Riding the storm - By Julie Miller Page 0,6
the translucent mist as he watched the scene unfold.
He was scoping out the volunteers he’d be working with, he rationalized. Staying close to offer Mitch whatever backup he might need, since this woman’s arrival had obviously upset him. Nate narrowed his gaze to take note of every detail that weather and distance allowed him to assess.
The woman wore her butterscotch cream hair pulled back in a straight, practical ponytail. The long strands hung past the collar of her man-size, bright green polo shirt. She might be a tad on the skinny side, though her bulky clothes and above-average height could be playing tricks on his perception. She had a definite spring to her step.
And quite possibly the bluest eyes he’d ever seen.
As she circled to the rear of the truck to greet Mitch, her face came into sharper focus. Nate’s fine-tuned senses responded with something more than curiosity. Her eyes were as cool and blue as a pristine mountain lake. She was pretty enough, he supposed, in an un-adorned, girl-next-door kind of way. But those eyes made her unforgettable.
How could her arrival be a bad thing?
“Hey, Dad.” She braced one hand on Mitch’s shoulder and rose up on tiptoe to exchange a kiss. So this was the daughter from the Double J Ranch that Mitch had been worried about.
“Honey, we talked about this.” Mitch made a move to hug her or halt her, but she’d already stridden beyond his reach en route to the passenger-side door.
“I know. But I also know how short-staffed you are right now.”
“I recruited help.”
“Right. The California contingency. Sun-babes and surfer dudes.”
Surfer dudes? Nate frowned. Was that a joke or an insult? He hadn’t been on a surfboard since he’d blown out his knee, and phrases like totally rad and gnarly had never been part of his vocabulary.
“You know Dan would only send his best.”
Her ponytail bounced as she nodded. “I know Uncle Dan’s dependable, but you yourself said we were going to be shorthanded. So I’m here to volunteer for whatever job you need. Oh, and I passed Micky Flynn and Doyle Brown on the way in. They should be here soon.”
“I’m glad some of my firefighters are finally showing up, but—”
“Here. Do you mind?” She leaned in and pulled out a large flat box from the passenger seat. Once she handed the package off to her father, she propped her hands against her hips, rolled her shoulders back and stretched, tipping her face to the rain and breathing deeply, as if she found the cool drops a soothing comfort. “Mmm. I love this moisture. My garden’s going to love it, too. Everything’s so dry.”
“Now, honey, you know damn well that…”
The rest of Mitch’s warning got lost in the pounding alarm stopping up Nate’s ears. Her arched posture had pulled her loose clothes taut.
She was pregnant. Maybe four or five months’ worth, judging by the subtle yet distinctive swell of her belly. Mitch was going to be a grandpa. No wonder he wanted her to stay home.
The blue-eyed angel with the nonstop mouth was pregnant.
The attraction humming through Nate’s body braked into regretful silence. He didn’t need to be lusting after somebody else’s woman.
Wait a minute. She was pregnant?
A familiar sense of urgency buzzed his senses back on full alert.
She was Mitch’s idea of a volunteer?
Every doubt that had been temporarily laid to rest resurfaced.
No wonder he’d called Dan Egan for help.
“I figured Aunt Jean’s Café wouldn’t be open this morning.” Mitch’s daughter pulled a second box from the truck, then closed the door with a subtle wiggle of her hip. She was smiling. Beaming like a ray of sunshine, despite the rain, the clouds and her father’s scowl.
“So I got up early and baked some cinnamon rolls for the briefing this morning. If I know you, you didn’t eat any breakfast.” She winked. Nate zeroed in on the movement, fascinated by her animated expression and the spell she seemed to be casting over her father. “And I know you. C’mon. Let’s eat one while they’re still warm. I made them without nuts the way you like them. I’ll brew some fresh coffee to go with them, too.”
She hiked the box higher in her arms and marched across the parking lot, heading straight toward Nate and the front door. Mitch’s big shoulders expanded with a sigh before he fell into step behind her.
“Promise me, all you’ll do is make coffee and then go home?” Mitch asked.
But Nate had a feeling the concession had fallen on