Thankful for Love (6 page)

He watched her until her car was out of sight before he headed back to the restaurant.

He tried not to think about what had happened when he touched her. But he couldn't. Tonight he'd seen her for the first time as a beautiful woman, not just the pretty girl who took care of his kids. Images of her silky black hair free and falling over coppery brown skin flashed through his mind. Skin that would be soft and smooth to the touch. His touch. While they were both in his bed.

Wait. Why the hell was he was thinking about her hair or the feel of her skin? He hadn't thought about a woman in that way for so long he had pretty much assumed the possibility was, sadly, all in his past or so far in his future as to be virtually unattainable. This was a hell of an inconvenient time for the reemergence of his heretofore-slumbering libido, not to mention an inappropriate person to have awakened it. Besides, he was way too old for her. Or she was too young for him. Either way, thinking about hitting on a person who worked for him was not only out of character but too cliché to consider.

He put any thought of acting on his impulses out of his head and went into a meeting about harvest schedules and grain prices. Things he knew more about than he did what to do about being unexpectedly attracted to the kid wrangler he saw every day in every room of his house.

When Quanna let herself into the house the next morning, it was quieter than usual. She wasn't sure whether it meant things were going smoothly in spite of the drama of the night before or if it was the calm before another storm. She'd been there about half an hour, making coffee and getting breakfast ready, before anyone appeared.

Daniel came downstairs first.

“Dad says I owe you another apology.”

“Did he?”

“I got you in trouble by not owning up to what I'd done. But I told him last night on the way to Aunt Barb's. Honest I did. I don't think he's mad at you anymore.”

“He isn't. We ran into each other last night after you went to the doctor's, and he told me about your conversation. We're fine.” She handed the cereal bowls to him. “Why don't you put these out on the dining room table? I'll bring the placemats. I think Lucas will be more comfortable eating out there with his cast and his ankle.”

“First ... uh ... I'm sorry. You shouldn't have gotten yelled at for something I did.”

“I accept your apology. Now, let's get breakfast going before your carpool gets here.” She was in the doorway of the dining room when she felt, rather than saw, Jack in the kitchen. From the sounds, he was pouring himself a cup of coffee.

“I'm driving them to school today, Quanna. I want to talk to Lucas's teacher about how we're going to manage this.” He paused for a moment. “Can I get you some coffee?”

Without turning, she said, “Yes, thanks, that would be great.”

“Black, one sugar, right?”

She was so surprised he'd noticed how she took her coffee she almost didn't respond. “Ah, right. Thanks.” She handed the placemats to Daniel to continue setting the table and returned to the kitchen.

“Here you go,” Jack said and handed her coffee in the mug she usually used. He knew her favorite. Another surprise. His fingers brushed hers as she took the cup, and the same frisson of electricity she'd felt when he'd touched her the night before startled her fingers. She had to concentrate not to drop the mug. When she looked up, she saw his eyes had darkened and knew he'd felt it, too.

Fortunately, the patient came limping into the room, demanding attention with sighs and a pathetic “good morning.”

“Wow. A bright blue cast. How cool is that,” Quanna said. “You'll be the hit of your class.”

The attempt at being pathetic disappeared in a grin and a wave of the affected arm. “I got to pick the color. It's made of glass ... something.”

“Fiberglass,” Jack and Quanna said in unison, quickly glancing at each other, then just as quickly looking away. Quanna was sure she was blushing.

Lucas didn't seem to notice. “The doctor had five colors to pick from. Do we have a Sharpie I can take to school so my friends can sign it?”

Grateful for the excuse to get away from the sudden heat that seemed to be shimmering between her and her boss, Quanna rummaged through the junk drawer in the breakfast bar and came up with the requested Sharpie.

“How about you start on your breakfast before you plan out the autographs on your cast?” Jack said. “I'll take out the cereal if you'll get the milk and juice, Quanna.”

