True-Blue Cowboy Christmas (4 page)

Maybe that little girl wasn't in express danger, but she needed something. Or someone. Summer knew all too well what feeling alone and stuck was like. She raised her chin, because she was not going to be intimidated. She'd had her fair share of that, too. “Your daughter seems like she needs a friend.”

He took a few steps toward her, his hands curling into fists. For the first time, Summer realized they were alone. Isolated. He could do…anything. This was not good. She should be afraid. She should run.

“Stay away from my daughter,” he said in a low voice.

His daughter. Who wanted to dream about gold glitter rain and explore and… For that little girl's sake, Summer had to pretend like she wasn't scared. And maybe for herself too. “Your smart and charming daughter showed up at my place. Twice.
Twice
completely unsupervised. Do not try to blame this on me. Maybe she's trying to get away from
you
.”

* * *

It was only when the woman took a few steps back that Thack realized he'd been advancing on her like some kind of bully. It was when she said those last four words—
get away from you
—that the Shaw woman gutted him completely.

She likely had no idea what she'd done, and he hoped to keep it that way, but she might as well have taken his heart out of his chest and stomped on it a few times for good measure.

“I would appreciate it if you didn't encourage her,” he managed to force out. He attempted not to sound like he wanted to throttle something, but he doubted he succeeded.

“And
I'd
appreciate it if I wasn't blamed for your lack of supervision. How safe is it to leave a little girl to her own devices?”

“Where do you get off, coming onto my property and lecturing me about my parenting skills?” He'd beat himself over being a dick later, but for now it felt pretty damn good to talk to someone who didn't treat him with kid gloves and tut-tut over how hard he must have it.

Six-plus years after the fact, he was still the poor widower who needed help and sympathy. This Summer Shaw woman either didn't know or didn't care, and he was quite happy with either situation.

“I walked her back home because she showed up at my place. What would you have had me do? Send her back without making sure she got here safely? Or perhaps I should have called the police.”

“You don't get how Blue Valley works, do you?”

She frowned at that, dark eyebrows drawing together. Then she closed her eyes, took a dramatic deep breath in, and then an equally dramatic one out. She opened her eyes, mouth curving into a pretty smile like they were suddenly on friendly terms.

“She's a little girl who wants to explore and feel free. I'm sure we've somehow gotten off on the wrong foot, but she's a sweet girl. She's welcome to come over. I'm home most mornings, and—”

“You honestly expect me to let my only child go to a stranger's weird-butt caravan in the woods?”

“Did you just say weird…butt?”

“No. I… Weird-ass. I meant ass.”

She pressed her lips together like she was trying not to laugh, which frustrated him even more, because it
was
ridiculous. It was just… He'd made a conscientious effort not to swear in front of Kate, and sometimes that spread to other conversations. And that was
so
not the point.

“The fact you'd even suggest I let my daughter spend time with a woman I don't know, a woman all and sundry in Blue Valley have theories about, proves how little you understand about children.”

Her dark eyes widened. “There are theories about me?”

“Yes, there are theories about the mysterious Shaw daughter. Did you think you were invisible?”

The scowl was back. “You are not a very nice person.”

He looked at her for a moment because she seemed dead serious. Her return insult when he was being a total asshole to her was that he was not a very nice person. He tried not to feel guilty.

“And you are a strange girl, Summer Shaw. Now, I have work to do. Stay away from my daughter. I'd hate to have to call the police myself.”

“She deserves better than you.” She seemed so sure about that, and again this stranger was stomping all over his heart. Because she was right. Of course Kate deserved better than a stressed father and a sick grandfather. She deserved fairies and glitter and exploration and a mother who was alive and a grandmother who didn't cry at the sight of her.

She deserved the world, and he couldn't give it to her. The only consolation was the fact no father could give the world to his daughter, no much how much he might want to.

“And I am not a
girl
,” Summer added, hands on her hips.

Thack raised an eyebrow at her, giving her a look up and down, and not at all comfortable with the odd jump in his gut. It wasn't… No, he just hadn't had breakfast yet, and she'd screwed up his schedule.

The hips she had her hands fisted on weren't girlish, and the tight red sweatshirt and equally tight orange yoga pants accentuated a very…womanlike figure. There were plenty of women he wasn't attracted to. The ones he was interested in—which did not include
her
—he didn't have the time for.

