“Do you believe this sky?”
Nadine pointed at the stars
above her and Lamont.

“I hope it’s this clear tomorrow tonight,” he said.

She looked at him, and sent his heart into overdrive. “Why?”

“Might be inclined to throw a couple of steaks on the grill…if you’ll share ’em with me.”

Nadine turned to face him. “Lamont London,” she said, her blue eyes boring into his, “are you asking me out on a date?”

Suddenly, Lamont stared at the floorboards beneath his boots, trying to make sense of everything that was going on in his head and his heart.

“I like you, Nadine.”

She reached over and gently squeezed his forearm. “And I like you, too. You’ve always been a good neighbor, and I count myself lucky to call you ‘friend,’ too.”

Friend? The term made him feel like a schoolboy, because he wanted this to be so much more. He’d broken bones and tamed wild stallions. But something told him trying to woo Nadine might be his greatest challenge yet….

LOREE LOUGH

A full-time writer for many years, Loree Lough has produced more than two thousand articles, dozens of short stories and novels for the young (and young at heart), and all have been published here and abroad. She is also an award-winning author of more than thirty-five romances.

A comedic teacher and conference speaker, Loree loves sharing in classroom settings what she’s learned the hard way. The mother of two grown daughters, she lives in Maryland with her husband.

An Accidental Family
Loree Lough

www.millsandboon.co.uk

And then I will welcome you, and I will be a father

to you, and you will be My sons and daughters,

says the Lord Almighty.

—2 Corinthians 6:18

Every time I watch the Oscars,

I empathize with the actors who try—

in a very short time span—to thank everyone

who made their careers and awards possible…

without leaving anyone out! I pray you’ll

bear with me as I make the same attempt to

show my gratitude for the individuals

who helped Accidental Family come to pass:

My faithful readers (many of whom became

cherished friends over the years), my amazing

editor, Melissa (who knows a good story when

she reads one), the creative guys and gals at

Love Inspired (whose talents made this beautiful

cover possible), my real-life hero-husband

(whose support grows stronger and steadier

by the year), my loving daughters (for believing

in me even when I didn’t), and their kids

(who provide thousands of “braggy grandmom”

moments), and Katharine Grubb

(“The 10-Minute Writer,” who shared a few words

that sparked an idea and solved a problem for

the heroine). Last, but certainly not least, to our

heavenly Father, who blessed me with a career

that allows me to enjoy every working moment

and allows me to share His word!

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

Epilogue

Letter to Reader

Questions for Discussion

Chapter One

Lamont had never felt more alone in his life.

Strange, since the church bulged with longtime friends, family and neighbors, here by invitation to witness his youngest daughter’s wedding.

They stood at the back of the church, just the two of them, waiting arm in arm for their cue to march toward the altar. Lily smiled up at him through the gauzy mist of her veil. “I love Max like crazy, Daddy,” she said, tears shimmering in her big green eyes, “but you’ll always be my best guy.”

He wanted to tell her how beautiful she looked, that he was proud of the woman she’d become, that her mama would have been proud of her, too, but a sob caught in his throat. He patted her tiny, white-gloved hand and ground his molars together as those first strains of “The Wedding March” came through the closed chapel doors.

The roses and lilies of the valley in her bouquet began to quake, and he tried again to come up with something, anything that might calm and comfort her. But now the choking sob had made its way to his brain, making him feel just plain stupid as he continued patting her hand.

Then the doors opened, and a couple hundred parishioners turned simultaneously in their pews, smiling and craning their necks to get that first glimpse of the bride and her dad. Evidently, his hearing was pretty good for a guy in his fifties, because despite the window-rattling crescendo of the music, he could make out “Isn’t she pretty?” and “He’s so handsome in a tux,” rushing down the aisle like an ocean wave.

Next thing he knew, Lamont found himself at the altar, lifting her veil, kissing her forehead…and handing her over to the young man who’d take care of his Lily from this day forth.

“Who gives this woman?” the preacher asked.

They’d practiced this, just last night, but Lamont didn’t want to spout the two simple, one-syllable words they had assigned him. “She’s not a woman,” he wanted to shout instead, “She’s my baby girl!”

But after his mechanical “I do,” he walked woodenly to his seat, and sat tugging at the stiff collar of the tuxedo’s white shirt, trying to pay attention as Lily recited her vows and exchanged rings with Max, trying not to blubber like a toddler when the bride and groom shared their first kiss as man and wife.

When they faced the congregation, Lily looked at him and sent a silent reminder: “You’ll always be my best guy, Daddy…”

It put a lump in his throat and tears in his eyes, and Lamont tried to hide it by lifting his chin. But Lily saw and knowing what it meant, blew him a little kiss, the way she had since she was a toddler. And, as always, he pretended to catch it and tuck it into his pocket.

“Ladies and gentlemen,” the pastor droned, “I give you Mr. and Mrs. Maxwell Sheridan.”

All in attendance stood and applauded, including Lamont—though his heart wasn’t in it. Because this was it. The end. Tonight, he’d go home to that big house, empty save the constant companionship of his ever-faithful mutt, Obnoxious.

An usher led Lily’s mother-in-law to the back of the church. Georgia looked gorgeous, more content than he’d ever seen her. And why wouldn’t she be, when Max had come home to Amarillo—this time to stay—and brought with him his formerly motherless little boy, Nate, and given her a daughter named Lily to love. Lamont supposed Georgia’s new husband deserved some of the credit, and it made him wonder—if his new son-in-law’s rough-around-the-edges mom could find a second chance at love, was there hope for him, too?

He took his place in the receiving line as the pastor’s wife locked him in a grandmotherly hug. “Beautiful ceremony.”

Behind her, his housekeeper, Peggy, said, “Beautiful bride!”

“Thanks,” he told them. “Good to see you.”

But not nearly as good as it was to see the pretty widow who owned the ranch next to his.

“Hey, good-lookin’,” Nadine said. “I declare, you’re more gorgeous than the groom.” She looked down the receiving line where Max stood smiling at Lily. “And that’s saying something!”

“You clean up pretty good, yourself.” An under-statement, he thought, admiring the knee-length azure sheath that accented her womanly curves and brought out the pale, glittering blue of her long-lashed eyes.

“This old thing?” Clucking her tongue, she fluffed the ends of her shoulder-length blond hair. “Why, I’ve had it for—” laughing, she stood on tiptoe to adjust the knot of his bow tie “—for exactly one day. Big sale down at Gizmo’s,” she added conspiratorially.

Nadine was nothing if not honest. Just one more reason to like her. Plus, she was one of the few people in his life who, by her very presence, could lift his spirits.

When she finished with the tie, she straightened the shiny black button-toppers that had come with his tuxedo, then tidied the pocket square in his breast pocket. It made him feel cared for and pampered, the way he had when Rose was still—

“See you at the reception hall,” Nadine said. “Save a square dance for me, y’hear?” And with a flirty little wave, she disappeared into the crowd to wait her turn, blowing bubbles at the departing bride and groom.

His arms felt empty when she stepped away. Empty, and despite the dry Texas heat, a little bit cold.

Lily and Max, still in full wedding garb, joined the line of celebrants who made wings of their arms and beaks of their hands as the band played “The Chicken Polka.”

“I need a break,” Nadine said, plopping onto the chair beside Lamont. And waving a dinner napkin near her face, she laughed. “I’m so hungry I could eat a horse and I’m sweating like a pig.” She stopped waving to add, “And don’t you look like the cat that swallowed the canary. What’s up your sleeve?”

“Not much, O Mistress of Clichés,” he teased.

She gazed toward the dance floor. “They make a good-looking couple.”

Lamont shrugged. “They’d look a whole better if they were somebody else’s kids, two-stepping at somebody else’s wedding.”

She responded with a playful shove to his shoulder. “Take heart, Dad. I know what you’re going through, ’cause I’ve been there, too. ‘No one is good enough for my kid,’” she said, drawing quotation marks in the air.

She had it all wrong. Lamont liked his newest son-in-law just as much as he liked Reid, his oldest daughter’s husband. “He’s okay. I guess.” His twins, Ivy and Violet, were living on their own, but Lamont felt fairly certain that when they chose life mates, he’d feel the same way about those young men, too.

