Montana Mistletoe Page 12

  Jess slanted a curious look at her. “Phil and I were just talking. He says he’d rather not come up to the house for breakfast and lunch, but he’ll join us for dinner.”

  Phil chuckled, his gaze still riveted on Abby. “You know, I’ve just had second thoughts about lunch. Good food, good company, nice scenery...how could I pass that up?”

  “Right.” She felt a cold shiver race through her. “Jess, I need to take Betty to her PT appointment after lunch. Will you be able to watch Sophie?”

  Jess nodded. “I’ll stay in the house with her until you get back.”

  “You’ll watch her closely, right? She’s still not feeling well. The digital thermometer is in the—”

  “Medicine cabinet, top shelf,” Jess said dryly. “I won’t leave her for a minute. This isn’t my first rodeo with the girls being sick, you know. Betty and I have dealt with strep throat, norovirus, ear aches and bronchitis. Not at the same time, of course.”

  She felt her cheeks flush. It was true. She’d been here for two weeks, but Jess had been responsible for the girls for almost a year. What was she thinking? Except...with every day she spent with them, she loved them more, and it was already hard to leave them in someone else’s care.

  “Of course—you’re right,” she said, a little embarrassed. “It’s just...”

  “I know. While I’m in the house with Sophie, Phil can finish settling into his cabin, then he can start hauling hay out to the cattle.” He shot a quick grin at his new hired hand. “Great having you on board.”

  He turned back to the blackboard to continue discussing horse feed and Abby hurried to the house, feeling as if spiders had just skittered down her back.

  She knew Jess had done a background check on Phil. The man hadn’t said anything blatantly wrong and he hadn’t made a wrong move. Yet something about him warned her of danger, and she’d learned long ago to listen to her instincts.

  She silently reviewed the techniques she learned in the self-defense classes she’d taken while teaching in Chicago’s inner-city schools.

  She just hoped she wouldn’t need them.

  * * *

  After serving lunch, and carefully avoiding eye contact with Phil, who seemed to watch her every move, Abby watched him head for his cabin, then left Sophie and Jess playing a round of Candy Land by the fireplace and took Betty into town for her PT appointment.

  In the parking lot of the clinic, she helped Betty get started with her walker and went with her to the front desk. As soon as she was checked in, Abby helped her take a seat in the waiting room. “You certainly seem more stable on your feet now. And a lot more chipper, as well.”

  “With all of the exercises I’m doing, I should be ready for the next Winter Olympics,” Betty said with a chuckle. “Either ice dancing or the luge. What do you think?”

  Abby laughed and gave her wrinkled hand a gentle, affectionate squeeze. “I wouldn’t put either of them past you. I’m going to run a few errands. Call me if you’re done early, but otherwise I’ll be back at the usual time.”

  Abby stepped out of the clinic into the bright winter sunshine and headed down the sidewalk to Millie’s Café, wondering if her father would actually show up.

  The chances were probably slim to none if Darla had seen Abby’s text this morning, so she might end up sitting alone with her cup of coffee back at the rehab clinic. But she had to try.

  Inside the front door, she scanned the coffee shop with its old-fashioned lunch counter, where two retired ranchers were hunched over their coffees talking cattle prices, then glanced around the dining area. A dozen empty Formica-topped tables filled the center space, while six booths with high backs lined up along the big front windows.

  Defeated, she turned to leave, when she saw her father stand up slowly from the farthest booth.

  He rolled the brim of his old Resistol in both hands—a nervous gesture that touched her heart because he’d raised her to follow his rule that no real cowboy ever risked damaging the perfect curve of his hat brim.

  “Hey, Dad,” she said softly. “I’m glad you came.”

  He nodded once and waved her into the booth, then lifted his coffee mug and gestured to the waitress behind the counter.

  The woman brought a cup of coffee over for Abby. “Anything else, darlin’?”

