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Daddy For Hire
Joey Light
DEBUT AUTHOR"Classic romance, tender as a good-night kiss. Joey Light adds a charming new voice to the genre."–New York Times bestselling author Nora RobertsMALE NANNY WANTED…FAST!Abigail Roberts's sons needed a male influence. So she placed an ad for a male nanny. But the hunk who applied for the job was not what she expected. Tall, dark and handsome, he was her every fantasy. Letting him move in would surely be her downfall….READY AND WILLING HUNK AT YOUR SERVICE, MA'AMHaving an apron tied around his muscled waist, feather dusting and making peanut butter and jelly sandwiches wasn't Jack's style. Yet he knew that becoming a nanny would provide his young daughter with the love and warmth of a family. And soon Jack realized he, too, needed this family. Now he had to convince Abigail to turn his part-time position into a lifetime partnership!DEBUT AUTHOR



Table of Contents
Cover Page (#u7c1ccca7-0a67-54b3-bcc5-52f638e224e7)
Excerpt (#u6e486000-6889-5de0-8175-f8ab7ced6ab9)
Dear Reader (#ude81e259-a59a-59e4-b90a-8e02ce1ffeab)
Title Page (#u78901b3c-7e5c-5c50-8dcb-47f6a366ab1a)
Dedication (#u05a50d65-3852-51de-ba51-0ef64f6a0fba)
About the Author (#u45b12e6f-46b5-5bcd-8b41-bbab43bd6067)
HOW TO MAKE YOUR PART-TIME MALE NANNY POSITION A FULL-TIME DAD AND HUSBAND CAREER (#ua0f173d4-749f-5d2c-a969-bf442f65b745)
Chapter One (#u070df039-9852-5c2d-b296-8abc8853e209)
Chapter Two (#u44ea17d9-b67f-585a-9ac1-13f64b967218)
Chapter Three (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Four (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Five (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Six (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Seven (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Eight (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Nine (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Ten (#litres_trial_promo)
Copyright (#litres_trial_promo)

“For a minute I almost thought we were a real family.”
Abby didn’t know how to respond. She didn’t want to face reality. “Good night, Jack.” She made a move to walk past him.

His voice was low and she barely heard his “Thank you.”

She stopped. “For what?”

“I know we’re just stand-ins for each other. That you and I aren’t married and raising these kids, that all this is temporary. But it’s so nice that it’s hard to believe it’s pretend.”

She was moved by his words. But Jack was right—this was only temporary. She turned to go before she did something she’d regret.

He didn’t move as she swept past him and into her room. He heard her shut the door and gently move away. Good thing. If she had stayed, he would’ve made a fool of himself and kissed her—again.
Dear Reader (#ulink_9080dcc1-7cfb-59b4-bf0b-65a73befefdd),
In 1993 beloved, bestselling author Diana Palmer launched the FABULOUS FATHERS series with Emmett (SR#910), which was her 50th Silhouette book. Readers fell in love with that Long, Tall Texan who discovered the meaning of love and fatherhood, and ever since, the FABULOUS FATHERS series has been a favorite. And now, to celebrate the publication of the 50th FABULOUS FATHERS book, Silhouette Romance is very proud to present a brand-new novel by Diana Palmer, Mystery Man, and Fabulous Father Canton Rourke.
Silhouette Romance is just chock-full of special books this month! We’ve got Miss Maxwell Becomes a Mom, book one of Donna Clayton’s new miniseries, THE SINGLE DADDY CLUB. And Alice Sharpe’s Missing: One Bride is book one of our SURPRISE BRIDES trio, three irresistible books by three wonderful authors about very unusual wedding situations.
Rounding out the month is Jodi O’Donnell’s newest title, Real Marriage Material, in which a sexy man of the land gets tamed. Robin Wells’s Husband and Wife…Again tells the tale of a divorced couple reuniting in a delightful way. And finally, in Daddy for Hire by Joey Light, a hunk of a man becomes the most muscular nanny there ever was, all for love of his little girl.
Enjoy Diana Palmer’s Mystery Man and all of our wonderful books this month. There’s just no better way to start off springtime than with six books bursting with love!
Regards,
Melissa Senate
Senior Editor
Silhouette Books
Please address questions and book requests to:
Silhouette Reader Service
U.S.: 3010 Walden Ave., P.O. Box 1325, Buffalo, NY 14269
Canadian: P.O. Box 609, Fort Erie, Ont L2A 5X3

Daddy for Hire
Joey Light


www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
To Nora
For lighting my way down a blind passageway
(with limo rides from MD to NY, champagne cocktails
at 10 a.m. and shopping trips to Bendel’s & Bruno’s)
Seriously, thank you, friend

JOEY LIGHT
is married to her high school sweetheart and together, on a small farm in western Maryland, they raised four sons: a pilot/banker, a small business owner, a parole officer and a fireman. Joey’s favorite place to write is a 156-year-old log cabin where her closest friend has made a place for her to wallow in her imagination while overlooking the Antietam battlefield. There, she climbs a ladder to get to the computer upstairs. Ms. Light loves music from Garth to Beethoven, fireplaces and full moons. Her first book was nominated for Best First Book and Best Kismet by Romantic Times. She loves to hear from her readers, so drop her a line! You can write to her c/o Silhouette Books, 300 E. 42nd Street, 6th Floor, New York, NY 10017.

HOW TO MAKE YOUR PART-TIME MALE NANNY POSITION A FULL-TIME DAD AND HUSBAND CAREER (#ulink_27c308c3-97ed-533c-9822-23f4b8b05537)
by Jack Murdock

1 Take good care of your sexy boss’s kids— they’re her pride and joy.
2 Impress your irresistible boss with your handyman-around-the-house skills—what woman can resist a jack-of-all-trades?
3 Side with the boys on keeping a stray dog— you want them to like you, too!
4 Give your sultry boss a shoulder to lean on— she’s had to be both mom and dad for too long.
5 Show her what a desirable woman she is— lots of compliments…and seductive kisses.
6 Propose a permanent arrangement!

