knew you’d understand,” she said sweetly.
“Who understands? But if that’s what you want—”
“It is,” she said quickly. “Thank you very much for your...patience?” Her expression said something else entirely, something along the lines of you’re not going to bully me, you big oaf. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I have to get in to work.”
“Sure. Don’t let me keep you.”
She turned and he found himself admiring the curve of her hips beneath the denim skirt, the slender legs, the bounce of blond hair. When she’d first moved to town three years ago to take the job at the Review, he’d thought that maybe they might...
But he’d been badly mistaken. Laura Gilliam might look good but she was stand-offish and guarded her privacy too fiercely. So far as Matt knew, she rarely dated, although she was much admired by the half of the population which was male.
Helluva waste.
She disappeared through the door which temporarily connected the new construction with the rest of the house. He heard her call out, “Abby, I’m going back to work now.”
Matt knew that “Abby” was Abby Royce, recent high school graduate who was baby-sitting Laura’s six-year-old son, Zach, for the summer. He heard a further mumble of voices and then the slam of the front door, followed by the sound of her car engine.
Zach came skipping around the side of the already-framed room addition. “Hi, Mr. Reynolds,” he called out, his expression eager as always. “What cha doin’? Can I help?”
Matt grinned. Laura might be a pain in the neck but Zach was a great kid. A great fatherless kid, Matt corrected himself—and it showed. The boy was painfully eager for a man’s company.
“I can always use a good helper.” He waved Zach up beside him. “I was just hoping someone would come along to drive in a nail for me.”
“I can do it!” The earnest, freckled face looked almost ecstatic.
“You know,” Matt said slowly, “I kinda think you can.”
While Zach pounded away, both hands on the hammer, at a nail already started, Matt felt a curious warmth spreading through him. All little boys needed a man around the house. But considering how obstinate this little boy’s mother was, that wasn’t going to happen anytime soon.
Poor kid.
Running up the front steps of the Review, Laura met her boss’s great-granddaughter coming down. Jessica was a real sweetie, unlike her moose of a father.
“Hi, honey,” she greeted the girl. “Drop by to see your grandpa?”
The girl stopped short and her blue eyes widened. “Yes, but don’t tell,” she said quickly.
Peculiar response. “Okay, if you don’t want me to,” Laura promised. Automatically she reached out to brush back brown hair falling across Jessica’s eyes, nearly obscuring her vision. Poor little thing; her hair always looked like a haystack. And it would be so pretty if something were done with it.
The girl looked up with wide eyes. “Does my hair look awful?” she asked anxiously. “I combed it this morning, honest.”
“It looks just fine.” Laura finished smoothing the bangs out of the way. “Your hair is really very pretty.”
“It’s awful!” Jessica batted at it. “I wanted to cut it since second grade but Daddy won’t let me. He likes long hair but it gets in my way all the time.”
“Why don’t you braid it, or wear a ponytail?” Laura suggested; a reasonable solution, she thought.
Jessica’s lower lip thrust out. “Because I don’t know how,” she muttered.
“Well, for goodness sake, if that’s the only problem—!” Grabbing the girl’s hand, Laura guided her back up the steps. “Come inside. I can teach you in five minutes.”
“Really?”
“Really.”
And she did. Then she bought Jessica a can of soda and they spent another half hour talking—“Girl talk,” Jessica said smugly.
“That’s right,” Laura agreed, admiring the long braid swinging neatly between the girl’s shoulder blades. “Feel free to drop by any time you need help with your coiffure.”
“My what?”
“Coiffure. That’s hairdo in French.”
“Coiffure.” Jessica preened. “I didn’t even know I had one!”
Because you don’t have a mother, Laura thought, feeling infinitely sorry for the pretty little girl before her. And that father of yours apparently isn’t doing anything to help you out, either. You’re growing up fast and there’s so much a girl needs to learn.
Poor Jessica really needed a woman around the house, but considering how pigheaded her father was, that wasn’t going to happen anytime soon.
Poor kid.
“Hi, Daddy.”
Matt looked up from the building plans he’d been perusing to see his daughter skipping across Laura’s lawn. She looked different and for a moment he didn’t realize it was because her hair was in a neat braid instead of hanging free around her face.
She looked nice. He wondered who’d done it for her.
She preened before him, turning her head this way and that. “Like my coiffure?” she inquired coyly.
Zach, playing in the grass with a square of sandpaper, frowned. “What’s a cough-your?” he wondered.
Jessica grinned broadly. “A hairdo, silly.”
Matt smothered his smile. “So who braided your hair and taught you such a big word?” he teased his daughter.
She pointed to Zach. “His mother!”
Zach clapped his hands together. “Hooray for Mama!” He looked expectantly at Matt.
“Yeah, hooray,” Matt responded, less than thrilled with the news. “So where have you been?” he asked Jessica.
“Around.” She said it with airy superiority.
“Does your sitter know where you are?”
“I told Mrs. Brown I was going over to the crafts workshop at the school.”
“But you didn’t?”
Zach stood up. “I’m glad you came to my house, Jessie. Want to play?”
Her gaze shifted from the little boy to her father and back again. “Daddy—”
Zach tugged on her hand. “Jessie, I got a new video. Want to watch it?”
Matt
