“When does he come back for good?” Though he’d meant to stay on the ranch for only a few weeks while Wyatt recuperated, falling in love with Caroline had inspired Ford to leave his law practice in California for his home and family in Wyoming. He’d brought with him the lovely engagement ring now resting on Caroline’s left hand.
“At the end of the week, thank goodness. I can’t believe how much I miss him.”
Susannah realized she hadn’t seen Travis for almost two weeks—and she hadn’t missed him at all, had actually been more contented than she’d felt in years. Shame brought heat to her face. “I’m sure you do.”
Caroline gazed at her for a moment and then crossed the kitchen to stand nearby. “You don’t have to feel guilty,” she said quietly. “He forfeited his claim to your concern, your love, the first time he hurt you. You and your children have every right to find a place where you’re safe and cared for.”
“I know.” Susannah swallowed hard. “It’s just...he wasn’t always like...that.”
“But you have to cope with the present, not the past.”
“He could change.” The possibility seared her conscience. “What if I gave up too soon?”
Leaning one hip against the counter, the cowgirl social worker ran a finger around the rim of her mug. “Do you think he will?” After a moment, she met Susannah’s gaze. “Are you willing to risk Nate and Amber’s well-being on that possibility?”
“No!”
Caroline nodded, lifting her mug in a salute. “You’ve made the smart and brave choice. Just take things one step at a time for a while. Let the past recede and the future wait awhile. For now, this summer, the three of you are in a good place.”
Picturing the big man playing Candyland with her daughter, Susannah smiled. “You’re right. We are.”
Caroline stopped by the plate of peanut butter cookies on the kitchen table. “Mmm...these look delicious.” She chose one and finished it off. “That Nate of yours is a natural horseman, by the way. He rides as if he’s been in the saddle since he was a baby.”
Susannah dumped the dregs of the coffee in the sink and poured out beans to start a fresh pot for Wyatt’s afternoon consumption. “He’s always loved horses. Whenever we went to the library, he found books about cowboys, ranches and riding. I’m sure he enjoys being here.”
“I hope so. We’ll see to it that he gets as much horse exposure as possible. Meanwhile, I’m taking one more of these cookies as I go. Once Dylan, Wyatt and Garrett find them, there won’t be any left.” She grabbed another cookie on her way out.
With the coffee made, Susannah decided she’d better check on the gamers in the room at the far end of the hall. Since Amber hadn’t wandered off seeking new entertainment, Susannah expected to find them still absorbed in the colors of Candyland.
Her heartbeat quickened as she approached the doorway, which was ridiculous. Nothing had happened to make her nervous. She drew a deep breath and relaxed her clenched fingers. Maybe she’d indulged in too much coffee today.
When she stepped into the room, she was surprised to find the game abandoned on the bed. Wyatt sat at his desk, with Amber on the floor beside his chair, her box of crayons and what seemed to be a ream of paper spread around her.
Amber glanced up as Susannah stood staring. “I’m drawing, Mommy.” The page she held featured one diagonal blue line. “See?”
“That’s...um...wonderful, honey.” As far as she could tell, all the papers showed just one or two marks, on only one side. “You’re making a lot of pictures, aren’t you?”
Wyatt swiveled his chair around to face her. “She won two games,” he said. When Susannah frowned in doubt, he held up a hand. “Fair and square. Then she wanted to use her crayons, so I gave her some paper.” He glanced down at Amber, and his usually solemn expression softened into a smile. “She’s having a good time.”
“So I see.” Flustered by his smile, Susannah hunkered down beside her daughter and gathered together the drawings. “You could put a picture on both sides, Amber. Can you do that?”
“Don’t want to.” Amber pulled open the bottom drawer of the desk and brought out more sheets. “I like it this way.”
“I don’t mind,” Wyatt said. “As long as she’s happy.”
“She’s making a mess and wasting supplies. And trees.” Aware of how bitchy that sounded, Susannah stacked the pages and flipped them over, blank side up. “Draw on these, Amber. You don’t want to use up all of Mr. Wyatt’s paper.”
Lower lip stuck out and eyes wide, Amber clutched the blank pages to her chest. “No.”
Great. An argument, in front of Wyatt. Susannah kept her voice gentle. “You have plenty, sweetie. Leave the rest alone.”
“I want more.” In a quick move, she scattered the pages she was holding, turned to the open drawer and reached inside. “More!”
Face flaming, Susannah straightened up. “I’m sorry,” she said, not meeting Wyatt’s eyes. “You’ve been very good to play with her, but I think a break is in order.” She picked up her wailing-and-kicking daughter by the waist. “I’ll deal with this chaos in a few minutes.”
“I can get—” he started, but stopped. “No, I can’t,” he said gruffly. “Damn this brace, anyway.”
Having ruined a perfectly peaceful scene for her daughter and for him, Susannah took Amber to the room they shared and shut the door. A few minutes of sobs and sniffles followed, during a heart-to-heart talk about listening to Mommy, before her little girl fell asleep with the tears still drying on her face. Some days, a grown-up five-year-old still needed a nap.
Now she had to go back and face Wyatt while she restored order to his office. He kept his life organized, she’d discovered since she’d been here. Much of her cleaning had been out of a sense of duty more than actual necessity because the house was amazingly tidy, especially considering bachelors lived there. Despite what he’d said, having the floor carpeted with childish scribblings had probably driven him crazy. Susannah knew she shouldn’t have allowed her daughter to demand so much of his time. She’d make sure she kept closer tabs on Amber in the future.
In the next few days, that resolution proved much easier to make than to keep. Whenever Amber’s bright voice had gone quiet, Susannah would discover her playing with Wyatt. She found them in the living room one afternoon, where Wyatt sat in the rocking chair with the baby doll, wrapped in a bath towel, resting on his shoulder. Amber stood beside him, patting the baby’s shoulder as he moved back and forth.
“What are you doing?” had become her standard question.
“Shh!” Amber put a finger to her lips. “Baby is sick. Her daddy is rocking her to make her feel better.”
“Ah.” She kept her voice down. “And who are you?”
“I’m the sister. He’s my daddy, too.”
Struck to the heart, Susannah found her gaze locked with Wyatt’s, but she couldn’t read his expression. In desperation, she put a hand on Amber’s shoulder.
“Sweetie, maybe the baby wants a drink of water. Why don’t you go get her bottle from the bedroom?”
“Okay.”
“I’m sorry,” Susannah said as soon as Amber was gone. “I can’t imagine where she comes up with these ideas.”
“I expect you hold her when she’s sick and that comforts her.” The doll still rested on his shoulder. “Good parents do those things for their