Chapter One (#ulink_6b6d59e7-83da-560e-b519-94b0172da52c)
The doorbell rang. Abby stopped in her tracks and groaned. She couldn’t go through with it. She’d changed her mind. It was, after all, a woman’s prerogative.
Sliding the cookie sheet into the oven, she popped the door shut. Pausing to twist the timer to nine minutes, she blew a wisp of hair from her eyes. He was here. The final applicant. Abby brushed cookie dough from her hands with the rooster-adorned dish towel. Untying her apron, she whipped it off and flung it over a chair back and headed toward the front of the house. Thank goodness this silly business could finally come to an end.
A thoughtful, careful woman, Abigail Margaret Roberts was not used to complying with an impulse, in this case a search for a “manny,” or male nanny. She had no idea why she had followed through with this crazy idea.
Desperation, she laughed to herself. Pure and simple. With her two boys, life had become such a patchwork when it should all have been so uncomplicated. She had grabbed at straws. And now the last straw was about to enter her house.
Abby had tried to call this applicant twice to cancel, but there had been no answer either time. Who in this day and age didn’t own an answering machine? She would much rather have canceled this over the phone than in person.
As was her habit, she stopped in the hallway to check her appearance in the full-length mirror. Unruly hair escaped her ponytail. Her cheeks were flushed due to the heat in the kitchen. She looked a mess. Too late to fix that now.
Each and every previous interview had been a disaster for one reason or another. The applicants were simply weird, or her boys had acted up like little devils. One man had even scared the daylights out of her. Gaunt and dark, he looked like something out of a Dracula movie. She was ruing the day she had ever decided to entertain such a foolhardy thought.
Yet it had all started so simply. A day off. A beautiful, sunshiny day just for herself. The boys were in school, and it had just seemed like a great time to putter in her flower garden or lounge around on the porch.
Back then it was just a tiny seed of an idea when she happened to turn on the television that afternoon and catch a talk show all about men, from many different walks of life, who were turning out to be wonderful nannies. And since there was no longer a man in this house…the idea had blossomed into something more.
The door chime sounded again. Abby looked from her disorderly reflection to her watch. Well, he was prompt if maybe a bit impatient. Turning toward the door, pulling in a determined breath, she took hold of the knob and yanked the heavy oak door open.
Instantly she was looking straight into the dark abyss of the wide-open mouth of the Tasmanian Devil. It adorned a blindingly white T-shirt that clung to a very broad chest. She looked up to the extrawide shoulders that stretched the fabric of the T-shirt.
Tilting her head back even farther, she finally caught sight of the face of the man wearing the cartoon shirt. She felt a jolt akin to touching the wrong thingamajig in the fuse box while standing in a tub of ice-cold water. Up to her knees.
He literally took her breath away.
Towering a good foot over her five-foot-four frame, he was lean, dark and handsome. Like something straight out of a fortune-teller’s best conjuration.
He couldn’t be the manny applicant. More like this gorgeously tanned guy was peddling leftover blacktop from a road job nearby. Abby looked past him to the street. No big, red construction truck idled at the curb.
Totally confused now, she looked back at him. His wavy mop of hair was the color of rich walnut. His cheekbones slashed across his face toward a nose that probably had been broken once. Twice maybe. Shadowy brown eyes were flecked with gold torchlight. Her gaze fell to his mouth, and when it curved into a slightly crooked smile, she felt her hormone level quickly bubble up and spill over like some unidentifiable potion in a mad scientist’s beaker set over an open flame.
His mouth quirked down at one corner when he grinned. His upper lip was all but hidden by a thick mustache. Longish sideburns completed the picture of a desperado. All he needed was a cowboy hat on his head and a big black horse hitched to a rail.
“Hi.” His voice was lazy. Deep and gravelly like a. hundred-foot waterfall hidden way back in a canyon.
She shut her mouth with a snap and then opened it again. “Hello.”
Abby was two clicks away from telling him she didn’t need anything he was selling, but he could simply stand there and let her look at him as if he had a surplus of time on his hands.
And then the splendid hunk moved, holding out his huge hand. “I’m Jack Murdock. My appointment’s at one with Mrs. Roberts.”
No way was this guy a manny prospect. Absolutely no way! A rodeo champion. A race-car driver. A marauder, maybe. But definitely not a male nanny.
She laid her hand in his, and it was lost inside rockhard, confident fingers. She swallowed hard, moistening her dry tongue.
“I’m Abigail Roberts.” She didn’t know whether to be thankful or sorry.
Her heartbeat did a ridiculous hop, skip, jump and cartwheel in her chest. At that cold realization, she nearly laughed out loud. She wasn’t a teenager anymore. Why was she reacting to this man this way? She’d been around good-looking men before. Her body should show a little more decorum.
She squared her shoulders. Her good-mother sense kicked into gear. This was business. What kind of a man would show up for a job interview in a cartoon shirt and jeans?
She hesitated, but only for a moment. Best to get this over with as soon as possible.
“Come on in, Mr. Murdock.” When he stepped forward, Abby’s attention was drawn downward to a short shadow at his side. A dark-haired little girl in tiny bib overalls was clinging to his leg.
Jack Murdock bent down and took the child’s hand. “This is my daughter, Katie. We come as a pair.”
Abby’s heart did another roll. The child was beautiful. She had curly, shiny hair with a crooked bow clipped above one ear. And his long, tall body made her short, round one seem even more fragile. The little girl’s plump fingers were wrapped around one of his slender ones. She was so cute with those little round cheeks, huge eyes and that inquisitive look.
While Katie was satisfied to stay pressed against her daddy’s faded denims, he reached down like a jolly giant and plucked her up into his arms to settle her on his hip. This brought an instant smile to the child’s face. The beautiful little girl couldn’t be more than two. Katie eyed Abby, sizing her up from under long lashes, her head tucked under her father’s chin.
For a flash, Abby saw the little girl she had yearned for year after year and thought she had gotten over. Obviously she hadn’t. The tug was strong as ever. Abby mentally reined in her unruly emotions.
“Hello, Katie. Right this way, Mr. Murdock.” Abby led them to the bright, airy living room and motioned for them to have a seat.
Abby watched as he scanned the room for the sturdiest piece of furniture. Everything seemed dollhouse size next to him. He chose the sofa and sat cautiously as if his weight would crush the flowers in the linen pattern.
* * *
Jack Murdock balked inwardly. This whole idea went against the grain. And he hadn’t expected his potential boss would be so beautiful. Hadn’t anticipated her having the same effect on him that boiling water would have on ice cubes. But here she was. Big blue eyes, dark brown, almost auburn hair and lots of it. A face like an angel’s, but with a stubborn chin that belied her soft expression.
And she was looking at him with doubt and something else he couldn’t define. It had already been difficult enough applying for the job, hat in hand. Jack was used to taking care of himself, getting things done his way. He never had to ask for anything.
