Desperately Seeking Daddy. Arlene James

smiled approvingly and tilted his face up for a kiss. He flung his arms around her neck and smacked her noisily on the mouth. She noted that she didn’t have to bend as far as she had only a month or so ago. He was growing up, this first-born son of hers, and much too quickly from her perspective. She wondered what had put that sparkle in his usually solemn eyes and what it had to do with Jackson Tyler.

      “I’ll only be a minute,” she promised, her gaze wandering once more to the big man standing in the middle of her small living room. She turned Cody toward the bedroom he shared with his brother and sister and ushered him down the hall, leaving him at the door with a whispered admonishment to be very quiet. He nodded and slipped inside the room.

      Heller hurried on down the hallway to the bathroom. Quickly, she tidied herself, her mind whirling with questions. She wished she had time to change clothing, but she knew that would only delay the answers she needed to quell her concerns. Besides, this was a conference, not a date. She only hoped that whatever Jack Tyler had to say would not threaten the sanctity of her family. God knew they were already holding on by a thread.

      

      Jack waited uncomfortably for Heller Moore to return. Taking her to breakfast had been a stroke of genius. Not only could Heller eat a proper meal in a relaxing setting, he could tell her about the advertisement without embarrassing either her or Cody more than necessary. In addition, it might allow him to deal with the situation without disappointing the boy. He’d read the hope and delight in Cody’s sleepy eyes when he’d mentioned the advertisement and had known what the boy was thinking. It did Jack’s ego no harm to think the kid was pleased with the prospect of him as a stepfather, however unlikely the scenario, and he’d realized how embarrassed the boy would be to learn of his mistake—not to mention his mother’s embarrassment at having his foolish scheme revealed in front of another party.

      That other party was even then studying him with narrowed, blackened eyes, as if he were a piece of merchandise on a shelf. He curbed his impulse to tell her to mind her own business, and settled for asking a few politely framed questions in the guise of small talk. In short order he learned that she was the baby-sitter, trading her services for a place to sleep on Heller’s couch, meals and a little spending money. Obviously she didn’t put herself out more than she had to, and she hadn’t displayed excellent judgment in letting him in without so much as a glance at his face or a word of explanation.

      He was warning her about the dangers of opening the door to a stranger when Heller returned, still wearing the faded uniform but looking a bit revived. He winced inwardly at the scathing words he’d planned for this small, spunky woman who worked two demanding jobs just to keep her family together in this little trailer. Buying her breakfast seemed a mild atonement for jumping to conclusions. He opened the door for her, noting the quirk of her lips as she marked that small courtesy. Was courtesy such a useless commodity in her life then? It seemed so.

      She went straight to his car, waiting beside it with a small, wry smile until he opened the door and helped her inside. Thanking him with a nod of her head and that quirk of her lips, she buckled her seat belt. He walked around the car and slid in beside her. His hand fell automatically to the sheet of paper that lay facedown on the seat between them, but she put her head back, closed her eyes and sighed, exhaustion evident in the slump of her shoulders and the slack muscles of her face. He picked up the paper, folded it and slipped it into his shirt pocket. It could wait until she’d eaten.

      

      The local cafe had already seen its morning rush and was enjoying the lull before the bustle of preparing for the lunch crowd. Jack waved at the middle-aged waitress sipping a cup of coffee at a table near the kitchen door. She smiled and got up, making her way toward the booth into which he and Heller Moore settled. Heller pulled a menu from beneath the napkin dispenser, murmuring, “I’m starved.”

      “Morning, Jack!”

      He smiled at the waitress, another one of those women who worked unbelievably hard for far too little compensation and looked it. How long, he found himself wondering, before Heller’s face and hands began to show the kind of wear and tear that this woman’s did? He found the thought unpleasant.

      “Good morning, Liz. This is Mrs. Moore.”

      Liz cracked her gum and grinned down at Heller. “Yeah, I know you. You work down at the convenience store, don’t you?”

      “That’s right.” Heller returned her smile.

      Liz pulled out her pad and pencil, ready to get down to business. “What can I get you?”

      Heller studied the menu she’d opened. Jack glanced at Liz. “Coffee and Danish for me.”

      Heller snapped the menu closed. “Same.”

      He reached over and flipped the menu open again. “Order a decent breakfast. I’ve already had one.”

      She couldn’t quite hide her relief and pleasure. “If you insist.”

      He winked at Liz as Heller went over the choices again.

      “Um, I’ll have the Belgian waffle and coffee,” she decided.

      “Bring her an order of sausage links and hash browns with that,” he added, feeling positively expansive.

      “Oh, it’s too much,” she protested, but Liz had already received her instructions and was walking away.

      “And rush it,” Jack called to the retreating waitress. She flipped an acknowledgment with one hand and stabbed her pencil into the jumble of curls atop her head.

      “I’m sorry for standing you up this morning,” Heller apologized after a moment.

      Jack nodded and shrugged. “I understand. Circumstances beyond your control.”

      “I couldn’t call. They don’t allow us to make personal calls from the nursing home, especially long-distance ones.”

      He nodded again and asked a few astute questions about the place where she worked, learning that it was a small, private facility in a neighboring community. She liked the old folks, she said, but it was heavy work. Thankfully, it was only four hours most nights. Four hours after standing on her feet all day at the convenience store, he mused silently. The food arrived in record time. He mentally promised Liz a generous tip as he watched Heller wade in with relish. For a small woman, she could certainly pack it in. Two jobs must require twice the nutrition, Jack mused.

      They were enjoying final cups of coffee, the table having been cleared, when he drew the folded paper from his pocket and placed it on the table. “I found this posted on that big bulletin board outside the grocery yesterday,” he said without preamble.

      She picked it up, unfolded it and stared at what was revealed. He watched her jaw drop and her face turn hot pink. “Good grief!”

      He dropped his gaze to his cup. “It’s quite a good likeness, actually,” he said softly. Then he ratcheted up his gaze. “I’m sure Cody didn’t mean to embarrass you.”

      She covered her face with both hands, pushed her hair back and sighed, staring down at the crayon markings on the paper. “He wants to help. He knows it’s difficult, being a single parent. I try not to let him see, but—” Her voice thinned and wobbled. In another moment, tears dripped onto the lined paper.

      Jack sat stunned for a moment, his heart turning over in his chest. He hadn’t expected her to cry. That was the last thing he’d expected, and he felt helpless to deal with it. To his disgust, the only thing he could think to do was to take her in his arms and promise her that all would be well. But he couldn’t do that. He hardly knew the woman. He settled for fishing a paper napkin out of the dispenser and thrusting it at her. She took it, sniffed and dried her cheeks.

      “You must think I’m an awful mother,” she said directly, lifting tearful eyes.

      To his surprise he thought she was utterly beguiling, beautiful and brave. He gave his head an awkward shake, as much to dislodge the thought as to deny hers. “Uh, no. No, it’s obvious you’re doing the best you can in