now might cause him to have a bad opinion of the boy.
Pierce was clearly not a man to cross or aggravate or inconvenience in any way, which made him the last person Claire would pick to raise her beloved Cody. Just the fact that he’d deemed her unimportant to the child was enough to convince her that he wouldn’t care about Cody’s feelings in any other circumstances. Particularly furniture gouges.
That hard black gaze dropped to note the bronze horse she still held in her hands. He hadn’t greeted her, not even to make a token welcome, so she didn’t offer one, though she was compelled to speak.
“There’s been a small accident, Mr. Pierce. I’m afraid your table has been damaged, and I apologize for not being quick enough to prevent it. If you’ll send me the bill, I’ll gladly pay for either a repair or a replacement, whichever you prefer.”
Claire held her breath, so terrified of how he’d react that she felt almost faint. Cody’s voice carried a cranky whine.
“I want the horse, Momma.”
Claire glanced down at him, relieved to be spared a few seconds of the intensity in Logan Pierce’s gaze. She set the sculpture on the coffee table next to the tray.
“The horse isn’t a toy, honey,” she said softly as she took the boy’s hand to redirect his attention. “You need to say hello to your uncle.” She gave the child an encouraging smile.
Cody glanced over his shoulder to see the giant of a man who stood a few feet away, then promptly turned back to Claire and launched himself against her. Claire picked him up and his little arms went tightly around her neck. There was no mistaking his fear, and Logan’s disapproval was evident.
“Does he act up like that all the time?”
The question was a criticism of the boy that was almost impossible to tolerate, though she managed to do it.
“He’s very well behaved, Mr. Pierce. He didn’t get a good nap on the way out, so he’s out of sorts. And this is a new place. He’s shy with people he doesn’t know, and I’m glad of that. I hope you’ll be patient. He’s really a very good little boy. Very good.”
She took a shaky breath, compelled to win some sign of softening on Pierce’s harsh face. “He’s only two years old.”
Her voice broke on the words so she went silent and tried not to look as terrified for Cody—and as worried about Logan Pierce’s obvious displeasure—as she felt.
“Why are you glad?”
The odd question threw her for a moment, but he helpfully supplied a reminder.
“You said he’s shy with people he doesn’t know. Why are you glad?”
Claire sensed more than a trace of anger behind the question, as if he’d taken her remarks personally.
“I’m sure you read the papers and listen to the news, Mr. Pierce. A child who’s too friendly with strangers is at risk, so yes, I’m glad he’s leery of strangers. I’m sure he’ll be fine once he gets to know you. Please don’t be offended.”
The heavy silence that descended was rife with undercurrents. As intimidating as Logan Pierce was, Claire couldn’t seem to keep from staring.
The man wasn’t handsome, at least not in the conventional way. His weathered tan gave the impression of Native ancestry that went with his almost black hair and midnight eyes. And yet it was his very ruggedness that would make him a standout anywhere he went.
He was tall and wide-shouldered, with strong arms and long, powerful legs. He obviously spent the bulk of his time outdoors doing hard physical labor, and the blue plaid shirt he wore with the cuffs folded back, his jeans and scuffed black boots were clearly work clothes.
The overall impression was raw masculinity unrelieved by any trace of softness. Claire knew already that he was a tyrant who was used to getting his way, either by the sheer overpowering force of his will or by buying it. He’d used both to stake his claim to Cody and he’d been soundly successful.
But did he have it in him to extend some small particle of mercy to the woman he’d so decisively trounced in court? Claire would gladly forego any possible concession to her in exchange for his pledge to be gentle and understanding with the boy.
Cody’s whispered, “Wanna go home, Mommy,” wasn’t quite enough of a whisper.
If it was possible, Logan Pierce’s harsh expression went harsher. Claire sensed right away that he blamed her for the boy’s eagerness to leave. She broke contact with his cold gaze to speak with the child.
“We came to visit your uncle Logan, sweetheart. Remember? We brought your toys so you’d have plenty to play with in case your uncle didn’t have many toys.”
Claire persuaded the boy to loosen his hold on her neck so he could see her face. She made herself smile. “Maybe we can have Uncle Logan help us bring in a few things. Would you like that? I’m sure he’d like to see your cars.”
“No, Momma,” Cody said, his little face the picture of distress before he cuddled close again. “I wanna go home,” he said, then burst into tears.
The sound wounded her and she looked over at Logan. “Do you have a rocking chair?” If she could get Cody to settle down enough to finish his nap, it would make all the difference.
Logan didn’t reply to that, but instead turned to walk to the wide doorway he’d entered the room by moments ago. He obviously expected her to follow, so she gathered up her handbag and the large cloth bag of Cody’s things. She awkwardly balanced her hold on the sobbing child with one arm as she swung the long straps of both bags over her shoulder and started around the long sofa.
When she got to the hall, she turned in the direction Logan had gone. She passed the open double doors to a formal dining room before she reached a second long hall to the left that apparently led to the bedroom end of the large house. Claire hadn’t realized that the house was laid out in an L-shape. Somehow she’d not noticed it, possibly because the ranch driveway had brought her directly toward the house and she’d been too upset over finally arriving to pay attention.
Her ungracious host was waiting outside the door of a bedroom and she ignored his deepening frown when his dark gaze dropped to note the large bag that no doubt looked as heavy and cumbersome as it felt.
A gentleman would have offered to carry it for her, but because he might not have seen it sitting on the floor during his brief visit to the living room, he’d not had an opportunity to be helpful.
On the other hand, the rude way he’d walked out of the living room to lead the way here, easily outdistancing her and the sobbing boy as if they were both too disruptive to tolerate, made her conclude that chivalrous acts—if he even knew what those were—weren’t automatically conferred on those he deemed unworthy of them.
And this was the creature who would raise Cody.
Claire turned carefully with her burdens to walk through the doorway, and the sight of the bedroom made her heart fall. It was a child’s room, a little boy’s, and it had obviously been decorated by a professional. It was another hurtful reminder that Cody’s place was here now, and not with her. Everything, from the wallpaper to the drapes to the beds—and there were two
