asked.
“Dana said she wouldn’t leave Danny with me until she was perfectly satisfied I could take care of him. Checking out the suitability of where he’ll live ought to be high on the list.”
“What about the lawyer hired by Danny’s father?” Dana asked.
“Let’s work on the assumption we’re keeping Danny.”
Dana nodded, opened the door and went out to the back porch.
“Do you think she’ll do it?” Marshall asked.
“I don’t know. It was a terrific shock.”
Marshall laughed. “I thought all women swooned at the thought of marrying a hunk like you.”
“She nearly did.”
Both men laughed, but Marshall sobered quickly. “What about you?”
“It’ll only be for a few weeks or a couple of months.”
“I wondered if after Ellen…”
“This isn’t the same.”
“You got that right. Dana isn’t a lying, deceitful witch. If she’s going to shaft you, she’ll tell you right to your face.”
“Why don’t you fix your sidewalks?” Dana asked.
They were walking back toward the heart of the community, the street and lawns shaded by huge oaks.
“We like them cracked and uneven,” Gabe replied.
“A person could break a leg.”
“Half the town learned to walk stepping over them.”
“Strangers didn’t.”
“We don’t have many strangers. And those we get stay at the ski lodge or go straight to the camp.”
“How about the people who come to the hotel?” she asked, referring to the huge, pre-Civil War building with wide verandahs on all three levels that towered over the surrounding houses.
“People come to the hotel to get away from their ordinary lives,” he told Dana. “They like the cracks in the sidewalks, the sixteen-foot ceilings, the rocking chairs on the verandas. Some of them come back every year just to sit and rock for a whole week.”
“I couldn’t stand that,” she said.
“I know.”
She whipped around. “What to you mean by that?”
He didn’t know how she walked in those heels without stumbling, though he had to admit they set her legs off to good advantage. Of course her legs would have looked good even if she’d been barefoot.
“Are you going to answer me, or are you going to stare at me as if I’m a piece of wood whose grain you’re judging?”
He grinned. “You’re much finer to look at than any piece of wood I’ve ever worked with. As for your grain—”
“I didn’t intend for you to take me so literally.”
She became uneasy under his scrutiny, looked away hastily, moved ahead quickly. It pleased him to know a country boy could rattle a woman used to the fast lane.
“We should be talking about Danny.”
Danny scampered along ahead of them, peeping through fences, walking in the bottom of the dry ditch, peering into drain pipes. He didn’t have any trouble with the sidewalk. Whenever a piece of concrete tilted a little too high for him to step on the crack, he jumped it. But he stopped frequently to make sure Dana followed close behind.
“Okay, we’ll talk about Danny.”
But talking about Danny wasn’t safe, either. It brought up Marshall’s preposterous idea. Gabe still couldn’t believe he’d suggested it. People didn’t do things like that anymore. Still, Gabe couldn’t dismiss the thought of marrying Dana.
He didn’t know what kind of suit she was wearing, or what kind of material it was made of, but he did know he’d never seen anything cling to and outline a body more effectively. Each time he dropped back to allow her to precede him where shrubs overhung the sidewalk, he marveled at her long legs, slim hips and small waist. He didn’t care if it came naturally or if she spent twenty hours a week in a gym. He practically had to clench his fists to keep from reaching out to touch her.
“How did Danny get along with Elton?” Gabe forced himself to walk alongside Dana, his gaze on Danny just ahead.
“Fine as long as the cookies lasted,” she replied. “Naomi said he seemed a little lost after that.”
“How come?”
“He doesn’t know how to play. He hasn’t had a chance to be around other children.”
Gabe couldn’t deceive himself into thinking the boy would soon forget Dana. Despite Marshall’s advice, he had no intention of attempting to tear Danny from Dana’s arms. If he and his mother wanted to be equally important to this child, they had to give and earn similar feelings of love and security. Gabe doubted two weeks would be enough.
Seeing how much Danny loved and depended on Dana—how deeply she was attached to him—forced Gabe to amend at least part of his opinion of Dana. She was obviously warm and nurturing in her relationship with Danny. Being separated would hurt Danny as much as Dana. Maybe more.
“Did you have a good time with Elton?” Gabe asked Danny.
Danny nodded, ducked his head, ran back to Dana and hugged her around the legs. She picked him up, and he wrapped his arms tightly around her neck. She didn’t seem the least bit conscious of the damage done to her expensive clothes.
Gabe wasn’t sure he could afford to think about Dana’s good qualities. The moment he did, visions of having her naked in his bed turned his thoughts to charcoal. He could forget her seductive charm as long as she stayed in New York, but he had trouble remembering the dangers of being attracted to a woman like her when she walked just ahead of him.
If he had half a brain, he wouldn’t think about that at all. A beautiful, smart, aggressive career woman, expecting to get anything she wanted, she came dangerously close to being like his ex-wife. Whether he wanted to admit it or not, he was more attracted to Dana than to any woman he’d met in more than ten years. Being told he had to marry her in order to gain permanent custody of Danny merely gave his libido license to go into overdrive.
“Danny will get along with the other kids just fine,” Dana said as she set Danny down again. He started forward, walking on the cracks. “All he needs is a little time. Mattie and I both thought he was too young to go to play school.”
Gabe didn’t think Danny was upset so much as clinging to someone familiar in strange situations. But until he got to know his nephew, he couldn’t be sure what the child needed or wanted. For the time being, he’d have to depend on Dana. And he would listen to her advice. He wanted the very best for his nephew.
“Why don’t we stop at Hannah’s for ice cream?” Gabe asked.
“It’ll spoil his dinner.”
“I don’t remember it ruining yours,” Gabe said with a sudden smile. “And you had it often enough. I dished it up, remember?”
“Want ice cream,” Danny said.
“Now see what you’ve done.”
Gabe chucked Danny under the chin. “What kind do you like?”
“’Nilla.”
“I won’t have you trying to buy his affections,” Dana warned.
Gabe felt a spurt of anger, but he supposed in a way that’s what he was doing.
“I’ve got to start somewhere, and I don’t have any chocolate chip cookies. I have to go inside the