“Yeah, ‘okay,’ but still not quite who you’d have chosen for her, right?”

She’d cocked her head to say it, and looked at him from the corner of her eye. He hadn’t slept much last night, or the night before, for that matter. Maybe exhaustion explained why it seemed that Nadine was flirting with him.

The dance floor emptied as laughing, red-faced dancers returned to their seats. As the band eased into a waltz, Lamont frowned. He’d never much cottoned to ballads, especially if the lyrics spoke of lonely, broken hearts. Then Nadine started singing, and suddenly, he didn’t mind as much. She had a soft, sultry voice that simultaneously soothed him and quickened his heartbeat. He wanted to hear more, up close and personal. So he bowed slightly and held out one hand. “May I have this dance?”

She followed his every step as though they’d been dancing together for years, when, in truth, he didn’t think they’d shaken hands or shared a hello hug, let alone—

“Do you realize this is a first?”

He grinned. “Great minds think alike?”

“Beats the alternative…”

“Which is?”

“To quote my grandpa, ‘Fools seldom differ.’”

And when she laughed, the invigorating sound showered over him like warm spring rain.

“So how’s it feel…?”

He almost admitted that holding her this close felt so good that he wanted to kick himself for not asking her to dance before. Thankfully, he didn’t get the chance, because she said, “…knowing you’re finally on your own.”

Lamont harrumphed. He’d just as soon forget that he’d gone a little nutty after Rose’s death, escorting pretty young things around town two or three nights a week. A few years of that wore his patience thin, and since not a one of them came close to filling Rose’s shoes, anyway, he hung up his eligible bachelor hat for good. “Please. Don’t remind me.”

Nadine patted his shoulder. “Now, now. Look on the bright side.”

What bright side? He’d didn’t like the dating scene and he didn’t like the prospect of living alone. Especially not if it meant rattling around that big house, all—

“Think about it…total control of the TV remote, football 24/7, network news during supper…” She laughed again. “You’ll probably turn into a couch potato or a hermit or something, and we’ll probably never see you again!”

Oh, you’ll see me, he thought. You can count on it. Resting her head on his shoulder, Nadine sighed. “I’m only teasing. I remember how absolutely awful it was, going home alone that night when Adam married Julie. It took me weeks and weeks to get used to how quiet and empty the house felt.”

“Hey, now there’s a way to lift a guy’s spirits,” he said, chuckling.

One hand over her mouth, she cringed. “Oh, wow. Sorry. Guess I got my empathy and sympathy pills mixed up this morning.”

The song ended and, for the second time that day, he regretted having to let her go. His gaze followed her to the table where her son, granddaughter and daughter-in-law sat, and tried to figure out what to make of the feelings she’d stirred inside him.

Fingers, snapping near his ear, brought him back to attention.

“Earth to Dad, Earth to Dad…”

“Hey, Reid.”

“Man,” his eldest son-in-law said, “were you off in Never-Neverland!” He grinned. “Or should I say ‘Nadine-Nadineland?’”

Lamont laughed good-naturedly. “Is it my fault if I have a good eye?”

“You can fool some of the people some of the time, but I’m not fallin’ for that line of malarkey.” Reid leaned closer. “Don’t worry—your secret’s safe with me.”

Frowning, Lamont stiffened and glanced at the gaudy gold clock above the door. Two hours before the reception ended. Officially. Then there’d be gifts to pack into the car, and bills of lading to sign, checks to write and—

“Lily looks great today.”

Reid was right about that. “I hate to sound like a braggart, but all four of my girls are knockouts.” He found each one in the crowd. “Their mama would’ve been proud.”

“Rose would have every right to be proud. Of them, and of you, too, because you did a bang-up job, raising them all by yourself.” He shook his head. “Don’t think I could’ve handled it.”

Lamont met his eyes. “Sure you would have. What choice would you have?”

Cammi walked up to them, linked arms with both men. “So, what are my two best guys gossiping about?”

“I was just telling your dad what a great job he did, bringing up you girls.”

She stood on tiptoe to kiss Lamont’s cheek. “He’s the best dad in Texas.”

“In all of the Southwest,” Ivy added.

“In the whole country!” Violet said.

“You’re forgetting the universe,” the bride put in.

“Knock it off,” Lamont said, grinning. “You want somebody to snap a picture of me blushing like a schoolgirl?”

“Oh, I doubt anyone would confuse you with a schoolgirl.”

Weird, Lamont thought as Nadine stepped up beside him, how natural and normal it felt, sharing this warm family moment with her.

When she smiled up at him, big eyes glittering like blue diamonds under the enormous crystal chandelier, Lamont had to control the urge to kiss her, right there in front of his girls. “So,” he said to Lily, “what’s next on the schedule? Cake cutting? Tossing of the bouquet?”

“Father-Daughter dance.” Lily waved at the bandleader, who signaled the other musicians to end their song. The dance floor cleared, and in the ensuing hush, guests gathered at the edge of the parquet tiles. “Ladies and gentlemen,” the emcee said into his microphone, “gather ’round as our host takes his best girl for a whirl around the floor.”

Leave it to Lily to choose a song guaranteed to pluck his fatherly heartstrings. In the hope that banal conversation would distract him from the meaningful lyrics, Lamont told her again how pretty she looked. Talked about the wedding-perfect weather. Asked if she’d packed for the honeymoon, and if she’d remembered plenty of sunscreen and antiseasickness pills. “Careful not to stray too far from the beaten path,” he warned, “because the news is full of stories about what happens when tourists end up on island backstreets.” It seemed to be working, because he almost didn’t see the huge circle of friends and relatives, standing all around the dance floor.

Almost…

As they two-stepped from one side of the room to the other, Lamont and Lily passed Nadine. Was he seeing things, or were those tears in her eyes? He would have turned to get a second look, if Lily hadn’t chosen that moment to plant a loving kiss on his chin.

“Thanks, Daddy,” she said, “for everything. You’ve made this the most special day of my life.”

“Love you, Lilypad.” The use of his pet name for her put a hitch in his voice, and he hoped she hadn’t heard it.

“Love you, too.”

The song ended, and the guests applauded, and his little girl ran off—to do whatever came next on her list of bridal obligations.

“Hey, sailor,” Nadine said, taking his arm, “goin’ my way?”

He shot her a grateful half grin and led her into the lobby. “Did I see you crying back there?” he asked when the doors closed behind them.

“Maybe,” she said, blushing. “I guess. But only a little.” And rolling her eyes, she playfully smacked his shoulder. “So what if I was?”

“Softie.”

“Yeah, well, I saw a tear shining in your eye, too…”

“Yeah, well,” he echoed, “I’m footin’ the bill for this fancy shindig. I have every right to bawl like a baby!”

Had her laughter always been so melodious? And why hadn’t he noticed before that hearing it turned his ears hot and his palms damp?

She didn’t look a day over thirty, though he knew for a fact that she’d turned fifty on her last birthday. Hard to believe this woman’s a grandma! he thought, smirking.

“There you go again,” she said, one well-arched brow high on her forehead, “looking like a cat with a mouthful of bird.”

“A cat with a…a what?”

“Well, unless I wanted you to call me the Mistress of Clichés again, I figured I’d better come up with something original.”

“Oh, trust me, you’re original, all right.”

Lashes fluttering, she blushed again. Yes, by golly, Nadine was flirting with him!

The banquet room doors opened a crack, and Cammi stuck her head out. “Dad, Lily is looking for you.”

“Be right there.” And once his eldest daughter was out of sight, he said from the corner of his mouth, “Guess it’s time to write the check.”

Nadine laughed again. “Nut,” she said, kissing his right cheek.

He didn’t remember much after that…

…except wishing she’d aimed a little left….

Nadine sat in the big wooden rocker, boot heels propped on the white picket rail surrounding the front porch. A little blustery to be outside so late on a February evening, but she didn’t mind. She had fuzzy slippers, her favorite afghan and a cup of tea to keep her warm.

Behind her in the foyer, the dulcet tones of the grandfather clock sounded the ten o’clock hour. She ought to turn in, because tomorrow she was supposed to sing that new hymn she’d been practicing all week. But she wasn’t the least bit sleepy.

