The Cowboy's Valentine. Donna Alward

felt guilty for putting his little girl in the middle, but Amber was very hard to resist. Couldn’t he see how happy his daughter looked right now?

      “Amber, why don’t you set the table? Do you know where everything is?” she asked, breaking the connection.

      Amber nodded and raced for a step stool that allowed her to reach the plates and glasses in the cupboard. Lacey turned the chicken in the pan, putting the splatter screen over the top again to keep the grease from dotting the top of the stove. She heard Quinn behind her, helping Amber put things on the table in preparation for the meal.

      It felt homey. It felt...like everything Lacey was sure she’d been missing. Only this wasn’t her family. Not her husband, not her daughter, not her home. It was just pretend. Something to make her feel better, to fill the gap until she got her life in order again.

      And if now and again it gave Quinn a hand, all the better.

      When had she started caring?

      The chicken was perfectly done and she removed it from the pan and put it on a platter. The salad was placed in the middle of the table, and she added a sprinkle of paprika for color, then put the bowl of corn on a hot mat and stirred in just a little bit of butter. “There,” she said, stepping back. “All done. Let’s eat.”

      She took the spot at the foot of the table while Quinn sat at the head, where he normally ate his lunch, and Amber was in between them on the side. Lacey watched as Quinn helped Amber put salad, corn and cucumbers on her plate, and then chose a drumstick for her to eat. Her eyes were huge as she looked at all the food and then, just as Lacey was about to taste her first bite of potato salad, Amber dropped her fork with a clatter.

      “Daddy! We forgot to say grace!”

      He put down his fork. “So we did.”

      Amber turned her face to Lacey. “Do you want to say it, Lacey?”

      Lacey struggled to answer. Grace was not really her thing. They’d never said it at home at mealtime and she wasn’t quite comfortable right now, being put on the spot.

      “Why don’t you say it, sweetie?” Quinn came to the rescue and made the suggestion.

      “Okay.” When Lacey sat still, Amber held out her hand. “We hold hands, like this,” she said, wiggling her fingers.

      Hesitantly Lacey took the little fingers in her own, and watched as Quinn held Amber’s other hand. Her heart melted a little bit as Amber’s eyes squinted shut.

      Lacey was expecting a scripted blessing, sort of the “God is great, God is good” thing she remembered from vacation Bible school when she’d spent time here at Crooked Valley when she was little. But instead, Amber took a few seconds to think before she offered up a simple prayer.

      “Dear God, thank you for fried chicken and ’tato salad and for my daddy and for my friend Lacey. Amen.”

      When she was done she dropped their hands, picked up her drumstick and took a bite, utterly unconcerned.

      But Lacey met Quinn’s gaze and saw something there she wasn’t prepared for. She saw beyond the ranch manager and her biggest critic and the single dad to the man beneath.

      And that man made her catch her breath.