  “Do you still serve Millie’s strawberry-rhubarb pie?”

  “Sure enough—and she still makes it herself, every day. There’s just one slice left, if you want it.”

  “Yes, ma’am. For my dad. À la mode, please.”

  The waitress nodded and returned with the pie, then disappeared into the kitchen.

  “Do you remember this, Dad?”

  He forked up a bite of the delectable ruby pie filling and flaky crust. “You always wanted this whenever you came into town with me. When you were just a little girl.”

  “Now you’ll get to set new traditions with Lanna, right?” Abby asked gently, watching his expression. “Now that you’ve married her mother.”

  “I should have told you about Darla. But everything just happened so fast.” He dropped his gaze to the plate in front of him. “And she’s been real afraid.”

  “Why?” Abby asked cautiously.

  “I think she thought you’d try to talk some sense into me before it was too late,” he admitted gruffly. “You get to my age and figure you’ll just have another decade alone, and then you’ll die.”

  “Oh, Dad,” Abby whispered. “That sounds so sad.”

  He shrugged. “It is what it is. But then someone with a loving heart comes along, and how can you turn away from that?”

  “Where did you two meet?”

  “An Angus-cattle convention. Reno.”

  “She’s a rancher?”

  “Does she look like a rancher to you, with all that glitter?” His laugh lines deepened briefly, as if he were recalling a sweet memory. “She was a hostess in the convention hall. It was crowded, and she bumped into me with an armload of catalogs. They flew all over the floor. And then she started to cry.”

  “You would have told me to just pick it all up, stop sniveling and get back to work.”

  The depth of sadness in his eyes nearly stole her breath. “After your mom left I made so many mistakes with you, Abby. But it’s too late to change anything now.”

  He’d been cold and stern, and he’d often dealt with conflicts by stomping out of the house and disappearing into the barn, leaving her confused and angry and even a little afraid. She’d cried herself to sleep many a time as a child. Yeah, there’d been mistakes—but then she hadn’t been perfect either.

  “I always figured I could’ve done better at raising a boy. But when you came along all pretty and sweet, I was buffaloed from day one. Never did know how to say or do the right thing with any woman—but especially with you. Never had the patience either.”

  Hearing his voice break as he laid bare those regrets chipped at the wall she’d built around her heart. She was an adult now, not an emotional teenager perpetually hurt and angry at his distant demeanor. It was time to let go of the past.

  “Parents try to do their best, Dad. No one is born an expert.”

  “The one thing I knew was that the world was a hard place for a woman. Unforgiving. Dangerous. So I tried to make you tough, so nothing could ever break you. But maybe all I ever did was drive you away.” His brow furrowed. “Now I have a chance to do better, and I’m hoping I don’t mess this up, too.”

  “With Lanna?”

  “Darla.” He lifted his gaze from his coffee. “That day she and I met? She was overwhelmed after a fight with her ex-husband. Terrified that he might keep her from seeing her daughter. Darla happened to fall apart right in front of me, and for once in my life, I must’ve said the right things. We went for coffee and talked for hours. Me.” He shook his head in wonder. “I figured
she was way too young for an old coot like me. But, well...”

  “You ended up together,” Abby said gently.

  He’d always been cantankerous. Impatient. But now he seemed...more at peace, somehow.

  “Now I just hope I can make her happy. She’s never had a real family—the kind that sticks with you no matter what. Wrong side of the tracks, some scrapes with the law in high school. Always ended up with the wrong guys.”

  “She had a rough life.”

  “She never had much until she married Greg, and then she found out money isn’t everything. He turned out to be a big mistake. We had to change the house phone and cell numbers because he called all times of the day and night harassing her. I finally did give him the ranch number again because of Lanna, but told him we’d block him if he caused any more trouble.”

  Abby shuddered. “What if he comes to your ranch?”