Just five more minutes, she mused, closing her eyes to the starry, inky sky.

Smiling into the breeze, she admitted that this had been the best Valentine’s Day in memory. Lily and Max made a lovely couple, their wedding one of the best she’d ever attended.

The startling jangle of the phone interrupted her peaceful reverie, making her slop tea over the mug’s rim. “Rats!” she complained, standing. Well, at least it hadn’t spilled onto her favorite blanket.

“Hey, Mom.”

“Adam? Is everything all right with Julie and Amy?”

“We’re all fine. Sorry to call so late, but I have a huge favor to ask you.”

She slumped onto a counter stool and wrapped the telephone cord around her forefinger.

“For starters, I’ve been laid off. And thanks to Julie’s math errors, our last eight rent checks have bounced.”

Hopefully, he hadn’t called to borrow money, because, much as she’d like to help them, Nadine barely had enough to meet her own bills this month.

“If I hadn’t picked up when the landlord called tonight, I probably wouldn’t have found out until I got home from work and saw all our stuff sitting at the curb. We’re being evicted.”

“Can’t you can bargain with your landlord, explain things and promise to catch up a little extra with your rent every month?”

“That might have worked…six months ago.”

Julie had been hiding the bounced checks from him for that long? That didn’t sound like the sweet girl his son had married. Nadine prayed she hadn’t turned secretive because Adam had inherited his father’s vicious temper, making her afraid to confess her mistakes. “Try not to be too hard on her, Adam. A thing like that…it could happen to anyone.”

“Once or twice, maybe. But for almost a year?” He sighed into the phone. “Come on, Mom. Even you don’t believe that.”

No, she didn’t. But her boy was already hurting enough. “So here’s what we’ll do,” she said. “First thing in the morning, you kids will pack your car as full as you can, and once you get here, you can borrow my pickup for the rest. We’ll store your furniture in the barn, and you know there’s plenty of room for you here.”

She could almost see him—one hand over the phone’s mouthpiece as he relayed the information to his young wife. When Julie came on the line, her voice was thick with tears. “You’re a lifesaver, Mom. A marriage saver, too. I—I don’t know how we’ll ever make it up to you.”

Orphaned at eight, the poor girl had bounced from one foster home to another for years. It had taken a while to smooth the girl’s rough edges, but in the five years the kids had been together, Nadine had come to love her like a daughter, and Julie’s pain was almost as unbearable for her as Adam’s. “You don’t owe me a thing, honey. We’re family, and this is what families do.”

Her shaky sigh echoed through the phone line. “Still, I feel just awful that my stupidity put us all in this situation. Let me show my appreciation by doing the cooking and cleaning, and the laundry, too.”

“Goodness, what makes you think you’ll have the time and energy for all that after a full day at the dealership?”

A long pause, and then, “I—I lost my job.”

Nadine didn’t know what to say.

“The manager fired me, for an error…”

“An error that cost the company nearly $50,000!” Adam hollered from the background.

Nadine suppressed a gasp. Fifty thousand dollars! What in the world could be distracting Julie so badly! “Have you talked with the owner of the dealership? Maybe he’ll overlook it, just this once?”

On the heels of a long, shuddering sigh, Julie said, “Wasn’t my first mistake.”

Nadine heard Adam, grumbling and growling in the background, and then Julie said, “Fine. Whatever. You talk to her, then, Mr. Know-it-all.”

She’d worked hard to teach him to treat women with gentle respect, but Adam was, after all, his father’s son, too. Maybe, their moving in would give her another chance to reinforce those lessons. But would the situation turn into the blessing in disguise people were forever talking about, or add fuel to the resentment already burning between them? Nadine had a feeling that, either way, she’d spend a lot of time on her knees in the weeks and months ahead.

Adam said, “She’s got us in such muddle that we can’t even afford to rent a truck, so thanks for the loan of yours. And for putting us up, too. I’ll find a new job and get us out of your hair as fast as I can. Promise.”

Had she ever heard him this angry? Nadine didn’t think so. But at least he had kept a lid on his temper. So far. Lord, she prayed, help me say things that will defuse the situation. “There’s no hurry at all, son. I’m going to love having you home again!”

So, she thought after hanging up, these would be her last hours alone in the house. If these walls could talk, she thought, wandering the quiet rooms, what tales they would tell, about accusations and insults and violence.

Scowling, she shook off the ugly memories, focused instead on what needed to be done by morning. She’d give Adam and Julie the guestroom, and put Amy in her daddy’s old room. And wouldn’t the sewing room, with its nooks and crannies and sunny window seat make a wonderful playroom!

While dusting and vacuuming and putting clean sheets on the beds, Nadine had to remind herself that what the kids were going through was awful, and it couldn’t have been easy, asking for her help. It would take some effort on all their parts to adjust to the situation, but by the grace of God, they’d manage. Soon, the kids would dig themselves out of their financial hole and find a new place to live.

“Just not too soon, Lord…”

Chapter Two

“Did you run over a nail or something?” Adam asked.

Squatting, Nadine inspected her right-front tire. “I suppose that’s possible,” she said, feeling for sharp objects. “But nothing seems to be sticking out.”

As Lamont’s pickup roared up the drive, she understood how those first residents of Texas must have felt when they heard the distant notes of the cavalry’s bugle.

“G’morning,” he said, climbing from the cab. His smile faded the moment he saw her flat tire. “What happened?”

“Everything was fine when I got home from grocery shopping last night,” Nadine said, shrugging.

As Lamont stooped to get a closer look, Adam pointed at the gash in her right-front tire. “Found boot-prints in Mom’s rose garden, too, and they’re way too big to be hers…”

“I probably ran over something inadvertently. As for those footprints, they’re probably just Big Jim’s,” she said to Adam. “You know how much he likes flowers.”

“I hate to say it, Mom, but you really oughta fire that guy.”

“I know he seems a little…off, but Jim wouldn’t hurt a fly.” She laughed a little. “And I mean that quite literally. He’s adopted several, you know.”

Lamont and Adam exchanged an “Oh, brother” look.

“He’s the hardest-working ranch hand I’ve ever had.” She shrugged. “So he likes to keep bugs as pets and builds little cages for them. What’s the harm in—”

“Mom,” Adam interrupted, “no disrespect, but that’s just plain weird.”

“Adam’s right, Nadine. That is weird.”

Sighing, she looked at the cloudless blue sky. Could she make them understand? “Listen,” she began again, “if he can be kind to a bug of all things, surely he wouldn’t hurt me. Besides, he’s worked here for years. Why would he start doing crazy things all of a sudden?”

“Would he even know if he hurt you?” Adam asked.

“Good question,” Lamont added. “I mean, maybe he flattened the tire because he liked the hissing sound or something.”

“Honestly, listen to yourselves!” Nadine scolded. “Jim’s a little slow, but he isn’t an idiot.”

The men traded another “Uh-huh” look.

“And there isn’t a mean bone in his body!” she added.

Lamont unpocketed his hands, pointed at the tire, then the flowerbed. “Now look, it’s all well and good to believe in the innate decency of people, but you’re carrying it to an extreme. Jim might be abnormal by some standards, but he’s still a man. I’ve seen the way he looks at you.”

“How…Jim?” The very idea inspired a nervous laugh. “Now that is crazy.”

He looked to Adam for confirmation, and her son nodded in agreement. “If you insist on keeping him around, then you’d better keep an eye on him.”

“A sharp eye,” Lamont put in.

“Two against one ain’t fair,” she said. “I can take care of myself. It isn’t as if I haven’t had years of practice.”

“Nobody who’s known you longer than five minutes would disagree, but this is different.”

“The boy’s right,” Lamont said, “on both counts.”

Her two favorite men stood side by side. Why, Adam had even adopted Lamont’s stance, boots shoulder-width apart, arms crossed over his chest. She saw the resolute expressions on their faces. But they had nothing on her when it came to stubbornness. Or accurateness, either. Adam had only been home a few weeks. What did he know about Jim? And Lamont, well, he didn’t know the man at all! Greeneland Ranch was hers and hers alone—land, stock and the mountain of unpaid bills—and she’d run it any way she saw fit, right down to whom she’d employ. “I won’t fire him.” Fists on her hips, she dared them to defy her.

