He shook his head. “I’ll take her.”
“But your family is waiting for you,” she protested.
“They’ll live.” He looked down for a moment, then back at her. “And so we’re clear, I do trust you. This is on me, not you.”
Without another word, Logan walked over to where Cassie was with her friend’s family. He shook hands and smiled at Lindsay’s parents in a casual, friendly way before the group threaded through the crowd in the direction of the open area where the carnival rides were set up.
Grace saw the protective hand he put on his daughter’s small shoulder, and the sight tugged at her heart. He was the personification of the strong, silent, solid cowboy—polite and protective. She believed him when he said he trusted her but would bet almost anything that he didn’t trust himself.
Why was that?
* * *
Unlike his daughter, who’d conked out in the truck on the way home after fireworks, Logan couldn’t sleep when they got back to the ranch. He was tossing and turning in bed and couldn’t get Grace off his mind. For a lot of reasons, not the least of which was the feel of her bare skin beneath his hands. But mostly it was how she’d looked at him when he got squirrelly about Cassie going on a carnival ride without him there to watch her. You’d think he set Grace’s hot-pink panties on fire.
Well, maybe that wasn’t the best way to think of it since he was the one with hot pants and doing his damnedest not to let on. No, that look of hers was about judging him, and in the fatherhood department, he came up short. Trying to hide the fact that he had no idea what he was doing wasn’t working. She was too good with kids not to see the truth. Before she came here, things with him and Cassie were fine. Weekends were sacred, and the hired help took over. He hung out with his daughter, and when she was with him, he knew she was safe. He didn’t have to delegate that responsibility.
Now he had to trust Grace with what was most precious to him in this world. But trust didn’t come easy. The fact was, he’d never hated Foster Hart more than he did at this moment. Thanks to that bastard, he had no blueprint of what a good father looked like.
Logan heard something, and his eyes popped open, adrenaline pumping. The sound came again, and he realized it was Cassie crying out. He threw off the covers and jumped out of bed, his only thought to get to her.
He ran down the hall and saw that her bedroom door was open, and faint light from her lamp spilled out. Inside, Grace sat on the bed cradling the little girl in her arms. Since her room was next to Cassie’s, she got there first and was crooning comforting words.
“It was a bad dream, honey. You’re fine. I’m here. There’s nothing to be afraid of, I promise.” She met his gaze, and there was a question in her eyes.
Logan knew she was wondering if he wanted to take over, and he shook his head. Cassie was clinging to Grace, and he figured she was probably better off right where she was.
“It’s okay, sweetheart.” The sobs were tapering off as Grace rocked her and rubbed her back. “Do you want to talk about it?”
“I’ll be scared.” Cassie clutched even tighter.
“Sometimes if we share something that scares us it loses the power to be frightening.”
“Somethin’ was after me.” Cassie sniffled. “I ran and ran as fast as I could, but it grabbed my shirt and I couldn’t get away. I kept saying, ‘Help,’ but nobody came.”
“Oh, honey.” Grace brushed a hand over Cassie’s hair. “I’m so sorry you were scared. It was just a dream, though, and can’t hurt you. I’m here. Your dad is here.”
Cassie lifted her head and looked at him. “I didn’t see you, Daddy. Sorry I waked you up.”
“It’s okay, baby girl. Are you okay?”
“Better now.” She yawned. “Do I hafta go back to sleep? I don’t want to.”
“Not until you’re ready,” Grace assured her. “I’ll be here with you, okay?”
“I know.” The little girl nodded and relaxed against Grace again.
Logan had heard that kids had an instinct about people and didn’t suffer fools. If that was true, Cassie completely trusted this woman, and he was relieved about that. In a perfect world, no one would ever let this little girl down. The irony was that a kid’s father should be the first line of defense, but Logan worried that he was the one most likely to disappoint her.
When Cassie yawned again, Grace asked, “Do you want to go back to bed?”
Cassie nodded and crawled out of her lap beneath the covers, then grabbed the stuffed bear Logan had bought her on one of their mall trips. Grace reached over and turned out the light but not before he caught a glimpse of her in the flimsy flowered pajamas she wore to bed. His body went tight and hard, proving how much he wanted her. If he needed any, it was more proof of how much he was like his father. He was lusting after the childcare professional while his little girl was in the middle of a meltdown.
Cassie whimpered. “I’m scared.”
“I’m here.” Grace stretched out on the bed and pulled the child against her. “Tell me what you’re afraid of.”
“There’s a monster on my ceiling.”
Grace looked up. “The shadows?”
“Uh-huh.”
Between the moon’s rays streaming through the princess curtains and the night-light plugged into an outlet, a whole bunch of shadows were hovering above the bed. The only way to make them disappear was to leave the light on, and Logan was just about to suggest that. Then Grace started talking in her soft, sweet, soothing tone. He wished he could see her because when she used this voice there was always something innocent in her eyes that he liked.
“I don’t see a monster on the ceiling. It looks like an elephant to me, a cute and cuddly one.” She pointed. “There’s his trunk and big, floppy ears. Can you make it out?”
“Yes,” Cassie said.
“Or maybe a fairy—like Tinker Bell. There are the little wings and her arms stretched out for flying.”
“I can see her.”
Grace pointed again. “I think that could be an ice-cream cone. See the pointy part and the mound on top?”
“Uh-huh.” Cassie’s yawn was long, and her mouth stretched wide open. “In the corner I see a ladybug. There’s the round body and tiny wings when she flies away.”
“Good one.”
Between his daughter’s yawn and her getting involved in finding friendly shapes in the ceiling shadows, Logan knew the crisis was winding down. Grace had managed the situation without resorting to keeping the light on. He backed out of the doorway but stayed in the hall, listening to the low voices that soon became just one—Grace’s.
Eventually she tiptoed out and looked startled when she saw him, the same expression she’d worn when he scared her into dropping her panties while unpacking.
“I thought you went back to bed,” she whispered.
“No.”
“You could have.” Based on the hushed voice, it was hard to tell whether or not her tone was defensive.
“I stayed—just in case.”
“Everything is under control. And I assume you have to get up before God to work in the morning.”
“Yeah.”
“Then I have to conclude that you don’t trust me.”
“Not you,