“Are you willing to try it?”
Abby considered the question, wondering where she would find the courage to deal with Granger the Grump twice in one week.
“All right, I’ll do it. And this time, I’ll be absolutely logical and businesslike, if it kills me.”
Abby glanced at Kitty again. She was a beautiful child with fine, shiny black hair no ponytail holder could contain for long, sad brown eyes, an adorable little nose and a sweet bow mouth that rarely smiled. “She’s the sweetest little girl in the world, and I can’t stand seeing her look so lost and alone all the time.”
“She’s his daughter, Ab.”
Abby stiffened. “I’m not likely to forget that. But what kind of a father can’t see what’s happening to his own child?”
“Don’t be so judgmental,” Erin scolded her. “He’s probably struggling to get through one day at a time, like most other single parents. He still may be suffering with his own grief. Or he may be in denial. None of which makes him a bad father.”
Sniffing, Abby crossed her arms over her breasts. “Well, there is no way I’m going to back off and let him ruin that child.”
Erin pinned her with a stare. “I thought you weren’t going to get involved with your students anymore.”
“I’m not.”
“Then who was that warrior-woman I just heard? Mighty defender of the girl-child and all that?”
Abby turned her head away. “You imagined her.”
“If it looks like a duck and it quacks like a duck…” Erin uttered a wry laugh. “I think maybe we should reconsider the idea of your going to his house.”
“Don’t be such a worrywart.” Abby smiled and squeezed Erin’s arm again. “I’m just going to convince Mr. Granger to hire you as Kitty’s therapist. You’ll take wonderful care of her, and I’ll be able to leave Spokane knowing she’s going to be all right.”
“And you’ll stop at recommending me? You promise you won’t get any more involved with the Grangers than that?”
“It depends on Mr. Granger and Kitty.”
Erin shot her a worried look. “Abby—”
Abby let out an exasperated huff. “Trust me, there’s no danger of starting a personal relationship that could become a problem later. I’m a professional. I know what I’m doing.”
Chapter Two
Can’t you see that your child is suffering?
“No, she’s not,” Jack muttered as he drove home on Friday night. He knew about suffering from first-hand experience. Kitty had suffered the most when she’d been in therapy before, dammit, but Ms. Walsh didn’t understand that. Or maybe she just didn’t want to believe it.
Wishing he could strangle someone, he tightened his fingers around the steering wheel until his knuckles hurt. He’d gone over his meeting with Ms. Walsh in his mind a hundred times since yesterday, but her words continued to haunt him.
And you’re just letting it go on and on.
“Oh, you’re so damn smug,” he said. “You weren’t there. You don’t know what she went through.”
She deserves better from you than you’re giving her.
“Yeah, well, so what else is new? I’m doing the best I can, but it’ll never be enough. It’ll never be as good as what Gina could’ve done for her, either. And there’s not much I can do about that, is there?”
He crossed the Little Spokane River and pulled into his long, gravel driveway, a sense of inadequacy chomping at his insides in spite of all his muttering. Parking beside the 1940s farmhouse he and Gina had started to remodel, he got out of the car and stood there for a moment, waiting for the inevitable pang of loss and loneliness to ease. God, he still missed her, for his own sake as well as his daughter’s.
Gina had been more than a wife to him. She’d been his soul mate. They’d been high school sweethearts, they’d given their virginity to each other. He’d never been with another woman, had never wanted anyone else.
He knew it was time now to move on. Knew that Gina wouldn’t want or expect him to spend the rest of his life alone. But it was hard.
He told himself to stop wallowing in his grief and think about something else. Surveying his property, he grimaced at what he saw. There was still so much to be done. But between his job and taking care of Kitty, he never had any time to start a home-improvement project, much less finish one.
The back door banged open and Millie Patten, his housekeeper and baby-sitter, stepped out onto the stoop, propping her hands on her ample hips. Jack took one look at her disappointed expression and bit back a curse. Great. Just what he needed—another dose of guilt.
Millie was a sweet, hardworking woman. She reminded him of a grandmother or a great-aunt who loves you without reservation, but at the same time feels compelled to “help” you correct all your major and minor faults. It was all done with the best of intentions and in the most loving possible way, of course. Loving, like a defense lawyer on a crusade.
“Oh, Jack.” she said, drawing out each syllable in a soft tone that made him feel ten times worse than a scolding one would have. “Do you have any idea what time it is, dear?”
Sometimes the woman drove him nuts with her unsolicited advice, but her job had been damn hard to fill. Unlike too many of her predecessors, she was competent and reliable, and she dearly loved Kitty. That was all that really mattered.
“Sorry, Millie,” he said. “I’ll do better next week.”
“That’s what you always say,” she replied. “But you’re still late nearly every night, and it isn’t right.”
“Well, at least I’m good for the overtime.”
She sadly shook her head at him. “That’s not the point, dear. You need to spend more time with Kitty. And you need to stop burying yourself in work and get a social life of your own.”
Jack approached her, the fingers of his left hand locked around the handle of his briefcase in a punishing grip. “If I had a social life, I wouldn’t be able to spend as much time with Kitty as I do now.”
“At least you’d have some hope of finding her a mother.”
“Millie, please. I appreciate your concern, but you’ll just have to let me worry about that. All right?”
She turned on the run-down heel of the athletic shoes she always wore and marched back into the house. Jack followed her inside, calculated what he owed her for the week and handed her a check. “I’ll see you Monday morning.”
“All right. But do try to play with Kitty this weekend. She needs your attention.”
He shut the door behind her and jabbed one hand through his hair in frustration. Jeez. Did she really think he intended to