“Who's gonna help me pour stuff?” Lucas asked, the pathetic tone reappearing. “I can't use my right hand.”

“I'll help until you get used to using your left hand,” Jack answered.

And with that, the morning routine kicked in and the atmosphere lightened. For the moment.

• • •

Within a week, the new normal for the family was as familiar as the old normal had once been. Lucas seemed to revel in his popularity at school, which had already been high because he was such a congenial kid but was now over the top thanks to his tale of horseback adventure and the resulting blue cast. He also undoubtedly enjoyed the attention he was getting from his father and brother, the latter mostly out of guilt for being the cause of his injury.

He coerced Quanna into being his homework scribe after school. He solved the problems and did the thinking; she did the writing. He still complained about homework, especially math, even with her help. His “theory” was it was stupid to learn something a computer could do for you. In an attempt to get him to see the usefulness of what he was complaining about, Quanna finally asked one day, “What are you interested in, if not math and science?”

 “The Roman gods and goddesses,” Lucas said. “Or Egyptology. I think I'll study ancient Egypt when I grow up.”

“Yeah, because studying dead Egyptians is such a useful thing to do,” his brother, who had finished his homework without complaint, muttered.

Quanna was afraid the conversation was headed for a rare quarrel so she intervened quickly. “Archaeologists use math and science in their work. If you want to be one, you have to learn the tools they use.”

“I'll hire someone to do the math. I'll do the research.” Lucas dismissed the argument with a wave of his casted hand.

Sighing, Quanna said, “I give up. Your dad can help with the rest of your math after dinner, which I better get to preparing. Then I should get home and finish the reading for my class.”

“But we haven't worked on my essay for Ms. Eagleman yet,” Lucas said. “And the sloppy copy's due tomorrow.”

“You can work on it after dinner,” Jack said as he joined them. “We can't keep Quanna here all evening because you've been putting off writing it by complaining about your math homework.”

“But Quanna's good at essays, Dad.” He turned his big brown eyes to Quanna and begged. “Please, please, please stay for dinner and help me with my essay. Please.”

Jack said, “You're welcome to stay, Quanna. But I don't want you to think you have to because Lucas is begging.”

“I don't want to intrude on family time.” She tried to sound firm in her refusal even though the thought of eating dinner with Jack was more attractive than it should be. To Lucas, she said, “Your dad can help you with the essay, can't he?”

“No. It's about him,” Lucas said. “Can't you stay this once? Please?”

“That's five pleases,” Jack said. “Some kind of record.” His smile was more inviting than any number of pleases.

“I guess I'm staying then,” Quanna said.

Sitting at the table with the three Richardson males, catching Jack's eye when one of the boys said something funny, earning a grin from him when she said something he liked, was both fun and a challenge. On one hand, she loved the attention he was paying her, which felt more personal than professional. On the other, she had to keep her feelings at bay while still engaging as the boys' “kid wrangler.”

The other challenge was to keep from getting caught in the warmth of being part of a family, especially this family, with a man she found so attractive and kids she had learned to love. She barely tasted the food she ate trying to keep her conflicting emotions in balance.

After dinner, Lucas was excused from dish duty while Quanna helped him craft the first draft of his essay. It was a relief to have Jack in the kitchen during this process, as Lucas's assignment was to write about someone who had been important in his life. As Lucas had said, he'd chosen his dad, which wasn't great for Quanna's peace of mind.

The exercise began with a laundry list of Jack Richardson's virtues. And as Quanna already knew, he had many, although it was tempting to add a few to Lucas's list. Not only was he a great dad who looked after his boys with care and love, as Lucas pointed out, but his protective streak extended to women alone in bars. And he was the fantasy hero of half the staff of the Golden Years Retirement Center. But that probably wasn't an appropriate addition to his son's essay, although it was pretty high on Quanna's list of his virtues.