  “He does sometimes, to drop off Lanna. But the first time he tried to harass Darla, I marched him back out to his shiny new Navigator with my shotgun.” Dad snickered. “I said he was welcome to pick up or drop off their daughter. But if he tried to intimidate Darla again, I would report him to the sheriff and those fancy tires and the side of that SUV would be full of buckshot. And he would be next.”

  “What did he do, threaten you right back?”

  Dad snorted. “That rich, spoiled city boy? He’s the kind who enjoys bullying someone weaker but is terrified of facing the same thing himself.”

  He pushed his coffee mug to one side. “I don’t judge Darla for the choices she made in her past, and she doesn’t care that I’m older—that I’m not some guy with a fancy job and flashy car. We’re a good, solid match, honey.”

  Honey? He’d never called her that. If Darla’s influence softened this much, it was a miracle. A warm glow filled her heart. “One of the little Langford twins thought Darla was pretty as a princess.”

  “I figured she always wore flashy clothes to feel better about herself.” His smile faded. “I hoped things would be better for her once we were hitched. But she says people in town look down at her as if she were a gold digger who caught herself a lonely old man. It breaks her heart. Betty is the only person in town who even welcomed her.”

  Abby felt a niggle of guilt over her own assumptions, though Darla had hardly been friendly either. “Maybe everyone just needs to get to know her better.”

  He glanced around the empty coffee shop, then lowered his voice. “It’s nobody’s business but ours. But people are dead wrong if they think she came after my money. She knows that almost everything I own is in a revocable trust with only your name on it, and that’s how it will stay.”

  Abby blinked. “I never meant to pry. I mean, I didn’t—”

  He waved away her rising embarrassment. “I set it all up with my lawyer years ago. But just so you know, I did update my will. When I die, Darla will be able to buy a nice house somewhere and will have some money to live on. I figure it’s only fair.”

  “Of course, Dad. But honestly, I hadn’t thought about all of this,” Abby said faintly. “I’ve never imagined a time when you wouldn’t be out on the ranch raising your Angus cattle.”

  “If you fail to set up a will, you’re a fool. You’ll leave a big, expensive legal mess for your family,” he growled. “That’s what my father said to me, and it’s what I’m telling you.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  Dad reached across the table and rested his hand on hers. “It’s been a long time, Abby. I’m glad you’re back.”

  “Me, too. I hope we can stay in touch after I leave.” Her gaze fell on his work-worn hand, the thinning flesh revealing the intricate outlines of the bones and rope-like veins, and she thought about how hard he’d worked all his life.

  If Darla made him happy and she treated him right, then that was all Abby needed to know.

  She caught a glimpse of his watch. “Oh my word! I need to pick up Betty Foster at the clinic. She’s waiting for me.”

  She slipped on her jacket and gathered her purse and gloves. “I...I hope you and Darla will be very happy, Dad. Maybe we can all get together sometime? Though I’m not sure Darla would like that.”

  Rising to his feet, Dad pulled on his coat and settled his old Resistol in place. “I know how she’s been toward you since you came back to town, and we had a long talk. She’s scared that you’ll do everything you can to talk me into believing that our marriage was a mistake.”

  “She must think I’m an ogre,” Abby said with a pained laugh.

  “No—just a grown-up daughter who’s worried about her father.”

  “To be honest, I was concerned. If she was trying to take advantage of you, I would do everything I could to protect you. But...it sounds like everything is going to be okay.”

  “Maybe for you, too,” he said as he pulled on his gloves. He raised an eyebrow. “Could be you’ll decide to stick around.”

  “If you’re referring to Jess, there’s no chance of that.” At the door of the café, she stopped. “You know, Thanksgiving is next week. Would you two like to join us for dinner?”

  His eyes lit up. “That would be real nice. I’ll need to ask Darla. I’m hoping she says yes.”

  “Me, too, Dad.” And as Abby walked out the door, she was surprised at how much she really meant it.