But he had to remember his number-one priority now. And she was sitting in his lap. After months of coping with his new situation, he had finally admitted to himself that he couldn’t be everything she needed. And that alone was a hard thing for a man like Jack to admit to himself. He couldn’t be all his daughter required. Katie was missing a woman in her life. Not one merely paid to see to her basic needs. And Mrs. Roberts, whatever her situation was, had advertised for someone to run around-the-clock surveillance on her boys. So here he was, wishing he were anywhere else.
A man not used to justifying his actions or trying to make anyone understand him, he mentally recoiled at this entire scenario. Bending was new to him. Bargaining was completely unfamiliar. Relinquishing some independence was totally foreign. Yet when once he would have simply stood up and called this a mistake and headed for the door, now he waited.
An aroma wafted into the room to mix with the light floral scent of her perfume. Peanut-butter cookies. The combination made his mouth water, which helped his mood.
Jack forced his attention back to the issue. “I came dressed casually because I wanted your kids to feel at home around me right away. My size alone is intimidating enough sometimes. I hope it doesn’t give you the wrong impression.”
Well, it had, Abby admitted to herself, but not for long. There was something definitely endearing about the way he held his daughter and the way she so confidently clung to him, her tiny fingers fanned out over his muscled forearm. It was very clear they had spent a lot of time together. Each taking care of the other.
There was something very charming about the way he sat so guardedly on her flowered sofa, as if his weight threatened to collapse the supports. It proved he was a thoughtful man. Not an overbearing male who let things fall apart around him.
“Good idea, I suppose. The boys are out back.” Abby folded her hands in her lap.
For some strange reason, she didn’t want to disappoint this man. That realization didn’t help her comportment any. “Mr. Murdock, I tried to reach you several times to save you a trip over here. I’ve changed my mind.” She noticed him stiffen automatically then seem to force himself to relax once again.
She watched him, found herself wondering what his hair felt like. It looked so thick and curly. If they stood real close, would her head come just under his chin? Lordy, what the heck was happening to her? She had to get her wayward, unexpected thoughts under control and focus on business.
“The truth is I hadn’t thought the matter through enough when I set up the interviews. I was acting on a whim, which really isn’t like me at all. I just think the manny situation is a little too radical for me.”
His silence unnerved her. She felt foolish and embarrassed.
He began to stand, swinging Katie into his arms.
Words tumbled out. She wondered, only briefly, why she was so rattled. “A strange man around the house. Trusting my boys to—But of course, that was the idea wasn’t it, to have someone here for them twenty-four hours a day, every day…and—”
“I wouldn’t be a stranger in another five minutes or so.” Jack waited while a few tense seconds slipped by and then figured he’d called in a bad bet. So be it. “But I can see you’re reluctant to give it a shot. Too bad, though. I think it would have benefited all the kids. Katie gets a mother figure, and your boys get a…how did you put it? A male influence.”
Abby focused her attention on Katie. What a precious little child. And no mom? Abby leaned forward and took one of the girl’s hands. Her little fingers grabbed Abby’s and held on. Life was totally unbalanced. She had always wanted a little girl, and she and Jim had tried hard for one more child. Now here was one not much more than a baby who needed a female presence in her life.
The little girl pointed to the life-size statue of a colorfully painted beagle that sat on the hearth. “Barney?”
Her dad chuckled. “No, that’s not Barney, baby. It just looks like him.”
Katie shook her head in denial and wiggled her fingers toward the statue. She tried to slip from her dad’s grip. “’Mere, Barney. ’Mere!”
As naturally as if Katie was her own child, Abby reached for her and took her from her father’s arms, her fingers brushing across his hard muscles, and set the child’s little feet on the floor.
“Let me show you.” Taking her hand, Abby led the child to the statue and hovered as Katie petted the cool, smooth glass and gently poked and inspected the animal until she understood. Abby hadn’t realized until now how much she missed those discovery years when every day the child would uncover something new and exciting.
Smiling her gratefulness to Abby, Katie leaned over and gave the pooch a juicy smooch and then held her arms up for Abby to lift her. Taking her was Abby’s first real mistake of the day.
It was like having her arms full of sunshine. Abby waited for the strong pull on her heart to subside. It didn’t. The little girl was soft and smelled of powder. One small arm snaked around her neck as the other toyed with a button on her shirt, and Abby felt herself mentally sway. She had thought the old yearning had died off with so many other things. Now she knew it had only been hiding.
Jack Murdock was obviously disappointed about the withdrawal of the manny position, but he didn’t discuss it further. Abby was glad he made it easy for her. He took his daughter when Abby offered her and shifted the child to a comfortable position on his hip. He turned to go.
Another chance for Abby to have a little girl around was walking out the door. His hand was on the doorknob. And she really needed to get some sort of routine for her boys set up before school was out.
He was pulling the door open.
Before she was fully aware of what she was doing, Abby’s hand was on Jack Murdock’s arm. “I’ll tell you what. Let’s talk about this some more. This is the end of May. School will be ending in two weeks. I really do have to have some sort of arrangement by then. If my contract goes through for the flower shop, I’ll need someone to be here all the time. Please, sit back down and tell me some more about yourself, Mr. Murdock.”
“Jack.” His grin was guarded as he walked back to his seat on the couch and balanced Katie on one knee. Abby watched as his huge fingers fought to tie a bow in the tiny strings of her loose shoelaces. He had nice hands. A shiver rode her spine.
“I’m Abby. So…Jack, what do you do for a living?”
“I’m a contractor.” He slid a folded envelope from his hip pocket and handed it to her. It was warm from his body. She set it on the end table. “Those are character references. I once owned a very profitable construction company. I’m thirty-five, divorced and have custody of Katie.”
That he had custody spoke highly of the man. Courts just didn’t hand over children to the father for no reason. “Just what do you know about raising boys?” Abby asked.
His smile came easily as he crossed his booted foot over his knee and adjusted Katie to a better balance. “Not much, other than that I just happened to have been one not too long ago.”
“Why did you answer my ad?”
“It seemed like the idea fell right into my lap. I was setting up finger paints for Katie-girl, and there it was in black and white. The classifieds staring right up at me while I spread the morning paper over the table.”
An image immediately formed in Abby’s mind. This rough-and-tumble man down on his knees unfolding the newspaper and smoothing it across a miniature table. Placing the brightly colored pots of paint in a row along the edge next to the bowl of water. Red. Orange. Blue. Green. Yellow. Did he dive into the colors with her? Were they both laughing and covered with all shades by the end of the hour?
She cleared her brain. “So the thought of taking care of kids never occurred to you before then?”