“Oh, all right,” Adam said, hands in the air. “I give up.” He headed for the barn, saying over his shoulder as he went, “Good to see you again so soon, Mr. London.”

“Same here, Adam.”

“Speaking of seeing you,” she said once her son was out of earshot, “what brings you to my place this early on a Sunday morning?” Hopefully, the subtle reference would remind him that this was her turf, and he wasn’t in charge here.

“Just thought maybe you’d like a ride to church. Seems I recall something about your practicing for a solo before the services began.”

Only Julie, Nadine’s accompanist, knew about her rehearsal plans. “So my daughter-in-law is acting as my press agent now, is she?” Nadine grinned. “That girl might just turn out okay after all.”

“After all?”

Julie was forgetful and clumsy, but she had a good heart, especially considering her troubled past. She waved his question away, unwilling to share that private bit of information, even with Lamont. “I’d love a ride into town,” she said, “especially since I don’t have a spare.”

“I’ll drive you to Lotsmart after church, and we can get one.”

Between now and then, she’d have to come up with a legitimate excuse to avoid the side trip, because even at a discount store like Lotsmart, she couldn’t afford a tire. “We have time for a cup of coffee, if you’d like.”

“I’d like.”

And maybe, between now and then, she’d figure out how to keep her heart from hammering every time he smiled at her, too.

Lily’s Valentine’s Day wedding seemed like only yesterday, but the wildflowers popping up everywhere—especially in Nadine’s yard—proved otherwise.

Several times a week, Lamont had used one flimsy pretext after another to drive over there, telling himself that if she didn’t intend to keep an eye on Jim, he would. Why, Lamont wondered, did Nadine’s ranch hand occupy so many of his thoughts here at home, and rarely come to mind as he sipped coffee while her adorable granddaughter chased Julie’s tabby cat around the kitchen?

Yesterday, he called to see if she wanted a ride to the church social. Normally, he didn’t have time for such functions, but if it provided another bona fide reason to see her—and check on Jim—well, then, why not? She’d cited laundry on the clotheslines and a sticky kitchen floor, critters that needed to be fed and weeds to pull in her flowerbed…and Lamont countered every excuse with one of his own. Thankfully, he wore her down.

He couldn’t believe how fast the time passed as they stuffed themselves on baked ham and potato salad, talking with their fellow parishioners. Since Rose’s death, his involvement at church had been limited to Sunday services, because everywhere he looked, his wife’s contributions were constant reminders of his widowhood. Oddly enough, despite all the hubbub, he’d had a right good time. The enjoyment continued as he drove her home, mostly because Nadine decided to rehash the squabble between Martha Turner and Barbara Gardner over whose vocal rendition of “The Old Rugged Cross” should be sung every Sunday. Dread and disappointment closed around him as his pickup ground its way up her gravel driveway. Had she invited him up to the house because she’d sensed it?

“It’s such a pretty night,” she said. “How about joining me for a cup of tea on the back porch?”

If she’d suggested guzzling it from a washtub on the roof, Lamont would have found a way to join her. Amazing, since the only time he’d allowed the stuff past his lips was the few occasions when he spiked a fever. Yet here he sat, toes tapping, fingertips drumming on the arms of his rocker as he waited for her to kick off her heels and brew the tea.

He looked around at her yard, colorful even in the semi-darkness. Bright spring blossoms shocked his senses. To him, planting involved seeds that became food for his livestock or turned out a couple of tomatoes and bell peppers for salad. Subconsciously, he compared it to his own lawn, devoid of blooms now that Lily was busy tending her own yard. Until now, he hadn’t realized how much he missed the little things women did to turn a house into a home.

She handed him one of two steaming mugs. “You like yours black, right?”

“Smells like cinnamon,” he said. How’d she know that, he wondered, when he couldn’t for the life of him think of a time when they’d talked over herbal tea? Raising families and running ranches hadn’t left much time for such niceties. Lately, though, he’d managed to make time for such niceties…lots of it. “I hope you don’t mind my sudden intrusion into your life,” he said as she settled into the other rocker. “You’ve made my adjustment to living alone a whole lot smoother.”

“Oh, I’d hardly call you an intrusion.”

He didn’t know what to make of her slight hesitation. “What would you call me, then?”

Nadine leaned against the headrest of her chair, squinting as she considered her answer. His heart beat double time, waiting…

“I guess I’d have to say, you’re a very pleasant diversion.”

“From what?”

A strange expression—sadness? detachment?—flit across her features like a fast-moving shadow, and he wondered about that, too, as he waited yet again for a reply.

“Oh, just…everything.”

She had a talent for turning two syllables into four, and three into six, just as Rose had. Lamont waited for the usual twinge of grief that followed a memory of his late wife, and when it didn’t come, he chalked it up to Nadine’s gift for making folks feel at ease.

“Do you believe this sky?” She pointed at the stars, winking on their bed of black velvet, then clucked her tongue. “And the so-called experts were calling for thunderstorms…”

“I hope it’s this clear tomorrow night.”

She looked at him over the rim of her mug, and sent his heart into overdrive. “Why?”

He shrugged. “Might be inclined to throw a couple steaks on the grill, if you’ll share ’em with me, that is.”

She put her cup down and turned to face him. “Lamont London,” she said, her blue eyes boring into his, “are you asking me out on a date?”

He’d gone down the “dating road” more times than he cared to remember, with disastrous consequences. Granted, he was mostly to blame, comparing every woman to his wife a couple hundred times between the pickup and the dropoff. He’d made a promise to Rose after that last calamity: Since no woman could hold a candle to her anyway, why torture them and himself? “Can’t a fella be neighborly without people jumping to conclusions?”

It was a moment before she answered, “Sure. I guess so.”

“Sure,” a fellow could be neighborly, or “sure,” she’d share the steaks with him? “Can I take that as a ‘yes’?”

She gave a one-shouldered shrug. “Why not?”

Chuckling, he said, “Try to curb your enthusiasm.”

“Can’t a gal be blunt without people getting overly sensitive?”

My, but he liked the sound of her laughter! But why stop there? He liked everything about Nadine, from her sunny blond hair right to the cherry-red toenails poking out from her terrycloth slippers.

Lamont stared at the floorboards beneath his boots, trying to make sense of everything that was going on in his head and his heart. He’d escorted a couple dozen good-looking women to the movies, dinner and concerts, and never once felt the way he did drinking tea with Nadine.

“I’m probably wasting my breath,” he said, “pointing out that I’m not one to mince words.”

“I’ve been in the crowd at enough cattle auctions to know that’s the truth!” she said, grinning.

Lamont didn’t have a clue what she meant. But that was no surprise, because what he knew about women, he could put in one eye.

She reached over the table between them and gently squeezed his forearm. “And I like you, too. You’ve always been a good neighbor, and I count myself lucky to call you a ‘friend,’ too.”

“I like you, Nadine.”

Friend? The term made him sound like a wet-behind-the-ears schoolboy, because he wanted this—whatever this was between them—to be so much more. And doggone it, he didn’t cotton to feeling this way, not one little bit! He’d sustained broken bones taming wild stallions, and the ice-white scars on his forearms were reminders of his run-ins with barbed wire. The whole idea behind dating vain, empty-headed beauties was to ensure he’d never be tempted to marry one of them. But this thing with Nadine?

Show me a sign, Lord. Show me a sign!

The wind kicked up, thunder echoed in the distance and a bolt of lightning sliced the black sky. Coincidence? Or had God decided that it took the power of nature to get the message through his thick skull?

He didn’t have time to come up with an answer because, quick as the blink of an eye, the skies opened up. Lamont could barely see his truck through the teeming rain.

“Oh, my,” she said, standing to gather their cups, “you’d better make tracks, cowboy. You know what that road is like in a storm…”

Yeah, he knew. The hard-packed runoff would turn the blacktop into a swift-moving river of muddy water. But his place was just over the next rise. If he floored the pickup, he could make it home in ten minutes flat. Plenty of time to spend with Nadine—

Thunder boomed directly overhead and lightning exploded, brightening her yard.

Okay, Lord, I can take a hint…

“Guess I’d better make a run for it,” he said, jamming the Stetson onto his head. “Thanks for the tea.”

