Blackbird Lake (9 page)

When I’m not here.

She began to close the door before he could say another word, but at that precise moment, a dog began howling loudly enough to wake an entire graveyard—long, piercing, rouse-the-dead howls—and she saw with a shock that the sounds were coming from the big mutt crouched in the passenger seat of Jake’s truck.

The wailing shattered all the peacefulness of the night and to her horror, she heard Emma suddenly start to cry.

Crap!

Then things got worse. She heard more crying. Then a thump, which seemed to come from Austin’s room, immediately followed by a piercing cry. Next Ashley started to shriek, short, high-pitched sobs.

All three kids crying? At once?

“Damn. Sorry about that.” Glancing over his shoulder, Jake frowned at the baying dog in his truck. But turning back to the sexy-as-hell beauty in the doorway, he was struck not only by her obvious coolness toward him, but by the scarcely masked panic now flashing in her eyes.

She obviously wasn’t too crazy about dogs, especially ones who howled and awakened small children. And she obviously didn’t have the same warm memories he did of their night together.

She tried to close the door in his face yet again, but he stuck a booted foot in the threshold and placed one strong palm against the door. “Sounds like you have your hands full here…this is my fault, let me help—”

“You’ve done enough. Help me by leaving—and take that dog with you! Just go!” Spinning around, Carly darted back into the living room, accompanied by more deafening howls from the truck.

Emma was screaming at the top of her lungs.

What if she fell off the sofa? Maybe she’s hurt!
Carly thought, panic clutching at her chest, but as she neared the sofa she saw with relief that Emma hadn’t fallen at all. She was sitting up, sobbing, her face soaked with tears—probably because she didn’t know where she was, and the damned howling dog had woken her up.

“Mumma!” she screamed as Carly scooped her into her arms.

“You’re okay, Emmy. You’re fine. Mommy’s right here.” Forcing her voice to a low, calming pitch, she smoothed Emma’s damp hair back from her face. “Go back to sleep. You’re fine, baby. Everything is fine.”

But Emma didn’t seem to believe her and actually, Austin and Ashley didn’t
sound
fine. They were both crying to raise the roof and she took off up the stairs with Emma still sobbing, cradled against her shoulder. She reached Austin’s room first. The seven-year-old was sprawled on the floor beside his bed, tears pouring down his cheeks.

“I f-fell out of bed,” he wailed. “Mommy!” He stared wide-eyed at Carly. “Where’s
Mommy
?”

“Sweetie, Mommy had to go meet your daddy. She’ll be home soon. Tell me where it hurts. Did you hit your head?”

Holding Emma against her shoulder, she knelt and tried
to hug Austin with her free arm, but he twisted away from her, still sobbing inconsolably.

Ashley was yelling her little head off from her bedroom.

Great. Three crying kids. Jake outside the door.
I might start crying next,
she thought grimly, gently stroking Austin’s back with her free hand.

At least the dog had stopped howling.

A moment later she saw why.

Jake wasn’t outside. Neither was the dog. They were both in the house, standing ten feet away, in Austin’s doorway.

“How can I help?” Jake asked.

“Leave!” she ordered. Her heart was pounding. Jake and Emma. In the same room.

This couldn’t be happening….

“Go. Now!” she snapped. But Austin had seen the dog and magically he stopped crying. She knew the little boy had been begging Karla and Denny for a dog the last few months, and now, seeing the big mutt wagging its tail in the doorway, he just stared at it, his mouth wide open.

“Whose dog is that? Did M-Mommy and Daddy get him for me?”

“No, honey. It’s Mr. Tanner’s dog. Mr. Tanner is…um, a friend of your daddy’s. How about this—you stay with him for just a minute and you can pet the dog. I need to check on your sister.”

Emma’s sobs had finally subsided and she leaned her head against Carly’s shoulder as Carly whirled, dodging right past Jake Tanner and his dog without a word, bolting toward Ashley’s bedroom. The little girl was just tumbling out the door of her pink and purple bedroom, dressed in Hello Kitty pajamas.

“I want Mommy!” she gasped, followed by a hiccup. Tears slid down her cheeks.

“Your mommy will be home real soon, angel. Everything is fine.” Still holding Emma close, Carly knelt and hugged Ashley with her free hand. Then she gently stroked the little
girl’s damp hair back from her face. “Ashley, do you…do you want to see a doggie?”

