over to where father and daughter stood.
Ignoring John, she looked down at the child standing silently at his side. She smiled her most reassuring smile and waited.
There was a brief silence. Then, with an abruptness she pretended not to notice, John said gruffly, “This is my daughter, Lissy.” He touched his hand to the child’s shoulder. “Lissy, say hello to Miss Chandler.”
The little girl looked soberly up at her. “Hello.”
“I’m so glad to finally meet you, Lissy,” she said warmly. “You can call me Eve, okay?”
The child hesitated, then nodded.
Eve’s smile softened. Gently, she reached out and gave Lissy’s shoulder a reassuring squeeze. “Good. I just know we’re going to be friends.”
For a second the child appeared startled. “You do?”
Eve nodded. “Uh-huh. And that’s good because I could use a new friend.”
“Oh.” Lissy hesitated. Her big blue eyes seemed to search Eve’s face, and then an uncertain smile trembled across her mouth. “Me, too.”
In that moment, Eve lost her heart.
John’s house was beautiful as well as functional.
Designed to conform to the surrounding land, the spacious, sprawling, single-story structure was shaped like a trio of rectangles stacked in a sideways stair step. The first block contained the mudroom, which Eve had already seen, and an airy, modern kitchen. A granite-topped eating bar angled along its far side and was open to the second, largest block, which held John’s study and a great room. The third block housed the sleeping quarters, with the master bed and bath occupying half the space, three smaller bedrooms and two bathrooms sharing the rest.
Standing in the great room, midway between the kitchen, dining and living areas, Eve admired the huge stone fireplace and the open beams that arched across the vaulted ceiling. The far end of the room jutted out like the bow of a ship and was ribbed with tall windows, so that it seemed to blend with the vast sweep of land and sky outside. The effect was expansive and restful, a feeling echoed by the furniture that was simply but beautifully done using warm woods and soft fabrics in shades of camel, taupe, sand and blue.
“This is wonderful,” she said sincerely as John appeared from delivering the last of her things to her room.
He shrugged. “It’ll do.”
Their gazes met. To her dismay, although he looked about as friendly as an iceberg, she felt a subtle but unrelenting tug of attraction similar to an ocean undertow.
“Where’s Lissy?” he said abruptly.
“She went to change her clothes.”
“Ah.” He considered her for a moment, then headed for the kitchen. “There are some things we need to go over.”
“All right.” She turned as he walked past her and followed him as far as the eating bar.
Opening the door to the walk-in pantry, he took a set of keys off a hook on the wall. He shut the door, walked over and slid them across the counter to her. “I had the ranch Jeep brought in for you. It’s not much to look at, but the engine and the tires are sound and the gas tank’s full.”
“Thank you.”
A faint, slightly cynical smile touched his mouth. “Trust me, it’s no Mercedes, princess. But it’s safe and it’ll get you and Lissy where you need to go.”
She inclined her head, since there didn’t seem to be anything to say to that.
“We can go over the school bus schedule and any questions you have later. Right now, all you need to know is that the freezer here is fully stocked—” he touched the stainless-steel front of the Sub-Zero next to the matching refrigerator “—and that I’d like to eat by six.”
Before Eve could respond, the sound came of somebody knocking at the back door. John strode over to look into the mudroom, then turned back to her. “Sorry,” he said, not sounding sorry at all. “That’s my foreman. I’d better go see what he wants.”
“No problem.” She watched him walk away—until it dawned on her that she was admiring the way his jeans clung to his narrow hips and long legs.
Heat climbed into her cheeks. She turned away, wondering a little wildly what it was going to take to dim her awareness of him, only to realize she was pretty sure she wouldn’t like the answer.
Irritated with herself, she set off to find Lissy, determined to put John, and her unfortunate reaction to him, out of her mind. Walking quickly down the hallway that fronted the bedrooms, she stopped at what she hoped was the correct door and glanced in.
Like her own room, this one was bright and spacious, with a large closet on one wall and a trio of arch-top windows opposite the door. Yet except for a battered stuffed rabbit propped on the bed, it also felt rather impersonal, like a nicely appointed hotel room. While the carved oak dresser, highboy and double bed with its blue, beige and white bedspread were lovely, they seemed far too old for a seven-year-old.
She spotted her charge lying on her stomach on a blue-and-white braided rug beneath the windows. Several sheets of paper were spread out around her, and a big box of crayons was tipped on its side by her right hand.
Eve knocked, staying put until the child looked up. “Hi. Can I come in?”
Lissy nodded and scrambled into a sitting position.
“What are you up to? Coloring?”
The child nodded again, her face registering nearcomical surprise when Eve crossed the rug and sank onto the floor beside her.
“Is it all right for me to look?”
The little girl dropped her gaze, suddenly shy. “Okay.”
Eve studied the drawings spread out before her. One was of a tall man with dark hair—clearly John—who stood so much larger than life that he dwarfed the mountain behind him. Another was of an eagle soaring across the sky. And the third, the one that Lissy was obviously working on now, was of a house at night, bright yellow light pouring from the windows beneath a star-spangled sky. Tellingly, there was a dark-haired man framed in one window and a little blond girl in another, both quite alone.
Eve’s heart clenched, even as she managed a cheery smile. “These are lovely. Did you know, my friend Chrissy is the sister of your teacher, Miss Abrams?”
“She is?”
“Uh-huh. And I understand that Miss Abrams thinks you’re one of the very best artists in her class. I can see why. You draw wonderful pictures.”
“Oh.” The little girl’s face filled with surprised pleasure. “I like to color.” She glanced down self-consciously at her lap.
Eve considered that small, bowed head. In addition to her comments about the child’s artistic talent, Pam Abrams had also reportedly said that John’s daughter could use a woman in her life. At the time, Eve had just assumed—foolishly, she now admitted—that
