had shifted in their little brother. He was a little bit angry and too determined to find the mother who had walked out on them twenty years ago.
Duke hadn’t yet got around to telling Samantha, their little sister, about Lilly. She was in college and doing better than she had been a few years ago. She’d finally forgiven them for sending her away. Maybe she was actually starting to see that they’d done her a favor.
As he walked toward the booth, Lilly looked up at him, her blue eyes issuing a challenge. Claim me or else, those eyes said. He had no problem claiming her. What he wanted more than anything was to wipe away the anger and hurt. From her expression and from Oregon’s. How did he do that?
How did he go from bachelor to father? With only twenty-four hours behind them, he was still struggling with that. His first instinct was to give his kid a pony. Oregon had made it clear Lilly had to earn the money. Instead, he’d given them a house to live in.
He needed to make them a family. It wasn’t a comfortable thought. He hadn’t ever imagined himself married. Not even close. He definitely hadn’t imagined kids. He loved his twin nieces, Violet and Rose, but he hadn’t imagined having any of his own. For a lot of reasons. How would he know how to be a dad when his own parents had checked out? Why would he want to give up a pretty easy life as a bachelor?
He now had an answer to that last question. When a man faced a kid like Lilly, it became easy to think of giving up the single life.
“How about some lunch?” he offered, because it seemed to him that Oregon would be more likely to take lunch from him than a marriage proposal. What had he been thinking, proposing to her in a hospital hallway? He might be a bachelor, but he did know a thing or two about romance.
“Cheeseburger and fries, and a strawberry shake.” Lilly ordered with the slightest hint of a smile.
Oregon stared at the menu blankly.
Duke grabbed a chair from a nearby table, turned it backward and sat with his arms rested on the chair back. Oregon glanced his way, her gray eyes wary. She refocused on the menu she still held in hands that trembled just the slightest bit. He waited, giving her time. He knew this game. It was like breaking a horse. Slow and gentle, giving them time to trust, to accept.
Trust. He had a feeling neither of them were really big on trusting. He’d watched her for the past year, easing into the community, keeping to herself for the most part, then eventually letting a few people in.
He’d been abandoned by his own mother. He understood what it meant to have trust issues. He also knew he couldn’t fix everything. As a medic in the army, he’d tried. And he’d walked away, disillusioned with his own abilities and with God, because he knew God had to hear him screaming for help saving those kids.
He cleared his throat, coming back to the present, away from dark memories that he usually kept at bay until night. Oregon watched him closely with eyes that seemed to see too much.
“So what about you?” he asked as he studied her face. He shifted his gaze to Lilly. Not for the first time he wondered how he’d been so blind. Breezy had told him she noticed the first time she met Lilly. Jake had nodded, as if everyone had seen the resemblance.
“I’ll take a chef salad,” Oregon answered.
He started to stand but Ned was there, round face smiling big and her graying auburn hair in a long ponytail. Nedine, fifty and happily single, was half hippy and half rancher, and when she settled her hand on his shoulder, he didn’t argue. He stayed put.
“I’ve got this, boss.” She winked and held up her order pad. “How about I fix you some lunch and you can join the ladies?”
“I’ll take the same as Lilly. And thank you.”
She winked and walked away. He stood, moving his chair back to the neighboring table. Lilly scooted, making room for him in the booth. He slid in next to her, their shoulders bumping. He looked down, and she looked up at him, her teeth biting into her bottom lip as she studied his face.
Was she seeing the resemblance? he wondered. He guessed she was because she frowned, first at him and then at her mom.
Oregon’s cheeks turned pink, and she focused on the napkin in her hands. He had to get control of the situation. That was the first step in this new life of his. Staying in control.
“I’ve got Ned and Joe working tonight.” At the mention of Joe, Oregon looked up. Suspicion settled in her eyes, because that’s the reaction everyone in town had to the drifter who had shown up before Christmas.
Oregon thanked Ned, who set a glass of sweet tea in front of her and the shakes in front of Lilly and himself. The waitress scurried away, fast for a woman so large.
“I thought I’d take the night off and help you move.”
“Oh, I see.”
Did she have another plan? Someone else who would help?
“Is that okay?” He leaned forward, folding his large frame a little so that he didn’t tower over Oregon and his daughter. Even sitting, he knew he towered. A man who was six foot eight knew he could be intimidating.
“Yes, of course,” Lilly answered, sounding way too grown-up. That gave him pause. She was twelve, but she would soon grow up.
He got a little itchy thinking about that. She’d be a teenager. She’d date. There would be boys knocking on the door, and she would get in a car and go out with them. He swallowed a lump of fear that got tangled up with premature anger. If the boys were anything like him, they weren’t coming near Lilly.
A foot connected with his shin, and he managed not to squawk at the sharp pain. He glanced at the woman sitting across from him as she gave him a warning look.
“What?” he fairly snarled.
“That’s my cue to take a walk.” Lilly pushed his shoulder. “Grown-up talk time. And I don’t even know why. I get a family and suddenly we can’t sit down to a meal without the adults acting like they’re at war.”
He moved from the booth and watched as she situated her crutches and scurried away. She glanced back over her shoulder. “I’m going to the kitchen. Let me know when you’re done talking about me.”
Duke folded himself back into the booth and felt like a ten-year-old kid that had been sent to the principal’s office. He glanced at the woman sitting across from him. She didn’t openly smile, but he saw her lips start to curve, the flicker of amusement in her eyes.
“Did we say something that made her think we needed time to talk?” he asked.
Her grin became the real deal. He loved that gesture, the way it shifted her face, and the sweetness settled in her eyes. That smile made him regret the past, making him not so sorry about the present or the future. But nervous. Yeah, still nervous.
“You looked like a thundercloud,” Oregon responded, and he blinked.
“What does that mean?”
“You were sitting there all calm and gentle giant-like, and suddenly you became a rumbling mountain about to erupt.”
“I didn’t realize.”
“No, I’m sure you didn’t. You rumble. It almost sounds like a growl. And I’m sure Lilly is wondering why.”
He leaned back in the seat, the vinyl cushion lumpy from overuse, ripped a bit in one spot. He’d have to fix that. Oregon kicked him again, this time without the power of that first time. He opened his eyes and looked at her.
“I was thinking about the fact that I just got this kid, and in the next few years she’s going to become a young lady,” he admitted, feeling all kinds of insecurity that a grown man shouldn’t feel. “And she’ll, well, she’ll date. Boys. I’ll have to hurt them.”
Oregon laughed, the sound so easy and warm that it slid over him like summer rain. He soaked it up, like a man dying of