the coffee made, Susannah decided she’d better check on the gamers in the room at the far end of the hall. Since Amber hadn’t wandered off seeking new entertainment, Susannah expected to find them still absorbed in the colors of Candyland.
Her heartbeat quickened as she approached the doorway, which was ridiculous. Nothing had happened to make her nervous. She drew a deep breath and relaxed her clenched fingers. Maybe she’d indulged in too much coffee today.
When she stepped into the room, she was surprised to find the game abandoned on the bed. Wyatt sat at his desk, with Amber on the floor beside his chair, her box of crayons and what seemed to be a ream of paper spread around her.
Amber glanced up as Susannah stood staring. “I’m drawing, Mommy.” The page she held featured one diagonal blue line. “See?”
“That’s...um...wonderful, honey.” As far as she could tell, all the papers showed just one or two marks, on only one side. “You’re making a lot of pictures, aren’t you?”
Wyatt swiveled his chair around to face her. “She won two games,” he said. When Susannah frowned in doubt, he held up a hand. “Fair and square. Then she wanted to use her crayons, so I gave her some paper.” He glanced down at Amber, and his usually solemn expression softened into a smile. “She’s having a good time.”
“So I see.” Flustered by his smile, Susannah hunkered down beside her daughter and gathered together the drawings. “You could put a picture on both sides, Amber. Can you do that?”
“Don’t want to.” Amber pulled open the bottom drawer of the desk and brought out more sheets. “I like it this way.”
“I don’t mind,” Wyatt said. “As long as she’s happy.”
“She’s making a mess and wasting supplies. And trees.” Aware of how bitchy that sounded, Susannah stacked the pages and flipped them over, blank side up. “Draw on these, Amber. You don’t want to use up all of Mr. Wyatt’s paper.”
Lower lip stuck out and eyes wide, Amber clutched the blank pages to her chest. “No.”
Great. An argument, in front of Wyatt. Susannah kept her voice gentle. “You have plenty, sweetie. Leave the rest alone.”
“I want more.” In a quick move, she scattered the pages she was holding, turned to the open drawer and reached inside. “More!”
Face flaming, Susannah straightened up. “I’m sorry,” she said, not meeting Wyatt’s eyes. “You’ve been very good to play with her, but I think a break is in order.” She picked up her wailing-and-kicking daughter by the waist. “I’ll deal with this chaos in a few minutes.”
“I can get—” he started, but stopped. “No, I can’t,” he said gruffly. “Damn this brace, anyway.”
Having ruined a perfectly peaceful scene for her daughter and for him, Susannah took Amber to the room they shared and shut the door. A few minutes of sobs and sniffles followed, during a heart-to-heart talk about listening to Mommy, before her little girl fell asleep with the tears still drying on her face. Some days, a grown-up five-year-old still needed a nap.
Now she had to go back and face Wyatt while she restored order to his office. He kept his life organized, she’d discovered since she’d been here. Much of her cleaning had been out of a sense of duty more than actual necessity because the house was amazingly tidy, especially considering bachelors lived there. Despite what he’d said, having the floor carpeted with childish scribblings had probably driven him crazy. Susannah knew she shouldn’t have allowed her daughter to demand so much of his time. She’d make sure she kept closer tabs on Amber in the future.
In the next few days, that resolution proved much easier to make than to keep. Whenever Amber’s bright voice had gone quiet, Susannah would discover her playing with Wyatt. She found them in the living room one afternoon, where Wyatt sat in the rocking chair with the baby doll, wrapped in a bath towel, resting on his shoulder. Amber stood beside him, patting the baby’s shoulder as he moved back and forth.
“What are you doing?” had become her standard question.
“Shh!” Amber put a finger to her lips. “Baby is sick. Her daddy is rocking her to make her feel better.”
“Ah.” She kept her voice down. “And who are you?”
“I’m the sister. He’s my daddy, too.”
Struck to the heart, Susannah found her gaze locked with Wyatt’s, but she couldn’t read his expression. In desperation, she put a hand on Amber’s shoulder.
“Sweetie, maybe the baby wants a drink of water. Why don’t you go get her bottle from the bedroom?”
“Okay.”
“I’m sorry,” Susannah said as soon as Amber was gone. “I can’t imagine where she comes up with these ideas.”
“I expect you hold her when she’s sick and that comforts her.” The doll still rested on his shoulder. “Good parents do those things for their kids. And you’re a very good parent.”
“But I’m sorry you’re getting caught up in her silly games. Really, you don’t have to—”
“Susannah.” His firm tone halted the frenzy of her speech. “You’ve said ‘I’m sorry’ twice in the last two minutes. Seems we never have a conversation lately without you saying ‘I’m sorry.’”
She opened her mouth but couldn’t think of anything that wasn’t an apology, so she closed it again.
“Don’t worry so much. Not about me.” He glanced down at the doll and smiled. “I enjoy playing with Amber, seeing how a little girl’s mind works. I’m not doing anything I don’t want to do.”
“If you’re sure...”
“I’m sure you can stop apologizing. You and your kids are not a burden and you’re not intruding. Just make yourself at home. Settle in. Or else I’m going to get mad.” He sent her a wink. “You wouldn’t like me when I’m mad.”
* * *
EVEN AS THE words left his mouth, Wyatt realized his mistake.
“I’m so sorry.” His turn to apologize. “That was a stupid thing to say. It’s a joke between my brothers and me—from an old TV show.”
To his great surprise, she laughed. “I know. I watched The Incredible Hulk reruns when I was a kid. I loved how he grew all big and green and furious.”
Despite her good humor, his guilt persisted. “I didn’t intend to threaten you.” He considered the phrase again. “Although that’s exactly the way it sounded.”
“You were teasing, Wyatt. I got that.” Her smile faded. “Travis doesn’t threaten. He just...explodes.”
“I hate reminding you of him.” And hated remembering his own dad’s hair-trigger temper.
“It’s not as if I ever really forget.” She drew a deep breath and then made an obvious effort to improve the mood. “You seem pretty experienced at holding babies. Did you spend a lot of time