And as he hotfooted it toward his truck, he couldn’t help but wonder if he was running from the storm flashing all around him…

…or the one roiling in his heart.

Chapter Three

Nadine tossed and turned for hours, alternately staring at the ceiling and punching her pillows. Flipping the covers aside, she stepped into her bedroom slippers and headed downstairs, belting a light terry robe on the way. No need for lights for, even in the dead of night she could navigate these rooms with her eyes closed. No surprise there, with all the practice she’d gotten while Ernest was alive. How many times, she wondered, filling the teapot with water, had she paced the floors, trembling with fear and rage and bitterness as she waited for the throbbing aches and pains of yet another beating to ease?

“Too many to count,” she whispered, staring at the blue flame that she turned on under the kettle. She’d worked hard to keep the cuts and bruises camouflaged, a job made easier because Ernest had always been careful to leave evidence of his brutality in places that could be covered. If she didn’t know better, she would have said he took those lessons from her own father.

When had the switch flipped, she wondered, turning Ernest from the loving young man who vowed to protect his sweetheart from her father’s manhandling, to the mean-spirited husband who made her pa seem gentle as a kitten? A jagged scar on her forearm, the remnant of a long-ago beating, caught her eye. Instinct made her tug at the sleeve of her robe to hide it.

Old habits die hard, she glumly thought. If Nadine had a dollar for every time someone asked why she’d worn trousers and long-sleeved shirts in the dead of summer, maybe she could pay one of the steadily mounting bills that lay in a tidy stack on her desk.

These past three years had been tougher than any in memory. The run of bad fortune began when her stud bull broke free of his pen and wandered into the path of a speeding eighteen-wheeler. Two calves born that spring had been too weak to survive. The following fall, weevils had attacked her fields, destroying the harvest that would have fed the livestock. Then, three years of oppressive, unrelenting drought.

Somehow, Nadine managed to hang on through the first two years, even as other ranchers filed for bankruptcy. But this year? This year, her grip was slipping with each passing day.

She carried her tea outside and stood on the porch. The crisp scent of rain made her heart ache with dreary acceptance, because the steady downfall that now pounded the hard-packed earth had come weeks too late to save this year’s crops.

Lamont’s spread, by contrast, seemed untouched by nature’s cruel hand. But then, he’d had the financial resources to dig deep wells that helped irrigate his fields. If one of his bulls died? Well, he had dozens of others grazing in white-fenced green pastures. Neighbors envied Lamont’s knack for turning profits into wise investments. Some went as far as to ask his advice about where to put their money, when there was money left after filling their creditors’ pockets. Nadine respected and admired Lamont’s talents but, God help her, she envied them, too.

And envy was wrong. Spiteful and sinful. “A sound heart is the life of the flesh,” she quoted Proverbs, “but envy the rottenness of the bones.”

Shivering, she tilted her face toward the Heavens. “Lord, a little more backbone might be useful right about now.”

Backbone. Lamont had it in abundance. Truth be told, it was his grit and his guts that she envied more than anything else.

Bowing her head, she hugged the thick ceramic mug to her chest. As the steaming brew warmed her face, she took a deep breath, pictured him sitting at her kitchen table, looking as though he belonged, stirring sugar into his cup with a spoon that, in his powerful, callused hand, looked like one from Amy’s tea set.

Just thinking about him made her pulse race.

And she didn’t welcome the reaction, either. Several times tonight, she would have sworn he aimed to kiss her, and the thought made her scramble for legitimate excuses to keep plenty of space between them, physically and emotionally.

She’d seen Lamont lose his temper—during cattle auctions, in the feed and grain, at the hardware store. Ernest personified the “street angel, house devil” rule; if Lamont behaved that way when people were around, how much more aggressive might he be one-on-one?

She couldn’t afford to find out.

Nadine leaned against a porch support post as a mist of rain bounced up from the flagstone steps and onto her slippered feet. She barely felt it, though, as she thought of Rose. In all the years Nadine had known her, Lamont’s wife hadn’t given so much as a hint of being abused. But then, it wasn’t likely Rose would have guessed what often went on inside Nadine’s house, either.

Could she be wrong about Lamont? Did he fit the “His bark is worse than his bite” adage?

Not that it made a bit of difference. Nadine didn’t trust herself to make smart decisions where men were concerned, so except for the few who worked for her at Greeneland Ranch, she’d avoided them altogether. And despite hard times, she’d held on as well as any male rancher she could name.

Shoulders sagging, she went back inside, bolted the door behind her and resigned herself to spending a few hours with the Good Book. God’s word had helped her keep “white knight” dreams at bay in the past. By morning, any romantic notions about Lamont would be a distant memory, and she’d go back to accepting her lot in life.

But she didn’t have to like it.

Bright and early the next morning, it was still raining when Adam padded into the kitchen, looking rumpled and frazzled as the weather outside. “Look at this mess,” he said, stacking coloring books and construction paper on the table. He flopped onto a straight-backed chair as she closed her crossword puzzle book. “You can’t even get a minute’s peace and privacy since we invaded your house.”

“You know I love having you…”

“It’s only temporary,” Adam said, “until Julie and I get this mess straightened out.”

How many times had he said that since they’d moved in, weeks ago? Lord, she prayed, help me find words to comfort him. “I feel terrible admitting it,” she said, sitting beside him. “But your cloud has been my silver lining. I haven’t been this contented since before you and Julie got married and you left me all alone.”

Adam chuckled at her deliberately exaggerated misery. “You’re the best, Mom.”

She’d been listening to her boy’s laughter all his twenty-six years and knew when it was sincere and when it wasn’t. Her heart ached for her only child. Maternal love hadn’t protected him from measles or chicken pox; hadn’t saved him from skinned knees, sprains and fractures; hadn’t spared him the anguish of a breakup once he reached dating age. She couldn’t protect him from this, either, but she aimed to try.

“Maybe while we’re here,” he said, “Julie will learn a thing or two from you about how to be a good wife and mother.”

“Thank goodness I sent her to the cellar to sort laundry, because if she heard a thing like that, she’d be crushed. I’ll admit she did some pretty ridiculous things, but you know in your heart she didn’t do them on purpose. Why, the way that poor girl was raised, it’s a wonder—”

“I’m tired of letting her off the hook because of her background.”

She pressed a palm to each of his cheeks. “Julie is your wife, Adam, and the mother of your child. That money she lost is gone, but you can earn more. If you drive her away, well, you can’t be sure you’ll get her back. It’s as plain as the nose on your face that she’s trying. Give her credit for that, at least.”

His expression reminded her of days long gone, when a shrug and a half smile were precursors to a bored “I guess you’re right.” This time, he got up and grabbed the lunch bucket he’d been carrying since he started that stock-boy job at Lotsmart.

He was halfway out the door when she said, “Will you do me a favor today?”

“Sure.”

“Pray about what I said?”

“Guess it can’t hurt,” he said, his voice glum. “At least that won’t cost me anything.”

Every chance she got that day, she prayed, too. Nadine thanked God that neither the landlord nor the manager of the car dealership had decided to press charges against Julie, and for providing Adam with a job that helped put food on the table and keep the lights turned on. She asked Him to soften her son’s heart toward his young, confused wife, and begged him to supply every dime required to keep the bank from foreclosing on her ranch. He’d seen her through bad times before, and He’d see her through this one, too. Nadine believed that. She had to believe it!

The jangling phone startled her, and she silenced it with a surly, “Hello…”

“Ah, a voice for sore ears…”

Was Lamont’s voice really all it took to sweeten her sour mood?

“What time should I put the steaks on?”

Nadine had tossed and turned for hours, and by morning, convinced herself that she’d misread his signals. Why would a handsome, powerful widower be interested in a nearly broke grandmother whose kids had come home, adding to her wagonload of emotional and financial baggage? She came up with just one reason: He was the hero-to-the-rescue type and saw her as someone in need of rescuing. And when he tired of trying to fix what was wrong with her life, he’d move on to the next single gal waiting in the Available Bachelor line. By then, she’d be head over heels and it would hurt like crazy to send him packing. Far better to do it now, when all she felt for him was a tiny, schoolgirl crush. “How rude of me to wait until the last minute,” Nadine began, “but—”

She heard his gruff sigh. “Don’t tell me you’re not coming to dinner…”

“Sorry, but I can’t.” Didn’t dare was more like it, but she decided to keep that to herself.