He laughed. “Not hardly. But things change. I have to make sure that Katie has all she needs. You think your boys need a man around. I feel she needs a woman around her. A positive role model, some would call it. You can see that Katie is in one piece. She gets food when she’s hungry, washed when she’s dirty. That’s the easy part. It’s the day-to-day stuff that takes time and care. I try to be both mom and dad but, as you know, it’s a stretch.”
“May I ask where her mother is?”
“Out of state, last I heard. She has visitation but has never exercised that right, nor do I expect she will anytime soon.”
“That’s too bad.”
“Not really. Most women become mothers the day their children are born. It never happened to my ex-wife.”
“So you’ve been taking care of Katie all on your own? What about when you’re working?”
“There hasn’t been much of that. My attention was drawn elsewhere when my family started disintegrating.” He wouldn’t tell her he’d become a brooding, isolated recluse. And by the time he’d realized it, his business was almost in ashes. He’d pulled himself out of it and was now ready to get things back on track.
“My crew disbanded. I’ve been doing odd jobs here and there. A neighbor has been caring for Katie sometimes. I don’t like this arrangement. She needs stability and consistency. And a woman’s loving touch.”
He sneered to himself. Something he, personally, would never need again in his lifetime.
Abby considered what he’d said. How bad could a man be with that line of thinking? He would probably be very good for the boys. And they definitely needed a gentle yet immovable force in their lives. Lately she’d found herself giving in too easily to their demands because she felt she had to make up for them not having a father.
“Do you drink or smoke?”
Again his grin was quick, his look one of toleration. Without hesitation, he answered easily. “I’ve been known to suck down a cold beer or two after mowing the grass and light up a good Havana late at night when I’m sitting on the porch or to keep the gnats away. But I also can grill a heck of a stackburger, toss hoops till I drop and I know all the secrets of successful fishing. I’ve pulled some good eating out of Molly’s Hole over in Sharpsburg.”
He winked at her, and Abby found the intimacy of the gesture sweep clear through her. She brushed the back of her warming neck, pushing damp curls back into the ponytail.
“Okay, this is a quiz.” She smiled at him and sat back. “If one of the boys came home from school with a black eye, given to him by the school bully, how would you handle it?”
Once more, his answer was instantaneous and without doubt. And delivered with a sparkle in his eye. “I’d explain that talking is sometimes better than fighting. Then I’d take him into the backyard and teach him the good ol’ sucker punch—just in case the words didn’t work.”
Abigail hid a smile. “Your views on homework? TV before or after?”
Jack pulled his daughter back on his lap after she slid to the floor and reached out for a china doll that sat on the coffee table.
“Television? Kids should be outside doing things. It’s probably best they get their homework over with so the evening is free.”
“Would you help them with their homework or expect them to figure it out on their own?”
His gaze met hers directly. “I hate homework, but I’d help to a point. I’m sure you do.” He waited patiently for her to deny it. She couldn’t.
“I hope this never happens, but what if you all come home from the store together and you find that one of the kids hasn’t paid for something?”
“Lifted it? Easy. They take it back, apologize. All that Opie Taylor stuff. I’m an honest man, Mrs. Roberts, and I plan on raising honest kids.”
If she had met this man at a party—before her bitter experience with her deceased husband, that is—she would have been fascinated by him immediately. Humor lurked in his eyes, and his easy good nature and confidence were nice to be around.
Little Katie sighed, yawned and leaned back against her dad, her eyes drifting closed. Jack shifted her so she was in a more prone position and added a little bounce with his knee. Abby didn’t miss how natural the movement came to him.
Abigail let the offer roll off her tongue before she could stop it. “I have a couple of spare rooms. You could put her down on one of the beds if you like.”
“Thanks.” He stood up and picked up the dozing child.
Abby led the way, pausing as he headed into one of the spare rooms. Watching from the doorway, she became absorbed in the way this huge man bent, laid the little sleep-limp body down and pulled her shoes off. He glanced around the room and, finding a chair, pulled it over and jammed it against the side of the bed to keep her from rolling off. He pulled a corner of the bedspread over her.
He glanced up just in time to catch Abby staring at him. She couldn’t pull her gaze from his quickly enough. What was this awareness that danced between them? Something so bright…like some bright orange sunspot. Perhaps it was simply a level of understanding about what the other was going through. A familiarity. That was all. Wasn’t it?
The timer went off in the kitchen. Saved by the bell. Abby had forgotten all about the cookies. She scooted toward the back of the house, glad something had jerked her attention back to the here and now.
Jack caught up to her and wound his way through the huge house behind her, recognizing expensive Oriental rugs and Queen Anne furniture. The house smelled of lemon-scented polish and wildflowers.
He liked the way she was dressed. A white sleeveless top was tucked into her well-worn jeans. She wore white sandals that accented her tanned tiny feet. He thought those feet might just fit right in the palm of his hand. Her reddish brown hair swung in a long ponytail that reached to her belt and was tied off with a green ribbon, teasing him to touch it. He wondered what all that gorgeous hair would look like swinging free, falling around her shoulders. She smelled of honeysuckle. Jack Murdock breathed deeply.
The kitchen was bright and spacious, and Jack found himself looking around with genuine interest. There were pictures drawn by the kids pressed to the refrigerator with cartoon-character magnets. Two lunch boxes waited on the countertop to be filled. A tennis racket leaned against the wall, a few strings curled loose. A broken remote-control car was in numerous pieces on one end of the long table that sat in the center of the room. A lone daisy drooped from its perch in a jelly glass converted to vase. An apple, with one small bite taken out of it, teetered near the edge of the countertop.
Home. The word shouted at him.
Jack watched as she bent down to pull the cookie sheet from the oven. She picked up the fresh, hot cookies with a spatula and transferred them from the aluminum onto a piece of wax paper to cool. The aroma made Jack’s mouth water. Her movements made his mind wander.
He appreciated the room. Like a page from Good Housekeeping, it was a lived-in space. Oak furniture. A long, rectangular table with claw feet was surrounded by eight ladder-back chairs. Gleaming copper pots hung in a circle over the bright orange island center. Dark green ivy grew in shiny brass pots suspended from the dark-stained wood beams overhead. The glint of silver, the glisten of china and the sparkle of crystal winked at him from the grand antique mahogany sideboard.
He had never been poor but he knew what kind of money it took to build and maintain a home like this. And what kind of care.
A glass wall looked out over the backyard. He moved to it and watched as three kids and a woman splashed around in the Olympic-sized swimming pool. Lucky kids. There was abundance in this house. And love. He could almost feel it, hanging in the air like mist after a rain. Whatever Abigail Roberts was doing, she was obviously doing it right.