“I heard a doggie…it woke me up. It was crying!” Ashley leaned against her, snuggling. “Why was it crying? Why is Emma here?” she asked suddenly, and a smile broke across her face. She sniffled and stopped crying, then leaned toward Emma and kissed her cheek.

Emma peered at Ashley. Reaching out, she poked one tiny finger against the side of the little girl’s nose. Ashley laughed, and so did Emma.

“Okay, how about everyone goes back to sleep?” Carly suggested, surging to her feet.

“I’m thirsty.” Ashley gazed pleadingly up at Carly with huge teary eyes.

“Okay. One glass of water coming right up. You climb back into bed now, honey, and I’ll bring it to you.”

The next few moments rushed by in a blur as she brought Ashley water, then tucked her into bed, holding Emma all the while. Emma thankfully was falling back asleep, her head on Carly’s shoulder, her eyelids fluttering.

Carly took deep calming breaths as she carried her daughter back to the sofa, laid her gently down on the makeshift bed, and pushed the protective cushions into place once more. She covered Emma with the blanket, stared at her a moment as her own heartbeat finally slowed, and then spun back toward Austin’s room.

But she froze on the spot because Jake was standing in the hall watching her, and the big, now-silent mutt sat quietly, innocently, by his side.
That dog’s just pretending innocence,
she thought.

“Sorry about all the commotion.” His eyes alight with both apology and amusement, Jake came toward her.

Toward Emma.

Carly felt her blood turn as cold as river ice. She knew she had to try to appear casual. Normal. Calm. But she didn’t feel any of those things.

Jake was here in the same room with his daughter,
breathing the same air, less than ten feet away from his own child, and he had no clue.
All because of me,
she thought grimly.
Because I never told him.

She’d made the decision two years before that she wasn’t going to tell him anything about the baby, not ever. For his own good, as much for him as for Emma, she reminded herself now as she met those steady blue eyes.

What he didn’t know wouldn’t hurt him. And it wouldn’t hurt Emma, either—not the way it would if she knew she had a father who didn’t want to be a real part of her life.

“Is Austin okay?” she asked quickly, praying she didn’t look as freaked out as she felt.

“Probably sound asleep again by now.” Jake’s voice was quiet, even. “I let him pet Bronco—” He nodded toward the skinny mutt, who now looked as docile and well behaved as a prize-winning poodle at a dog show. “Then I promised him we’d come back tomorrow so the two of them could play fetch in the backyard.” He gave his head a shake. “Whew, you sure had your hands full. That was my fault. Sorry.”

It took every drop of willpower she possessed to keep from stepping instinctively between him and Emma as he advanced toward the sofa.

Toward their daughter.

An enormous lump filled her throat as he peered down at the little girl with the wispy curls draped across her cheeks.

Emma looked like a real-life, honest-to-goodness cherub. Beautiful. Sweet. Innocent. Deeply asleep now, her tiny fingers clutched the soft peach-colored throw tucked around her shoulders.

“Who’s
this
amazing little heartbreaker?” Jake asked softly. “Since she doesn’t have a bed of her own in this house, I’m guessing she’s yours.”

“Ye-es. My daughter. Emma.” Carly tried to ignore the bubble of fear and tension expanding in her chest.

“Wow, what pretty hair. She looks so much like you. I’m sure you must know how beautiful she is.” His gaze lingered on Emma, and a smile tugged at his lips before he turned
slowly away and fixed those disconcertingly direct eyes on Carly.

“So. You’re married now. Damn. Just my luck.” Even as the rueful grin split across his face, he automatically glanced down to her left hand and registered with a small jolt of surprise that she wasn’t wearing a wedding band.

Or, for that matter, an engagement ring.

“Oops. Or…not,” he added easily, with a wider grin and a shrug of his shoulders. There was neither a question nor judgment in his eyes.

“
So
not married,” she answered quickly, with a shrug. But a flush crept up her neck and heated her cheeks. “Emma’s father isn’t in the picture.”

Whoa. What kind of an asshole wouldn’t be in the picture for his very own kid?
Jake felt a rush of pity for the toddler asleep on the sofa—and contempt for the man who had run out on his responsibility. He noticed that Carly’s voice sounded stiff, even a little bit breathless, and he guessed she wasn’t nearly as cool with the father deserting them as she wanted everyone else to think she was.

