Her Texas Family (4 page)

He had a feeling she would be more valuable—to his office—than she realized. Now that he was over his misconceptions, Graham felt relieved he'd found a fill-in for Hollie that his patients liked.

“I think we should shake on it. Graham Redmond, you promise to be patient with me as I figure out this job—
and
give me a real chance this time—and I'll do my best to be professional.”

Lucy offered her hand.

“I already pledged an oath.”

She raised one eyebrow, waiting.

Fine. Graham would shake on it. He cupped her hand in his. It was warm and soft and definitely didn't make him think about a business deal.

He pulled his hand back. Scrubbed it against his pants.

She was right. He hadn't really given her a chance. He'd been expecting her to fail. But Graham should know by now he was the one who excelled in the failure department.

He'd definitely made mistakes with Brooke. He'd loved her. That much he'd got right. But he hadn't been able to save her. He'd known when he married Brooke there were risks. She'd had cystic fibrosis, but she'd been on medication and always done well. Until her lungs had got worse and worse. Even then, Graham had assumed he could help her, that she'd get better.

They'd married young—just out of college. She'd worked, putting him through medical school. And then they'd found out Brooke was unexpectedly pregnant. At first, Graham had been shocked. He'd been a wreck. Would Brooke's body handle the pregnancy okay? How would they make it? How would he provide? He'd planned to quit medical school until Brooke had given him a verbal slap, knocking him back to reality. She'd told him it would be fine.

And she'd been right.

At least for a while. They'd welcomed Mattie into the world, and Graham had fallen for her just as he had her mother. The years of residency had begun. Brooke had been a rock. Working, taking care of Mattie and shining like never before. Motherhood had fit her. Both of their parents had helped out as much as they could while living over an hour away. Things had settled in again. He'd been months from finishing his residency when Brooke got sick.

Graham should have been able to save her. He should have had the knowledge. He'd pushed her doctors for every detail, searched for answers himself—any treatment options they might be missing. But in the end, it hadn't been enough. He hadn't been enough. She'd faded quickly, no matter what he'd done. No matter what he'd prayed.

He still didn't know how he'd made it through those last months of residency without her. Prayers and family had carried him. Graham had come out stumbling. He'd followed through on his and Brooke's plan to move back to Fredericksburg and open a clinic near both of their parents, missing her as though part of his heart had been surgically removed.

He'd done it for Mattie. Graham would do anything for Mattie. Which was why he'd continued to practice medicine while doubts about his abilities as a doctor assailed him.

If he thought too much about Brooke, about how he'd failed her and been unable to save her, then he wanted to crawl into bed and never come out.

Instead, Graham focused on Mattie. Her needs before his. He kept putting one foot in front of the other, hoping the whole town wouldn't notice he'd fallen flat on his face two years before.

“You still with me, Hollywood?” Lucy's question interrupted his sprint down memory lane. She'd moved closer, about a foot away, bringing the scent of lime and coconut with her.

“Hollywood?”

Her lips lifted. “So, you
can
hear me. I wasn't sure for a minute.”

A light breeze tousled her hair, and Lucy pulled her curls to one side while the hem of her skirt flitted above her knees.

For a second, Graham questioned his sanity, asking Lucy to keep working for him. He only knew his decision had nothing to do with her looks and everything to do with his medical office. Lucy was good at the position—okay, maybe
good
was too strong a word at this point. She had the potential to do well, and that was what mattered.

Besides, it wasn't as if he was in love with the woman. He could simply admit she was beautiful and leave it at that. Anyone meeting Lucy would think the same.

Relief slid down his spine. A bit of attraction? That he could handle. He wasn't signing up for anything more than a businesslike friendship with Lucy Grayson.

Graham and Lucy started walking toward the office, Lucy a few steps in front of him. Without permission, his eyes slid down her belted dress, noticing the way it hugged her curves and showcased her legs. He quickly bounced his gaze to the sky and bit back a groan. The outfit was professional, he would give her that. But it was also distracting. To him. He was positive Hunter hadn't minded rescuing Lucy, though the man hadn't seemed as frazzled by the incident as Graham had been.

