can’t go far.”
That was when she noticed the door leading to the main house was open. “I’ll be right back,” Molly flung over her shoulder as she dashed out of the room, soon finding herself in the house’s main living area. “Trent Bailey, where are you?”
“Who is Trent?”
Molly stopped in her tracks, and stared into the face of Worth Cavanaugh. For what seemed the longest time, not only did her body shut down, but their eyes also met and locked, though neither said a word. But that didn’t matter. The tension was such that they might as well have been screaming at one another.
“Hello, Worth.” Somehow Molly managed to get those words through cotton-dry lips.
“What are you doing here?” he demanded in a curt tone, choosing to ignore her greeting.
“I would think that’s obvious.”
“Maxine failed to tell me you were coming.” Instead of curt, his tone was now in the freezer, showing no chance of thawing.
“That’s also obvious.”
Another silence.
“Again, who’s Trent?”
“My son.”
Worth’s black eyes flickered and his mouth stretched into a pencil-thin line. “Lucky you,” he finally said in a caustic tone, his eyes filled with scorn as they traveled up and down her body.
The word bastard was about to fly out of her mouth when Trent rounded the corner, racing to her side. “Mommy, I went to see the moo cows.”
Molly pulled him against her, clamping her hand on his shoulder. When he started to squirm, her hold tightened. As if sensing he was in trouble, Trent stopped wiggling and stared up at Worth with open curiosity.
“Trent,” Molly said in a tight voice, “this is Mr. Cavanaugh.”
Worth merely nodded at the boy, then looking up at Molly said, “I’d like to talk to you alone.”
Biting back another choice word, Molly peered down at Trent. “Go back to Granna’s room, honey. And don’t leave. I’ll be there shortly.”
“Okay,” Trent said, whirling and running back down the hall.
Don’t run, Molly wanted to shout, but she knew it wouldn’t do any good. Trent was already out of hearing range.
“So how old is he?”
Molly shook her head as though to clear it, Worth’s question taking her by surprise. “Almost four,” she said, lying with such ease that it shocked her.
“Good-looking kid.”
“Thanks.”
Instead of receding, the tension between them continued to rise until Molly felt either she or the room would explode. Or maybe both. She sensed Worth felt the same way, as his features seemed to darken by the second.
“How long are you planning to stay?” he asked, the muscle in one jaw moving up and down, something that always happened when he was angry or disturbed.
“I’m not sure.” She paused. “Maybe a week. Maybe longer. I’m not sure. Do you have a problem with my being here?”
“Not in the least,” he countered in a harsh tone.
“Is there an addendum to that?”
“Yeah,” he said in a parting shot, “just stay out of my way.”
Two
He’d been blindsided and he hated it.
This was his domain, dammit, and he had control over what went on here. Or at least he thought he did. Worth muttered a curse, rubbing the five o’clock shadow that covered a good portion of his face as he continued to stand on the porch outside his room. In the distance, he could see the last remnants of a sun fast sinking into oblivion.
Worth peered at his watch and noted that it was not quite five. He loved the fall of the year, especially October because the leaves changed colors. There was one exception, however. The time change. He didn’t like anything about falling backward, robbing him of an hour of light at the end of day. As a hands-on rancher, light was a precious commodity.
At this particular moment, whether it was daylight or not wasn’t what his frustration was all about. Time had nothing to do with the gnawing deep in his gut. But he sure as hell knew what did.
Molly.
Back in his life.
No way.
Not possible.
Not happening.
Only it had.
She was in his house.
And there wasn’t one thing he could do about it short of pitching her and the kid out the door. He muttered another colorful expletive, but again that did nothing to untie the growing knot in his stomach.
Granted, he’d known he would eventually see her again. To think not would’ve been ludicrous and unrealistic. After all, her mother worked for him. But since he hadn’t seen Molly in nearly five years, he’d begun to think that maybe fate was smiling on him.
Heretofore, during her vacation, Maxine had always gone to visit Molly. He’d assumed that would continue to be the case.
Of course, that was before Maxine had fallen and injured her back to the extent she’d been confined to bed. Molly returning to the ranch seemed to fit the logical order of events, which wouldn’t have been as much of a problem, if only he’d known about it.
He didn’t like surprises, especially not surprises of this nature. Almost walking head-on into her had definitely been a blow—a blow from which he hadn’t yet recovered.
The kid hadn’t helped, either.
Worth rubbed the back of his neck, feeling the hard coiled muscles under his fingers. Nothing short of asking them to leave would give him any relief. That wasn’t about to happen, at least not for several days anyway.
Meanwhile, he’d just have to put up with the situation. If Molly did like she was told and stayed out of his way, then he could manage. If not…Hell, he wasn’t about to go down that treacherous road. It would only make him madder and more frustrated.
He just wished she still didn’t look so damn good. Lovelier than even he remembered. And his memory was excellent. Never a day went by that some little something didn’t remind him of her. While that never failed to shoot his blood pressure up, he’d learned to shove thoughts of her aside and move on.
Now though, that wasn’t doable. He’d most likely see her every day whether he wanted to or not, regardless of what he’d told her. Having gotten over the initial shock somewhat and his head screwed back on straight had brought that reality home. As long as she was on his property,
