Logan laughed. “It is kind of important.”
“Daddy, you should have tea with us. It’s only pretend, but Abigail and Hattie are too full to eat so they’ll share with you.” Her little face took on an earnest, pleading expression.
“Oh, honey, it looks like fun but—” He sighed “—I came up here because I have to eat lunch and then get back to work.”
“But it’s too early,” she said.
“Not for me. I’ve been working since before the sun came up.”
“While I was still sleepin’?”
He knelt on one knee beside her. “That’s right.”
“You must be tired. And really hungry,” she said thoughtfully. “I have an idea.”
“Oh?”
The tone was cautious, uneasy, and the look on his face said he’d rather walk barefoot on boulders than hear what his daughter was going to suggest.
“You should bring your lunch outside and we’ll keep you company. Me and Abigail and Hattie and Grace.”
Grace watched his reaction closely and couldn’t quite put it in the fear category, but there was a definite dash of discomfort there.
“I sure wish I could, honey. But I have a busy afternoon and I need to eat quick.”
“But, Daddy, it won’t take that long.”
“Maybe next time.”
“Ookay.” There was disappointment in her voice along with a measure of acceptance, as if the suggestion had been a long shot in the first place. Clearly she’d been turned down before.
“I’m really sorry.” He held out his arms and without hesitation the little girl stood and moved into them, sliding her arms around his neck.
When his hold slackened, Cassie stepped away and looked at him a little sadly. “When I hug you, you always let go first.”
“Do I?”
Grace didn’t believe Cassie intended to hurt his feelings, but the words had sliced into him and hit their mark. It was clear by the tortured look in his eyes.
She really felt his pain and wanted so badly to say that five or ten minutes wouldn’t make a difference to the horses and cows but could mean everything to his child. She opened her mouth, and he happened to be looking right at her.
A muscle jerked in his jaw. “Something on your mind?”
Just in time, she closed off the words and shook her head.
“Okay, then.” He smiled at Cassie. “I’ll see you tonight.”
“Okay.” She watched wistfully as he disappeared inside. “Mommy says the very best hugs are the ‘never let go’ kind.”
“I know what she means, sweetie.” And that’s all she could say really.
Because it wasn’t in her job description to comment on the father/daughter relationship, no matter how much she was tempted.
* * *
Logan was pretty sure Grace thought he was the lowest life-form on the planet for not joining the tea party yesterday. She’d almost said something but then checked the words, and he was glad she’d kept them to herself. Except he hadn’t been able to get her disapproving look out of his mind. She wasn’t very good at hiding her feelings, but he had his reasons—and they were good ones.
He’d been a kid living in a car with his younger siblings when he figured out that behind his mother’s optimistic mask was fear. And that was his father’s fault. No, he knew Grace’s opinion of him ranged somewhere between snake and slimy single-cell organism. He’d had a dream last night and no expert was needed to analyze it. She’d pointed an accusing finger at him and before she could tell him he was a terrible father, he kissed her. That woke him up, and from then on it wasn’t a restful sleep, which made a man crabby, short-tempered and careless.
He was in the barn repairing tack when he heard the sound of female voices just outside. One was Cassie’s. The other was sexy and sweet, and he knew it belonged to Grace. Then his stomach clenched. Something was wrong or they wouldn’t be here.
He left the little room where tack was stored and hurried to meet them in the hay-scattered main aisle that separated the rows of horse stalls. “What’s going on?”
Grace frowned at his tone, but Cassie seemed unfazed. She ran up to him, her eyes bright with excitement.
“Hi, Daddy!” She was dressed in denim shorts and a pink T-shirt. Her hair was in some complicated weave. “Grace French-braided my hair. Isn’t it pretty?”
“Beautiful.” He looked at the woman standing beside the little girl and could have said the same thing. Her hair was pulled up in a sassy ponytail that brushed the shoulder of her skinny-strap shirt. Her shorts were black and revealed smooth, tanned skin that made his stomach clench again, for a very different reason. Beautiful.
“I was tellin’ Grace about the cats and goats, so we came to see ’em.” She ran past him and peeked into each of the empty stalls.
“Be careful,” he said.
“I will.”
He followed her and watched as she inspected every corner of the barn without success.
“Snowflake must be outside. I’m gonna go look,” she said, then raced toward the wide opening and disappeared.
“Cassie—” Either she didn’t hear or chose to ignore him. “I’m going after her.”
“I’ll go, but could you tag along? I’d like to speak with you about something.”
“Okay.” They walked to the open barn door and he saw his daughter looking around a bale of hay.
“She’s just exploring. This won’t take long, Logan. Promise.”
“She needs eyes on her.” The knot in his stomach tightened.
“Agreed. But this is a ranch, not a razor blade factory.” Grace’s mouth pulled tight for a moment and there was stubbornness in her expression, a clue that she wasn’t going to back off on this. “Please, talk to me. I have some questions and need clarification.”
He met her gaze and mentally braced himself. “Okay.”
“Good.” Her smile was polite, but something simmered beneath it. She looked at his daughter as she said, “For starters, I need to know what is and isn’t okay to do with Cassie.”
“That’s your job. To know how to take care of her. It’s why I hired you. For your judgment.”
“That’s what I thought, too.” Flecks of gold were scattered in her hazel eyes and started to glow, the only hint they might shoot
