Ten minutes after Amanda had gotten home from the extended trip to Dalton’s Grange, she was back in her jammies and sitting at her desk in front of her laptop, determined to focus on the decades-old mystery of what became of Beatrix Abernathy. If she worked on helping Mel track down the long-lost daughter of the two young separated lovers, Amanda wouldn’t think about Holt. Or the kiss. Or the agreement she’d made to tutor his son.
Yet all she was thinking about was the unexpected kiss. Their chemistry was on fire, always had been, so the kiss was no surprise. There was just something between them as there had been from the first day she’d seen Holt Dalton ten years ago at Camp KidPower. And the more he opened up to her about what was really going on in his life, the closer she felt to him. Unfortunately.
She should not, could not feel close to him. Not after how badly he’d hurt her. As she’d told him on the deck, she was done with love, done with opening herself up to heart-wrenching pain. She had to keep some distance from Holt, somehow. His promise to keep his lips to himself was a good start.
Beatrix Abernathy, she told herself, staring at the search engine. Amanda went over her notes in her phone app, reading the words in the letter found tucked between the pages of Josiah Abernathy’s diary.
My dearest Winona, please forgive me. But they say you will never get better. I promise you that your baby daughter is safe. She’s alive! I wanted to raise her myself, but my parents forced me to have her placed for adoption. She’s with good people—my parents don’t know, but I have figured out who they are. Someday, I will find a way to bring her back to you.
Winona Cobbs was in her nineties now. And according to Mel she was delicate and frail these days. They had to fulfill Josiah’s promise as quickly as possible—especially now that Josiah had had that moment of remembrance.
I’ll do everything I can to help. Amanda sent the promise silently into the universe.
Hmm, Amanda thought, staring at her computer screen. She’d done some marketing work for a hospital and recalled there was an online group of adoptees looking for information about their birth parents. She could start with a group such as that one. But where to focus the search? Winona and her family had lived in Rust Creek Falls back then, where she’d likely given birth.
Since the Abernathys had moved to Bronco after the baby had been adopted, Mel had said she had a feeling the baby had been adopted to a Bronco family. Perhaps, like Josiah, the Abernathys also knew which family the newborn had been placed with and wanted to keep tabs from a distance or just live in the same area with the little girl who wouldn’t be part of their own family. Mel hadn’t been sure of any of that.
Amanda figured she’d start with online groups related to Rust Creek Falls, a very small town, and Bronco. With Poindexter on her lap, she did some searches for online groups concerning adoption in Kalispell and bingo—there was a public chat group of people looking for information. Amanda typed her own new post into the site:
I’m looking for information about a baby girl likely born in Rust Creek Falls
seventy-plus years ago to teenaged parents and placed for adoption by the birth father’s family. The families—the surnames are Cobbs and Abernathy—would have originally been from Rust Creek Falls. I have reason to believe the adoptive family was from Bronco. Please contact me with any leads.
She closed her laptop. Her post was pretty general, but there was a time frame, a place, surnames—and all that was a good start. You never knew what could resonate with someone out there and bring forth a lead.
I hope we find you, Beatrix Abernathy, Amanda thought, giving her cat a few scratches by her tail.
She heard a key in the lock, which meant Brittany was home. Her roommate came in and locked up, then took off her high heels, sighing with relief.
“Ahhh. These pinched me all night. Gorgeous but painful,” she said, wagging her finger at the sexy stilettos.
Amanda sent her a rueful smile. “Just like the guy I spent the past few hours with.” She felt her eyes widen as she realized what she’d just blurted out. “Did I just say that?”
Brittany came rushing over to the sofa and plopped down. “What guy? I thought you were spending the evening on the sofa with that documentary.” She reached into her purse and pulled out a velvet scrunchie, then pulled her long hair into a low ponytail.
“Well, that was the plan. And then Holt called.”
Brittany raised an eyebrow. “Holt? I like that name. Sounds sexy.”
