Saturday.”
She smiled at him and his belly tightened. “Don’t worry, Rafferty. I’ll make it as painless as possible.”
He knew that was a lie. He was already hurting for her, but he’d find a way to put a stop to that. The only female he wanted a relationship with was his daughter. He needed to make sure a certain pretty blonde didn’t cause any more complications in his life.
CHAPTER FOUR
THE following Saturday afternoon, Jenny wished she could rethink her idea of this class. Several girls between the ages of eight and twelve were running around, chattering away with the occasional high-pitched squeal. When she suggested they find their seats, they ignored her. Thank goodness for the mothers and her helpers.
Her friend, the shop’s owner Allison, walked in. The petite auburn-haired mother of three smiled as she glanced around the new classroom area. “Oh, Jenny, you did a wonderful job with this space.”
“Thanks. Millie helped a lot, too.”
They both eyed the new shelves along the wall. Every nook had the name of a student, with room for their projects. “I thought if they kept their quilts here they would have less chance of getting lost or dirty.”
They walked toward the large round table at the window and Jenny announced, “The Quilters’ Corner.”
With a smile, Allison nodded. “Has anyone claimed time here yet?”
Jenny nodded. “A few of Millie’s friends came in yesterday. They had coffee and went through a few pattern books. We’ll see what happens.”
“It might take time and the classes are a start. Not only kids are here, but their mothers.”
“And I’d better get things started.”
Jenny went to the front and suddenly the room grew quiet. With a smile, she said, “Hello, girls. Ladies.”
“Hello, Miss Jenny,” they answered in unison.
“Are you ready to start your projects?”
Again they answered in unison, with a “Yes.” A pang of regret hit her as she thought about her class back in San Antonio, and the students she’d had to leave.
“Okay, then.” She began to walk between the rows of tables. “I see most of you have brought in your fabric. For those of you who haven’t, there are several bolts on the shelves, along with any other supplies you’ll need.” She smiled. “So let’s get started. We might not get to do any sewing today, but we can cut out blocks of fabric.”
As the teams began their first task, Jenny stopped and talked to each girl along with her mother. She was happy to see Principal Perry’s daughter, Kasey, there with her grandmother, loyal customer, Beth Staley.
There were ten twosomes. Even Allison’s daughter, eight-year-old Cherry, was here to work on her family quilt. That was good, since Jenny hoped to use her friend’s expertise to help with the class.
The one disappointment was that she didn’t see Gracie Rafferty. Evan had gone back on his word.
“Gracie didn’t show?” Allison asked as she stood back from Cherry, who was busy using a cutter on her fabric.
Jenny shook her head. “I did everything I could to get her here. I even offered to drive her in.”
Her friend smiled. “It’s one of the things that’s so endearing about you, Jenny Collins. You want to help everyone, but there are some out there who don’t want it.”
“I know, but Gracie was so eager to finish her mother’s quilt.”
“And she will … someday.”
No sooner did the words come out than Gracie Rafferty came rushing through the door. She was out of breath when she asked Jenny, “Am I too late?”
“No, you’re in time,” Jenny assured her and pointed to an empty space she’d saved. “You can sit here.”
Gracie beamed as she took her place in front of the portable sewing machine and next to Cherry. Jenny had planned it that way, knowing Gracie would need Allison’s help with the complicated pattern.
Evan Rafferty appeared in the doorway. Jenny hated the way she reacted to the man dressed in worn jeans, a navy Henley T-shirt and dusty boots.
She’d been born and raised in Texas, but somehow this man gave a whole new meaning to the word cowboy. It seemed many of the other women in the room were sizing him up, too.
With hat in hand, Evan walked toward her carrying a large shopping bag. “She’ll need this.” He gave it to Jenny and she looked inside to find the quilt from the cedar chest.
“Thank you, Evan, for letting Gracie join the class.”
He nodded and they walked back toward the doorway and out of earshot. “I didn’t go back on my word, Jenny. I hope you don’t either.”
Jenny knew she’d never do that to sweet little Gracie. “I don’t go back on my word, either, Rafferty. In your daughter’s case, I definitely think the class will help her. It’s important to her that she finishes this. What better place than with other girls her age? Where she isn’t outnumbered by men.”
They both glanced toward Gracie’s workspace. Millie was helping the girl lay out her fabric and the Double Wedding Ring cutting template. “Look at her, Evan. You have a determined child.”
Evan didn’t like feeling helpless. The day he’d found out about Meg’s cancer, he’d known he couldn’t fix it. He couldn’t save her. Worst of all, he couldn’t keep his daughter from losing her mother. It was a natural instinct to protect his child. It seemed he’d been doing it all wrong.
“She’s a lot like her mother.” There hadn’t been many things that Meg had left unfinished. No doubt Gracie had decided to pick up where she’d left off.
He quickly drew his attention away from Gracie and looked at Jenny. The woman looked like a breath of fresh air and bright sunshine. Her hair was pulled up in a ponytail and she wore a yellow knit top with a long print skirt that seemed to flow against her generous curves.
She’d kept him distracted all week. He didn’t like that much.
“All Gracie has talked about all week is you and the sleepover.” His gaze locked on hers. “If you don’t have the time, let me know now.”
Jenny looked surprised at his directness. “The question is, Rafferty, are you ready for a half dozen little girls and me?”
No way was he ready for her. “Not sure I can handle it, but I’ll try.” He glanced away. “When will the class be finished?”
Jenny blinked. “In two hours.” She glanced at the clock. “Three o’clock. Of course, the game could go extra innings.”
He caught the baseball analogy and fought a smile as the high-pitched chatter of little girls serenaded them. “I don’t think you’re ready for extra innings, teacher.