• • •

Jack stayed in the kitchen after he and Daniel loaded the dishwasher. He told his son it was to finish wiping up the counters and set up the coffeepot for the morning. It was actually so he could eavesdrop on the conversation in the dining room. He told himself he was curious about what his son was writing about him, but he knew he really wanted to hear what Quanna would say.

What he heard made the eavesdropping well worth it. Lucas talked about what a great dad he had, and Quanna agreed that he had an “amazing father.” As an additional highlight, Luke made a couple jokes and she laughed, giving Jack the chance to hear the musical sound of her laugh, which he'd grown to like. He listened as she gently prodded Lucas to get ideas from him and to organize them into something resembling an essay. Between his pleasure at what Lucas said and Quanna's reaction to it, his ego was stroked quite nicely before the hour was up and the draft Lucas needed for the next day was ready to turn in.

“I'll let your dad finish up your math with you,” Quanna said. She picked up the textbooks and notebooks she'd piled on the sideboard. “Time for me to get home and do my own homework.”

She was headed for the front door when Jack interrupted her departure. “Let me walk you out. I want to talk to you.” He noticed she seemed to walk far ahead of him through the living room, perhaps in a hurry to get away.

He followed her to her car. The sweet smell of the plains mingled with the spicy smell he'd begun to associate with being around her. It was a combination hard to resist.

When they got to her car, he touched her arm to turn her toward him. “I don't think I've told you how much I appreciate what you've done helping Lucas since he broke his arm. Both the boys love having you around. So do I.” He added quickly, “Appreciate having you here, I mean.”

“I'm glad you're happy with my work.”

He noticed she emphasized the words
my work
. “We're more than happy. All three of us. You've made a big difference in our lives.”

She seemed nervous, dropping her gaze and jingling her car keys. “Thank you for saying such kind things.”

“Not kind. The truth.”

He shifted gears away from a subject that seemed to be embarrassing for her. “There's something else I wanted to talk to you about. I don't want the boys to get excited before I decide if it's going to work out, which is why I wanted to do this out here.” He ran his hands through his hair. “Before the boys' mother was sick, my brother and I used to swap kids every summer. Sam, my brother, wants his boys to have some appreciation for the kind of life we lived growing up. After his boys were here for a couple weeks, I sent Daniel to the city. Luke would be old enough now to go, too.”

There was an awkward pause as he tried to figure out how to say what he wanted to say. “The thing is, Sam called today and asked if I had thought about reinstating the tradition. It wasn't possible when Anne was taking care of the boys. She could never handle four of them. Not sure too many people would want to, actually.”

“But you'd like me to,” she finished for him. “I'd love it.”

“You'd take on all four of them for two weeks?”

“If your nephews are anything like your sons, it won't be a problem.”

“Actually, they're a bit older. Maybe a bit more civilized. And they wouldn't be with you all day. Usually in the summer, the boys help me all morning and aren't around the house until after lunch. So, if you're sure...”

“I am.”

“Thank you. I'll call Sam and tell him it's a go. Of course your pay will increase the two weeks Sammy and Jack are here.”

“Your brother named his sons for the two of you?”

“Yeah, gets a little complicated when we're all together, but it was an honor. Anyway, I'll increase your pay for those two weeks and give you vacation with pay the two weeks Lucas and Daniel are gone.”

“That's way too generous, Jack. I can't take two whole weeks off and expect you to pay me.”

“No, it's not. You'll earn it, believe me, with four boys here.”

“How about I work half time while they're in Portland?”

“Two days a week with pay for all five. And I'll make sure you get overtime pay for tonight, too.”

“Please, I don't want to be paid for tonight. I stayed because I wanted to. And staying here for dinner meant I didn't have to go home and cook.” She put her hand up as if to ward off the money.

He captured it with both of his. It was a big mistake. He hadn't counted on his body's reaction to touching her. Completely inappropriate thoughts crowded his mind. Like what it would be like to touch her cheek or kiss her luscious pink lips. What her body would feel like pressed against his.