Honky-Tonk Cinderella. Karen Templeton

had at once time stolen his breath sparked in her eyes. “And I’m supposed to find that reassuring?” she said, then let out a weighted sigh, as worry once again creased her brow. “He wasn’t always like this.” He saw her swallow and look away, rubbing her belly. “Everything just seems to have gotten away from me.”

      The urge to hold her—and the terror of what the feel of her softness in his arms would do to him—was so strong Alek shook with it. Barely five feet separated them, a space he could cover in two strides…a space that spelled the difference between sanity and folly. But dear God—the only other time he’d ever heard her admit to needing something beyond herself was the night they’d made the child currently having a sulk-fest in his room. The night Alek had run from the very things now staring him in the face and demanding his attention.

      Whether or not he was now any better equipped to deal with any of it, he had no idea. And there was the very real chance that his clumsy attempts to atone for his youthful cowardice could well make things worse. But what choice did he have? All his life Alek had gone to extraordinary lengths to avoid letting another human being lean on him. Now, in one breath-stealing, epiphanous flash, he realized what a precious thing it was to earn someone’s trust enough to be considered worthy of being leaned on.

      Especially the trust of a woman who would choke on her own pride before she admitted she needed help.

      Be that as it may, the fact was that too many people had turned their backs on Luanne Evans Henderson. The least Alek could do was reverse the trend.

      “I have an idea,” he said.