“Oh, he is,” Amanda said, feeling herself blush. She was very comfortable with Brittany and always felt like she could be herself and say what was on her mind. But she hadn’t had a guy to gush about in the two years she’d lived here. Not that Holt was hers. “I’ve mentioned him, though not by name. He was that summer love ten years ago at a camp where we worked. I thought we’d be together forever, but he dumped me the last day. I ran into him late this afternoon when I was at Happy Hearts to go over some work with Daphne.”
“He was at Happy Hearts? Is he a vegan who doesn’t wear leather shoes?” she asked.
Amanda laughed. “The opposite. He’s a cattle breeder. His family owns one of the biggest and most gorgeous ranches in Bronco Heights—Dalton’s Grange.”
“He’s a Dalton? There are a zillion of them and each one is better looking than the last.”
Very true. Holt was the cutest, in Amanda’s opinion—then each was cuter than the last. “Five brothers to be exact. And yup, I met them all tonight at dinner at the parents’ house. Holt’s mother invited me to stay.”
“Oooh,” Brittany said. “Tell me every detail.”
Amanda did. She left nothing out. Starting with Robby Dalton wanting to adopt a cow and ending with the hot kiss from Holt on the back deck. And the promise they’d both made not to repeat it.
“Oh sure,” Brittany said, shaking her head with a grin. “Like that will happen. That was some intense evening, Amanda. You two will be lip-locked within minutes of seeing each other the next time.”
“He’s an amazing kisser,” Amanda said, biting her lip as she recalled every delicious sensation that had consumed her. “But I mean it. No more. First of all, he completely broke my heart and was careless about it too. He just walked away, Brittany.” She’d never told her roommate about getting left at the altar two years ago right before moving to Bronco. When she’d arrived in town, she’d wanted this to be about a fresh start, not rehashing everything that went wrong in her life, so she’d just said she’d had her share of heartache and wasn’t looking to get involved with anyone. “I guess I just don’t have faith in love anymore.”
“Your trust was shot,” Brittany said, her dark eyes sympathetic. “I can understand that. But life and love are about risks.”
Poindexter moved and Amanda petted his back and cute head, her gaze on the sweet, loving cat who never gave her any trouble. “That’s just it. I don’t want to take risks. I never want to be that hurt again. There was a next time with someone else too. I did try again and look what happened. Same thing.”
Brittany tilted her head, her expression sympathetic. “Well, since you’ll be tutoring Holt’s son, it sounds like you agreed to spend some serious time with the Dalton duo. And that means you might not have any say over what your heart says and does.”
She’d become an expert at just that these past couple of years. A handsome face and a list of qualities she’d like hadn’t been able to tempt her into dating anyone. “I pride myself on being levelheaded. Even if I’m attracted to Holt, I won’t get involved with him. Tutoring his son will be about Robby. Not about me and Holt. There is no me and Holt.”
“I do hear you, Amanda. But I’ll say this. I’m glad you’re going to tutor his son. Because you’re putting yourself in the path. And that’s where you should be, sweetie. Not hiding out in your room with Poindexter. Much as I love that cat.”
Amanda wanted to tell her roommate—whom she adored—the same thing back. Brittany dated up a storm, but she never let anything escalate because she didn’t want more than a good time. But what if her roommate did want more deep down where she wouldn’t admit it to herself? Amanda had always figured the right guy would come along and Brittany’s own words would be used against her. She’d be in the path and wouldn’t be able to get out of the way.
Eh, life and love and relationships were complicated.
Brittany let out a giant yawn. “I’m zonked. And I can’t wait to get out of this jumpsuit and into my pj’s.”
“The party was a huge success, I’m sure.”
Brittany grinned and stood up. “It definitely was.” She gave Poindexter a pat. “See you in the morning, roomie.”
“Night, Brittany. Thanks for the talk.”
