voice. “But I told her, no disrespect to her dad, that Peter Prescott sounded dumb. I’d wanted to name him after my father—”
A bitter nut of emotion opened high in his throat. Dropping his gaze, Jack swallowed hard and reached again for the drawer. He drew out a platinum-plated rattle, not a family heirloom but a gift Sue had bought for their baby a week before she’d died. The inscription read Love forever, Mum and Dad.
His chest tight, Jack smiled at the galloping horses etched down the cool handle. He shook the rattle and was rewarded by a sound similar to sleigh bells. At the noise, Beau pulled his ear then threw a hand out.
Lowering the rattle, Jack sank into the chair and, feeling empty again, searched his soul.
He examined first the scan image in Sue’s book then Beau. Then he looked at each again. The pain behind his ribs intensified to a point where he almost lost his breath. But then, remarkably, the ache eased to a warm sensation rather than something bleak and cold and sour. He didn’t want to feel that way anymore.
As the tension between his shoulders loosened, Jack bobbed Beau high on his arm and, pressing his lips to the baby’s forehead, handed the rattle over.
Later that day, Jack was back in the stables, preparing to brush down Herc. But he was more interested in what was happening outside.
Beau was in the yard on a prickle-free patch of lawn and garden near the house. He was enthralled by the motion of the baby swing, which his uncle had hung from a tree branch that morning. Maddy pushed the swing, carefully—not too high. Her face was a portrait of joy. Of contentedness.
Smiling, Jack absently threaded Herc’s brush strap over his hand.
Hell, no matter her mood, Maddy was attractive. Perfect symmetry, graceful movements. In his humble opinion, this landscape was the ideal foil for her skin and flaxen hair, particularly given the denim shorts and blousy blue top she wore today…the same color as her eyes. He itched to go join them in the dappled shade of that cypress. But simply looking from a distance raked the reawakened coals that smoldered deep in his gut.
True, they both felt the same fire. Both wanted the chance to turn the heat on to combustible high. But as much as it needled, he reminded himself yet again that she’d been right last night and he, in turn, meant to keep his word. He wouldn’t crowd her. Foremost, she’d come to Leadeebrook to keep a promise not to begin an affair.
Jack turned to Herc and, frowning, swiped the bristles down his glossy black neck.
Affair wasn’t the right word. Affair implied some sort of ongoing relationship and neither of them was immature enough to think that was a possibility. They lived thousands of miles apart. He didn’t like the city. She was not a fan of the country. She might take up his offer and come back to visit once or twice. But she was a young woman with a life, and who she was and what she aspired to be wasn’t here.
When Herc’s flank twitched and his rear hoof pawed the ground, Jack swiped the brush again.
Good thing really. He’d considered taking on a more serious relationship with Tara and had concluded it would be a mistake. He’d had no choice but to take responsibility for Beau. After the initial king-hit shock, he was at peace with the arrangement. He’d do everything in his power to protect him, keep him close. Maddy, on the other hand…
Jack stopped brushing.
Well, Maddy was another matter.
Nell breezed by his leg, trotting out the door with a boomerang-shaped stick in her mouth. Curious, Jack crossed to the window in time to see Nell drop the stick at Maddy’s feet.
It’d be a cold day in Hades before Maddy got chummy with a canine. Given her past, he couldn’t blame her. He, however, couldn’t imagine not having a dog around his feet. Not so long ago he’d owned five.
Her nose wrinkling, Maddy waved Nell back and Jack heard her say, “Shoo. Get away.” But Nell kept sitting there,
A bitter nut of emotion opened high in his throat. Dropping his gaze, Jack swallowed hard and reached again for the drawer. He drew out a platinum-plated rattle, not a family heirloom but a gift Sue had bought for their baby a week before she’d died. The inscription read Love forever, Mum and Dad.
His chest tight, Jack smiled at the galloping horses etched down the cool handle. He shook the rattle and was rewarded by a sound similar to sleigh bells. At the noise, Beau pulled his ear then threw a hand out.
Lowering the rattle, Jack sank into the chair and, feeling empty again, searched his soul.
He examined first the scan image in Sue’s book then Beau. Then he looked at each again. The pain behind his ribs intensified to a point where he almost lost his breath. But then, remarkably, the ache eased to a warm sensation rather than something bleak and cold and sour. He didn’t want to feel that way anymore.
As the tension between his shoulders loosened, Jack bobbed Beau high on his arm and, pressing his lips to the baby’s forehead, handed the rattle over.
Later that day, Jack was back in the stables, preparing to brush down Herc. But he was more interested in what was happening outside.
Beau was in the yard on a prickle-free patch of lawn and garden near the house. He was enthralled by the motion of the baby swing, which his uncle had hung from a tree branch that morning. Maddy pushed the swing, carefully—not too high. Her face was a portrait of joy. Of contentedness.
Smiling, Jack absently threaded Herc’s brush strap over his hand.
Hell, no matter her mood, Maddy was attractive. Perfect symmetry, graceful movements. In his humble opinion, this landscape was the ideal foil for her skin and flaxen hair, particularly given the denim shorts and blousy blue top she wore today…the same color as her eyes. He itched to go join them in the dappled shade of that cypress. But simply looking from a distance raked the reawakened coals that smoldered deep in his gut.
True, they both felt the same fire. Both wanted the chance to turn the heat on to combustible high. But as much as it needled, he reminded himself yet again that she’d been right last night and he, in turn, meant to keep his word. He wouldn’t crowd her. Foremost, she’d come to Leadeebrook to keep a promise not to begin an affair.
Jack turned to Herc and, frowning, swiped the bristles down his glossy black neck.
Affair wasn’t the right word. Affair implied some sort of ongoing relationship and neither of them was immature enough to think that was a possibility. They lived thousands of miles apart. He didn’t like the city. She was not a fan of the country. She might take up his offer and come back to visit once or twice. But she was a young woman with a life, and who she was and what she aspired to be wasn’t here.
When Herc’s flank twitched and his rear hoof pawed the ground, Jack swiped the brush again.
Good thing really. He’d considered taking on a more serious relationship with Tara and had concluded it would be a mistake. He’d had no choice but to take responsibility for Beau. After the initial king-hit shock, he was at peace with the arrangement. He’d do everything in his power to protect him, keep him close. Maddy, on the other hand…
Jack stopped brushing.
Well, Maddy was another matter.
Nell breezed by his leg, trotting out the door with a boomerang-shaped stick in her mouth. Curious, Jack crossed to the window in time to see Nell drop the stick at Maddy’s feet.
It’d be a cold day in Hades before Maddy got chummy with a canine. Given her past, he couldn’t blame her. He, however, couldn’t imagine not having a dog around his feet. Not so long ago he’d owned five.
Her nose wrinkling, Maddy waved Nell back and Jack heard her say, “Shoo. Get away.” But Nell kept sitting there,
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