not how capable you are. It’s how willing you are.” He sighed for a moment, then continued. “Like I said, I sensed that you’re not comfortable around her. I don’t want my daughter to feel like she’s unwanted.”
Heather couldn’t hold his gaze. Her eyes, with those impossibly long lashes, lowered protectively. “I’m sorry,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper. “I know how it looks. It’s just...she reminds me...” She stopped there, her hands twisting together.
She seemed genuinely upset.
“Reminds you of...” he prodded.
She bit her lip, shook her head, then slowly, almost reluctantly, looked up. He caught the faintest shimmer of tears in her eyes. “Doesn’t matter,” she said. “Adana is a sweet little girl and I don’t mind taking care of her.”
But John couldn’t ignore the brief glimpse of sorrow in her eyes and in her voice. Older emotions sifted into the moment and he thought of her upbringing. “Is this because of your mother?”
She frowned and he realized he’d barked up the wrong tree.
“No. Nothing to do with her.” She waved off his comment with one hand. But that didn’t erase his curiosity. There was more to this than she was letting on.
“I can take care of her,” Heather said, reaching out for his daughter. “I know you and Dad have a lot of work to do before calving.”
Still John hesitated, glancing from Heather to Monty. He had to be realistic. He couldn’t take care of his daughter today.
Then Adana made up his mind for him. She patted him on the cheek with one chubby hand, as if to reassure him, then stretched her arms out toward Heather, her fingers clenching and unclenching.
“Pwease. Go for wide.”
John shifted to accommodate Adana’s sudden movement, then reluctantly let Heather take her out of his arms. Somehow, in spite of the woman’s hesitation around his daughter, Adana seemed to connect with her.
Heather held her for a moment, looking down at her. The tiny quiver of her lips was the faintest tell, raising a host of other questions. There was more to this than mere discomfort around children. There was real pain in her eyes.
But as Monty called out to him again, John knew this wasn’t the time or place to find out.
Besides, he didn’t have the right to pry into her personal life, he reminded himself as he watched her gently place Adana back in the wagon. He had to keep her at a distance. He had plans for his life, and she would only complicate them.
She gave him a forced smile that he sensed was more for show than anything, then picked up the wagon handle and walked past him.
He didn’t plan to watch her leave, but couldn’t keep his eyes from following her slim form, her blond hair flowing down her back, glistening in the sun as she headed toward Keira’s workshop.
Monty walked over to find out what the delay was. “Everything okay?” he asked John, glancing from him to Heather.
“Yeah. Heather is taking care of Adana. She just brought her by to say hi.”
John saw Monty watching him, his eyes intent.
They were both quiet a moment, as if measuring each other.
“Heather hasn’t told us much about her life in New York, but her mother and I sense she’s had a tough go the past few years,” the older man said quietly, folding his arms over his chest, his eyes slipping back to Heather. “Mitch wasn’t good for her. She’s a very wounded soul.”
John sensed a warning in Monty’s voice, and wanted to remind him that he had tried to tell Heather not to go with Mitch to New York. Not to believe the promises he had made her.
But he kept his comments to himself, aware of how precarious his current situation was. Even though Heather had been the one to break up with him, his love for her had never been a secret on the Bannister ranch. When Mitch had come to Saddlebank the first time and swept Heather off her feet, Monty had been the one to commiserate with John.
Now, it seemed, he was obliquely warning him to keep his distance.
“If that’s the case, Heather will need this time with your family to recuperate before she moves on,” John said. “And I wish her only the best in everything she does.” He met and held Monty’s gaze. “As for me, I have Adana to take care of right now.”
The rancher smiled carefully and nodded. “Of course you do.” He shifted his hammer from one hand to the other. “I guess we should get this fence fixed before the day slips away from us.”
He walked away. But in spite of Monty’s warnings, John couldn’t prevent another glance over his shoulder to where Heather had stopped and was lifting Adana out of the wagon.
Their eyes met across the yard and once again John felt as if time had wheeled backward. His foolish heart gave a thump.
He had to focus on Adana.
His and Sandy’s daughter, he reminded himself. A woman who was faithful and true.
And uncomplicated.
Adana toddled around the saddle workshop, jingling the bell that Keira had given her. Sugar, the farm dog, followed her around the room as if guarding her.
“She’s such a cutie patootie,” Keira said, laughing as Adana stopped to tug on the stirrup of a saddle that Keira had been working on.
“She is,” Heather said, letting the melancholy note she struggled so hard to keep at bay slip into her voice as she leaned against the workbench.
Her sister had been cutting some leather for a saddle when she and Adana came into the shop, but had gladly taken a break.
Keira shot her a sharp look. “Are you okay? You seem upset.”
Heather tried to brush off her concern. “It’s just hard...coming back.”
Keira boosted herself up on the bench, as if settling in for a chat. “Coming back to the ranch or coming back to John?”
“That was a long time ago,” she said, trying to sound more casual than she felt. “Besides, we’ve both moved on. He has Adana and I have a new career I’m trying to get established.”
“But he’s a widower and you’re divorced.”
“Not going down that road again,” she said with a degree of finality.
Adana giggled and shook her bell again. Heather felt her heart compress at the sound.
“There’s something else happening,” Keira pressed. “You seem so sad. You look tired and seem as if you’ve lost weight.”
Heather gave her sister a reassuring grin. “That’s music to any model’s ears.”
But