When they had discussed the interview on the phone, she had revealed it was a single-parent home. Widow. But unlike his daughter, the brothers had each other.
Abby sensed a harmony. A strange addition. A man in her kitchen. It was a split thing; part of it was uncomfortable and part of it was like the scattered pieces of a puzzle falling right smack into place. His simple presence added something to the formula here. Assurance. Safety. Consistency.
Anticipation?
She cleared her throat. “Iced tea?”
“Thanks. Nice house.”
She moved about the kitchen filling two tall glasses with ice. He took a chair near the end of the table, flipped it around and straddled it. When he wasn’t watching her, he fiddled with the parts of the broken remote-control car.
How long had it been since he had sat in a kitchen while a woman waited on him? Or he on her? Forever, he answered his own question, silently. Absolutely forever. His ex-wife had made sure he was soured on everything that had to do with marriage and family before she fled. And up until this very minute, he hadn’t missed it one bit.
Abby placed a frosty glass in front of him. He noted the extra touch of the quartered lemon wedge on the rim. Some women just had a way of doing things that made a man feel special, he decided.
Brows knit together, up to his elbows in parts now, Jack held one up. “These batteries still good?”
“I think so.” She arched a brow. “It’s more like the fall it took from the garage roof that caused it to stop working.”
“Roof?” he questioned without looking up.
She slid into a chair opposite him. “Yeah, I know. What was it doing on the roof? It only took Nick a second to scamper up the ladder the painter left against the garage while he went to eat lunch.”
Jack shook his head. Abby jumped to her own defense. “I’ve tried being bilocational, but it doesn’t work. I was in the bathroom with Ben playing nurse to his bloody knee. Nick knew better, but he used to get on the roof with his dad from time to time, you know, cleaning rainspouts and retrieving tossed teddy bears. It’s a relatively flat roof….”
“Hey, relax, no one is accusing you of anything.” He chuckled and continued to toy with the loose parts. “A little glue and time might just fix this right up.”
The sight of a man sitting at her kitchen table repairing something warmed her. “Nick would like that. It’s his favorite toy.”
Jack took a few long gulps of his tea. “That’s cyclical. In a few weeks, it’ll be something else.”
She grinned. So he knew about those things. “Katie loses interest quickly, too, huh?”
He nodded as he held two broken pieces of red plastic together. “My folks sent her one of those newfangled play-tripod things. For an entire week, she seemed glued to it. Now—” he motioned a hand in the air “—nothing.” The two pieces he’d been holding together fell apart.
Small talk with a man. How long had it been? How much had she simply missed the company a man brings to a woman’s kitchen? No, she had purposely forgotten that. After what Jim had done to her…she would never want another man in her life again. At least not her very own personal life. She pushed those specific thoughts away and let her mind wander to less painful topics.
“Do your parents live nearby?” she asked.
“No. They would be able to help me out some if they did. West Coast. Retired. They want me to come out there to live—and I might have to if things don’t work out here—but I know a lot of people in this area. My reputation is already built. And I like Maryland. Where else can you find an ocean, mountains, flatland, big cities and small? The seasons are great here. When it’s summer it’s hot and muggy, when it’s winter it’s cold and icy.”
She agreed. “I like Williamstown. Old, small and quiet. Yet right on the edge of several large cities. Good place to raise kids.”
Restful. Eased. Feelings that Abby seldom enjoyed anymore sneaked up on her. She listened to the sound of his deep voice override the yelps and squeals and the occasional shout at the kids from her friend who was swimming with them.
He wiped his hands on his jeans. “Do you have any tools close by?”
“In the drawer behind you. Bottom one.”
He set a screwdriver, electrical tape and pair of pliers on the tabletop. He talked as he worked. “I let my carpentry business fade over the last year. I went through a time of…well, never mind. I’m going to need a chance to build it back up again. Right now I can be making my contacts by phone and running out to the job site off and on, whenever you’re home for the kids. I have a friend who’ll be foreman on the site for me till I get things going.”
She nodded. She could see his reasoning. As a manny, he would have a salary, a place to stay and meals for both him and his daughter. He would have the benefit of an almost-wife and mother without the reality of it. Katie would never know the difference. Not for a long time anyway. Ben and Nick were a different story. Yet, she thought, maybe having him move in wasn’t such a far-fetched idea after all. But could she really contend with having an almosthusband around? She hunched her shoulders. He’d never be that. Just a helper.
Jack caught her staring at him. He grinned. She warmed beneath it. It did feel as if the arrangement might work. She had hatched this flighty plan for exactly that reason, with the best interest of her boys in mind. Granted, it was a little more than Big Brothers of America, but it was no real big deal. Was it?
After catching the first few words about it from the TV talk show, she had sat down and listened. It was working. Men were proving themselves very adept at the nanny role. Retired football players were doing it. Preppies putting themselves through college were doing it. Single men not wanting to get into the office grind were doing it.
And it was successful. In many different instances, it was the answer to single or distant parenting. A different kind of family was better than no family at all. In distant parenting, it was a relief to the estranged father or mother who only had certain visitation rights to know that there was a male or female influence in the house, someone to take care of what needed tending to.
Her thoughts were moving too quickly. She got up from the table and went back to the countertop. Snagging two cookies, handing him one, she walked to the wall of glass to watch the kids.
“Mr. Murdock, those two kids out there are the most important thing in the world to me. They’re my life. I’m sure you understand that with your daughter. I’d be handing you my whole being, putting it in your hands, if I were to proceed with this. It’s why I have to be so careful before I make a decision. The television show made it all seem so simple, but it’s far from that, I assure you.”
“True enough. You placed the ad. I just answered it. I don’t eat little kids for lunch, and the last time I got caught slinging one of them off the steeple of the closest church, they burned me at the stake. I’ll even get a note from my mother.”
She laughed. “Sometimes I wonder how we find ourselves in the situations we’re in. There isn’t enough of me to go around.” She heard metal against metal as he continued to tinker with the broken toy.
He stated matter-of-factly, “Even between the two of us, I suspect we’d be hard put to do all, see all. I don’t know anyone who does.”
“What are you hoping to get out of all this, Mr. Murdock?”
He sat back in the chair and examined her. Drawing some sort of conclusion, he answered. “The same thing you are, I expect. Help. More love for the kids. They can’t have too much of that, you know. Someone to share the laughs and help me wipe away the tears.” He scratched his back with the screwdriver. “I don’t talk like this. Don’t make me talk like this.”
She couldn’t help but laugh at him. The twinkle in his eye, the sure way he was planted at the table.
“I’ll call the boys in to meet you.”

