A Baby for Mummy. Cathy Thacker Gillen

nodded.

      They didn’t know how good that sounded, Emily thought wistfully. But seeing the label of the can, Emily had to decline. Caffeine was among the things she had to avoid these days, too. “Thanks. No.”

      “So are you going to come and cook for us all the time?” Kayla propped her chin on her upraised hand and searched Emily’s face. “‘Cause I would be really, really, really happy if you did.”

      

      FOR A SECOND, DAN NOTED, Emily looked almost tempted. Then she seemed to catch herself. A hint of sadness and regret flashed in her eyes. “Oh, honey…” she began.

      Dan knew she was about to decline.

      Across the room, a burst of salsa music radiated from inside her shoulder bag.

      Emily rose in relief, all business once again. “I apologize, but I’m really going to have to get that. I’ve been waiting for a call from my Realtor all day.” Phone to her ear, Emily ducked out of the kitchen gracefully and walked toward the front foyer.

      “You kids are on for dishes,” Dan said. “Kayla, you clear, Ava, load the dishwasher, Tommy, wipe down the table and counters and take out the trash.”

      For once, there was no grumbling as the kids rose from the table. Maybe, Dan surmised, it was because they were all full, and hence, content—at least as far as their tummies went. Emotionally, well, it was hard to fix the absence of a mom in their lives without getting involved again, and that was something he did not want to do. His life was too complicated and busy as it was.

      From the hall, Emily’s voice rose in agitation.

      “They can’t do that, can they? I just got the okay on my mortgage application!” She sounded distraught. “Of course I can’t match that! At least tell me who did this. Tex Ostrander!”

      Who was Tex? Dan wondered.

      Obviously the guy had some emotional connection to Emily.

      Abruptly her voice cut off. Became calm and professional. “Yes. I understand. I’ll talk to you in a few days.”

      “Wonder what’s happening there?” Tommy asked beneath his breath.

      Dan wondered, too, as did everyone else in his family.

      Emily strode back into the kitchen. Tears of frustration glimmered in her eyes. “Sorry about that,” she said in a choked voice. “I just got some really bad news.” She rubbed her hand across her forehead. “Would you mind if I took your lists home tonight, studied them…and then came back again to talk to you about my suggestions?”

      “Of course it’s fine.” Dan moved toward her. “I’ll walk you out.”

      He waited until they reached her car, then said, “Is there anything I can do?”

      Her lower lip trembling, Emily leaned against her van and turned her glance away. “Not unless you can magically buy back the Fredericksburg orchard my family owned when I was growing up.” Sighing, she pushed her hand through her mahogany hair and turned her gaze to his, clearly needing to vent. “It went up for sale a few months ago. As soon as I heard, I talked to the owners. Told them I wanted it, put some earnest money down and started saving for the full down payment.”

      Emily swallowed and gestured ineffectually. “I mean, I knew technically that, until I secured a mortgage and made the full down payment, the owners could still receive a higher bid, though I had the right to match it—it’s written into their contract with me. But I didn’t really think someone would come along and offer to pay in cash—never mind my ex-fiancé!” she finished, enraged.

      Dan blinked. “Your ex-fiancé just bought the orchard out from under you?”

      Emily clamped her arms in front of her, the action delineating the fullness of her breasts. “He outbid me by ten percent.”

      Dan studied her defensive posture. “You can’t match his bid?”

      “Unfortunately, no.” Emily moved away from the van and began to pace, her hips moving provocatively beneath the loose-fitting black trousers. “I was stretching it as it was.”

      Silence fell between them.

      Clearly still struggling to get her emotions under control, Emily rubbed at the bridge of her nose. “The good news is since my contract with the owner is now null and void, I’ll get my earnest money back, but I’m out an orchard and a mortgage application fee.”

      Dan held her gaze. “Why would he do that?”

      Emily threw up her hands. “I don’t know. I haven’t seen Tex Ostrander since we broke up, and that was ten years ago.”

      “He knew you were buying the place?” Dan prodded, remembering how soft and silky her hands felt, despite the fact she worked with them all day.

      Emily scowled and gave Dan a measuring glance. “Apparently his parents are retiring and he’s decided to buy them out and move back to the area, too. If he owns both properties—the two orchards are located side by side—he’ll have the biggest peach crop in the area.”

      And that was saying something, Dan knew, since Fredericksburg, Texas, was famous for its stellar peach crop.

      Dan closed the distance between them. “So what does this mean about your move back to the area where you grew up?”

      “I don’t know.” Emily exhaled in frustration. “My Realtor said I’m still approved for a mortgage and the bank has agreed to transfer that approval to another property.”

      Dan hated to see anyone lose out on a dream—particularly a deeply held one. “Maybe you could purchase another orchard,” he suggested kindly.

      Her lips parted as she looked up at him. “There aren’t any other orchards for sale in the area, and besides, I didn’t want any of those—I wanted the one my parents owned when I grew up.” She kicked at the concrete drive with the toe of her boot, and Dan tried not to notice how nice she looked in profile. “I had plans to bring it back to its former glory. To…Well, never mind. It’s not going to happen now.” Her voice rang with disappointment. She fell silent, a morose expression on her face.

      Wishing he had a way to comfort her, Dan asked, “So what now?”

      Emily sighed. “It puts my plans to leave Fort Worth on hold for now. Which really sucks. Because it’s the holidays, and thinking I’d be in the hill country, I turned down all these gigs I could have had.”

      Dan knew that catering businesses thrived during the holiday season. “There’s still one you could have,” he said. He resisted the urge to take her hand in both of his. “And I promise you, it will pay better than you ever dreamed.”

      

      “YOU OFFERED HER A JOB, just like that?” Walt said later that same evening when Dan filled him in on what had transpired. “Without doing a background check and getting references?”

      Dan loved his ex-wife’s uncle. He’d been a lifesaver the past couple years—but sometimes his negativity rankled. “Stop thinking like a private investigator.”

      Walt looked up from the game of Internet chess he was playing. “I’m the first to admit that the meal she made was wonderful. But we’re talking about your kids here. Your home.”

      Dan frowned at the thought of any delay in getting things back on track at mealtime. “She was great with the kids.”

      As by the book as ever, Walt countered, “At least have her fill out an application—and let me talk to some of the people she’s worked for in the past.”

      “First of all, Grady’s wife has already vouched for her character. Apparently Emily has regularly catered events for the company where Alexis works. Her terrific performance is what led Grady to hire Emily for the lunch yesterday. Second, I don’t think Emily has done a job like this before.”

      “The