Maybe he’d be lucky. Maybe Heather and Angel would be gone. Maybe it had all been some freakish dream that had seemed so real he could still feel the way Heather’s skin had burned beneath his touch, still smell her once-familiar flowery scent, still hear the clink of those annoying bracelets.
And maybe there were no cattle in Wyoming, he thought with a resigned sigh.
He could handle this, he told himself as he approached the diner. He’d handled worse dilemmas, if less personal ones. Some of the egocentric, temperamental people he dealt with on a daily basis were a whole lot worse than one little girl and a mother with a determined glint in her eye.
Or maybe not, he thought, considering what Heather expected of him.
Still, if he wanted his life back, wanted to return to his safe, familiar rut, this was something he had to do. He was not going to be scared off by a pint-size human being who might or might not be his daughter. Maybe if he reminded himself often enough that Angel was just an innocent little girl with a shy smile, it would stop terrifying him so. Of course, that was precisely the point and that was precisely what terrified him.
He actually got out of his car in front of the diner, took several steps toward the door, then hesitated, his bravado vanishing. He glanced in the window. There was no sign of Angel, but Heather was talking to a customer, a wrangler from one of the nearby ranches, judging from the rugged, tanned looks of him. Her hand on his arm, she was leaning in close and laughing at something he said. What was she up to? If she was here to snag him as a daddy for Angel, what was she doing with another man? Looking for a substitute in case he held out? Jealousy streaked through Todd like a bolt of lightning.
One good thing about jealousy, he concluded. It could motivate a man to ignore just about everything else. He was through the door of the Starlight Diner without giving it another second thought.
As he passed by, he directed a scowl at Heather, then headed straight for his regular booth and grabbed a menu, even though he knew everything on it by heart. The specials were listed on a blackboard by the front door. He hadn’t even bothered to glance at those. He doubted he’d notice if he was served a platter of sawdust.
Minutes later he heard the familiar, irksome tinkle of bangle bracelets and glanced up to find Heather regarding him with knowing amusement. He had to wonder then if she’d spotted him outside, then deliberately stood within view flirting with that cowboy. Such a tactic wouldn’t be beyond her. She’d always known exactly the effect she wanted to create—on stage or off—and exactly how to make him crazy.
That was what made this current test of wills so dangerous. Heather had a way of sneaking past his defenses, of winning, despite whatever his intentions were. In the first year they’d dated, he’d told himself a million times to bail out because they were such an ill-suited match, but each and every time, she would sense his mood and find some clever way to change his mind.
“Something wrong?” she asked, studying him curiously.
“Nothing. Why should anything be wrong?”
“Just wondering,” she said, her expression innocent, but her lips curved into the beginnings of a smile. “You seemed upset, the way you came striding through the front door. Looked like a man on a mission.”
“Sweetheart, you’ve never seen me upset. This isn’t it.”
Her grin spread. “I’ll keep that in mind. What can I get for you?”
After two days’ worth of tacos, hamburgers, fries, popcorn and milk shakes in Laramie, the last thing Todd actually wanted was food. He was here because he wanted his life to settle into its familiar routine, and by God, he intended to see that it did.
“I’ll have the steak,” he said. He always had steak on Thursday night. “Medium rare. Baked potato. Salad.”
“With ranch dressing,” Heather said before he could, confirming that she had a long memory and that he was entirely predictable. Boring.
Just to prove she wasn’t as clever as she thought she was, he said, “No. French.”
“But you hate—”
“Not anymore.”
“Okay,” she said mildly, scratching out the original order and correcting it. “Coffee with cream, or has that changed, too?”
“Black,” he said. “I like it black.”
She shook her head. “If you say so.”
“That’s right. I say so. It’s been four years. You don’t know me, Heather. Not the way you think you do.”
Suddenly serious, her gaze locked with his. “And what? If I did, I’d go screaming out of town, run back to New York, leave you alone?”
He nodded, relieved that she’d finally grasped the point. “Exactly.”
“Sorry. I’m not buying it. Maybe things between us have changed, but you, the kind of man you are? Not a chance. Honor and integrity are as ingrained in you as your DNA. I’ll be back with your coffee and salad in a sec.”
After she’d gone, Todd felt his breath ease out of him, as if he’d been holding it the whole time they’d been talking. Somehow the purpose for coming here had gotten lost. His routine was still a shambles. He did hate French dressing and he liked cream in his coffee.
Maybe that’s why he was almost relieved when Heather brought the dressing for his salad on the side—two kinds, French and the ranch he preferred. She also set down three tiny containers of cream for his coffee. She placed all of it on the table without comment and left him to make up his own mind about how far he intended to carry his stubbornness.
He was about to give in and spoon the ranch dressing onto his salad when he sensed he wasn’t alone. He glanced down into green eyes that were unmistakably the exact same shade as his own.
“Hiya,” Angel said.
Todd swallowed hard. “Hi.”
“I gots a doll. Wanna see?” She was already holding up a plump baby doll with golden ringlets and a real child-size diaper that almost swallowed it up.
What was he supposed to say to that? Todd wondered. “Very pretty,” he said finally.
“Her name’s Leaky.”
Leaky? Maybe that was the reason for that diaper, Todd concluded, surprised to find himself beginning to smile.
“Like my name,” she explained.
“I thought your name was Angel,” he said, confused.
She regarded him impatiently. “It is. Angel-leaky.”
“That’s Angelique, baby,” Heather corrected her as she approached the table with the rest of Todd’s meal.
“Ah,” Todd murmured, understanding finally. “That’s a lovely name.”
“I read it in a book,” Heather told him.
Suddenly Todd recalled her reading a set of dog-eared novels about a heroine named Angelique. He could remember the dreamy expression in her eyes, the deeply satisfied sighs when she reached the final page of each one.
“I remember,” he said, wishing he didn’t. Because with those memories came others of the sweet intensity of their lovemaking when Heather had been off in some imaginary, romantic world for a few hours.
Her gaze honed in on his, as if she knew precisely where his thoughts had strayed. Her expression softened.
And then that blasted cowboy called out, “Hey, sugar, how about a little more coffee?”
The moment was lost. It was just as well, Todd thought. Tripping down memory lane was the last thing he needed to be doing. Cold, hard logic, he reminded himself firmly. That was the ticket.
“I sit with you?” Angel asked, startling