. “I’ll take her.”

“But your family is waiting for you,” she protested.

“They’ll live.” He looked down for a moment, then back at her. “And so we’re clear, I do trust you. This is on me, not you.”

Without another word, Logan walked over to where Cassie was with her friend’s family. He shook hands and smiled at Lindsay’s parents in a casual, friendly way before the group threaded through the crowd in the direction of the open area where the carnival rides were set up.

Grace saw the protective hand he put on his daughter’s small shoulder, and the sight tugged at her heart. He was the personification of the strong, silent, solid cowboy—polite and protective. She believed him when he said he trusted her but would bet almost anything that he didn’t trust himself.

Why was that?

* * *

Unlike his daughter, who’d conked out in the truck on the way home after fireworks, Logan couldn’t sleep when they got back to the ranch. He was tossing and turning in bed and couldn’t get Grace off his mind. For a lot of reasons, not the least of which was the feel of her bare skin beneath his hands. But mostly it was how she’d looked at him when he got squirrelly about Cassie going on a carnival ride without him there to watch her. You’d think he set Grace’s hot-pink panties on fire.

Well, maybe that wasn’t the best way to think of it since he was the one with hot pants and doing his damnedest not to let on. No, that look of hers was about judging him, and in the fatherhood department, he came up short. Trying to hide the fact that he had no idea what he was doing wasn’t working. She was too good with kids not to see the truth. Before she came here, things with him and Cassie were fine. Weekends were sacred, and the hired help took over. He hung out with his daughter, and when she was with him, he knew she was safe. He didn’t have to delegate that responsibility.

Now he had to trust Grace with what was most precious to him in this world. But trust didn’t come easy. The fact was, he’d never hated Foster Hart more than he did at this moment. Thanks to that bastard, he had no blueprint of what a good father looked like.

Logan heard something, and his eyes popped open, adrenaline pumping. The sound came again, and he realized it was Cassie crying out. He threw off the covers and jumped out of bed, his only thought to get to her.

He ran down the hall and saw that her bedroom door was open, and faint light from her lamp spilled out. Inside, Grace sat on the bed cradling the little girl in her arms. Since her room was next to Cassie’s, she got there first and was crooning comforting words.

“It was a bad dream, honey. You’re fine. I’m here. There’s nothing to be afraid of, I promise.” She met his gaze, and there was a question in her eyes.

Logan knew she was wondering if he wanted to take over, and he shook his head. Cassie was clinging to Grace, and he figured she was probably better off right where she was.

“It’s okay, sweetheart.” The sobs were tapering off as Grace rocked her and rubbed her back. “Do you want to talk about it?”

“I’ll be scared.” Cassie clutched even tighter.

“Sometimes if we share something that scares us it loses the power to be frightening.”

“Somethin’ was after me.” Cassie sniffled. “I ran and ran as fast as I could, but it grabbed my shirt and I couldn’t get away. I kept saying, ‘Help,’ but nobody came.”

“Oh, honey.” Grace brushed a hand over Cassie’s hair. “I’m so sorry you were scared. It was just a dream, though, and can’t hurt you. I’m here. Your dad is here.”

Cassie lifted her head and looked at him. “I didn’t see you, Daddy. Sorry I waked you up.”

“It’s okay, baby girl. Are you okay?”

“Better now.” She yawned. “Do I hafta go back to sleep? I don’t want to.”

“Not until you’re ready,” Grace assured her. “I’ll be here with you, okay?”

“I know.” The little girl nodded and relaxed against Grace again.

Logan had heard that kids had an instinct about people and didn’t suffer fools. If that was true, Cassie completely trusted this woman, and he was relieved about that. In a perfect world, no one would ever let this little girl down. The irony was that a kid’s father should be the first line of defense, but Logan worried that he was the one most likely to disappoint her.

When Cassie yawned again, Grace asked, “Do you want to go back to bed?”

Cassie nodded and crawled out of her lap beneath the covers, then grabbed the stuffed bear Logan had bought her on one of their mall trips. Grace reached over and turned out the light but not before he caught a glimpse of her in the flimsy flowered pajamas she wore to bed. His body went tight and hard, proving how much he wanted her. If he needed any, it was more proof of how much he was like his father. He was lusting after the childcare professional while his little girl was in the middle of a meltdown.

Cassie whimpered. “I’m scared.”