“I'm almost twenty-four. I've probably been more places in my life than you'll ever hope to see. I have been through plenty. Besides”—she waved a hand at him, kind of a sweep from his boots to his hat as she readjusted the weird knitted wrap thing she had around her shoulders—“you can't be
that
much older than me.”

“Life made me older.”

She snorted. “You know nothing about me.”

“Ditto.”

They regarded each other, and something passed between them in the moment, as though they were sharing the same thought.

You know nothing about me. Not what's happened. Not my flaws or fears or sad sack of a past.

He was imagining things. Pretty, smiling women—especially ones who made Kate think of fairy queens—weren't bogged down with the kind of baggage he was.

“I'm not a bad person,” she said into the heavy silence, her voice hushed, almost reverent. Like being a good person was all she had.

Luckily, it helped snap him out of the moment. She wasn't the enemy any more than anything else was, but that didn't mean she wasn't a threat. “Kate is my
everything
. I make every choice in my life with the thought of keeping her safe. Your word that you're not bad isn't good enough. It never could be. That isn't personal.”

When she didn't respond and didn't move, he strode past her. Because he didn't have time for all this. He had a daughter to feed and lecture and hug and protect—and make a damn fairy Halloween costume for.

So, he left Summer behind in the stables, because he didn't have any interest in spending any more time with the strange, irritating,
beautiful
—nope—woman who was currently nothing but a thorn in his side.

Summer knew she should go. Kate's father had made a few decent points—she
was
a stranger, and wouldn't her life have been different if her mother had cared about letting strangers into their lives?

On the other hand, the little blond girl who'd shown up at her caravan wanted to explore and dream of adventure, and Summer also understood how vital that could be.

But the bottom line was that Summer had no claim on Kate and was nothing to Kate's father, who…

She didn't know. She couldn't quite figure out what her conflicted feelings meant. Nothing, really. Probably nothing. He was just a man, one she didn't know. She couldn't even remember his first name. Hank? Tack?

Like Mel and Caleb and Delia had all warned her, she shouldn't be pushing herself into Kate's world. This didn't have anything to do with her, and after talking to that man both in front of Kate and alone, she didn't get the sense that anything sinister was happening here.

But that girl and this place tugged at something else inside her, and she'd made it to Montana by listening to those kinds of feelings. She'd opened up to the universe, and it had brought her the life she'd dreamed of.

So she couldn't make herself leave, but she would need a better explanation for… Darn it, what was his name? Calling him “Mr. Lane” seemed so weird. He might have a daughter in elementary school and obviously a lot on his plate, but he didn't look
that
much older than her.

Not that these conflicting feelings had anything at all to do with how he looked. Or the weird crackling energy between them that she might have called attraction with just about anyone else. He'd been vaguely threatening toward her, and bullying was
not
attractive.

All that didn't matter, though. What mattered was following her intuition, because it hadn't steered her wrong before. So, how to convince Mr. Grumpy Cowboy Pants his daughter would be perfectly safe with her?

She took a step toward the outside, just as someone else stepped into the stable. It was an older man, tall if a little paunchy. He had dark hair sprinkled with silver and an almost pure-white mustache. He looked at her, then to where Grumpy Cowboy Dad had gone, then back at her. His lips twitched into a smile. “Ah,” he said in a gravelly voice that sounded a lot older than he looked. “You must be the Shaw girl.”

Summer smiled—she couldn't help it in the face of some kindness. “And you must be the grandpa with the yelling TV shows.”

“Ah, yes, that would be me.”

He didn't say anything else, just kept…studying her. It was unnerving, but it didn't register on what she tended to call her creep-meter. Which was odd. Most extended staring landed on the meter at least a little.

“I was just bringing Kate back,” she offered. “She was at my door this morning.”

The older man sighed. “Poor thing wants to roam and explore. She's got magic on her mind.” Unlike the younger Lane man, the grandfather seemed to admire those attributes in his granddaughter.

He cocked his head. “You know, I talked to your dad the other day.”

Summer straightened. She couldn't help it. Any mention of her father made her unsure and uncomfortable.

“Said you were a nice girl. Try real hard, always a kind word for anybody who crosses your path.”

“He said all that?”

“Was he lying?”

“No, I just didn't know he noticed.” Or that he'd bother to tell anyone if he had.

“He's a different man than he used to be.”

