“Give that to me and stay back.” Jake seemed to take his self-assigned role of defender seriously.
Maybe it was because he thought a woman wearing big long-eared slippers might not be tough. Well, she wasn’t afraid of a wild moose. She ignored Jake’s advice, she was sure it was well meaning, but really, it wasn’t as if she hadn’t dealt with this situation before. She marched across the road and upended the bucket on the ground. The grain pellets tumbled and rushed into a molasses-scented pile in a bed of wild grasses, and the moose came running.
With her empty bucket banging against her knee, she hurried back onto the graveled lane as the moose attacked the pile as if he hadn’t eaten in five weeks.
“A little theatrical for a moose, but he’s mostly harmless,” she told Jake, who’d rushed to her side looking pretty angry. “He didn’t take a liking to your Jeep, though. I’d move it into the garage if I were you, while he’s distracted.”
“I can’t believe you did that.” He stood between her and the moose. “You could have been killed. More people are killed every year in the Iditarod by moose than by all other predators combined, including wolves and mountain lions. You might treat him like a pet, but he’s still dangerous and unpredictable.”
She grabbed hold of her broom and was surprised at how worked up he was. She could sense how he’d been afraid for her safety, that was why he was all agitated. She didn’t know why she could feel his emotions or his intent. Maybe she was reading a lot into his behavior, but it was hard to be upset with a man who only wanted to protect her. Even if it was unnecessary, it was well-intentioned.
And wasn’t such goodness what she’d been praying for in a man? Not that he was The One, but still, a girl had to hope. “I’ll run ahead and open the garage door for you, and I’ll fix you a supper to remember. Is it a deal?”
“That’s a pretty tall order, but I’d sure appreciate it.” He didn’t take his steely gaze from the gobbling moose. “I don’t get home-cooked dinners very often.”
“Then I’ll see you at the house.”
His attention remained on his adversary as he backed toward his vehicle. “Are you sure you don’t want a ride? You’d be safer.”
“I don’t think so.” How could it be safer to be in close quarters with the handsome, hunky, Special Forces soldier?
She glanced over her shoulder before she stepped into the garage through the side door. She could barely see the driveway over the top of Mom’s Climbing Blaze, the shower of red roses nearly hiding Jake’s SUV as he guided it forward at a slow pace, as if expecting the worst.
She couldn’t see through the glare on the windshield as the Jeep hugged the lazy curve of driveway along the edge of the lawn, but she imagined Jake was watching the road out of the corner of his eye and keeping a close watch on the moose.
All was well. The wild animal stayed crunching away at his diminishing pile of grain, his jowls working overtime. It looked as if the Jeep was out of danger for the time being, so she hit the button and the garage door groaned upward.
Jake’s vehicle was right outside, waiting as the door lifted the last bit. The glare on the windshield had lessened and she could see his silhouette behind the wheel. He was tall. Now that she had a chance to think about it, she remembered looking at the upper span of his chest when she’d stood facing him.
He was really tall, she amended. At least six, six-one.
The vehicle rolled to a stop and she hit the button again. The garage door hid the moose from sight. It didn’t hurt a girl to dream, Rachel decided as she backed through the threshold that led through the utility room and into the kitchen, sizing up the man.
He definitely looked like a beef-and-potatoes guy. Maybe she’d take another pass through the freezer and find that roast she knew was in there—
The vehicle’s door opened, but it wasn’t Jake’s door. It was the one directly behind it. What? That didn’t make any sense. Jake was still clearly sitting behind the wheel. She could see him perfectly through the windshield with the dome light backlighting him. He sat soldier-straight and commando-powerful.
There was someone else with him? Her brother hadn’t mentioned a second buddy coming in for the wedding that she’d have to feed, too. Not that she minded, but… Her thoughts stopped dead at the sight of a little girl climbing down from the back of the SUV.
Jake had a daughter? She was the cutest little thing, all spindly arms and legs and a cloud of chocolate-brown curls. She had to be about seven or eight and stylish in her matching pink-and-teal shirt and shorts set. Matching sandals with tassels decorated her feet, and a pair of pink barrettes were stuck into her thick, beautiful hair. Costume jewelry dangled from her wrist and her neck, and she held a tattered purple bunny that had seen much better days.
Oh, she was a sucker for kids. Suddenly it made sense that she’d found the Popsicles. It was as if one of God’s angels was giving her a clue. Now there was a treat waiting for this adorable little girl. Determined to be friends, Rachel gave a little wave. “Hi there. I’m Rachel.”
The little girl stared with big, wide, shy eyes and ducked back behind her open door for safety.
I know just how you feel. Rachel had been shy every day of her life. Her heart squeezed for the little girl, who had to be feeling out of her element.
Then Jake emerged, shrinking the cavernous size of the triple garage with his sheer magnetic presence. He held out one big hand, gentle despite his size. “C’mon, Sally baby. This is Ben’s sister I told you about.”
“’Kay.” She took Jake’s hand and let him lead her through the garage. The little girl looked resigned and not happy.
Determined to cheer her up, Rachel offered the child her friendliest smile, but the girl intentionally sent her gaze upward, looking around at the various shelves of tools, lawn stuff, Ben’s old hunting gear and every imaginable outdoor activity stored overhead in the rafters—from the canoe to the cross-country skis.
Jake, however, did return her grin. He had a nice grin, one that softened the hard granite of his chiseled face and etched dimples into his lean cheeks. “I don’t know if Ben mentioned I had Sally in tow with me. I had planned on picking her up after the wedding, but things didn’t work out that way.”
Oh, divorce, Rachel guessed. Shared custody. That couldn’t be easy for anyone involved. “No problem. Life rarely works out the way you think it will. I was just about to defrost a roast.” If I can find it. “So that will be enough for all three of us. Sally, may I ask you something?”
The little girl nodded, her pretty emerald eyes wide and somber.
“Do you and your bunny want to help me pick out what kind of potatoes to make?”
Another shy nod.
“Excellent. Are you a mashed-potatoes kind of girl? Or do you like Tater Tots?”
“Tater Tots!” Some of her reserve diminished, and she hugged her bunny tight. “Uncle Jake don’t know how to make ’em right.”
Uncle Jake? Rachel shot a glance at the unlikely uncle closing his door and nudging the child along in front of him. “It takes talent to know how to get Tater Tots just right. Do you like ’em soft and crumbly or crisp?”
“A little crisp but still kinda all soft in the middle, but not so it’s still cold.”
“Me, too.” Since it was hard not to like a man who took the time to spend with his niece, especially on his limited stateside visit, she’d ask his opinion, too. “Are you a Tater Tot man or a mashed?”
“Strictly French fry, but I can make an exception.”
“Maybe I can rustle up a few fries for the man who defended