“I’m here.” Grace stretched out on the bed and pulled the child against her. “Tell me what you’re afraid of.”

“There’s a monster on my ceiling.”

Grace looked up. “The shadows?”

“Uh-huh.”

Between the moon’s rays streaming through the princess curtains and the night-light plugged into an outlet, a whole bunch of shadows were hovering above the bed. The only way to make them disappear was to leave the light on, and Logan was just about to suggest that. Then Grace started talking in her soft, sweet, soothing tone. He wished he could see her because when she used this voice there was always something innocent in her eyes that he liked.

“I don’t see a monster on the ceiling. It looks like an elephant to me, a cute and cuddly one.” She pointed. “There’s his trunk and big, floppy ears. Can you make it out?”

“Yes,” Cassie said.

“Or maybe a fairy—like Tinker Bell. There are the little wings and her arms stretched out for flying.”

“I can see her.”

Grace pointed again. “I think that could be an ice-cream cone. See the pointy part and the mound on top?”

“Uh-huh.” Cassie’s yawn was long, and her mouth stretched wide open. “In the corner I see a ladybug. There’s the round body and tiny wings when she flies away.”

“Good one.”

Between his daughter’s yawn and her getting involved in finding friendly shapes in the ceiling shadows, Logan knew the crisis was winding down. Grace had managed the situation without resorting to keeping the light on. He backed out of the doorway but stayed in the hall, listening to the low voices that soon became just one—Grace’s.

Eventually she tiptoed out and looked startled when she saw him, the same expression she’d worn when he scared her into dropping her panties while unpacking.

“I thought you went back to bed,” she whispered.

“No.”

“You could have.” Based on the hushed voice, it was hard to tell whether or not her tone was defensive.

“I stayed—just in case.”

“Everything is under control. And I assume you have to get up before God to work in the morning.”

“Yeah.”

“Then I have to conclude that you don’t trust me.”

“Not you, Grace. It’s me I don’t trust.”

“I kind of figured that. In town. Cassie and the carnival ride clued me in.”

“Yeah.”

“You act like a bodyguard, and I mean that literally. In order to be sure she’s physically all right, you can’t let her out of your sight. But you don’t want to get down and play with her. Why are you putting that distance between you? Do you want to talk about it?”

Just minutes ago she’d told Cassie that sharing something you’re scared of can make it lose the power to be frightening. Maybe she was right. For reasons he didn’t understand, Logan was going to tell her.

“Yeah,” he said. “I do want to talk about it.”

Chapter Four

Logan wanted to talk about this so Grace would stop looking at him as if he was winning the Worst Dad of the Century award in a landslide. If she understood how screwed up his childhood had been, she would get that he was doing this for Cassie.

“Grace, I—”

She put a finger to her lips to stop him and angled her head toward the open door to his daughter’s room. In a whisper she said, “Let’s go downstairs. I’m going to grab a robe.”

He felt a stab of disappointment at the prospect of her doing anything to cover up that sweet shape. Yet another shred of proof about his being messed up in general and not just his dad skills.

Then her gaze dropped to his bare chest for a moment and something flashed in her eyes. He might not know how to be a dad, but he knew female appreciation when he saw it. Too bad that made his ego feel better because other parts of him felt pretty damn lousy.

“I’ll put on a shirt,” he said.

Logan did that, then went downstairs. He’d barely flipped on the lights when he felt Grace behind him. She was tying the belt of her short satiny robe, and darned if that wasn’t sexy as hell.

“Do you want a drink?” he asked.

“Water.”

“I was thinking something stronger.” Even though he knew there wasn’t enough Scotch in the world to take the edge off the crap of how his childhood played out.

“You go ahead,” she said.

He shook his head. “Water it is.”

After getting two glasses and filling them with filtered water from the fridge, they sat down at the kitchen table facing each other.

Grace took a sip, then wrapped her hands around the glass. “So, talk. I’m listening.”

No point in sugarcoating this. “My father is a bastard.”

She blinked, but otherwise her expression didn’t change. “I’m going to take a wild guess. You mean that as an indictment of his character and not about his being born out of wedlock.”

“You would be correct. My paternal grandparents are good people. Salt of the earth. Their other son, Hastings—”

“Your uncle.”