With Poindexter in her arms, Amanda went into her bedroom. She got under the covers and knew she wouldn’t be falling asleep any time soon. She stared up at the ceiling, trying to bore herself to sleep. But all she saw in her mind was Holt Dalton’s face. And how sexy he was. She sighed and grabbed her phone, opening up her photos app.
Photos of Holt and Robby and their new dog and cat filled the screen. The craziest thought hit her and she quickly turned off her phone. She’d imagined herself in that last photo, sitting with Holt, her husband, Robby, her son, Bentley and Oliver—and of course Poindexter—her sweet pets.
She was getting all mixed up. She wanted a child—and obviously, Robby, with his put-it-out-there honesty and adorableness, had plucked her heartstrings something fierce. Throw in his gorgeous single father with whom she had a past, and of course her emotions were all over the place.
She took one last look at a photo of Holt before shutting off her phone and staring back up the ceiling. But all she saw was Holt’s face. All she felt was Holt kissing her, his hands on her back. He was so familiar and so not at the same time.
How exactly was she going to keep herself from falling for him all over again?
Thunk.
Thunk-thunk.
Thunkety-thunk.
It was just before midnight. Holt glanced toward his bedroom door, not that it would reveal anything about the strange noises coming from down the hall. Sounded like Robby was bouncing one of Bentley’s balls, but his son was fast asleep. He knew that because he’d come upstairs just a few minutes ago, checked on Robby, nodded at Bentley, who was lying at the foot of the bed, then went into his own room and slid under the covers, hoping he’d get some sleep tonight.
But doubting it. He could not stop thinking about Amanda and that kiss. Wanting more. Despite agreeing there would not be a second kiss.
Thunk.
Holt got out of bed and went to investigate.
“Daddy?” came Robby’s voice.
“Already on my way,” he called out, going into Robby’s room.
Bentley was sitting on the floor by the bed now. Oliver was on his perch and jumped onto the foot of the bed, and the dog jumped up onto the bed too. Then the cat jumped down and Bentley did too.
Hence the thunks. Great—pet acrobatics at midnight.
“Bentley and Oliver,” Holt said, wagging a finger. “You woke up Robby. Shhhhh from now on.”
Bentley tilted his black-and-white head as if apologizing and agreeing. Oliver began grooming his face with a white paw. Sorry, not sorry, the cat seemed to be saying.
“I think I’ll give Oliver a little more dinner right now,” Holt said. He’d gotten that tip from Daphne. If he made the cat’s dinnertime later, he’d likely sleep through the night. “Then he’ll have a nice full belly and curl up to bed.”
“’Kay, Daddy,” Robby said with a yawn. He frowned, his face suddenly crumpling. “Daddy?”
Holt froze and then sat down on Robby’s bed. “What’s wrong, buddy?” He pushed his son’s mop of brown bangs out of the way. Bentley jumped up and lay beside Robby to make sure his person was okay, and the boy put an arm around the sweet pooch.
“Do you think Gramps is still mad at me?” Robby asked.
Oh hell. A burst of anger radiated in Holt’s gut. This was what Neal Dalton wanted? To worry a little kid so much that the first thing he thought of when he woke up in the middle of the night was that his grandfather was mad at him?
“Gramps loves you. I know that like I know my name. And yours. I promise you he does.”
Robby shook his head. “But I’m loud and I break things.”
“Gramps is just an impatient person. Something happens and he doesn’t react well. Some people get mad if milk gets spilled or something breaks. Others, like Gram, take it a little easier. But Gramps loves you very much.”
“Are you sure, Daddy?” his son asked, his expression less troubled.
“Yes. I’m sure.” He was sure. His dad loved Robby like crazy; he had from the moment Robby was born. “Did I ever tell you what Gramps did right after coming to visit you in the hospital when you were just five minutes old?”
Robby giggled. “One million times, Daddy.”