“You know, you could wear scrubs if you want. A lot of people working in medical offices do. It simplifies things.”

Plus, maybe scrubs would help keep his thoughts focused on work instead of on the woman in front of him.

“Scrubs?” Lucy turned back, nose wrinkled. “I'm not really a scrubs kind of girl. I think I'll pass.”

That was exactly what he'd feared.

Chapter Four

B
efore Lucy could even consider teaching her first Saturday-morning beginner's ballet class, she needed two things—a Diet Coke and her sunglasses.

Assuming she'd left her sunglasses at work yesterday, since they weren't on the floor of her car, Lucy had left early enough to swing by Graham's office this morning and then hit the drive-through. Some things were worth the sacrifice of a few minutes of lost sleep.

Graham had given her a key to the office on Wednesday, which she considered his peace offering after their confrontation Tuesday. The rest of the week they'd been cordial to each other. Lucy had been scrambling to learn about the job, and Graham had been Mr. Polite. He'd been patient with her and completely professional. He treated her the way she saw him treat everyone else—very respectfully. It bored her just a titch, and Lucy had
almost
found herself wishing for the snarly Graham back, if only for the entertainment value.

She pulled into the lot of the small redbrick building, surprised to see Graham's car there. Did he work Saturdays, too?

Lucy parked and walked inside, calling out her arrival. When no one answered, she checked the reception desk. Score. Her favorite Ray-Ban sunglasses—red on the front, multicolored on the inside—were peeking out from under some papers. She grabbed them.

“Hi, Lucy.”

She placed a hand over her thudding heart and turned. “Hey, Mattie. What are you up to?”

“I was drawing in Daddy's office. He's working.”

Huh. That did not sound like a fun Saturday to Lucy.

“What are you wearing?” Mattie's eyes traveled the length of Lucy's dance sweatshirt, striped fitted shirt that landed just past her hips, leggings and bright green Converse high-tops.

“Clothes for teaching dance. Except for the shoes. Those I have to change when I get there because you can't wear ballet shoes on the street.”

“You teach dance?” Mattie's eyes grew large. She bounced on the toes of her pink tennis shoes. “And do you wear the pink slippers?”

“Yes and yes.” Delight had erased the seriousness Lucy had come to expect on Mattie's face.

“And you do the twirls?”

A pirouette. “Yes.” Lucy stooped to Mattie's height. “Do you...do you want to take ballet, Mattie?”

She nodded quickly, then looked down at the floor.

“Have you asked your dad?”

She shook her head.

Why hadn't she asked Graham? In the past few days, Lucy had learned the little girl was a miniature adult—possibly more mature than Lucy—and that she always seemed slightly sad.

That last one killed Lucy. She couldn't curb the deep desire to make it better, to give the girl some fun. A little joy.

When Lucy had been ten, her uncle had died unexpectedly. Her dad had been devastated over losing his brother, and Lucy had taken it upon herself to cheer him up.

She'd done everything she could to bring happiness back into his life. She'd put on plays. Performed hilarious songs. Made him funny cards and left him notes. Sneaked silly faces at the dinner table. Eventually, it had worked. Dad had called her his sunshine, and cheering people up had become her thing. She already read people's emotions quickly, so delving into helping them came naturally.

And Lucy just couldn't resist bringing some cheer into sweet, serious Mattie's life.

“I think we should ask him.”

Mattie bit her lip. “Okay.”

Lucy glanced at her watch. She wouldn't have time for her Diet Coke run if she talked to Graham about Mattie doing dance. But when a little hand slipped into hers, Lucy knew it didn't matter.

Her decision had already been made.

* * *

Graham heard a noise down the hall and stood from behind his desk. Hopefully it wasn't a patient popping in. He wasn't exactly looking professional in jeans, an untucked blue cotton button-down and brown leather tennis shoes.

More likely the noise was just Mattie. She'd been drawing quietly in his office, but she must have wandered off. He'd promised her they'd do something fun this afternoon to make up for working on the weekend. Being Mattie, she'd agreed without an argument.