“Yes.” He had cousins, too, here in Blackwater Lake. They’d reached out, but Logan wasn’t wired to jump in with both feet, because they were family. “Anyway, Hastings is the kind of son every parent would be proud of. A loving husband and father. Never gave his folks a bit of trouble. And then there was Foster.”

“Your dad.”

Dad? Logan never thought of him that way. The term was intimate and implied a level of commitment and caring to earn the name.

“My father is the complete opposite of his brother. Uninvolved with his family and unfaithful to his wife. Beats me why he proposed to my mother at all since he didn’t stop seeing other women even after they were engaged.”

“Well, that really stinks.”

The anger on her face was better than pity. “He had affairs and mistresses and kids with more than one of them.”

“You have half siblings?”

“They’re around.”

“That boggles the mind. I don’t understand—”

“Join the club.”

“No,” she said. “I meant why didn’t your parents just get a divorce?”

“The better question is why he ever got married in the first place.” He thought for a moment. “I don’t have confirmation, but I have a guess about that.”

“Shoot.”

“He was looking for the same kind of approval from his parents that Hastings already had. Foster got tired of hearing about his older brother’s beautiful wife and family and wanted his share of the parental approval pie.”

“So he proposed to your mom. I guess she had no idea he was a cheater.”

“Not then. And she got pregnant with me right away. When she found out he was sleeping around, it was a lot harder to walk away with a baby. And he didn’t want the sordid truth to trash his new image with the folks.” The disgust that tightened inside him was like an old friend. “To keep her from leaving he pulled out every cliché. No points for originality. He told her he loved her and was sorry. It would never happen again. So she stayed, and there was no need for anyone else to know.”

“Your mother believed him.” It wasn’t a question, and the hostile expression in her eyes was a clue that she’d had her own experience with a rat-bastard liar. “Your dad must be a smooth talker.”

“Yes. And the truth is that she didn’t want to leave. Not really. She actually loved him.”

“Hard to believe.” Grace’s lips pressed together.

“Yeah. But that wasn’t enough for him. The cheating didn’t stop. Neither did the clichés. His smooth talking worked after Tucker, Max and Jamie.”

“But she finally did leave. What made her pull the trigger on that?”

“He got one of his mistresses pregnant. Probably more, but this woman called my mother and told her to let him go. He didn’t love her and she should set him free so he could be happy with her and their baby.”

“Oh, my God. What nerve. Your mother must have been enraged.”

Logan remembered how his mom looked after that phone conversation. All the color had drained from her face, and she was completely shocked. There was fear and hurt in her eyes but no fury.

He shook his head. “No anger. She loved him until the day she died.”

“Logan—” She gripped her water glass tighter. “I don’t know what to say.”

“It gets worse.” He met her gaze but still saw no evidence that she was feeling sorry for him. “She was too humiliated to stay but didn’t have anywhere to go. And she wouldn’t ask the Harts for help.”

“But this ranch—”

“It belonged to her father, and he had disowned her for marrying Foster. Granddad pegged him for a loser, but she refused to listen. When she had to leave, she wouldn’t swallow her pride and go to her father.”

“What happened? Where did you go?”

“We lived in the car.”

“Four of you kids and your mother?”

He nodded. “She waited tables and cleaned houses but couldn’t make enough to put a permanent roof over our heads. Sometimes we went to a homeless shelter. There was an occasional cheap motel room if tips were good.”

“What about you kids?”

He knew what she was asking. “I took care of them.”

Her eyes widened. “How old were you?”

“Twelve.”

“Just a kid yourself,” she said.

“Yeah.” As much as he wanted to, there was no forgetting the humiliation and fear. He’d done his best to be the man of the family.

“Obviously your mom eventually contacted her father.”

He nodded. “Jamie got really sick, and there was no choice. Granddad was really glad to hear from her. He’d missed her and had no idea we were living in a car. He took us in, and we stayed here on the ranch.”

“It’s a great place to grow up.” She was studying him. “But an experience like that leaves a mark.”

“Look, I didn’t tell you all that to get the sympathy vote.”

“I never thought you did. And I don’t pity you.”

He looked but didn’t see any in her eyes, which was a relief. But he saw a lot of questions. “What?”

“You had a reason for talking about this to me, Logan.”

“I want you to understand. I’m in over my head with Cassie. Being a father scared the hell out of me from the moment Tracy told me she was pregnant. I love my daughter more than anything, and I’m afraid of screwing her up somehow because I have no clue what a good father looks like.”