  Chapter Sixteen

  On Sunday morning Jess walked beside Betty as they headed for the ramp to the right of the main church entrance, his hand hovering at her elbow.

  With the temps hovering in the 40s and bright sunshine, the heavy snowdrifts had melted down to small mounds of slush and the sidewalks were bare, but with a brisk wind blowing from the north, none of the other parishioners were gathered outside to talk.

  He helped Betty through the door and smiled as she made a beeline for a group of her friends chattering to one side.

  “Howdy, Jess.” Pastor Bob clapped a hand on Jess’s back. He lowered his voice. “Any more word from California?”

  The noise level in the entryway increased as a flood of children poured from the Sunday-school wing and scattered, looking for their parents.

  Surveying the entryway to make sure the twins weren’t close enough to overhear, Jess shook his head. “Just Lindsey’s phone call, but it was over two weeks ago. I have no idea if she’ll actually show up, so I’m not saying anything to the girls.”

  “Good. Poor little lambs. No sense getting their hopes up.” Bob rubbed his snowy beard. “But at least you know their mom is still living.”

  Jess nodded his head, then turned and saw Abby appear in the doorway, holding each of the twins by the hand. Her silky crimson blouse shimmered, clinging to every slender curve.

  Apparently he wasn’t the only one who noticed her, because Trace Jorgensen, the local banker, took one look and headed straight toward her with a wolfish smile on his face.

  Jess ground his teeth and forced his attention back to the pastor. “Sorry, Pastor, what did you say?”

  Bob gave him a knowing smile. “I shouldn’t keep you from your family, and I see someone I need to talk to. Take care.”

  But before Jess could reach Abby and the twins, Maura stepped in his path and brushed a swift kiss against his cheek. “How’s everything out at the ranch?”

  Jess dragged his attention from Abby to the woman now standing squarely in his way. “Fine.”

  She glanced over her shoulder at Abby, then rested a hand on his arm. “I left you a message but haven’t heard back. Have you thought about redecorating your office yet?”

  He frowned. “Redecorating?”

  “Your office.”

  “Uh, no. Maybe someday.”

  Her face fell for just a moment; then she rallied, and her determined smile returned. “Well, you do remember the Christmas-program rehearsals are coming up after Thanksgiving, right?”


  He blinked. “Rehearsals?”

  “For all the children. I’ve scheduled them for the first, second and third Sundays in December. Since this is your first time through all of this with children, I thought you might need a little reminder.” She pressed a folded sheet of paper into his hand and smiled up at him. “We handed these out last Sunday, but your girls weren’t here. They will be part of the Christmas program, right?”

  He started to say, Yes, if they’re still here in Montana, but caught himself just in time. Mentioning that uncertainty to one of the local busybodies would lead to a conversation he didn’t want to pursue, and then see it shared with everyone in town.

  He looked over her shoulder and caught Abby’s gaze drift between him and Maura. She gave him a faint smile, then turned back to Trace.

  Maura gave his arm a flirtatious little shake. “Jess?”

  The temptation to brush her aside and interrupt Trace’s obvious interest in Abby caught him by surprise.

  There were a dozen reasons why he had no right to feel possessive, and just as many reasons why he and Abby would never again be involved. This surge of protectiveness had no place in their business relationship. But still...

  He jerked his thoughts back to the woman standing in front of him and tried to remember what she’d just said. “Uh...yes. Thanks. They’ll be here for the Christmas program.”

  “You seem mighty distracted today, cowboy.” Maura move a little closer. “I miss you. Maybe we can get together again just for old times’ sake? And if there’s ever any way I can be of extra help with your sweet little girls...”

  This time he looked at her—really looked—and saw the hope in her eyes mingled with a touch of jealousy and desperation. Because of Abby? But he and Maura had been down this road before and it had always ended up the same. Her blatant disinterest in the twins had been the final straw.

  And having Abby in his life again—for whatever brief time it would be—had made him see that no one else would ever take her place.