The pause was so long and complete that, for a moment, she thought they’d been disconnected. Then Lamont said, “Is everything okay?”

Pursing her lips, she resisted the urge to say, “Jim hasn’t killed any flies lately…that I know of.” Stop being such a pessimist, she scolded herself. He’s only asking out of friendly concern for you. “Yes, everything is fine.”

“Guess you’re just busy, eh, what with the kids home again and all. Well, here’s an idea. How about if I bring the steaks over there? I have more than enough for—”

“No.” If she sounded abrupt and cold to herself, how must she have sounded to Lamont? But it wasn’t fair to punish him for the mess her life was in. Wasn’t fair to assume that he was like Ernest, just because he’d shown signs of having a fierce temper. “It’s just—I have a lot to do,” she added, taking care to soften her tone. “Beds to make and—”

“No need to get all defensive with me, Nadine. I understand.”

But his tone told her just the opposite.

“We’ll do it another time,” he added.

Was he waiting for her to agree, perhaps even suggest a day and time? Had she read him right, after all? The very thought filled her with fear and dread, because even if she hadn’t made that ludicrous promise to herself, Ernest was the only man she’d ever dated. Besides, no way she could even begin to compete with the bevy of beauties who surrounded Lamont everywhere he went. “I—I’d better go,” she said. “Julie volunteered to make supper, using an old recipe she found in one of my cookbooks. I promised to make her a list of the ingredients and—”

“Well,” he interrupted, “better get a-move on, myself. But don’t worry your pretty head about these thick juicy steaks going to waste. And don’t give a thought to li’l ol’ me, grilling and eating them all by my lonesome.”

His good-natured teasing wafted into her ear, and she laughed softly. “When I say my devotions later, I’ll be sure to thank God.”

“For what?”

“For making you so big and strong and brave.” Instantly, she regretted the coy comeback.

“Not so big and brave that I don’t feel like a weak knobby-kneed young’un, missin’ the daylights outta his best girl.”

Nadine’s heart ached. Because “what she wanted” and “the right thing to do” were miles apart. “I’m sorry if you went to any trouble with—”

“Hey, you’re no trouble, kiddo. No trouble at all.” He paused. “But even if you were? Trust me, you’d be worth it.”

Hang up, Nadine! Just hang up before you run over there and throw yourself into his arms! “Well,” she muttered, “g’bye, then.”

“See you soon, I hope,” he said, and hung up.

And if Julie and Amy hadn’t burst into the kitchen just then, she probably would have sat right down on the floor and cried like a brokenhearted little girl.

Because that’s exactly how she felt.

Hours later, Lamont was still pacing his big country kitchen, head down and hands in his pockets.

Just last night, Nadine had seemed reasonably excited about his dinner invitation. What had changed between then and now? Had he violated some unwritten rule? Did she expect him to call sooner? More than once? “Women,” he muttered, shaking his head. “The man who can figure ’em out will be a multitrillionaire for sure.”

He grabbed a bottle of root beer from the fridge, pocketing the screw top as he strode into the family room. Settled in his recliner, Lamont picked up the remote and aimed it at the TV. The chair’s well-worn brown leather squeaked in protest as he shifted his six-foot frame. Not even his favorite chair felt comfortable tonight.

Lamont pictured her as she’d looked last night, face aglow in the moonlight and blushing like a teenager as she reminded him that they both had to get up early.

“Doesn’t take a brick to fall on my head,” he’d joked. “I can take a hint.”

“No,” she’d said, giggling, “you can’t. I’ve been dropping hints for the past hour!” Then, as if worried that she might have embarrassed him, Nadine said, “Drive safely. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Well, it was tomorrow, and he didn’t mind admitting to himself what a letdown it had been when she’d canceled on him.

Obnoxious padded into the room, rested his chin on Lamont’s knees and whimpered. From the time he was a pup, the mutt had been attuned to his master’s moods. “Don’t worry, boy,” Lamont said, ruffling his fur, “your old man is fine, just fine.” He got to his feet. “How ’bout we fire up the grill? Who needs a woman around, changing her mind? Besides, we can’t let perfectly good beef go to waste, can we?”

Obnoxious’s ears perked up, and he answered with a breathy bark.

As Lamont flipped the steaks over the open fire, the dog sat watching, waiting patiently, grinning doggy-style. “Wonder if you’d be smilin’ if you knew you were second choice as my dinner companion,” Lamont said, cutting one steak into bite-sized cubes.

Obnoxious tilted his head, fuzzy brows rising as if he’d understood.

“Truth hurts, doesn’t it, boy?”

The dog responded with a quiet yip.

Half an hour later, as Lamont scraped the bony leftovers of their meal into the trash can, he remembered the cool tone in Nadine’s voice. Yeah, the truth hurt, all right, and hopefully, when he shaved in the morning, it wouldn’t stare boldly back at him from the mirror.

The weeks dragged by slower than a donkey-pulled plow. Since Nadine had canceled “steak night,” Lamont had been short-tempered with the ranch hands, and pretty much anyone else who crossed his path, too. His daughter, Lily, had a knack for teasing him out of a foul mood, but in good conscience he couldn’t interrupt the new bride’s zeal to get her house in order, especially not over something that was little more than a foolish infatuation.

Lamont gave some thought to changing Obnoxious’s name to Oblivious, because if the mutt had noticed his master’s beastly behavior, it sure didn’t show. The dog ran circles around him now, leaping and yipping like a puppy as Lamont threw a blanket over the back of his favorite horse. “Long ride on a good horse will cure what ails a man,” he said, cinching the saddle.

He’d barely slid his boot into Barney’s stirrup when his cell phone rang. Lamont would’ve ignored it if it hadn’t been Nadine’s number on the caller ID. Instantly, his spirits lifted, as if a spring breeze had blown his foul mood deep into the dark and distant winter.

“Hey, there, pretty lady!”

A rascally chuckle crackled through the connection, telling Lamont what Adam needn’t have said: “Sorry to disappoint you, Romeo.”

He sounded so much like Ernest that Lamont instinctively shot back with a taunting remark, as he would’ve if Adam’s father had made the comment: “If you’ve got nothing better to do than play with the telephone, c’mon over here. I’ll be glad to—”

Laughing, Adam cut in. “Whoa, there. Easy, big fella.”

Lamont could almost see him, grinning like a hyena, hands in the air as if he were the victim of a holdup.

“I’m just calling to see if you’ll help us celebrate Mom’s birthday tomorrow.”

Birthday? But hadn’t she just celebrated her birthday recently?

“Julie invited some of the folks from church, but mostly, it’ll be neighbors. I’ve been scrimping and saving, but she’s got some harebrained idea that this will show Mom how much we appreciate the way she let us move in here. And it just wouldn’t be a party without Mom’s best beau.”

The term echoed in his head. He’d give just about anything if that were true, but Nadine’s attitude when she canceled dinner echoed louder. Lamont took a deep breath, exhaled it slowly. “You’re not too old to take over my knee, y’know.” Just for good measure, he tacked on, “Whippersnapper.”

Adam snickered. “You’ve been saying that since I stood eye-to-eye with a rooster.”

Lamont thanked God for old memories that, for the moment, anyway, blotted out Nadine’s last phone call. The boy had seemed to prefer hanging around the ranch to staying home, and had enthusiastically performed mundane chores. The price to pay for Lamont came in the form of a few dollars—and pranks of every shape and variety. Adam had been about seven when he coated the door handle of Lamont’s pickup with honey. The boy was eight or nine when he put salt in the sugar bowl. Once, he’d outfitted one of Lily’s piglets in a doll’s raincoat and hung a sign around its neck: “LONDON HOG.” And after reading Tom Sawyer as a homework assignment, he tried to steal one of Cammi’s fresh-baked cherry pies, cooling on the countertop. Startled when Lamont snuck up and seized his wrist, Adam’s fingers pierced the crust. Instead of cringing or crying, the then-eleven-year-old grinned and shrugged. “Guess you caught me red-handed this time, Mr. London!”

