her finger. “My brother and his wife.” The brother that sent for you. But he can tell you that. Not me.
“And that place?” She pointed to his house.
“That’s mine.” As in mine alone. As in, not yours and mine.
She faced the main house. “Then this must be your parents’ home.”
“It’s my mother’s.”
She turned questioning eyes up at him.
Quit looking at me with those beautiful peepers, ma’am. “My father passed away a couple of years ago.”
Sympathy passed through her gaze, and he forced himself to look away. “Oh, my. I am so sorry.” She laid her hand on his arm. Something about her gentle touch sent warmth spreading through his veins.
He stared at the spot where her hand rested. The gesture touched him, but at the same time it sent warning signals flashing through his brain. Her politeness and sweetness were driving him crazy. He dropped his arm to his side, letting her arm slip from his. He didn’t want to feel any kind of a bond to this woman—or any other woman for that matter.
Then he made the mistake of once again looking at her face. Hurt and discomfort gazed back at him. She looked so small and vulnerable. Guilt trailed through him like hungry red ants at a picnic, chewing away at his conscience. His thoughtless gesture had hurt her, and she didn’t deserve the treatment he had dealt her. But then again, he had to protect himself. He needed to harden himself against the emotions she seemed to stir up in him so easily. Emotions he wanted no part of. The sooner Jesse dealt with her, the better. Just keep telling yourself she’s not your problem, Haydon, and you just might survive this situation with your sanity and heart still intact.
He turned toward Jesse’s place, wondering where Abby was and what was taking her so long.
“Excuse me, please?”
As much as he didn’t want to, Haydon faced her again. “Yes?”
Her eyes locked on his for the briefest of moments before her lids fluttered, and she looked toward Jesse’s house. “Is Abby the only one who does not know why I am here?” She turned those wide innocent fawn eyes up at him again, and his heart lurched.
The last time Haydon saw a look like that was on a puppy he’d owned as a child. That puppy had won his heart and had gotten whatever it wanted. Haydon swallowed hard. Rainee’s not a puppy. She’s a woman. And not just any woman. She’s the most dangerous kind there is. Sweet and innocent-looking, and beautiful. “Miss Devonwood, I—”
“Haydon!” Abby’s voice carried across the yard.
Haydon wanted to hug his sister for saving him. He spun her direction and watched as she ran toward him.
“Jesse got hurted this mornin’ and he can’t come.”
His heart dropped to his boots. He had hoped Jess would at least feel well enough by the time he got back that he could deal with Miss Devonwood. Now what?
“How come I didn’t know he got hurted?”
“Hurt, not hurted,” Haydon corrected. “Because you, Mother and Leah were gone all day, remember?”
Abby hiked her little shoulder. “I forgetted.”
“I forgot.”
“Did you forgetted too?” Her round eyes smiled up at him.
“No, I didn’t forget. You said… Oh, never mind. Why don’t you run along and go play now?”
“Okay.” She skipped back toward the corner of the house and disappeared.
Haydon turned toward the sound of Miss Devonwood’s twitter.
Her gaze lingered in the direction Abby had gone.
“Just what do you find so amusing, Miss Devonwood?”
Rainee reeled toward him and blinked. Amusement, not anger, fluttered across his handsome face. “Abby is lovely.” She stared at the spot where the little girl had disappeared. “To think that precious girl is going to be my sister is so—” Rainee’s eyes flew open and hot blood rushed into her cheeks. She pressed her fingertips to her mouth to stifle her gasp.
Merciful heavens! What is wrong with you, Rainelle? Since you got here, he has not mentioned the subject of marriage even once, and here you are talking about Abby being your sister. No wonder Mother had to rebuke you so often. Will you ever learn? She gazed longingly at the forest of trees, wishing she could flee into their thickness and hide away forever.
She turned and retrieved her parasol, handbag and the flowers from the bench seat.
“Haydon. Where have you been all day?”
Rainee whirled toward the big two-story house. A tall, lithe woman strolled toward them and stopped directly in front of her.
The handsome blonde lady with powder-blue eyes looked up at Haydon and quirked one delicate eyebrow. “Sorry, I didn’t know we had company.”
“Mother, this is—”
When he stopped speaking, Rainee looked up at him, wondering why he quit talking. Obviously he was not going to say anything more, so Rainee took matters into her own hands. She turned her attention to his mother. “Good afternoon, ma’am.” She curtsied. “I am Rainelle Victoria Devonwood.”
“Good afternoon, Miss Devonwood. I’m Katherine, Haydon’s mother.” Katherine looked perplexed as she glanced from Rainee to Haydon and back again.
“It is a pleasure to meet you, Mrs. Bowen.”
“Please call me Katherine. We don’t stand on ceremony out here. Feel free to address all of us on a firstname basis.”
Rainee looked at Mr. Bowen. Mother had always made it clear a man should never call a woman by her given name unless they had known each other for a long time or were courting. Neither one fit this scenario.
His jaw worked back and forth again, but after a few seconds, he glanced at her. “Mother’s right. Call me Haydon.”
Relief drizzled over her like a warm summer rain. One more detestable rule of etiquette she would not have to follow out here. Mother and Father would not approve of her choice to call someone by their first name, but Rainee loved it. It was much more personable.
“Thank you, Haydon.” Using his Christian name felt quite strange and yet lovely at the same time. “Please call me Rainee. I prefer it over Rainelle.”
“Rainee,” he acknowledged. “Rainelle is a beautiful name, though. I’ve never heard it before.”
Rainee blushed under Haydon’s compliment. “My father was British. It was his mother’s name.” Her gaze lowered and she noticed the flowers in her hands. She extended the bouquet toward his mother. “These are for you, Mrs. Bowen.”
“It’s Katherine, remember?”
“Yes,