Chapter Two (#ulink_cc5c5a30-9c9f-5fe6-b52b-29c2dfcdc5ff)
Abby walked to the back door, pushed the screen open and shouted over the splashing water for the boys to come in.
Jack listened to their halfhearted protests as he grabbed a few more cookies and went back to his seat at the table only a little ashamed at how many peanut-butter cookies were landing in his gut. It had been so long since he’d had anything that tasted this good.
He was indulging himself in a feeling he hadn’t had in a long time: anticipation.
Abby sauntered back from the door and over to the sink, leaning a hip on the counter. “Okay, Murdock, if you can win over these boys of mine, that aren’t too keen on the idea to begin with, if you can pass the ultimate test of two tough little guys who think they’re taking great care of themselves and Mom just fine, then I’ll give it some serious thought. Maybe trying it for the summer.”
He offered a mock salute. “Can’t ask for more consideration than that.”
Abby’s friend Mary Kay came through the door first, way ahead of the boys, and slid to a surprised halt. “Well, hello.”
Jack immediately stood up and moved over to her, offering his hand. “Jack Murdock. Nanny applicant.”
“Oh, yeah. Mary Kay. Neighbor.” As her son, Matt, ran through the doorway, she snagged him and slowed him down. “My kid, Matt. Slow down, big guy.”
Matt buried his head in a towel as he attempted to dry his mop of thick brown hair. He was straightaway followed by two blondes that, except for a difference in height, could have been twins.
In a few moments, the room seemed filled with water droplets spraying everywhere, jabbering and laughter and yards of fluffy, multicolored beach towels.
Abby moved over to them and sped up their drying process. Dropping one of the towels on the floor, she put her foot on it and backtracked it to the door, soaking up the river the boys had let in.
The youngest boy had his green turtle inner tube still stuck securely around his waist. His darker blond hair was sticking straight up toward the sky, and his lips were turning purple from the sudden change in air temperature.
“Go upstairs and change and then come right back down. I want you to meet and talk with Mr. Murdock awhile.”
The oldest drew himself taller. “Oh, Mom, we were going back out to play ball.”
“Later.”
Above all the groans, Mary Kay propelled Matt toward the back door, getting the unspoken message.
“Nice to meet you, Mr. Murdock.”
Matt protested. Mary Kay shoved a little harder. “Move it, kid. There’ll be time for playing later after you take out the trash and—”
“Oh, brother, what did I do now?” he whined as the door bounced shut behind them.
“Scoot upstairs and dry off. Cookies and milk when you’re back down,” Abby directed.
Silence descended as the kids left the kitchen. Abby was a little amazed that she didn’t feel more uncomfortable with a stranger sitting at her kitchen table. And a male one at that. She’d been hornet’snest mad at all men for a short amount of time after finding out. more and more about her husband’s “other life.” But she had worked her way through that as she had almost everything else: by sheer willpower.
“Do the boys play any kind of sport?”
She laughed. “Every kind. It seems like we’re on the road fifty percent of the time going to this game and returning from that one. Saturdays consist of giving up a huge midafternoon chunk of time to some sort of practice or another. And, of course, as summer grows closer there’s camping trips, swimming lessons, overnights with friends, birthday parties, and so on. They keep plenty busy.”
The adults heard the rumble of the boys’ feet as they sped down the stairs and swung into the kitchen.
“Guys, this is Jack Murdock. The last man to apply for the nanny job.”
Abby could see the curiosity in their eyes as they tried to connect this man with whatever visions six-and eight-year-olds had of a nanny. Remembering how the kids had acted up and discounted the entire situation time and time again with previous applicants, Abby was surprised when they both just gave Jack a good look over. Of course, even they had to see he was nothing like the other candidates at all.
Jack held up the fragments of the car. “So, who’s the unlucky guy who wrecked this?”
“Me,” Nick, her oldest son, said proudly, poking a thumb in his chest, his eyes lighting up. “But not before I got it to do a wheelie at the roof pitch. Mom had a fit.”
Abigail watched Jack as he listened intently to Nick’s story. He sure would be nice to have around. But then, so were German shepherds, and even they needed a lot of upkeep. This entire situation could just turn out to be a major complication. He was much too easy on the eyes. And very substantially the classic male.
Feelings she’d thought she would never succumb to again were warming her insides. She willed them to stop, but they refused.
His jeans fit perfectly. He was handsome and had a smooth way of walking, and he simply had a great body. His stomach was flat. He was a good cross between Sam Elliott and a tall Clint Black. A man that caused a woman to conjure pictures of blazing orange sunsets…wild rides on untamed stallions…the two of them wrapped in one blanket sitting near a campfire.
Abby had to admit she felt her heart slowly melting. For the first time in a long line of drawn-out, lonely days spent resenting the male species and her stupidity in dealing with it, she felt some of her pentup anger ease.
It was almost as if she could actually feel her lifeblood snaking through her veins. Hot and way too fast. She detected a quickening. A heightened awareness of her body and mind. It was like seeing everything through 3-D glasses when all her life everything had been one-dimensional.
“Have any glue?” Jack asked, a screwdriver in one hand and pliers in the other.
Nick shook his head. “Sure, but it won’t do any good to stick it all back together ’cause the motor won’t work anymore.”
“You’re sure of that?”
Nick started to affirm his train of thought but stopped short. “I guess not. But it sure looks trashed to me.” He slid from the chair and ran to his room to retrieve the tube of glue.
Ben didn’t miss a thing even though he refused to crack a smile at Jack. He watched him manipulate the parts to the broken toy with fascination but remained silent.
Abby realized that Jack was simulating, without trying, what he might be able to do if he became part of the household: fit the puzzle pieces back into place, strengthen some weaknesses. Take the scattered pieces of the whole and patch them together so they’d work. Maybe not perfectly, not like the original, but quite good enough.
Suddenly Abby felt pure, cold fear slide over her. This man simply stirred up too many feelings inside of her. He was too physical, too powerful, too commanding a presence. Maybe this scenario would be the best thing for Nick and Ben, but what would it do to her? She shook her head. She was a mature adult. It would only do what she allowed it to do.
Certainly she could live in the same house with this man and not make a fool of herself. Not resent him the way she had come to resent the arrogant existence of the entire male population. Unreasonable feelings, true, and ones she could deal with if she had a mind to. Up until now, it had been easier not to.
Nick came running back, dropping a misshapen tube of model glue in Jack’s hand. Instead of returning to his seat, Nick stood by Jack and the two of them bent their heads over the task.
“Ben, come on over here and hold this piece against here while Nick and I use the screwdriver to set the engine back in place.”
Ben, pretty used to doing what grown-ups told him to do, got down from his chair and sauntered over, pretending to be painfully bored and unimpressed.
Abby watched, fascinated, as Jack closed his big hand over Ben’s little one. “Right here. Just like that.”
Jack tweaked and prodded and twisted and poked. The boys patiently handed him tools and held this here and that there. Abby was amazed that they could stand still that long. Abby forced herself to load the dishwasher. She needed to be busy doing something other than watching how deftly the man’s hands worked.
They were still laboring over the broken toy twenty minutes later when Katie toddled in. Her thick, dark hair was mussed, her even darker eyes were still circled with sleep and her little mouth was curled in a tiny pout. Abigail wondered at how she found her way around the strange surroundings. And she hadn’t even whimpered.
“Hi, Katie.” Abigail walked slowly toward her so as not to startle her. The little girl rubbed her eyes and blinked up at her as she drew closer.
Without hesitation, Katie stretched out both arms to be lifted up. Instinctively Abby bent down and obliged her.