“Sorry. Didn’t mean to stick my nose where it didn’t belong,” he began but she brushed right past him and Bronco as if he hadn’t spoken, heading straight to the front door.

“I’ll tell Denny you stopped by.”

Man, this woman couldn’t get rid of him fast enough.

She looked even
more
delicious than he remembered from that night in Houston. She had a fantastic willowy body, long and lean. And that fresh, sexy girl-next-door kind of beauty—a stunning combination of naturalness and sensuality. And her lips…they were probably the most pouty, shapely, inviting-looking lips he’d ever seen. And he’d seen quite a few. Fact was, he still remembered just how sweet they tasted…how sweet
she
tasted….

What really got him, though, wasn’t the knockout beauty of her heart-shaped face, or her full soft lips, or even the remembered peal of breathless, slightly tipsy laughter as they got to know each other between the sheets in Houston.

It was her eyes. Those incredible dreamy green eyes, soft and rich as a summer forest. They seemed to have a way of drawing a man in. Deeply in.

When they weren’t deliberately trying to block him out.

Which was what they were doing right now.

Following her to the door, Bronco at his heels, Jake struggled to rein in his attraction to her—the same heady jolt of instant attraction that had pulled him to her across the lobby of that hotel—but she sure didn’t make it easy.

She was damned sexy in that scoop-necked ivory sweater, with her mass of thick red curls, simple faded jeans, and sneakers. Fact was, she looked like a million bucks. Like some slender supermodel hanging out in Lonesome Way, lying low—on vacation, Jake thought. Tall and graceful—with very distracting curves filling out her sweater and jeans in exactly the right places.

This
Carly McKinnon was so much more down-to-earth than the stunning, polished businesswoman he’d invited into his hotel room in Houston. Back then she’d been dressed in very high heels, a gold silk blouse, and a black business suit.

He remembered her kicking off those heels and sauntering toward him with a sexy little smile. He remembered her rising up on tiptoe and kissing him within two minutes of stepping into his hotel room.

And after he’d stripped off her elegant blouse and skirt, tossed aside her wispy black bra and tiny lace thong, he’d discovered a whole other side to her.

A side that was effortlessly sexy, a little bit wild, and as hot as any spark from a campfire.

The truth was, he’d actually thought about her again the next day…and the next. And maybe even the day after that.

Which was unusual for him.

He’d even been tempted to call her. But he’d told himself that would be a bad idea.

Jake had a sixth sense about women. And from what he’d seen of Carly McKinnon in bed and out, he’d sensed that beneath the sexiness and the smarts and the confidence, and
despite her eagerness to fall into bed with him that night, she wasn’t the type of woman to either take or let things go lightly.

Which meant she wasn’t a good fit for a man who never lingered long in one place—or with one woman.

His instincts had warned him to leave well enough alone and walk away. And in his long career with horses, bulls, and women, Jake had learned to trust his instincts.

He’d never expected to see her again—especially not here in his hometown. But maybe he
should
have expected it, he thought. She’d told him they’d met briefly as kids, told him that she knew Martha Davies and had visited Lonesome Way a couple of times.

Over dinner that night she’d even mentioned witnessing a fistfight while she was in town—a fistfight that involved Jake sticking up for a younger kid.

Well, that wasn’t too unusual, Jake had reflected. He’d always seemed to have a zero-tolerance policy for bullies. Like Roger Hendricks, who’d always picked on the smallest boys on the playground when they were in grade school.

Jake had put an end to that quick enough. Probably because his father had always quoted old cowboy sayings to him when they were working side by side at the ranch—and one of those old sayings had stuck hard in Jake’s mind.

A cowboy should never shoot first, hit a smaller man, or take unfair advantage.

Words to live by, son,
Jake’s father had told him. And Jake did just that.

He’d searched his memory over dinner with Carly that night in Houston, and finally, when she described the fight to him, he’d vaguely remembered it—and the older boy whose butt he’d kicked.

Gil Tucker. An ass in horse’s clothing.

Gil and he had never gotten along. The guy had been a bully practically since the time he learned how to walk. He and his cousins had cornered puny Randy Taylor outside of Roy’s Diner that day. Jake didn’t remember all the details. He only knew Gil had grown up to be every bit as much of
a loser as he’d been in his teenaged years. He was now an assistant coach with the high school football team. According to Rafe and Travis, Gil got his kicks tearing into the weakest of his players.