He really did not deserve her.

He poked his head out of his office door and found Mattie and Lucy coming down the hall hand in hand. His daughter had been pestering him with questions about Lucy all week. Turned out Graham didn't know that much about her, so he wasn't much of a help to Mattie.

He did know that the past three days with Lucy had gone much better than Tuesday morning. They'd settled into a working relationship in which Graham didn't have a ton of interaction with her outside of work questions—and he was thankful for that.

In the past few days, she'd managed to lose only one chart (Graham had later found it filed under the first name instead of the last), and she'd shredded a stack of notes he'd left that needed to be added to charts. He was working on rewriting those this morning. But, beyond that, she'd charmed his daughter, made friends with Danielle and managed to deal with his sometimes crazy patients and make it look easy.

Lucy and Mattie stopped in front of him, some kind of trouble hiding behind their shared glance.

In leggings and bright green tennis shoes with her hair piled on top of her head in a messy bun, Lucy looked the part of dance instructor. Maybe she'd forgotten which job she was going to this morning.

“Graham.” She paused to wink at Mattie. “We have a question to ask you.”

Unease trickled through him. “Okay.”

“Mattie expressed an interest in going to dance class. The one I teach on Saturday mornings is beginner's ballet. It would be perfect for her.”

Perfect? Lucy had no idea what she was talking about. The only activity perfect for Mattie was yoga. Although she could probably pull a muscle in that. Something with padding around her whole body and no physical contact would do. But since that sport didn't exist, he'd vote no.

His daughter had a major propensity for getting hurt. The last sport Mattie had played was soccer. She'd ended up with a concussion. Who got a concussion in peewee soccer? When she'd begged to take gymnastics, she'd sprained her wrist within the first week.

If there was a competition for reading fast, Mattie would rock it. Or a spelling bee. She could totally do that. He should check if her school had—

“What do you think? Can she come to class with me?”

“I think you're good, aren't you, Mattie?”

Mattie stared at him, seconds feeling like hours. “Okay, Daddy.” Her hand slipped from Lucy's and she walked down the hall, her little shoulders slouching.

Graham rubbed a fist over his aching heart. He wanted to make her happy, but more than anything, he wanted to keep her safe. Sometimes parents had to make the hard decisions, and this was one of them.

“Are you joking?” Lucy's hands landed on her hips, and she looked as though he'd just told her she couldn't buy another pair of shoes all year. Guess it had been naive of him to think she'd walk away and let him handle his daughter's care without injecting her opinion. “You can tell she wants to go. It's obvious. Why won't you let her?”

“You're overstepping your bounds, Lucy. You don't understand.”

“What I understand is that little girl will do anything for you—including give up a dance class she really wants to go to. You should have seen her light up when we were talking about it. She
wants
to go.”

“Mattie struggles with athletics. I don't want her getting injured or feeling left out if she's not as good as the other girls.” Rarely did he get heated, but right now? Not feeling so calm. “Plus, who are you to have an opinion about Mattie or question my parenting? You're acting like a sixteen-year-old.”

“I'm offended for sixteen-year-olds everywhere. And you're acting like an ancient grump.”

“At thirty-one, I am ancient compared to you. And since I'm Mattie's
old
,
grumpy
father, I get to make the decisions.”

“I'm twenty-four. You're not
that
much older than me.”

“I am in wisdom.”
What?
That sentence didn't even make sense. “Age doesn't matter. I'm her father. It's my choice.” Graham did the math in his head. “Wait—didn't you just graduate from college last year?” A fifth-year senior. The way Lucy acted, he could see her not finishing in four.

“Yes. Before I started college, I traveled with a dance team.”

“And then you went to college after that?”

She nodded.

He was being a jerk. Again. Why did he expect the worst from Lucy? Most people wouldn't take time off and still go back to school. She should be commended. But while she might surprise him in certain areas, she was definitely driving him nuts right now.

They stared each other down. Graham wasn't planning to budge. He'd made his decision.

