The Rancher And The Nanny. Caroline Cross

at her. She jerked her gaze away from him and stared down at her lap, pink touching her cheeks as she began to pluck at her skirt with her pale fingers.

      He cleared his throat. “So…how was your day?”

      She shrugged one thin shoulder. “Okay.”

      “Anything interesting happen?”

      Her fingers stilled. After a moment, she nodded. “Uh-huh.”

      He waited, but she remained silent. “What?” he said finally.

      To his surprise, she suddenly sucked in a breath and turned to face him. “Jenny Handelmen asked me to come to her birthday party!”

      He stared at her. Her usually sober little face was lit up like a Christmas tree. “She did?”

      “Uh-huh. She wasn’t going to—” her pleasure dimmed a fraction “—but her mom said she had to ask all the girls in the class.”

      John suppressed the urge to ask who in the hell had felt compelled to tell her that. “Yeah, well, the important thing is you got invited,” he said awkwardly.

      She appeared to think about that. “I guess.” Her face brightened. “She’s going to have pizza, and a Barbie cake and chocolate ice cream. And she said we’re gonna play games!”

      He frowned, surprised by the extent of her excitement. “That’s good, huh?”

      She started to reply, then appeared to reconsider. “I think so.”

      “Don’t you know?”

      She shook her head and her unruly mop of dark blond corkscrew curls bobbed around her shoulders, making him belatedly wonder what had become of the ponytail he’d struggled so hard to secure that morning. “I—I’ve never been to a birthday party before.”

      “You haven’t?”

      “Uh-uh.”

      “Why not?”

      She shrugged, her expression suddenly uncertain. “Grandma always said no.”

      “Huh.” He’d known Lissy’s grandmother only briefly, but it hadn’t taken him long to form an opinion about her character. He wondered if it had been disapproval of having fun in general or the price of a gift that had made the old lady deny the kid such a simple pleasure.

      “So can I go?”

      He started to say yes, then caught himself. “When is it?”

      “Saturday.”

      “This Saturday? Tomorrow?”

      “Uh-uh.” She shook her head. “The next one.”

      His heart sank. “Are you sure?”

      “Uh-huh.”

      “What time?”

      “Six. Remember, I told you, we’re gonna have pizza for dinner.”

      Great. The annual Cattlemen’s Association banquet was due to kick off at seven the same night in Missoula, a hundred and twenty-five miles away. He’d already tried and failed to get a sitter, so he’d gone ahead and made a reservation for the two of them at the hotel. As outgoing president, there was no way he could miss it.

      Yet something told him that Lissy wasn’t going to see it that way. He glanced at her. For once she was staring straight at him. Her eyes—the same intense blue as his own—were bright with anticipation. “Can I go? Please?”

      He swallowed a curse. “No, I’m afraid not.”

      She blinked in surprise, her long lashes brushing her translucent cheeks as all the joy drained from her face. “Oh,” she said in a small voice.

      “Look, I’m sorry.” Even to his own ears, his voice sounded stilted. “I’ve got a meeting that night and I can’t miss it.”

      “Oh,” she said again. She swallowed hard, turning away to once more stare down at her lap. “It’s okay,” she said after a moment. “I—I didn’t really want to go anyway.”

      It was clearly a lie. Yet try as he might, John couldn’t think how to address it—much less what he could say that would make things better. Feeling guilty and frustrated, he looked away from her still little face and pretended to be absorbed in the road in front of him.

      They traveled the last half mile to the house in total silence. Pulling into the same spot where he’d parked earlier, he stopped the truck and turned off the engine. “I’ve got to get some stuff from the barn,” he said gruffly. He nodded toward the porch. “Why don’t you go on in? Have a quick snack and then you need to change into some play clothes.”

      “What for?” she said dully.

      “We need to run some salt licks up to the herd at Blue Ridge.”

      She still didn’t look at him. “But…couldn’t I stay here? Please?”

      He considered. It was a good thirty miles to the ridge round-trip. It would be dark by the time he got back. If something were to happen to her… He shook his head. “No.”

      Silence. And then, with an air of utter dejection, she gave a faint sigh. “Okay.” Without another word, she opened the door and climbed out, sliding the last foot to the ground before nudging the door shut and heading for the porch. She looked very small and very much alone as she trudged along, her shoulders slumped, her feet dragging in her scuffed white shoes.

      John watched until she disappeared inside the house. For a moment he sat motionless. Then he let loose a curse and slammed his fist against the dashboard. Damn it! She deserved better than this. She deserved better than him. There had to be something he could do, some way he could make things better—

      There is, you sorry sonofabitch. The solution was here earlier asking for a job—remember?

      The thought froze him in place. He started to deny it, but in the next moment all his earlier arguments against hiring Eve seemed to fade away, replaced by the image of Lissy’s sad little face. He sank back against the seat, his anger abruptly replaced by a sort of grim resignation.

      Okay. So he didn’t particularly like Eve. What did it matter? It was Lissy’s happiness that was important. And it wasn’t as if he had other options. If having Eve around would make things better, he could handle his feelings—couldn’t he?

      As for his unfortunate physical attraction to her… Big deal. It wasn’t his way to let his feelings cloud his judgment, or his desires dictate his actions. And he certainly wasn’t a stranger to deprivation. He’d lived most of his life without the sort of things—such as a home or family or even a close companion—that other people took for granted. He could handle himself.

      As quickly as that, his mind was made up. For Lissy’s sake, he’d do it.

      And to hell with his gut, which was already warning him that Ms. Chandler was going to be nothing but trouble.

      And that he was making a big mistake.

      Three

      “You ready?”

      Poised in the open doorway of her childhood home, Eve considered John and his less-than-gracious greeting. He looked very big as he stood backlit by afternoon sunshine, the breeze ruffling the navy T-shirt tucked into his close-fitting jeans.

      Very big, very remote—and far from friendly. The old adage “Be careful what you wish for” played through her head. Three days ago she’d been distraught when he’d refused to give her a job.

      Now, face-to-face with him again, she felt distraught that he had.

      A faint, self-mocking sensation curled through her. Clearly this was the time to remind herself that if not for John’s change of heart, she’d be on a Greyhound bus right now bound for who knew where. And that no matter how much she might