The moment those soft little arms crept around her neck, the little head tucked beneath Abby’s chin, she was lost all over again. All the longings for a daughter, all the wishes for a little girl in starched dresses and patent leather shoes…She and Jim used to lie awake at night and talk about what it would be like to have a daughter. Pink things and lacy stuff. Frilly dresses. Bows. Pigtails. Baton lessons.
The child smelled of warm sheets and baby shampoo. A picture of those big hands of Jack’s lathering this tiny head appeared in her imagination. A man had to be unique, very special to actually take the time to perform the many tasks of raising a child alone.
And this child trusted that the adults in her life would love her and cherish her and do all the right things by her. She had no way of knowing that her mother wasn’t in the picture. Not yet anyway. Abby kissed her soft cheek.
That was what Jack saw when he glanced up from his conversation about camping with the boys, the repair of the car just about completed. His daughter was being happily hugged and talked to by the cool and beautiful Abigail Roberts. The picture contracted his heart.
He detected a gentleness in the way Abby soothed his daughter. Caring. He wanted this for Katie. She deserved it. She was just a toddler and relied on him to make the best decisions for her.
Regret washed over him like a bucket of ice water. Maybe he hadn’t tried hard enough to save his marriage. Maybe it was all his fault. His wife had told him it was all the time. Maybe…
He couldn’t afford to dwell on what-ifs. He looked at Abby. What were these feelings she stirred in him? Gratitude. Nothing else, he assured himself. The fact that his body had tuned itself into hers the minute she had yanked the door open was only the reflection of appreciation that a workable solution might be on the horizon. To think of her in any other way would be too dangerous at this point in his life.
Okay. So he was just downright attracted to her. Strongly charmed by her. That was the natural, biological way of things. But this was business. This was only for the sake of a bunch of kids that needed some strain of normalcy in their lives.
Well, maybe one one-hundredth would be for him. A little everyday, ordinary peace and contentment. And what could it hurt to have a beautiful, sweetsmelling female to brighten up his every hour? As long as he looked but didn’t even think about touching.
Abigail sensed that Jack was watching, and she turned toward the table to see that he sat there, dwarfing it. Something strange ran through her heart. Something warm and exiting. Something promising. She held something that was vital to him in her arms, just as she was trusting him with two little somethings that were her very life.
“Someone is looking for you, Daddy.”
After taking just a few more seconds to enjoy the view, he got up, walked over to them and trapped Abby’s gaze with his own. “Well, she found me, Mommy,” he teased.
Just his use of the word conjured pictures. Ones that came too quickly and too brightly.
Time ticked between them. Suspended. One. Two. Three.
He took Katie when she fell forward into his arms. They stood close, Abby and Jack. Tiny white-hot sparks danced the short distance between them to heat the air. Abigail’s gaze rested on the strong, muscled arms that supported the child, the wide, square hand that chucked her under her chin. She wondered what his hands would feel like on her body.
She immediately pulled her gaze away and walked to the sink to run water, rinsing this morning’s frying pan before shoving it in the dishwasher. Anything to keep occupied.
Ben, assuming the need for his help was over, headed for the other room and the television. Abby was sure he had already made up his mind about a nanny and very little could change it.
Abby listened to the sound of Jack’s footsteps as he returned to the table with his daughter. She liked the sound. Security. How could a near-stranger make her feel secure in her own home?
“This is Katie. Katie, that’s Nick, and that guy over there, leaving, is Ben. Say hello.”
“’Lo.”
Nick, who had appointed himself the man of the house since Jim’s death, picked up a cookie and offered it to Katie. She took it and slid down from her daddy’s lap, scooted under the table and came up on the other side to sit in the chair next to Nick. Ben voiced a forced greeting and disappeared around the doorway, and Abby listened to him plop onto the sofa and click the remote.
Abby sighed. There had to be more than a dozen ways for a heart to break. Ben was experiencing all of them.
Abby locked the door on the dishwasher and twisted the knob. It looked as if Jack would be there awhile now that he had appointed himself mechanic. The machine began its cycle.
Jack’s head whipped up at the low, screeching noise. “Did you lock a cat in there?”
Nick laughed and Abby asked, “What?”
“That noise.”
“Oh, that. I’ve gotten so used to it that I don’t hear it anymore.”
“Mom tried to fix it, but she got stuck.”
“Mr. Murdock doesn’t want to hear about that, Nicky.”
Jack grinned, assuring her that he did. “Turn it off. I’ll have a look at it.”
“Thanks.” Realizing she’d just be in the way, and wanting her kids to get to know Jack, she decided to leave. “I’ll be upstairs if you want anything.”
She climbed the stairs to get on with the vacuuming. As soon as she heard herself humming, she stopped short. This was new. The thought of cleaning the rugs had never brought on singing before. Either this was a good sign or a very bad one.
A diversion. Something new in their lives. Katie and Jack. They were like a beautifully wrapped box placed in front of her. A gift from someone unknown. The wondering, the curiosity at what she would find once she opened the lid, was getting the better of her.
She forced the thoughts from her mind as she plugged in the cord and stepped on the switch, bringing the machine to life. No thinking. That had been her rule for many, many months. She counted each back-and-forth motion of the vacuum wand, one, two, three, four. Keep her mind from wandering to the man below in her kitchen, five, six, seven, eight.
When she went back downstairs, completely convinced that she had only imagined the effect Jack Murdock had on her, Nick and Jack were discussing a cabin that Jack owned somewhere up north. “And when I was a kid, we used to go sleigh riding for the entire day and have huge bonfires to roast hot dogs at night. We’d be so tired, our parents had to carry us home.”
And Abby felt that edge, that awakening stir inside of her. again. It wasn’t her imagination. It was him. Just by being who he was, he was able to wake her out of her emotional deep sleep. Even though it was the last thing she wanted. Control. She was in command of her emotions. She would rule.
They continued their chitchat about Little League and booster shots.
Abby took the clothes out of the washer and headed out back to hang them on the line. Even if she decided to give this little scene a chance, they couldn’t just fall in like roommates on some nighttime sitcom. There had to be decorum. Some distance. Just the thought of a strange man in the house was more than a bit unsettling. Yet somehow Jack didn’t seen like a outsider.
It was a very large house. And there was plenty of room….
Doubt toyed with her. Tested her. Tortured her. The unknown. Here it was again. For years she had lived secure in her knowledge and realization of how wonderful her life was, only then to discover that it was all a farce. A lie! Maybe she couldn’t tell the difference between illusion and reality—ever! Maybe right this minute she was being duped again.
No. No way. She was suspicious now, of everything and everybody. She was much too sophisticated to let anyone pull the wool over her eyes as her husband had. She wouldn’t think of it. Not right now.
The screen door banged shut as she reentered the house.
Jack’s deep voice had shifted to serious and studious. “We’ll let this set overnight and then try it. It might just work long enough for you to try it on a tree limb or Highway 95.”
“Oh, no, you don’t!” Abby instructed, unable to believe he’d just said something like that to an eight-year-old.
“Relax. Nick and I had a talk about the proper places to run these things. He’s decided he doesn’t want to take any more chances with this one. Especially since he won’t get it back again if he does.”
She relaxed. “Good.” So he was one step ahead of her and maybe had handled the rule of where to play with the remote-control car better than she had.
Jack got up and walked around to Katie. He took her hands, one at a time, and brushed the cookie crumbs from them. He led her into the living room. Abby pretended to be busy selecting something from a cupboard, but her ears were tuned in.
“Mind if Katie watches cartoons with you?”
“Nope.” Ben’s tone was one of complete disinterest.
“She likes the Smurfs.”
“They’re dumb.”
“The Jetsons.”
“Stupid.”
“Turtles?”
“They’re okay.”
Jack came back into the kitchen.
Nick was on his feet instantly. “Want to see the wagon I’m working on? It’s pretty old.”