Eventually Lucy's stance softened. “Listen, Hollywood, I understand you're worried about her, but the class is really safe. I'll be there the whole time to watch out for her and help her so she doesn't feel lost or uncomfortable.”

Hollywood.
Why did she keep calling him that?

Lucy glanced at her watch. “I know you're my boss and all, but since it's the weekend, I don't think that counts. Do you?”

Strange logic. “Ah, I guess not?”

“Great. Then you won't fire me when I take her to dance anyway.” Lucy headed down the hall, and it took a second for her words to register. When they did, Graham went after her. She and Mattie were standing by the reception desk, and Lucy was helping Mattie into her coat.

“You can't just take her. That's kidnapping.”

Lucy faced his daughter. “Mattie, do you want to go to dance with me?”

Mattie looked at him with mournful eyes, then at Lucy before her gaze dipped to the floor. Finally, she gave the most imperceptible nod.

He felt like the worst dad ever. Especially since she rarely went against what he said. Must have been hard for her to admit. But even with seeing her blatant desire to attend ballet, letting her go was so hard. She'd had a lot of hurt in her life. Was he so wrong not to want her to go through more?

They were leaving. Mattie and Lucy were walking out the front doors while he stood there thinking. Graham followed them into the parking lot.

“It's illegal for her to ride without a booster seat.”

Lucy marched over to his car. She wouldn't get anywhere with it. He always locked the doors. She pulled on the back door handle, and it popped right open.

Impossible. He
always
locked his car. That verse about everything being possible with God seemed to also apply to Lucy. Whatever she touched turned to gold. Did God just shine down on her life with rainbows and unicorns?

She grabbed Mattie's car seat and walked back over to her Volkswagen. After putting it in her backseat, she helped Mattie buckle in.

When she climbed into the driver's seat, Graham approached.

“I'm calling the cops. You can't just take my daughter.”

Lucy shrugged. “Call the cops, then. The girl needs some fun in her life. You know I'm right or you would have already stopped me.” At that, she slammed the door and drove off.

* * *

Turned out, Matilda Grace Redmond had some natural dance ability. And even if she didn't, the whole morning fiasco with Graham would have been worth it just to see the look of joy on the girl's face.

She'd missed a few steps—okay, a lot—but it was her first class. She'd improve. And, really, it wasn't about getting the steps perfect. It was about a little girl's delight when she learned the five positions and got distracted watching herself in the mirrors. The way she tried to stand on her toes the first time she wore ballet slippers, even though she shouldn't, just because she wanted to be like the older girls in pointe shoes. It was about falling in love with dance the way Lucy had so many years before.

When they'd arrived at the studio with barely any minutes to spare, Lucy had scrounged through the share bin—a place where dancers left items that no longer fit them—and found a skirt and shoes for Mattie. Total score. The dance school had a small area where they sold a few necessary items, and Lucy had snagged a leotard and tights there. A small price to pay for the way Mattie kept twirling in the outfit even though class had already finished.

Yes, the morning had been worth it. But now that Lucy was removed from the encounter with Graham, she really wished she would have handled things better. Niggling doubt about the way she'd acted snatched her joy at seeing Mattie so happy. Why couldn't she just be calm and reasonable? She'd always been passionate. Sometimes her emotions ran a bit...dramatic. She rarely thought too long before making a decision, usually jumping right in. But this time, she might have been a little too
Lucy
.

At least her intentions had been good.

She'd just wanted to help Mattie, not ruin her own newly improved relationship with Graham. Or hurt Mattie's chance to do dance in the future. She hadn't even thought about that. What if Graham never let Mattie come back and it was all Lucy's fault? That would be awful. Mattie really did seem to love it.

She sent up another of her trademark help-fix-what-I've-already-done prayers, hoping God could help her and Mattie out. They could certainly use some divine intervention.

Lucy corralled Mattie and Belle—the other little girl from class who hadn't been picked up by her parents yet—into the waiting area so that the next class could start. Just as they walked into the space lined with chairs and couches, the door to the studio opened and a female police officer walked in.

Panic climbed Lucy's throat. Graham wouldn't really... He hadn't...