why aren’t you?”
She shot him a dark look. “Because I don’t like to go where I’m not wanted.”
“You don’t really know that you’re not wanted,” he said and leaned toward her. “Listen, if you want to go to Chantaine and meet them, we can work something out.”
“I don’t know how,” she said, staring into her mug and cradling it with both hands. “Emma isn’t settled in yet. She needs more time to feel at home and to get into a routine.”
“That’s true, but she’ll get there,” he said, even though he sometimes wondered if his daughter would ever feel at ease in his house. He was damn determined to do what was necessary to make it happen, though. “I don’t want you to feel that you can’t go,” he said.
She bit her lip. “It’s not like I would have anything in common with them.”
He stared at her for a minute. She looked young, but he knew she’d carried a lot on her shoulders while her mother was sick. She’d taken charge with Emma and dealt with the baby’s nightmares with no complaint.
“What are you scared of?”
She took immediate offense. “I’m not scared.”
“Sure looks like it to me,” he said.
“Well, I’m not. But you have to admit that these people are definitely in a different league.”
He shrugged. “Still gotta put one sock on at a time.”
She shot him a sideways glance and her lips twitched. “Unless they have a servant who puts on their socks for them.”
Benjamin laughed. “That would be pretty pathetic.” He put his hand over hers. “You don’t have to make any rash decisions. You can take your time. Give yourself a break.”
She met his gaze and took a deep breath. “I guess you’re right. I don’t need to work myself into a frenzy over this.”
“Exactly,” he said, and the moment stretched between them. The warmth in her eyes gave him a strange feeling in his gut. Realizing that his hand was still covering hers, he quickly pulled it away. It was one thing to try to comfort his daughter’s nanny, but he didn’t want Coco to misconstrue his sympathy as something else.
He cleared his throat. “Well, I should hit the sack,” he said and rose to his feet.
“Me, too,” she said, following him to her feet. “I’ll take care of the mugs.”
“Thanks,” he said, wondering why his voice sounded so rough. He headed toward the doorway.
“And, Benjamin, thank you for talking me down from that cliff I was climbing,” she said to his back.
He smiled at her description of her emotional state. “No need to scale a cliff unless it’s absolutely necessary. G’night.”
“G’night,” she said as he entered the hallway. He felt another twitch at the sound of her soft voice, and he rubbed his stomach. He’d better take some antacid.
Two days later, as she was about to feed Emma, Coco saw Benjamin enter the house. Midlift of the spoon, Coco thought about the fact that Benjamin had been avoiding his daughter once again. She couldn’t allow this to continue.
She pulled the spoon back from Emma. “Benjamin,” Coco called as the baby frowned at her in confusion. Emma’s soft, plump lips puckered in disapproval.
Benjamin poked his head in the doorway. “Yeah?”
Coco immediately stood. “Emma’s ready to be fed and I … uh … I need to powder my nose.”
Benjamin wrinkled his brow. “Powder your nose?”
“Use the ladies’ room,” she said.
Realization crossed his face. “Oh, okay. You want me to watch her?”
“I actually want you to feed her,” she countered.
He frowned. “Feed her?”
“It’s not that hard,” she said and reached for his Stetson, but he was faster. “She hates your hat.”
“I like my hat,” he said.
“You don’t need to wear it in the house while you’re feeding a baby,” she said and held out her hand for him to give her his hat.
“I’ll put it on the table in the foyer,” he said, lifting his hat from his head.
“Ah!” Emma called.
“Oops, better hurry. She’s getting impatient,” Coco said.
“Well, she can wait one minute,” he said.
“Not unless you want her to start screaming so much she can’t stop,” she said. “Gotta go,” she said, covering her ears as she ran to the upstairs bathroom. She wasn’t sure she could hear Emma’s screams at full blast and not respond.
She went into the bathroom closed the door behind her and turned on the fan. “La-la-la-la-la,” she said as she covered her ears, determined to prevent herself from hearing Emma’s screams. She continued for several moments then stopped her la-las. No baby shrieks pierced the sound of the fan. Giving in to her curiosity, she cut it off.
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