“Lead the way.” He turned toward Abby. “Just give me a holler if Katie gets restless.”
Abby nodded.
Alone in the kitchen, Abby crept to the doorway and peeped into the living room. Katie was sitting next to Ben, looking up at him. Ben was perched on the arm of the sofa, swinging one leg over the side. His gaze would wander from the television to the little girl beside him without moving his head.
In a few minutes, Katie slid from the couch and walked around the room, looking at everything. Ben’s baseball mitt was lying on the coffee table, and Katie poked at it. Abby watched Ben start to make a move and then decide against it. Katie went around to the wing-back chair and pulled his brightly colored book bag onto the floor. She plopped down and played with the zipper. Ben said nothing, but he kept a wary eye on her.
Abby knew, deep down in her heart, that Katie would be good for Ben. She would draw his attention away from himself and his sadness. She would force him to interact simply by existing in the same space.
And Jack would do the same for her. Even if he was never aware of it.
What were his needs? A substitute mother for his daughter was obvious. But there was more. She felt it.
Okay, so hiring him as a nanny seemed the best thing to do. It still felt weird and way out of character for her. Getting beyond that would be half the battle. Change was needed. And she needed help to expand and explore. She’d turned so sour on life for so long, she desperately needed someone to push her back into it.
Jack and Nick returned to the house, Nick jumping around and jabbering. Katie ran into the kitchen at the sound of her dad’s voice. Ben nonchalantly followed a few seconds later.
“A good coat of red paint and it will be as good as new.”
“I hope it holds together.”
“Mom,” Nick groaned, “I told you I know what I’m doing. Even Jack says it’s sturdy. Stop worrying.”
“It’s a mother’s job to worry,” Jack defended her.
Nick moaned again.
“It’s time for us to go. Nice to have met you Nick, Ben. Hope I’ll be seeing you soon. And thank you for the cookies, Mrs. Roberts. I haven’t had anything that tasted that good since…Well, I haven’t had anything that’s tasted that good at all. Say goodbye, Katie.”
She kicked her little legs and wiggled her fingers.
Ben peeled away from the wall and darted back into the living room.
Nick turned to join his brother. “See ya, Jack, and thanks for working on stuff with me.”
“Anytime, buddy.”
Jack paused as Abby was walking him toward the front door and looked at her over Katie’s curly head. “Nice kids. Real nice kids.”
“Thank you. And your daughter is beautiful.”
Jack grinned. “Sure is. She’s low maintenance, too.”
It would be a big step for all of them. Regrets were something she wanted nothing to do with anymore. Not when it came to the well-being of Nick and Ben. She had to be positive. She hauled the huge oak door open.
Automatically she put her hand on his arm and again found it hard and supporting. “You must know how much I want to be sure this is the right thing to do.”
He nodded.
She laughed. “No guarantees, I guess.”
He shifted his weight from one foot to the other. Glancing out the open door and back to her again, his face was serious. His mouth broke into that nice grin she found she watched for already. “I guess I could simply call you and ask you out to dinner,” he suggested.
His eyes were clear and direct. And saw too much. If she chose to go in this direction, she’d just have to make sure it wasn’t too much of an enjoyment. Business. She instilled the word in her brain. Strictly business.
“I’ll call you.” Abby waved goodbye to Katie.
“Or I’ll call you.”
Heat coiled in her stomach, sank and whispered lower. As she closed the door, she felt the instant absence of something nice.
Abby walked back into the living room. The kids were deeply involved in a hushed conversation.
Nick could contain himself no longer. “Hey, Mom. Jack said he had a real live log cabin up in the mountains. He used to go there and fish. Stayed there all by himself even when he was little. Did you see he fixed my car?” He held it tightly and then moved to place it in a safe spot on the counter as he followed his mom back into the kitchen.
“Lunch, Ben,” she called. Nick was already at the table.
Abby set a heaping plate of diagonally cut peanut-butter-and-jelly sandwiches in front of all of them. Fresh, cold milk was poured into amber glass tumblers. A bowl of rippled potato chips and a plate of freshly baked cookies finished the scene.
Abby leaned over and tweaked Nick’s nose. “You liked Mr. Murdock, huh?”
Nick, sandwich fisted and mouth full by now, looked at Ben and nodded in wide-eyed, solemn agreement. Ben looked away. “Yeah, he sure wasn’t like the rest of those guys. Jack’s okay, Ben. You just don’t want him around ’cause he’s not Dad.”
That struck a chord. “Nah,” Ben argued instantly.
“Uh-huh,” contested Nick.
Ben shoved Nick, and Nick shoved Ben back.
Nick knew what buttons to press to get to Ben. “Quit being a baby!”
Ben launched himself from his chair to Nick’s, his little arms and legs going as if he wanted to pummel his brother to death. A baby, indeed.
“Hey, you two, cut it out right now. Finish eating.”
Ben wrestled with Nick even though Nick managed to continue eating his sandwich at the same time. Abby moved over, lifted Ben from the body of his brother and sat him sternly in his own chair. Ben continued to send stormy glances Nick’s way.
Abby studied the two tough, wiry little boys. Both light haired and dark eyed like their father. Nick had Jim’s stubborn chin. Ben had his wide forehead and nose. They both showed his heart and soul, which at times had been beautiful. She silently prayed neither had inherited his weakness for lying and cheating.
Nick spoke from behind his milk mustache. “He’s cool, Mom. He’s big. I bet he can wrestle a real long time without getting tired.”
Ben continued to eat and play with his food. “I don’t like him.”
Nick rolled on, ignoring his little brother’s statement. “And he said he likes car racing, too, just like me.”
Abby busied herself cleaning the kitchen and half listening to Nick’s continuous monologue while she fell deeply in thought.
“Yep, and he likes Batman and camping, too.”
“I don’t like him.” Ben raised his voice.
“It’s okay, Ben, you don’t have to like him.” Abby made the statement short and simple.
She hadn’t seen such interest, such excitement, shining in Nick’s eyes in a long, long time. This Jack Murdock was either the best con artist she had ever seen or a godsend. Whichever, something seemed to be working.
Abigail fussed at the kitchen counter and pretended to be busy. “He seems to be very nice.”
Nick’s keen mind reduced it to its lowest common denominator. “Is he gonna come live with us or not?”
Chuckling, Abby capped the jelly and used the dishcloth to clean the purple stickiness from the side of the jar. Come live with us? “Maybe…but I don’t know yet.”
Nick’s voice took on the tone of the older, know-it-all brother and son. “Mom, let’s just do it. Let’s do what Dad used to say. Just close your eyes and make up your mind. Jump in with both feet. Ben, you’ll like him after a while.”
The words stung, hummed like a wasp sinking a venom-filled stinger. How easily Nick had repeated Jim’s lines word for word. How very, very much he sounded exactly like his father. How quickly the ghostly image of him appeared, standing there in the kitchen with them, that wonderful, unforgettable grin on his face. The love for his family shining in his eyes. She wondered if that love shone from his eyes when he was with…Her heart broke. Again.
For a long moment, Abby stood there, keeping her back to her family while she absorbed the blow from the good memory and the bleak realization of reality. Jim’s silhouette shimmered slowly from her mind.
She picked up her own sandwich and took a seat at the table with the boys. “The movie starts at five, and you guys have to clean your rooms before we go.”
Ben pouted. “I don’t like him. I don’t want him here.”
Nick, as always, took the lead. “Be quiet, Benny. You’re too young to know what’s good for you anyway.” Then, to his mother, he added seriously, “Mom, we need him.”
Ben slid down from his chair and pushed it hard under the table. “No, we don’t.”
“Oh yes, we do, Benny.”
“No. No. No.” Ben stood straight and tall like a little tin soldier. “I don’t want him here.”
“Ben.” It took all her strength not to run to the little kid and scoop him up in her arms. “You don’t even know Mr. Murdock. You remember when you first started wearing your in-line skates? You hated them because you kept falling and skinning your knees and elbows. After a while, you loved them because you’d gotten used to them and didn’t fall much anymore. Sometimes that’s the way it is with people. At first you don’t like them, but after they’ve been around a little bit, you do.”

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