“So I hear,” she muttered before she could stop herself. She tried to soften it with a bright smile, but truth be told, she was tired of hearing that her father had changed. All that seemed to mean was she'd missed the years where he'd been…present…involved.

You mean,
if
he's your father
. She shook her head. Of course he was. The math added up, and she looked so much like Mel. Surely that wasn't
all
Mom's genes.

“You know,” the man said, shaking a finger at her. “I have a good feeling about you, girl.”

“Do you?”

This time he jabbed his finger into his chest. “And I
always
trust my gut feeling. Always. Do you?”

“I've been trying to.”

“All right, then. You'll come with me.”

“I…will?”

He was already striding out of the stables, but he looked over his shoulder at her. “You like our Kate, don't you?”

“She seems like a sweet, imaginative girl.” Summer started following him, having no idea what she was getting herself into.

“She's a wild stallion. Analogy might be a little odd, but the girl wants to roam, and locking her up isn't going to change that, no matter what my son thinks. You might be just what we need.”

“Oh. But…”
Need
. She missed it, that sense of having a purpose, the feeling you could do something for someone. Ever since Delia moved into the Shaw main house, Summer had felt less and less like they
needed
her. Sure, they liked her. Every once in a while she was almost knocked flat by a feeling that had eluded her for her whole previous life.
Belonging
. But she missed that feeling of someone needing her. Even if that need had been warped and wrong, her mother's dependence and manipulation had at least been a comfort when Mom wasn't in one of her violent moods.

Oh, you are one messed-up little girl
.

The grandfather strode right up to the pretty, gleaming house, taking the stairs with hard, authoritative strides. Summer couldn't quite bring herself to mount the stairs. As much as she wanted to follow her intuition, she knew what lay on the other side of that door.

Mr. Lane looked back at her as she stood still at the bottom of the stairs. He arched an eyebrow. “You coming, girl?”

Summer paused, the internal debate not easily won or lost. “He's not going to like this.”

The man grinned, turning the knob and pushing the door open. “I know. That's half the fun.”

* * *

The minute Thack had gone inside, he'd made quick work of serving Kate breakfast, then settled into a chair with her Halloween costume and his damn needle and thread. He wasn't going to think about where Dad had disappeared to, and he definitely wasn't going to think about Summer Shaw.

He tried not to swear as he attempted to attach wings he'd bought off the Internet onto one of Kate's sparkly pajama shirts. Normally making her Halloween costume was his evening chore, but he was running out of time. If only he hadn't put it off till the last minute, he might have been able to order a fully made fairy queen costume, but he'd been so wrapped up in organizing roofing repairs…

Thack rubbed the back of his neck. He'd tried Velcro that he could just stick onto either side of the fabric, but the wings still drooped. They looked like they still would even after his current sewing efforts.

He sighed. “I'm sorry, Katie Pie. I don't know if this is quite what you had in mind.”

Kate hopped away from the table where she'd taken not one bite of the bagel he'd slathered in cream cheese for her. “Can I try it on?”

Thack squatted to eye level, fitting the button-up shirt over the long-sleeved T-shirt she already had on.

He buttoned it up, frowning at the way the wings still drooped. But Kate squealed and hopped before he'd even buttoned up the entire shirt.

“I have wings, Daddy! Sparkly wings.” She threw her arms around his neck and squeezed, planting a loud kiss on his cheek.

Though she wiggled in an effort to make her wings flap, Thack held her close. His little bundle of glittery sunshine. She wanted wings to fly, and he didn't know how to give that to her without
losing
her the way he'd lost so much.

“When I say trick-or-treat, can I throw glitter at people who open the door?”

Thack dropped his forehead to her narrow shoulder. “I think we might have to save the glitter throwing for home.”

Kate wriggled out of his grasp and pranced around, jumping to make the wings move. They weren't perfect, but they were staying on the shirt, and Kate was happy, which was the most important thing.

When he heard the door open and Dad's heavy footsteps in the hall, he didn't think much of it…until he heard conversation. Dad's raspy voice, followed by a soft female one.

He frowned. He'd thought Dad was off doing the woodworking they both pretended Thack didn't know about because the old work shed triggered Dad's emphysema.

But apparently he'd been somewhere collecting a woman? Leaving Kate completely unsupervised this morning long enough that she could run off to Summer's—

Wait.

