been so angry with them for withholding information of Diane’s death. For keeping his son from him.
“Would you like to go outside with me? You can take Mr. Tiger with you, if you like,” her voice continued, low, calm and soothing.
There was something about the way Lilian spoke that reminded Oliver of Shannon. An intonation. Or a certain cadence in her speech. Not an accent, though the woman certainly sounded American. He finally concluded it was the warmth that wove through each word like a wool scarf on a foggy morning.
Whatever the reason, Ollie responded the same way to Lilian as he had to Shannon. Instantly and with no hesitation.
Lilian took his hand in hers. The two made it all the way to the door leading outside before they turned back. “Say, ‘Bye-bye, Daddy. See you soon.’”
She demonstrated a wave for the child.
“Bye-bye,” Ollie said in his high-pitched, sweet baby voice. “See you soon.”
Oliver smiled, even though he noticed Ollie didn’t call him “Daddy.” He never did. Of course his vocabulary was rather limited, consisting of only twenty-five words. Still, if Ollie could say the dog’s name, shouldn’t he be able to say “Daddy”?
Once the back door banged shut, Oliver decided to get right to the point. “I suppose you’re wondering why I’m here.”
Shep lifted his piece of bread. “I figure you’re fixin’ to tell me.”
The older man bit into the bread, then washed the piece down with a swig of coffee. He leaned back in his chair and studied Oliver intently.
For a second Oliver felt like one of those young lads in films, meeting his girl’s parents for the first time. Oliver had no personal experience in this arena. He’d been sent to a preparatory school when he was thirteen. Functions with suitable girls’ schools had been prearranged. No parents involved.
“Your daughter has agreed to be Ollie’s nanny while I’m in Horseback Hollow.”
“She mentioned something about that the other night,” Shep admitted.
Oliver felt a surprising surge of relief. “Then you don’t have a problem with her moving in.”
The mug of coffee Shep had lifted to his mouth froze in midair. He lowered it slowly until it came to rest on the table.
Unlike his daughter’s, Shep’s eyes were a piercing pale blue. Oliver felt the full force of his gaze punch into him.
“Move in. With you?”
“Not with me,” Oliver clarified, keeping his tone conversational. “Into the house.”
“Your house.”
“Technically your house,” Oliver pointed out.
“Don’t give me any double-talk, boy.” Shep’s eyes narrowed and Oliver felt as if he were in the crosshairs of his father’s foul temper once again.
Though Rhys Henry Hayes hadn’t remained married to Josephine for long, it had been long enough for them to have two sons together, and for his father to make Oliver’s life a living hell.
“Shannon will always be treated with respect when she’s under my roof.” Oliver met Shep’s gaze with a calm one of his own.
As a young boy, Oliver had vowed he’d never be intimidated by any man ever again. “That’s why I’m here. To let you know she will be my son’s nanny. My employee. Nothing more. She’s safe with me.”
Shep’s expression gave nothing away. He took a big gulp of coffee before he responded. “Shannon is twenty-five. As much as I’d like to, I can’t make her decisions. But I will speak bluntly.”
“Please do,” Oliver said quietly.
“After what happened in Lubbock, after that incident, I don’t feel comfortable with her being there with only a baby in diapers as a chaperone.”
Oliver cocked his head. “What incident in Lubbock?”
“Oliver.”
Shannon paused in the doorway, taking in the cozy scene with her father and Oliver at the table. She let her gaze sweep over the half-eaten pieces of banana bread and coffee mugs in need of refills.
“Your father was about to tell me about some incident in Lubbock,” Oliver told her.
* * *
Despite telling herself not to react, Shannon felt her spine grow rigid, vertebra by vertebra. She shot her father a fulminating glance that, as usual, he ignored.
“Correct me if I’m wrong, but I believe that’s my story to tell. Or not.” Forcing a smile, Shannon shifted her attention back to Oliver. “It’s not all that interesting. I had a boss who got a little handsy. It’s over and done. I’ve moved on.”
The back door clattered and seconds later, her mother strode into the room, Ollie chattering happily at her side. “Shannon, honey. When did you get home?”
“Just walked through the door,” Shannon answered absently, her mind back in Lubbock. She didn’t like thinking of that time. It was in the past and she meant what she’d said to Oliver—she’d moved on. “Do you have any more banana bread?”
“It’ll spoil your appetite for lunch,” her father warned.
Some things never change, Shannon thought ruefully. But instead of being irritated, she found the knowledge strangely reassuring.
“You’re eating it,” she pointed out. “Won’t it spoil your lunch?”
“Nope.” Shep grinned and popped the last bite into his mouth.
Shannon rolled her eyes. “Oh, honestly.”
Oliver’s gaze traveled between her and her father, as if he found their simple exchange fascinating.
Out of the corner of her eye, Shannon saw Ollie run across the room to Oliver. He swung the child onto his lap with a welcoming smile.
Shannon’s heart swelled. How could she have ever thought this man didn’t care about his son?
“I hope the bread didn’t spoil your appetite, Oliver. I’d love to have you join us for lunch.” Lilian wrapped the rest of the loaf in plastic wrap. “We’re having quiche.”
Shep grimaced. “Aw, Lil, why not burgers?”
“Too much red meat isn’t good for you.” Lilian’s argument was an old one, repeated daily. She shifted to Oliver. “We’re also having a nice salad of dark greens with a balsamic vinaigrette I make myself.”
“What happened to the good ole days of iceberg and Thousand Island?” Shep groused.
Lilian ignored the comment to focus on their guest. “If you don’t think Ollie would like quiche, I can rustle him up some mac and cheese.”
Shannon
