gross.”
Reid’s chest tightened as he watched the pair. The only time he heard his daughter laugh was when Fang gave her kisses. During the six-month probation period where he and Jessie had gotten to know one another, he’d cracked a few jokes but they’d fallen flat. As for smiles... His daughter smiled—just not at him. That’s why he’d been stunned when she’d answered yes after the social worker asked if she felt comfortable enough with Reid to live with him.
Jessie crawled into bed and Fang snuggled next to her, his bug eyes watching Reid unpack.
“Your grandfather isn’t very nice,” Jessie said.
“He’s mad at me.”
“Why?”
“I haven’t been a very good grandson.” He sat on the end of his bed and tugged off his boots.
“Why not?”
Reid didn’t want his problems with his family to influence how Jessie got along with them. “Don’t worry, my grandfather will come around.” Gramps would never take his disappointment in Reid out on a defenseless kid.
“Scarlett’s a social worker.” Each time Jessie stroked Fang’s head, the dog’s eyes closed for a second, then popped open.
“That’s interesting.” It was also interesting that whenever he’d looked into her brown eyes, he’d felt like he was being sucked into quicksand—a warm, soft quagmire.
“Scarlett seems nice.”
Her doe-like eyes had hypnotized him all those years ago and without realizing what he was doing he’d started kissing her.
“Can you get my Kindle from my backpack?”
“Sure.” Reid had learned after meeting Jessie that she didn’t go anywhere without her electronic reading device. And according to Mrs. Delgado, his daughter was of above-average intelligence. After Stacy died, Jessie had been given the option to enroll in a public school but had declined, so the social worker had supervised her studies until Jessie had been placed in a foster home, where Mrs. Valentine took over the homeschooling duties.
Reid knew nothing about homeschooling and hadn’t even been to college. He wasn’t the right person to teach his daughter. They hadn’t talked about Jessie attending a public school, but Reid didn’t see any other option.
He retrieved the Kindle, then checked the clock on the nightstand. One o’clock. “You can read until I finish my shower, then lights out.” He carried a clean pair of briefs and pajama bottoms into the bathroom and then stood under the hot spray, until the tension in his neck and shoulders eased. As his body relaxed, he focused his thoughts on Scarlett. He’d expected to encounter a few surprises returning home after all these years, but she hadn’t been one of them. He’d thought Scarlett had been the prettiest girl he’d ever seen, and she’d only grown more beautiful since then. He grinned when he recalled bumbling their first and only kiss. He’d love to show her he’d learned a trick or two about kissing since then.
He turned off the water and stepped from the shower. After putting on his pj’s, he ran the electric shaver over his face and erased his day-old beard. When he stepped from the bathroom, Jessie was sound asleep with the Kindle resting on her chest. He turned the gadget off and placed it on the nightstand.
His daughter was a tough girl. She kept things inside like he had at her age. Before he turned out the light, he studied her face, searching for traces of himself. Aside from her blue eyes and dark hair he couldn’t see a resemblance. He hurt for Jessie. It was obvious she’d been close to her mother.
And now she’s stuck with you.
But unlike his father who hadn’t given a crap about him, Reid was determined that he’d always be there for Jessie as long as she needed him.
Scarlett sipped her coffee in front of the hotel window as she watched the sun peek above the horizon Saturday morning.
She’d caught a few winks after Reid and Jessie had retired to their room last night, but she was eager to relinquish her desk duties to the part-time employee Gunner had hired to cover for him while he helped Lydia with the baby.
Her gaze swung to the High Noon room and she envisioned Reid sprawled across one of the double beds as he slept. The cowboy had been her first crush and she’d never forgotten him or his kiss. Every once in a while she’d recall that afternoon and wonder where he was or whom he was with. But she’d never imagined him being a father.
Eventually the streaks of pinkish orange along the horizon gave way to bright sunlight. The pace of life in Stampede was turtle slow compared to the hustle and bustle of Wisconsin’s state capital. Last year she’d despised the tiny Texas town for luring her cousins away from Madison. Not in a million years had Scarlett believed she’d be living here, too.
If not for being duped by Dale, and having been forced to resign from her job, she wouldn’t have packed her belongings and moved south. Fortunately there was a need for social workers, and Family Crisis Services in Mesquite had offered her a job right away.
The door to the High Noon room opened and Jessie stepped outside with Fang. The little Chihuahua was dressed in his Superman T-shirt and his owner wore pajama bottoms, pink fuzzy slippers and a sweatshirt. Coffee in hand Scarlett left the office and followed the duo behind the motel. “Good morning,” she said.
Jessie jumped, then slapped her hand against her chest. “Crap, you scared me.”
“Sorry.” Scarlett sat at the picnic table.
Jessie walked the dog until he did his job, then scooped him off the ground and joined Scarlett, placing Fang on top of the table.
“The plastic bags to pick up his doo-doo are over there.” Scarlett pointed to the waste station.
Jessie put her hand in front of Fang’s face and said, “Stay,” then walked off to clean up the dog’s mess. When she sat down again, she removed a single-serve can of pet food from the pocket of her sweatshirt and popped the lid off. Fang’s tail twirled like a propeller as he gobbled his breakfast.
“Where did you get your coffee?” Jessie asked.
“There’s a Keurig machine in the office. Do you drink coffee?”
The preteen nodded.
Twelve was a little young to get hooked on jitter juice. After the dog finished his meal, Scarlett said, “There’s milk in the office fridge.”
“I like coffee.”
They returned to the office, where Jessie filled a disposable cup with water from the cooler and offered Fang a drink.
“You take very good care of him.” Scarlett watched Jessie make herself coffee, then dump three creamers and two packets of sugar into the cup—definitely not a proper breakfast for a twelve-year-old.
“If you like animals,” Scarlett said, “then you’ll love visiting the petting zoo at your great-grandfather’s
