Cowboy Enchantment - By Pamela Browning Page 0,74
puréed peas out of the blender, having successfully completed the homemade baby-food venture.
“Good news, Erica. Tony’s going to be okay. Justine says they’ll be home this evening. Apparently he didn’t eat breakfast before he left on his run to the airport, and he started to feel weak.”
“Will they be back in time for dinner?”
“No, but what are we having?”
She warmed to his use of the word we. “Pavel said it’s his Rancho Encantado beef stew, whatever that means.”
“It’s stew with fresh artichoke hearts in it, and he puts parmesan cheese biscuits on top. It’s wonderful.” He paused. “How are you and Kaylie getting along?”
Erica glanced at Kaylie, who was lying on her back in the playpen cooing at a cloth book.
“We’re doing fine. She’s so much fun. Why, I even gave her a bath.”
“You did?” He sounded surprised.
“Yes, Paloma said she hadn’t had one yet today. It gave us a chance to play hide the rubber duckie and peekaboo, and I dried her off and dressed her in the cutest little polka-dot outfit, and then I played the piano for her and—”
“Hold on, hold on.” Hank was laughing. “You make the afternoon sound as much fun as an amusement park.”
“Your daughter is like an amusement park all crammed into one little person.”
His voice softened. “I’m glad you feel that way, Erica.”
“I’m enjoying her,” she said, amazed to realize it was true. She loved watching the light of understanding flare in Kaylie’s blue eyes when she learned something, and the way Kaylie gave her her total attention when she was feeding her or diapering her or giving her a bath. That was more than you could say for clients, even when you were making a fantastic presentation.
“I’ll be early for dinner, and maybe after we put Kaylie to bed, you’ll enjoy taking care of the baby’s daddy.” Hank’s meaning was unmistakable, and Erica laughed.
“Maybe I will,” she said, and when they hung up, they were both laughing.
She heard the clink of the mail slot in the front door and went to pick up the envelopes that were scattered on the floor. She was surprised to find one addressed to Hank and bearing the return address of Rowbotham-Quigley, the firm that was competing with her own firm for the important Gillooley account.
Wondering what business Hank might have with a major investment firm in New York, she set it on top of his other mail and left it on the table for him to pick up. Then she went to see if Kaylie found homemade baby food to her liking.
AFTER DINNER, Kaylie, sated with a large portion of puréed peas, fell asleep in her crib in her bedroom at Justine’s house. Hank lit a fire, and Erica played the piano for him. When she finished playing, he came up behind the piano bench and rested his hands on her shoulders. He massaged them gently and said, “Let’s step outside for a while. It’s such a beautiful night.”
Erica smiled up at him and pulled on one of Justine’s jackets, following him out into the walled garden off the dining room. The air was faintly scented with the pungent fragrance of creosote, and Erica wrapped her arms around herself to keep warm.
“Cold?” Hank asked.
She nodded.
“I can fix that,” he said, pulling her into his arms and resting his chin on the top of her head. She inhaled deeply of his scent, that outdoorsy smell mingled with the faint suggestion of leather. “Warmer now?”
She nodded, dislodging his chin, and she wasn’t surprised when he tipped her face up toward his. “I don’t suppose I could talk you into extending your stay here,” he said, his eyes delving deep into hers.
She bit her lip. “I’m supposed to be back at work on Thursday.”
“We’ve barely begun to learn about each other.”
“I know.”
“If you could stay a while longer, we’d figure out where we’re going with this,” he said, and his face was so serious that she caught her breath. She suddenly felt as though she was on the verge of a major discovery, about to step through a mystical gate whose secrets would be hers to explore if only she said some magic word….
Stay, a small voice commanded, and she broke her gaze to look around for the cat. But this was a walled garden, impossible for the cat to enter. But then, she hadn’t thought a kitten could enter her room, but he had.
“Erica?”
She told herself not to be distracted. “I’m sorry. For a moment I thought