If he’d had a son, Lamont would have wanted him to be just like Adam—bighearted and hardworking with a “Never say quit” spirit. “When’s the party?”

“Tomorrow, Mom’s house, three o’clock.”

He’d earmarked tomorrow for mending fences and painting the front porch trim, but given a choice between chores and seeing Nadine?

“Be there with bells on.”

“And carrying a bouquet of daisies?”

Daisies? As if he were courting her? “Adam, if I didn’t know better, I’d think you were still a knock-kneed young’un instead of a grown man with a wife and daughter of his own.”

He heard the grin in Adam’s voice: “Remember what Mom says.”

Lamont shook his head as Adam quoted her: “God and nature have decreed that I must age, but I refuse to get old!”

He also remembered that, as a teenager, Adam had worked at the Flower Cart in town. “So,” Lamont said, “if I wanted to bring roses, instead, what color should I buy?”

“Lemme see if I recall…” Adam cleared his throat. “White stands for purity, red means love, yellow is for friendship, pink is—”

He didn’t hear anything after love. “Should I bring anything?” Lamont asked. “Beans? Ketchup?” He grinned. “Salt for the sugar bowl?”

“For an old guy, you have a pretty good memory.” He quickly added, “Ladies Auxiliary is taking care of the food. Lily’s making iced tea and lemonade, and Cammi’s bringing the cake, so, thanks, but we’re all set.” Adam hesitated. “And just in case you run into her between now and tomorrow, Mom has no idea we’re throwing this bash. I can hardly wait to see her face when everybody bellows, ‘Happy Birthday’! She’s liable to blow a gasket.”

“Let’s hope not. Remember what happened when my old tractor blew one.”

The younger man chuckled. “Gave me nightmares for weeks. See you tomorrow,” he said, hanging up.

“Well, Obnoxious,” Lamont said, “looks like you ’n’ me are goin’ to a birthday party.”

Sitting on his haunches, the dog cocked his head, as if to say “I’m invited?”

“Yeah, you can come,” Lamont said, hoisting himself onto his horse Barney’s back, “but only if you promise to coax Nadine into a corner so I can give her a birthday kiss.”

Obnoxious stared for a moment, then woofed his consent and raced alongside the horse. Lamont led it in a gallop toward the back pastures. “You arrange that for me,” he added, “and I’ll grill up the thickest filet mignon in the freezer, just for you.”

The dog stopped running so fast that dirt and grit spewed out behind him. Standing stock-still, he blinked up at Lamont, doggy grin as big as ever, then ran full speed toward the house.

Lamont leaned forward and patted the horse’s mane. “Barney, m’boy, sometimes I think that mutt understands every word I’m saying.”

By Lamont’s count, there were at least sixty people in Nadine’s backyard, mostly women, but none compared to the birthday girl. Not even his gorgeous daughters—and that was saying something.

He hadn’t been able to take his eyes off her since she stepped off the back porch and slapped both dainty hands to her cheeks. “I can’t believe it!” she chanted half a dozen times. “How’d you guys pull this off without me knowing about it?” The surprise turned her cheeks bright pink, making her look more like a college cheerleader than a grandmother.

She’d pulled her shoulder-length blond hair into a ponytail and secured it with a ribbon that matched the blue of her eyes. White sneakered feet seemed too tiny to hold a full-grown woman upright and, in his opinion, her jeans-clad legs were way too curvy to belong to any woman over twenty-one. Nadine topped off her outfit with a bright white T-shirt that said, “Beware: Picture-packin’ Granny.”

She was like a female Pied Piper, with no fewer than half a dozen tots hugging her knees, tugging at her pockets. As she balanced a chubby baby on one curvy hip, she held a toddler by the hand. Obnoxious pranced around, waiting for a pat on the head, and Julie’s cat wove figure eights between Nadine’s ankles. Yet amid all the squealing and giggling, barking and meowing, she smiled serenely, which only made her more beautiful to Lamont.

Woman like that should’ve had half a dozen kids, Lamont thought. Funny, but until that moment, he’d never wondered why she and Ernest quit after just one. Adam had been a handful, to be sure, but if Nadine could control this mob at the age of fifty-one, surely she could have handled two or three young’uns while she was in her twenties.

She looked up just then, and as their gazes locked, Nadine smiled and waved with the only appendage left: her pinky. Immediately, his heart started knocking against his ribs. What was it about her that could set his pulse to pounding and his palms to sweating? Not even his wife had been able to do that, and he’d loved Rose with all his heart.

Nadine’s granddaughter darted up to Lamont and grabbed his hand. “Will you push me on the swing, Mr. London?” Without waiting for an answer, the four-year-old led him toward Nadine’s wraparound back porch. “Grandmom’s swing is too big. I can’t get it going all by myself.”

As if in a daze, Lamont followed the tiny blonde, then lifted her onto the wide, slatted seat.

“Do you like my new dress?” she asked, smoothing her frilly pink skirt.

“You’re purty as a baby duck,” he drawled, winking.

Amy gave him a sidelong glance. “Are baby ducks pretty?”

“All babies are beautiful.”

As she considered his response, the breeze lifted blond bangs from her forehead, exposing a smattering of tiny freckles. Strange, but she looked more like Nadine than Adam or Julie.

“Do you think Grandmom is pretty?”

“Just between you and me,” he said, looking to see if the coast was clear, “I think she’s one of the most beautiful woman I’ve ever had the pleasure of laying eyes on.”

“Flattery will get you anywhere.”

He’d recognize that voice in a crowd at New York’s Penn Station. Straightening, he turned, hoping she’d blame the heat in his cheeks on the warm afternoon sunshine. “Nadine, how long have you been standing there?”

Hooking thumbs into her belt loops, she bobbled her head. “Exactly long enough.” Then, to Amy, “I’m gonna cut the cake soon, sweetie. Better wash your hands!”

In the blink of an eye, the child was halfway across the yard. “Don’t worry, Grandmom,” she hollered over her shoulder, “I won’t slam the door on the way inside.”

“Good girl!” Nadine called back. She cast a glance at Lamont. “She’s a pistol, that granddaughter of mine.”

“It’s in the DNA, I reckon,” he said, chuckling as the back door banged shut. “Time to cut the cake, you say?”

Nodding, she began walking toward the paper-covered folding table that held an assortment of desserts. “How long did you know about this shindig?”

“Since yesterday afternoon, when Adam called to invite me.”

“That’s what everyone has been saying. He pulled this thing together awfully fast.”

“I got the impression it was Julie who did most of the organizing. And it’s high time you learned to let people do nice things for you once in a while.”

He’d learned decades ago that Nadine didn’t accept compliments well, that she preferred giving to taking.

“This is Adam’s home. Julie and Amy’s, too. I’m thrilled to have them here, even if it is only temporary.”

“Is it?”

Her brow furrowed as she hung her head and sighed heavily. “I hope so. They have some serious money troubles, but…” She bit her lower lip. “Grace Mevers says I should open the presents, but I’d rather not.”

Lamont chose not to press her for more details. Her kids’ financial situation was none of his business, after all. “Because you want to open them after the cake and ice cream?”

“I don’t want to open them at all, because what about those folks who couldn’t afford to bring a gift? This was so last-minute. And everybody’s lives are so busy. Surely some people didn’t have time to bring a gift.” She exhaled a sigh. “I’d hate for anyone to feel uncomfortable.”

Lamont chuckled and, draping an arm over her shoulders, fell into step beside her. “Nadine Greene,” he said, kissing her temple, “you know what your biggest problem is?”

“I don’t like birthday parties?”

“Nope.”

She looked up at him, a half grin on her face as one brow rose with teasing suspicion. “What?”

“Your heart is bigger than your head, that’s what. And I love that about you.”

He felt her stiffen against him when he said that, and for a reason he couldn’t explain, it cut him to the quick. “Just so you’ll know, I intend to be the last guest to leave.”

“Oh?”

He loved the way she moved her delicate hands and batted those thick eyelashes. Fact was, he loved a lot of things about her—things he hadn’t really noticed until lately. “Because,” he said, “I have something for you. It’s in the truck.”

A little gasp passed her lips as her eyes widened. “Lamont, you didn’t have to—”

“I know. I wanted to.”

