Country Romance - Carolyne Aarsen Page 0,46

yet not enough.

But she realized that they needed to move slowly. Carefully.

So she brushed her hand over his cheek and then turned away from him before she changed her mind.

The scent of supper cooking greeted Wyatt as he came into the house Monday evening. It made his mouth water and his heart warm.

The nanny he had hired only worked until four, so he was usually on his own with the girls for supper.

Theresa's idea of cooking was heating hot dogs or chicken strips. If he wanted anything different, he had to cook it himself.

Tonight his house smelled like the home his mother kept.

He sat down, tugged his heavy winter boots off, and then pulled off his coveralls. Snow still crusted the bottoms of the coveralls and his boots. Inevitable, considering how much had come down the past few days. He had tried to shovel the sidewalk a couple of times, but it was a herculean effort to move all that snow.

Adele wouldn't be leaving any time soon.

The thought created a mixture of emotions. Relief on the one hand. Concern on the other. After last night he knew they had stepped over a line that would be hard to come back from.

He had his daughters to think about, he reminded himself as he set his boots on the boot rack. And now, Dean.

Wyatt blew out his breath, still adjusting to the reality of Dean being his son. That will take some doing, he said to himself.

"Daddy, you’re here," Maya announced, leaning into the porch. "We are having supper soon."

"Well, then it's good I came in when I did," he said, picking her up and giving her a tight hug.

"Oooh, you’re all cold," she said, bracketing his cheeks with her hands. "And your hair is wet."

"From the snow," he said, setting her down away from the melting snow on the porch floor. "It's still snowing out there."

"We can go sliding," she announced, grabbing his hand and leading him into the house.

"No, honey. It's too windy and snowy out there yet." Wyatt's eyes slipped to Adele, who stood by the counter, chopping up vegetables for salad. She looked up at him in that same moment, and once again he had this feeling of time stopping.

A sense that everything and everyone around them fell away, and it was just the two of them.

Then he blinked, and she looked away and the feeling left.

But the memory stayed.

"I imagine the driveway is still blown in," Adele said, her voice gruff, her head now bent to her task.

"Yes. It would take me at least two days to clear it out if it wasn't storming, and with the snow still coming down, it's not worth doing."

"I heard a report on the radio that the county roads are still impassible."

"I imagine the school busses aren't running either."

"No. I just heard a notice coming in on the radio."

Wyatt had to smile. He remembered his parents having the same kind of conversation in this very kitchen. Ordinary talk about life.

"Look at my picture," Maria said, holding up a piece of paper that she’d been coloring. Bright pink and purple streaks filled the image he suspected Adele had printed off for her.

"That's great," he said, crouching down beside her. "You did such a good job."

"She didn't stay in the lines," Maya said, frowning at her sister's attempt.

"She picked pretty colors," Dean put in, looking up from the cowboy picture he was working on.

Wyatt's heart warmed to the little boy's compliment, counteracting Maya's criticism.

"She certainly did." He smiled at Dean, who looked shyly up at him. Probably still not sure where to put this man in his life.

That makes two of us, Wyatt thought. He gave in to an impulse, however, and touched Dean's shoulder, letting his fingers rest there, creating a small connection.

His reward was a beaming smile.

He's an easy kid to love, he thought.

"Sorry to tell you kids this, but we need to clear the table for dinner," Adele announced, coming to join the group.

"We're having sgetti," Maria said as she obediently gathered up the crayons.

"That's great. I love sgetti almost as much as I love spaghetti," Wyatt said, unable to resist another sidelong glance at Adele. She was laughing, and the sight warmed his heart.

"I want to finish my picture," Maya announced, bent over her paper, her tongue peeking out from between her lips.

"Adele said we have to clean up." Dean dropped his crayons in the tin on the table.

"Don't want to," Maya said.

"We have to listen to Adele," Dean