until just last week. She really was his partner. And she had more than fifty honorary aunts and uncles from his crews.
But she’d never really had a mother.
Lightning struck again, reminding him that she did have a father and she was probably missing him. Tucking Dog-dog inside his raincoat, Colin gathered up the luggage—one old UCLA gym bag and one brandnew Snow White rolling suitcase.
Snow White, he thought with gritted teeth as he ran for the front porch again. He’d had the same reaction to Abby the first day he’d become aware of the little girl growing up on the property next to Torthúil. She’d been farther upstream with her family on a picnic. The current had caught her inner tube and carried her away from them. She’d been unconcerned and laughing happily when he’d fished her out of the river near Torthúil’s levee. And the resemblance to the fairy-tale princess had only strengthened as she’d grown.
She’d truly looked the part by the time she’d hit her teenage years. It was about then that he’d realized his affection for his sister’s friend had grown into something more. Much more. He’d known she was too young for him and had enlisted in the army as soon as he graduated high school that next summer, hoping to put distance between them.
But as predicted by an old saying of his mother’s, absence had really made his heart grow fonder or he’d never have weakened four years later when he’d come home for his sister Tracy’s graduation. It had been Abby’s graduation, too. He’d thought Abby was still as innocent as her fairy-tale alter ego that day. But he’d been wrong. She had turned into a seductress in his absence.
Colin entered the lobby and froze in place. Jessie sat on the step below Abby happily having her hair combed, which was nothing short of a miracle since that really meant having it untangled. It was one of the few bones of contention between them. She didn’t want it cut short, but she didn’t want the tangles combed out, either.
“When we get this done, we’ll braid it,” Abby told Jessie. “If you wear it to bed braided, it won’t tangle as much. A satin pillowcase usually helps, too. I’ll give your daddy one to put on your pillow tonight. And there’s a rinse in your bathroom to help keep it silky so it tangles less to begin with. There. Now we braid it,” she said, drawing out the syllables as her fingers flew through Jessie’s hair, deftly doing as she’d promised. In seconds she was tying off a smooth sleek braid that hung down his daughter’s back.
“And now it’s done,” Abby went on. “Okay, hair combed and braided, hands and face washed. Looks like all you have left is to get your pj’s on and brush your teeth, and have your bedtime snack!”
“I even get a snack?” Jessie said with dreamy wonder. “Are you sure this isn’t a palace? What kind of cookies you have?”
After his thoughts in the car, seeing Abigail Hopewell attending his child so lovingly nearly took him to his knees. Jessie’s own mother had never shown her the easy kind of affection Abby seemed to dole out so naturally. Then he remembered what she’d done to him and he realized he shouldn’t let her within a country mile of his child. If it weren’t for his worry for Jessie at Torthúil, he’d whisk her out of here so fast Abby would barely see his dust.
“Well, let’s see. I think Genevieve made shortbread. And we always have lots of milk, of course,” she was saying to Jessie.
“Jessie’s allergic to milk,” he growled.
Jessie frowned, clearly wondering what was wrong with him since she rarely heard that tone of voice. At the same time Abby’s gaze snapped from him to Jessie with alarm. “I’m so sorry, sweetie, I had no idea but it’s okay, I have soy milk, too. Do you like that?”
“Uh-huh. Can I have some, Daddy?”
It was small of him, but Jessie looked so hopeful about having a treat—and if he wasn’t wrong, some more time with Abby—that he felt left out. He was Jessie’s hero and he wanted it to stay that way. “Sure, partner,” he said as cheerfully as he could manage. “But there’s someone here who was pretty scared out in the car. I’ll bet she’d like to have some hugs from her person.” He pulled out her stuffed companion.
“Dog-dog!” Jessie shrieked and ran to him, warming Colin’s heart with her grateful smile.
Abby stood, too, her face blank. Her tone became chilly. “I’ll bring her snack to your room. If you wouldn’t mind finding it on your own, it’s at the top of the stairs to the left. Number Ten.” She handed him the key and when their hands brushed he felt the familiar traitorous surge of raw need rush through him, something he remembered from all those years ago. And unless Colin missed his guess when Abby’s eyes flew to his, she’d felt it, too.
Colin snatched his hand back and frowned. This wouldn’t do. He had reasons for returning and Abby had nothing to do with them. “We can find it on our own,” he assured her. And once there he’d bolt the door against all she was still able to make him feel. “About the snack, we wouldn’t want to put you out. Jessie doesn’t need one. I’m sure you aren’t in the habit of playing waitress.”
Abby arched one of her finely shaped eyebrows. Her emerald eyes had gone as hard as stone, telling him that though she felt the same attraction she once had she didn’t want feelings for him, either. “Actually, I often cater to my guests. It’s my job. And I love it. I’ll be up with Jessie’s snack in a few minutes. Oh, and there’s an en suite bathroom in your room so you won’t need to worry that Jessie will wander in the middle of the night.”
Colin watched her go, childishly tempted to stick his tongue out at her retreating back. He raked a hand through his hair. Dear God, he’d lost at least five hundred points off the maturity scale since walking in the front door. Why was he letting her do this to him?
Because she’s always done things to you. That’s what caused all the trouble in the first place. She’s never even needed to try.
“She isn’t Snow White, you know,” Jessie said, her voice full of awe. “But isn’t she won’erful?”
Colin could think of plenty of other words, but he tried to keep his tone calm for Jessie. “Let’s get you upstairs and ready for bed,” he all but growled.
And then he’d figure out a way to rid himself of the still-powerful attraction he apparently felt for Abby. Once and for all.
Chapter Two
Abby set the glass of vanilla-flavored soy milk and a plate of cookies on the tray, then added the crystal bud vase and the rose she’d picked earlier to save it from the approaching storm. She surveyed her work and nodded in approval. She wanted the evening to be special for Jessie since Torthúil had been such a disappointment to her. Besides, she thought every little girl should feel like a princess at least once in her life.
She smiled, remembering when she and her sisters were that age. All those magical bedtime rituals— snacks and stories, kisses and special toys. They always had their mother and Hannah Canton, their ever-faithful and affectionate housekeeper, fussing over them. Apparently Jessie had no one but a father who clearly didn’t even know how to avoid tangles in her hair.
With that thought fresh in her mind, Abby stopped as she passed the linen closet. She pulled down the satin pillowcase she’d mentioned and tucked it under her arm before moving like a rusted tin soldier toward the end of the hall.
She stood frozen at the door to Number Ten, afraid to face Colin again. What was the matter with her? This nervousness was a far cry from the righteous anger she wanted to feel. Should feel. In spite of what he’d done, this was attraction. Dangerous attraction. Her unwavering love for him hadn’t faded even after he’d rejected her so cruelly in front of his friend. Abby had held out hope that he’d arrive at Hopewell Manor to tell her he’d been trying to protect her reputation from Harley’s wagging tongue. But when she’d learned he’d left town ahead of schedule, Abby had buried her foolish, passionate dreams.
She’d forced herself to date two other men since that awful night. One had