She glanced at her watch, and he could almost read her mind: In an hour, maybe two, the party would be over and she’d be faced with Lamont and his gift. Alone.

Would that really be so terrible?

Her friend, Grace, stood grinning alongside the rest of the partygoers, ready to strike a big kitchen match. “Don’t light all those candles,” Nadine warned. “They’ll see the smoke all the way in town and send the fire department!”

Time dragged for the rest of the afternoon, and he wondered how she’d behave when her guests had all gone home. Would she treat him with welcoming warmth, as she had the night when they walked hand in hand around her yard, or with aloofness, as she had on the phone the night after?

Lamont shook his head and focused on the friends and neighbors who’d gathered around her. They pressed close, singing a loud, off-key rendition of the birthday song.

Everyone but Lamont.

There she stood, glowing brighter than the candles on her cake, blue eyes wide and smile sparkling, looking more gorgeous than any woman had a right to. And here he stood, admitting, finally, that he wanted to be more than her friend and neighbor.

A whole lot more.

Chapter Four

With the sunset, the last of Nadine’s guests crunched down her narrow gravel drive. As she’d thanked them for the birthday gifts and wished each one a safe trip home, Lamont sat in a rocker on her front porch, her sleeping granddaughter cuddled in his arms.

He couldn’t say exactly when Amy had crawled into his lap, toting a shaggy purple teddy bear. Lamont glanced down at her rosy cheeks and grinned. Long enough for his arm to go numb, anyway. The dull ache seemed small by comparison to the warmth swirling in his heart. It had been a long time since he’d held his own girls this way, and much as he loved what wonderful women they had become, he missed moments like these.

Amy’s steady, restful breaths soothed him. Heavy-lidded himself, Lamont leaned his head against the chair back and closed his eyes. When she sighed and snuggled closer, instinct made him press a soft kiss to her temple.

“If this isn’t a Norman Rockwell moment, I don’t know what is.”

Without opening his eyes, he slurred drowsily, “I’d rather it was a Maxwell House moment.”

“There’s bound to be some left in the coffeepot. Want me to pour you a cup?”

Lamont peered at Nadine through a slit in one eye. She’d pulled out her ponytail, and her golden hair now swung freely around her slender shoulders. Silhouetted by the porch light, he could see every womanly curve. Man, but she was a good-looking gal, even after a long day entertaining guests, their kids and their pets. “What time is it?”

“Time to fix you a nice hot cup of coffee.”

He wanted to tell her to sit with him, instead, but she’d already disappeared inside, like a wisp of smoke blown to the four corners by the spring breeze. Funny, he thought, how in the moment she’d stood there, close enough to touch, the very atmosphere had crackled with excitement. Odder still the knowledge that since she’d left, the air was quiet and still, reminding him of the hush following a thunderstorm. The comparison confused him, because he’d never felt anything but calm and comfortable in her presence. Lamont would have shrugged at the contrasts, if he wasn’t afraid of waking Amy.

Nadine put two big earthenware mugs on the red gingham-covered table between the rockers. “You’d better hope this little nap doesn’t keep her up all night, or you’ll have Julie to answer to.”

“If this li’l munchkin gives you any trouble, feel free to call,” he said, winking. “As you can see, I’m great with kids.”

Doing her best to hide a grin, Nadine crossed both arms over her chest. “You might be sorry you said that, at three o’clock in the morning.”

“Hey, I put in my share of sleepless nights back in the day.”

“I’m sure you did, what with four kids born one right after the other.”

Her expression softened as she tilted her head, and Lamont would have given ten bucks to know what was going on in that head of hers. He didn’t have time to figure it out, because Nadine moved closer and, bending at the waist, put her face mere inches from his.

Disappointment cloaked him like a cool fog when she gently lifted Amy from his arms.

“I’ll just get her tucked in,” Nadine whispered. “If you have to leave before I get back, I’ll understand.”

He hid his discouragement at her not-so-subtle hint behind a slanting grin. “You can’t get rid of me that easily. Your birthday present is still on the backseat of my pickup, and I’m not goin’ anywhere ’til I see you open it.”

“Well, you’re more than welcome to wait inside.” She glanced around the darkened yard, her gaze resting for an instant on paper cups and empty soda bottles. “It’s getting kinda chilly out here.”

When she stepped inside, Lamont grabbed the trash can she’d put on the porch earlier, and dragged it down the flagstone steps. If he knew Nadine, she’d be up there for half an hour or more, getting her sleepy-headed grandchild cleaned up and into pajamas, listening to her prayers, maybe telling her a bedtime story or two. More than enough time for him to get some of the party remnants cleaned up.

He tossed empty potato salad and cole slaw tins into the bag, then put what remained of the birthday cake on her kitchen counter. That done, he stacked her gifts on the living room sofa, placed her birthday cards on the coffee table and, with nothing left to do, headed back to the porch. When he hit the foyer, the distant strains of a familiar lullaby wafted down the stairs, stopping him dead in his tracks.

He followed it up the steps to Amy’s room. Her voice was so lovely, soft and dulcet and the slightest bit husky. But then, he’d be hard-pressed to name something about her that wasn’t lovely.

Was she sitting on the edge of Amy’s mattress, he wondered, or in a stiff-backed chair next to the bed? When Lamont peered around the corner, it didn’t surprise him to see Nadine stretched out on the mattress with Amy nestled happily in the crook of her grandmom’s arm.

He smiled, then remembered the flat, rectangular package still sitting on his backseat. Tiptoeing down the steps, he headed for the driveway, hoping she’d like his gift. Something told him he’d never know for sure because, earlier, he’d watched her fawn over a gaudy clay refrigerator magnet the church organist had sculpted for her, seen her fuss over the sweater vest Marian the librarian had crocheted from pea green and purple angora.

Lamont sat in the rocker on her porch, the present in his lap. The coffee was cold now, but he sipped it anyway, enjoying every swallow because Nadine had made it for him. He felt at ease here, inhaling the aromas from her potted plants, looking out over the expanse of freshly mowed lawn, listening to crickets and night birds that filled the darkness with harmonious song. He could picture himself whiling away the evening hours with her, right here on this porch, chatting until it was time to turn in.

“I do believe this is the first time I’ve seen a tough cowboy with a pink bow on his belt.”

He looked down. The way the gift rested in his lap, it did appear that he’d worn a fancy ribbon in place of a belt buckle. Laughing, he sat up straighter as she settled into the rocker beside him. “It isn’t much,” he said, handing her the little box.

“You shouldn’t have, Lamont.”

“Sure, I should. Gal doesn’t turn thirty-five every day.”

“Flatterer,” she said, and carefully removed the ribbon. “Did you wrap this yourself?”

“Can’t you tell by the wrinkles and the tape hiding the rips?”

“I really hadn’t noticed,” she said, lifting the box top.

Nadine parted the tissue paper and peered inside. “A gift certificate?” Turning it over in one hand, she read, “Dinner for Two at Cowboy Joe’s, Best Steak House in Texas.” She bit her lower lip before meeting his eyes. “Lamont, you shouldn’t ha—”

“Sure, I should,” he said again. Shrugging, he added, “I just thought, well, I kinda hoped you’d use it to treat me to a steak dinner.” He grinned. “You know, to make up for canceling steak night.”

Nadine tucked the card back into its tissue-paper bed, replaced the lid, and sat the gift on the table beside Lamont’s half-empty coffee mug. “Thank you.”

Was she blushing? And why on earth was her lower lip trembling? And was that a tear glistening at the corner of her eye? Last thing he wanted to do was upset her. Presents were supposed to make people happy, not make them cry. “Nadine,” he said, reaching across the space separating them, “it’s your gift. I was only kidding. Take anyone you please to dinner at Joe’s.”

Nadine patted his hand. “It’s a wonderful, thoughtful gift,” she interrupted, “and I can’t think of anyone I’d rather share it with than you.”

Did she mean it? He stared deep into her big blue eyes. Well, it sure looked like she’d meant it. So then, why the waterworks? Sighing, Lamont prayed for a sliver of knowledge to help him understand this remarkable woman.

“And thanks for cleaning up the yard. You didn’t have to do that, either.”

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