Okay, that was true. Holt pulled that one out of the hat so often because the story reminded him that his father did love the boy at the core, and it reminded Robby too in a way that seemed to settle inside his bones and cells, making him feel better.
“Well, I’m gonna tell you for the millionth and one time,” Holt said, stretching out beside Robby and pulling his son against him. Bentley put his chin on Robby’s belly with a sigh. “First your granddad stopped in the hospital gift shop, buying every single stuffed animal and like twenty ‘It’s A Boy!’ balloons. Then he met you and held you for a long time, telling you how you were named after his favorite uncle who wasn’t with us anymore. And when he bought Dalton’s Grange, he planted an apple tree in the backyard that he named The Great Robby Dalton’s Apple Tree.”
Robby smiled. “I like my tree, Daddy. It gets bigger every year just like me.”
“That’s right. Your grandfather planted that in your honor, something superspecial that would last forever, right by the house.”
“Gramps said he thought the tree would make apples in a few years,” Robby said, letting out a giant yawn.
Holt nodded. “I’m already looking forward to the apple crumble you’ll make me.”
“I can’t cook!” Robby said, laughing. But then he turned serious again. “Daddy, do you think my second grade teacher will like me?”
“Of course she will.” The good news was that Robby had been assigned to Ms. Chang’s classroom, and she had a reputation for being very patient and warm. “Warm and fuzzy” was good for Robby.
“Even though I’m in the worst reading group? I felt dumb when I was reading to Bentley and Oliver. Do they think I’m dumb?” Tears filled his blue eyes again.
Oh no. “Robby,” Holt said, drawing his son into his arms. “You are not dumb. You’re very smart and you work very hard. Everyone learns to read at their own pace. Took me till the middle of second grade before I was considered a good reader. Just took me longer. Some things come easily and some things come harder. You can put together puzzles and Legos and figure out those crazy instructions. A lot of people can’t.”
“I am good at puzzles and Legos.” His face brightened.
“Hey, did you know that Amanda works with kids at your school on reading and helping them improve? How would you like her to work with you the rest of the summer?”
In one day he’d gone from not having seen Amanda Jenkins for ten years to making an important decision—adopting Bentley and Oliver—in her presence and spending most of the evening with her. She’d met his parents—his entire family, actually. Then there was that amazing kiss. And now she’d be working with his son, probably a couple times a week for the rest of August. And August had barely begun.
Robby’s face burst into a grin. “I’ll be moved up from the worst reading group for sure!”
“I’ll bet she can start working with you very soon.” Holt liked the idea of having a very good reason to call Amanda in the morning. “You’re a great kid. All you have to be is you, Robby. I love you just as you are. And so do Bentley and Oliver.”
“Amanda likes me too,” Robby said.
“She sure does.”
Robby smiled, his entire countenance relaxing. “Good, Daddy.”
“You feel better about everything?”
Robby nodded and yawned. “I’m so tired.” He turned over and clutched his stuffed rodeo bull under his arm.
“I’m gonna go give Oliver that extra helping of food to calm him down. I think the thumps will stop and you’ll be able to sleep.”
“’Kay, Daddy. Love you.”
Holt’s heart was about to burst. “I love you too, Robby. Night.”
“Night, Daddy,” Robby said, his eyes closing.
Holt picked up Oliver, who wasn’t having it and wiggled to be let down. “Fine, mister. You can follow me to the kitchen instead of having a perfectly good ride.”
Which the cat did. As Holt put a little more dry food in the cat’s bowl, Oliver padded over and began eating. Ah, success, he thought. With a fully belly he’ll settle down. No more thunks, for sure.
As he put the bag of food away, he mentally added two items to his to-do list for the morning. One was to talk to his dad about how he was affecting Robby with his gruffness. The other was to ask Amanda to start working with Robby ASAP. Maybe even tomorrow.
Interesting that the thought of talking to Amanda made knowing he was going to have it out with his dad a lot easier.