“Grace has to come with us to Fourth of July, Daddy.” Cassie Hunt stood in the kitchen and looked up at her father with hope and determination on her cute-as-a-button face.
Grace was watching Logan’s reaction, and it was awfully hard to keep from laughing. He didn’t know how to respond. This was a holiday, and even a hardworking rancher like him was taking some time off. It was late afternoon, and Cassie had told her they were going into Blackwater Lake for the celebration. Grace had said she hoped they had a good time, and the little girl insisted she had to come along, then confronted her father.
“The truth is, Cassie, I’ve been so busy I forgot to ask Grace about it,” he said honestly. “I will fix that right now. Grace, would you like to go with us for the Fourth of July celebration?”
“Thanks for asking, but it’s all right.” Being included felt like crossing a line from professional to personal. And from what he’d said about being only a weekend dad, this was a good chance for the two of them to hang out by themselves. “I don’t want to intrude on your time together.”
“But you hafta come,” Cassie pleaded. “It’s fun. And there’s a parade.”
“What else is going on?” she asked.
“Hot dogs. Pizza. And cotton candy.” The little girl thought for a moment. “There’s rides and fireworks. I don’t like the real loud ones, though.”
“All of that sounds good except the cotton candy. If that’s a deal breaker...”
“You don’t have to eat it,” Logan said. “You should come with us. We’re celebrating America’s independence, and it’s downright un-American to sit here by yourself.” He settled his hands on lean hips. “If you were in Buckskin Pass what would you be doing?”
There she would go to the annual town celebration and try not to smack Lance the Loser, who had broken her heart and her bank account. In her current situation, being by herself meant not having to pretend she wasn’t infatuated with this cowboy. When she was around him, the attraction meter never failed to click into the danger zone.
“I would take part in the Buckskin Pass festivities,” she finally admitted, leaving out the part about Lance the Loser.
“Then you should come with us.” Was that guilt, reluctance or obligation in his tone?
“Daddy’s right.”
“Wow.” He looked at his daughter as if she was an alien being from another planet. “That hardly ever happens. Me? Correct about something? That parade today just might be in my honor.”
“You have to, Grace. I’ll be sad if you don’t.” Cassie thrust out her bottom lip in an unmistakable pout.
Grace sighed. “Who can resist that face? Not me, that’s for sure.”
“Yay!”
At least one out of three was pleased. Grace thought Logan looked as if his horses had just gone on strike. In spite of his inviting her along, his body language said he didn’t want to be around her any more than necessary.
Actually, she couldn’t blame him. It’s what she deserved after offering unsolicited parenting advice in her first couple of days on the job. Now she was barely into week number two. She’d made a personal vow not to offer an opinion unless he asked for it.
“How does my hair look, Daddy?”
“I like the ribbons. Red, white and blue. Very patriotic.”
“Grace did it.” She turned her head from side to side, showing off the ponytail and the long strands of ribbon decorating it. “I’m never getting my hair cut.”
“That’s a topic best discussed with your mom.” He looked at Grace. “You ready to go?”
She glanced at her denim capri pants and red T-shirt with stars and stripes. If only there was an anti-Logan spray like the one you could buy to repel mosquitoes. Not to say he was a pest, but it would come in handy. Alas, no such product existed. “I’ll just get my purse and light jackets for Cassie and me.”
A little while later Logan drove into a lot designated for holiday parking because Main Street Blackwater Lake was closed off to through traffic. The carnival rides were operating in the same open area, and Cassie’s eyes grew wider as she pointed out the ones she wanted to go on.
Logan made no comment but kept on walking. It was a short distance to the parade area, and they looked around to find the best viewing spot in the crowd gathered up and down the street. As it turned out, all the front-row spaces were taken and the audience was several people deep. Before they could decide where to go, she heard someone call out Logan’s name.
“Look!” Cassie pointed at the Grizzly Bear Diner. “There’s Uncle Tucker and Uncle Max and Aunt Jamie.”
“My siblings,” Logan explained.
“A big family.” Grace envied him. She had no one, except the friends she’d made in Buckskin Pass. Although she’d made the comment that it must have been fun growing up with them, his response had been “not really.” Why did she get the feeling that circumstances and not his brothers and sister had colored his view? “They look nice.”
“You might change your mind about that after you meet them. There’s no getting out of this now that we’ve been spotted.” His voice was teasing. In spite of the words, he looked pleased to see them. “Brace for impact.”
Cassie took both of their hands and tugged them through the crowd to where the three siblings stood together. “Hi!”
“Hello, peanut.” The pretty twentysomething woman bent to hug her niece. “Love your holiday hair.”
“I know. I love it, too. Grace did it.”
Questioning blue eyes, a lot like Logan’s, regarded her. “And you must be Grace, the hair goddess.”
“Be nice, Jamie. Don’t scare her off.” Logan put his hand at the small of her back. “This is Grace Flynn. She’s taking care of Cassie for the summer.”
“Tracy mentioned she was hiring someone to help while she plans for the wedding then goes on her honeymoon.” The woman’s look was friendly and welcoming.
“Grace,” Logan continued, “this is my sister, Jamie Hart, and my brothers, Tucker and Max Hart.”
All of them Harts? But Logan’s last name was Hunt. Maybe they were half siblings, she thought, although some instinct told her that wasn’t the case. The family resemblance, especially among the men, was pretty strong. All three were better-than-average-looking and would have women sacrificing to the matchmaking gods.
“It’s nice to meet you all.” She shook hands with each of them. His brother Max was tall and broad, like a walking mountain, and his big hand swallowed hers. “You look familiar,” she said.
“If you recognize him it’s probably from tabloid stories linking him to all his groupies. He played in the National Hockey League,” Logan explained.
Grace decided to ignore the not very veiled reference to women. “Played? Past tense?”
“Ankle injury. It affected my skating skills.” Max shrugged, and his dark blue eyes didn’t reveal how he felt about a career-ending injury.
“Now he has too much time on his hands and uses it to harass me.” Tucker was tall, muscular and somewhere in his thirties. He was pretty cute, too. “I have better things to do than prop up his ego.”
“Building houseboats is no big deal,” Max shot back.
“What are you guys? Five? Our niece is more mature than you,” their sister teased.
Grace had