A Cowboy's Touch (23 page)

“Well, she ain’t really workin’,” Abigail said in her best Texas drawl.

Wade smirked. “Kick a man while he’s down, why don’t you.”

Abigail’s stomach let out a ferocious growl, and she crossed her arms over her middle.

“That your stomach?”

“Forgot dinner.”

“Want to stop somewhere?”

She shrugged. “I’ll just grab something at the house.”

“Suit yourself.”

When they pulled up to the house, Abigail was struck by how dark and vacant it looked. Not even the porch light on. They’d be all alone in that house all night for the first time. If she had trouble maintaining a professional distance with Maddy around, how was she going to manage when they were alone?

It’s an opportunity
, she told herself. She could get to know Wade better without letting him in any further. Besides, it was late. Must be after ten by now, and Wade rose early to tend to the animals.

“What about Dylan’s truck?”

“I’ll pick him up for church in the morning.”

Wade opened the front door and let her by. Abigail flipped on the lamp, set down her things, and headed straight for the kitchen. She opened the pantry and paused in front of the half-empty shelves, then heard Wade’s footsteps following her into the kitchen.

23

W
ade opened the fridge door, feeling guilty about the paltry selection. “Guess Greta needs to hit the market.”

“It is kind of sparse.” Abigail reached into the pantry. “I’ll have some peanuts.”

“We’ve got eggs and stuff. I could make an omelet. I skipped dinner too.”

“You cook?”

“Cowboys have many hidden talents.” Omelets were the only thing he cooked, but she didn’t have to know that.

Abigail set the table while Wade cracked the eggs into a bowl, adding cheese and ham. The quiet of the house without Maddy rang in his ears. A cozy supper with Abigail was the last thing he needed. What was he doing? It was hard enough to keep his distance as it was.

When the omelet was finished, he served it and sat across from Abigail. She’d taken Maddy’s usual spot across from him, which put more distance between them. Fine by him.

After a silent prayer, he dug in. He thought of his daughter and hoped she’d be okay at her friend’s all night.

“I wonder what Maddy’s doing.” Abigail scooped egg onto her fork. “Has she spent the night away before?”

“No. Was wondering the same thing.”

“Eggs are good.” Abigail saluted him with her empty fork. “The girls are probably having so much fun, she won’t think twice about being away.”

“Probably.” He’d slept over at Dylan’s many times by age eleven. They used to practice their roping, sometimes on Dylan’s dog, Moe. When they tired of that, they amused themselves by putting frogs in Dylan’s sister’s bed or sneaking matches from the kitchen and starting fires behind the barn. He wondered what kind of mischief two little girls could make. He should’ve spoken with Shay personally. He hoped she was keeping an eye on them.

“What’s that face for?”

“Remembering the antics me and Dylan used to pull at her age.”

“And hoping Maddy isn’t doing the same?”

“Maybe.”

“Girls aren’t as mischievous as boys, in general. They’re probably doing each other’s nails and soaking their feet.”

“Soaking their feet?”

“Pedicures, silly.”

He wasn’t even sure what that was. Boy, did he have a lot to learn. “Maddy’s never painted her nails.” At least, he didn’t think so. Would he have even noticed? “Hope that’s all she’s doing.”

“Can’t keep her on a leash, you know. Kids need a little space. Besides, you survived your childhood antics.”

“As did you.”

Abigail smiled, and Wade was struck by her beauty. So much for sitting across from her.

“Manicures and bead-making can hardly be counted as antics.” Her smile slid slowly from her face, then she took a bite of omelet, her eyes taking on a faraway look.

Wade wondered if she was thinking of her friend, the one who’d been abused by her father. He was sorry he’d mentioned it.

“She’ll probably stay up all night and sleep all day tomorrow,” Wade said.

“Probably. Guess you’re in for a quiet day.”

“Have to work on the truck anyway.”

“You’ll fix it yourself?”

“Me and Dylan.” Wade was good with the basics, but Dylan had never met a mechanical problem he couldn’t fix. Saved Wade loads in repair bills over the years.

“He’ll probably give you the same advice I did.”

That he should sell his truck? Never. “He knows better.”

“What is it with men and their trucks anyway?” Her green eyes twinkled.

Her teasing boosted his spirits, and he told himself it was just the pleasure of friendship. “We get attached. Perfectly normal.”

“It’s a chunk of steel. Well, steel and rust, in your case.”

“Hey . . . below the belt.”

Abigail shrugged. “Call it like I see it.” Her full smile was dazzling. There was no other word for it. Wade couldn’t look away if he wanted to. And he didn’t.

“So what else are you attached to?” she asked, her tone light.

“My ranch and my daughter . . . God.” All he needed, right there.

“You never go out on weekends. No woman in the wings? Like Marla from Pappy’s Market? She’s crushing on you, you know. Asks about you every time I’m in.”

Knowing Marla was prying Abigail for information embarrassed him. He wiped his mouth, then sipped his milk, trying to hide his discomfort. “Not seeing anyone at the moment.”

“You’re blushing.”

Daggonit. “Cowboys don’t blush.”

“
Au contraire
.”

She didn’t have to enjoy it so much. “Marla’s not my type.” He couldn’t shift the limelight soon enough. “What about you? Someone waiting for you back in the Windy City?” His intense longing for a negative answer surprised him. Abigail hadn’t mentioned a boyfriend, and she didn’t give off taken vibes, though she had turned down Dylan.

“Not at the moment,” she said after she swallowed. “Haven’t dated seriously since college, but I do date.” She stabbed her empty fork at the air. “What’s your excuse?” That flirtatious smile again.

“I need an excuse?”

“You’re a healthy, virile single man. Do you know your market value out there? It goes up each year, you know. Women get more desperate as the good ones get taken.”

