woman’s cheeks turned beet red and it was all Drew could do to keep from groaning out loud.
“I’m so sorry, Miss Weaver. My son definitely needs more lessons in manners. You see, he, uh, is on a search to find his dad a girlfriend,” Drew attempted to explain.
“No! Not a girlfriend,” Dillon immediately corrected. “I’m gonna find him a wife!”
The sound of conversations were all around them and throughout the crowd were spates of laughter, along with shouts and squeals from playing children. Yet the short space between Drew and Josselyn Weaver felt thick with silence.
“Oh. Well, that’s a serious search,” she said, her dubious gaze landing on Drew’s face.
Mortified at the whole situation, Drew grabbed Dillon by the hand. “Uh—we have to be going. It’s been nice meeting you, Miss Weaver.”
Before she could say more, Drew quickly urged his son away from the pretty librarian.
Dillon instantly complained, “Dad, why are you leaving Miss Weaver? She was really nice! And pretty, too! And she liked talking to us. I could tell!”
His expression grim, Drew stared straight ahead as he hurried his son through the crowd. “I think we’ve done enough picnicking for one day, son. We’re going home.”
“Why are we going home?” Dillon stubbornly demanded. “We haven’t talked to everybody yet.”
“We didn’t come to the picnic to talk to everybody,” Drew said, trying to keep the thread of anger in his voice from unraveling completely. “And we certainly didn’t come to pick out girlfriends or wives, or any such thing as that.”
“Aw, Dad, you’re messing up bad,” Dillon grumbled. “You’re letting a good one get away.”
The comment had Drew glancing down at his son. What could a seven-year-old boy know about women? Apparently quite a bit, Drew thought. Josselyn Weaver was beautiful and intelligent and sweet. The kind of woman a man searched for in a lifelong mate. But Drew wasn’t searching for a mate. Short-or long-term. And the quicker Dillon got that through his head, the better.
“We’re not on a fishing trip, Dillon.”
“That’s right,” Dillon said sullenly. “Gramps takes me fishing. Not you.”
Gramps. Yes, in one short month Dillon and his great-grandfather had formed a strong bond between them. And Drew was glad Old Gene had taken such an interest in Dillon. He was pleased that his son had found a solid male figure to connect with while they were here in Rust Creek Falls. Yet Drew couldn’t help but be envious of the close connection. It was something he’d never had with his son. And to make matters worse, Drew had no one to blame for the distance between them except himself.
A stronger man wouldn’t have allowed the death of his wife to cripple him to the point that he needed help just making it through the day, much less taking care of a baby. A man of deeper character would have never buried himself in his work and allowed his son to be raised by others.
Drew didn’t know whether moving to this little mountain town had opened his eyes or if the fact that Dillon seemed to be growing up at a rapid rate was making him look at his life differently. But either way, Drew realized he wanted to make a change. One that would bring him closer to his son.
That evening on Sunshine Farm in her cozy little cabin, Josselyn sat cross-legged on the couch and stared blankly at the TV perched in one corner of the living room. After a very long day at the town picnic, she’d thought she would unwind by watching one of her favorite programs, but so far her mind refused to latch onto the plot. The characters could’ve been speaking in a foreign language for the past thirty minutes and she would’ve never noticed.
Josselyn aimed the remote at the TV and pressed the off button. She was wasting her time, she thought. Ever since the school picnic had ended and she’d driven home, she hadn’t been able to think about anything except Drew Strickland and his adorable son.
When the two of them had first approached her, she’d guessed the mother had been somewhere in the crowd visiting with friends. But then Dillon had made that comment about finding his father a wife and blown her assumption to pieces.
So where was Dillon’s mother? she wondered for the umpteenth time. Even if the boy’s parents were divorced, the mother should’ve found the fortitude to put her differences with her ex aside and attended the school picnic with her son.
With a sigh of frustration, she tossed aside the remote and left the couch. Darn it! Why couldn’t she quit thinking about the dad and son?
Probably because the dad was drop-dead delicious, she thought as she gazed out the window at the shadowy patch of lawn in front of her cabin. Even now, hours after their impromptu meeting at the park, his image was still burned in her brain. Tall, long-legged and lean, Drew Strickland was a genuine Doctor Dreamy. Dark brown hair, cut in a short, ruffled style, had framed a face dominated by brown eyes and a pair of firm lips that were bracketed by the most gorgeous dimples she’d ever seen on a man.
The doctor ought to be carrying a warning hazard to all women who came within ten feet of him, she thought with a wistful sigh. And if that wasn’t bad enough, his son had been so cute and endearing she’d wanted to snatch him up in a tight bear hug.
So Dr. Drew Strickland has enough sex appeal to rob a woman of her breath. And his son is the kind of kid that touches the very middle of your heart. That doesn’t mean you have any business thinking about them. They’re both heart trouble walking on two legs. You need to forget them and get on with your life.
Yes, getting on with her life was the very reason she’d moved to Rust Creek Falls in the first place, Josselyn reminded herself. She hadn’t studied long and hard to acquire a master’s in library science just to get herself mixed up with a lost cause. One that would end up dealing her far more misery than happiness.
A few weeks ago, Josselyn had been living in Laramie, Wyoming, in an apartment not far from her parents, Velma and Walt Weaver. Her two older brothers, Lloyd and Cameron, both worked on a prominent cattle ranch outside the city, while her younger sister, Patti, was still living with their parents as she finished up her last year of college. The Weavers had always been a tight-knit group, and none of them except for her mother had understood Josselyn’s need to move and start a life away from the place where she’d been born and raised. If her father and siblings had it their way, she’d still be there, making the same rounds with the same group of people she’d known since kindergarten.
Earning her diploma had opened a whole new world to Josselyn, where fresh faces and exciting opportunities waited around each corner. Ignoring her family’s argument to remain near Laramie, she’d begun searching for jobs in neighboring Montana. Once she’d landed the library position at Rust Creek Falls Elementary, she’d turned her focus to finding a place to live. Somewhere far away from concrete and busy streets.
The moment she’d spotted an article somewhere about Sunshine Farm located near Rust Creek Falls, she’d been instantly intrigued. The piece had been about Amy Wainwright and how the woman had visited the farm to attend the wedding of a friend and eventually ended up finding her own true love, prompting the journalist to dub the farm the Lonelyhearts Ranch.
The story of Amy’s happy ending had perfectly fit Josselyn’s sunny attitude about life. Sunshine Farm was a place where loving couples chose to take their wedding vows, plus it had a guesthouse for folks who wanted to forget the past and make a fresh start. Josselyn wasn’t running from a heartbreaking past. Nor was she planning a wedding for herself. She didn’t even have a boyfriend, much less a fiancé. All the same, Sunshine Farm, or the Lonelyhearts Ranch, whichever name a person chose to call it, was the perfect home for her.
Thoughtfully, she turned away from the window and plucked up a white