He was about to cut them off at the pass before Kate saw anything, but they entered and Kate squealed.

“Summer's here!”

“You are a bad penny,” Thack muttered.

“What's that mean?” Kate demanded.

“It means your father has forgotten any kind of manners,” Dad said, the boom in his voice completely undercut by the hoarseness of his emphysema. And yet, Thack practically winced because he knew what that tone meant.

“Apologize, Thackery.”

He was twenty-eight damn years old, and his father had just scolded him and called him by his full first name. Worst of all? He had to apologize because Kate was watching him with wide, impressionable eyes.

“I apologize for my rude greeting,” he managed through gritted teeth.

“Um.”

“Now, come on in, Ms. Shaw.” Dad led Summer closer to the counter at the center of the kitchen, and Thack had to breathe through the desire to order this woman out of his house and lecture his father for the millionth time. Because Kate had taken a seat at the table and was eating her bagel
finally
, and he was worried enough about her eating habits.

If she was eating, he would suck it up. And yell at his father in private. Tomorrow. When Kate was at school. As for Summer… He didn't have the last clue what to do about Summer Shaw.

“Why don't you explain to the rest of us what you're up to?” Thack managed to get out the words in a tone he hoped passed for something not as near “undeniably exasperated” as he felt.

“Summer has agreed to work for us.”

Summer's eyes widened, but she didn't say anything or react in any other way. Mostly she just stood there, looking like an oddly colorful statue.

Thack felt
nothing
like a statue. He felt like…one of those geysers. He was Old Faithful-ing all over his damn kitchen. He met his father's gaze. “You have crossed a line.”

“My house,” Dad replied, as easygoing and unaffected as ever.

Dad's house. Dad's ranch. Oh, Thack could argue it was
theirs
. Could argue family and legacy and all that, but he didn't care. None of that mattered. What mattered was that Dad bringing a stranger in here affected
his
daughter, and
that
he did not have to sit back and take.

“No, I'm sorry. You can't strong-arm me by announcing this in front of Kate.” Thack was downright furious with his father for trying, but he wouldn't be manipulated. Not on this. “We do not know this woman.”

“Who said anything about Kate? I'm hiring her as a housekeeper.”

Summer blinked. “You…are?”

Thack almost,
almost
felt bad for the woman. She'd just gotten swept up in one of Dad's grand plans where he listened to absolutely no one. He paid no mind to what was right or prudent, and just did whatever he wanted.

Because he had that kind of luxury. Thack did not.

“Sure, gotta iron out a schedule, and wages, of course. But if Thack won't hire help for what he needs help with”—Dad looked pointedly at Kate—“then I'll hire you for the other stuff.”

“Well, honestly, it's kept very clean.” Summer gestured around the kitchen. “I'm not sure you—”

“That boy works like a dog to keep this place sparkling. Oh, we have a cleaning lady for the particulars, but I'm more talking about cooking, running errands. You know, I make these little figurines and I sell some at the Old Town Emporium. In fact, we'll just think of you as
my
assistant. How's that?”

Dad smiled at Summer, then at Thack.

“Katherine—”

Kate blew out a sigh, pushing her plate back. Only a small chunk of bagel left, thank Christ. “I know. I know. Go to my room.” She slid off her chair and trudged toward the living room, but Thack didn't miss the sly little smile she sent Summer. Because she and Dad were so sure they were going to get what they wanted, even if it was the worst possible thing for all of them.

Not this time. Thack was not going to be steamrolled. Kate was getting older, pushing more boundaries every day, and if he didn't stand his ground, he was going to get trampled. Someone had to keep her safe, and considering the sad state Dad had been in during Thack's teenage years, Thack shouldn't be surprised at having to be the responsible one now. Ever since Mom had died, Thack had been in charge—of himself, of the ranch—and every time he'd wandered, every time
he'd
ignored a responsibility, a grave consequence had been waiting for him.

Thack would do everything in his power to make sure Kate did not suffer one of
his
grave consequences. If it meant constantly butting heads with Dad, if it meant being not particularly nice to this woman, well…Kate's safety was more than worth all that.

Dad had gotten out a pen and paper while Thack watched to make sure Kate really did go up to her room. When he turned back to Dad and Summer, they were hunched over the table talking about money and days of the week.

“On the weekends I play music at Pioneer Spirit,” she was saying.