He refused to admit how much that word
virile
pleased him. “You don’t exactly seem on the hunt for a ‘good one.’”

“I’m looking, but I’m picky. Haven’t found one that matches up to my daddy yet. ’Course I may just pick my way into perpetual spinsterhood.”

He smiled. “Can’t see that happening.”

“You didn’t answer my question.” She forked a piece of ham.

“Which was . . . ?”

“Why don’t you date? Moose Creek is small, but there’s a handful of pretty single women. Or have you dated them all?”

He hadn’t dated any of them, but wasn’t about to admit it. “Too busy with the ranch and Maddy. Relationships take time.”

“The good ones are worth it. Your busy schedule aside, don’t you think Maddy would like a mother?”

He pressed his lips together. Their conversation had taken a bad turn. She was getting personal. He ignored her question and took another gulp of milk instead.

She didn’t take the hint. “You hire people to do the things a mother would do. If you found someone you loved, it would remove a burden, not add to it.”

“You applying for the job?”

Abigail sputtered on a sip of milk.

Look who was blushing now. He probably shouldn’t have said it, but she’d asked for it. He was feeling a little uncomfortable himself after the leading question—what if she said yes?

“No . . .” Abigail said after recovering from her coughing spell. “I am not applying for the job. Sheesh. Clearly a touchy subject.”

“Very discerning.”

She made a face that reminded him of the one Maddy made when she was about to stick out her tongue.

They finished eating in silence, and Wade regretted putting her on the spot. Now things felt awkward. Well, what did he expect? There was enough friction between them to start a forest fire, always had been. From day one, he’d been attracted to her. What did he think he was doing, hiring someone like Abigail to live under the same roof? Like playing with fire. A subject he knew a little about, he thought with a self-deprecating smirk.

At least the night was almost over. They’d go to their separate rooms, and tomorrow Maddy would return and things would go back to normal.

Abigail stood and placed her dishes in the dishwasher. “Thanks for the omelet. It was good.” She rubbed her bare arms.

Probably cold from sitting in his broken-down truck so long. “You can turn up the heat.” Wade stacked his dishes in the dishwasher.

“You don’t mind? Or, hey, how about a fire? I’ve never had a fireplace. On cold Chicago nights I fantasize about curling up in front of a big stone fireplace.”

Wade followed her into the living room, trying to curb his own fantasies, which had nothing to do with a fireplace.

Get a grip, Ryan
. “You’ll be up awhile?”

“Couple hours. I can start it.”

“No offense, Grace, but I want to wake to a standing house.”

She made that face again, but it was starting to grow on him. She could stay up all she wanted. Soon as he got this fire going, he was heading for the hills before he did something stupid. He brought wood in from the pile out back, opened the flue, and started stacking.

“I can’t believe how chilly it gets at night,” she said, settling on the sofa. “Summer nights back home are mild, but it must be in the forties tonight.”

“Temperatures vary more here. It was a change for me too.” One last log, then he’d get this puppy burning and skedaddle.

“You must’ve been a Boy Scout.”

Wade struck a match and lit the newspaper wads on the bottom. “Not even close.” He encouraged the flame with a breath until it caught on a dried twig.

Rising to his feet, he drew the mesh curtains, then set the screen in front of the opening. “Leave the flue open when you go to bed. Just make sure the fire’s died down.”

“Where you going?”

“Bed.”

“Oh.” She sounded disappointed. “I thought we could talk.”

She was curled into the corner of the sofa like a lazy cat, an afghan wrapped around her shoulders. Her beguiling eyes, wide and innocent, tempted him.

Talk about playing with fire. “Have to get up early.”

“I thought you might want to talk about how Maddy’s doing, since she’s not here.”

She knew all his buttons. The fire crackled and popped as the kindling caught fire. “What about her?”

“She’s hitting that, uh, awkward stage. Lots of changes are coming . . . ?”

Son of a gun. His knees gave out and he sank onto the chair. He did not want to go there with Abigail. “Changes?” His voice produced a squeak he hadn’t heard since puberty.

Abigail laughed. “It’s coming soon enough, ready or not. Has anyone had those talks with her?”

He knew he should’ve, but . . . “The school?”

“You can’t leave it up to them. You haven’t addressed the topic?”

He was a bad father. “Not really.” She used to ask him questions about sex, but he’d mostly dodged them.
Not good, Ryan
.

Maddy must’ve given up, because she hadn’t asked any of those questions in a while. Maybe now she was too embarrassed. Abigail was right. The kid was nearing that age. But how awkward would that be? What would Maddy even say if he tried?

“I take it by the terrified look on your face that you wouldn’t mind my addressing such issues with her.”

Whew
. “Be my guest.”

“Happy to be of service.”

When he darted a look her way, the corner of her mouth was tipped up.
Fine, be amused.
She didn’t realize how hard it was being a single dad to a daughter. Harder than it looked. Especially when it came to touchy topics.

“The fire’s nice,” Abigail said. She stared into the glowing grate as if lost in thought. “Reminds me of camping out when I was young.”

“You camped?” He couldn’t picture it.

She tipped her chin over the afghan. “Yes, I camped. Well, only once, but we did have a campfire.”

“What’s wrong, the bears scare you away?”

“Actually, a rainstorm came and flooded our tent. We had to pack up and leave in the middle of the night.”

“Maddy loved camping when she was little. I haven’t taken her since we moved here.”

“You should. She’d enjoy that.”

He really should. In a couple years she probably wouldn’t want anything to do with him.

“Maybe we could all go.”

Trapped in a tent with Abigail all night? He didn’t think so. The thought made him squirm. Even from across the room, the subtle scent of her perfume summoned him.