FATHER IN TRAINING Read online

"You don't have to help."

  "That's why we're here, Sandy. Kyle put the word out. He's been there for us, so we're happy to help one of his friends."

  Elizabeth didn't hesitate before saying the word friend but even so, Sandy wondered what Kyle had said about her. Or what he hadn't.

  She looked at the boxes, then at the empty cupboards. How on earth was she going to get this house in some kind of order? "Feel free to open whatever box strikes your fancy," she said. "I've pretty much decided where everything should go."

  "Sounds good to me." Elizabeth reached for the one closest to her and drew open the flaps. "Canned goods," she said, peering inside.

  "The pantry cupboard is right there." Sandy pointed to the closed door on the other side of the double oven.

  Elizabeth carried the box over to the counter closest to the pantry and started unpacking. "Kyle said you just moved to town. What made you decide on Glenwood, if you don't mind my asking?"

  "My husband died a couple of years ago. After everything settled down, I decided I didn't want to raise my kids in Los Angeles. I'd lived in Glenwood for a few years when I was a teenager, so when a job teaching at the junior college opened up, I moved us here." She wrinkled her nose. "So far, it's not a popular decision with the family."

  Elizabeth smiled. "It will get better. I moved here from L.A., too, although I wasn't a widow. So your husband passed away two years ago?"

  "Yes."

  "And you've recovered?"

  Sandy paused. Recovered wasn't the word she would have chosen. That implied an emotional bereavement. She missed Thomas, but she hadn't mourned him as the lost love of her life. "I'm making a fresh start, if that's what you mean."

  "It's good enough."

  "How long have you lived here?" Sandy asked.

  "Three years." Elizabeth placed the last can in the pantry and turned the empty box over. While she worked the bottom free so the box could lay flat, she stared off into the distance. Her brown eyes took on a dreamy expression. "I met Travis the second day I was here. He pulled me over for speeding."

  Sandy stared at her. "That sounds really romantic."

  "Oh, it was." She laughed. "I know it doesn't sound like much, but I had appendicitis, and he rushed me to the hospital. While I was there, he took care of Mandy, and when I was released, he insisted I stay with him while I recuperated. I didn't know a soul in town, I had a new job I wasn't going to be able to start and he was just there. My own personal knight in shining armor." She picked up another box and looked inside. "Glasses," she said, rustling the tissue they'd been wrapped in.

  "Cupboard next to the sink," Sandy said, pointing.

  Elizabeth carried the box around the piles in the center of the floor and set it down. "Jordan says the reason Jessica is the first girl born to the Haynes family in four generations is that we're the first couple to be in love and faithful to each other." She pulled out the first glass and set it on the shelf. "I think it's because my mother is one of four girls and her mother is one of six girls. All the relatives on her side of the family only ever have girls. Maybe our body chemistry only likes girl sperm. Of course, I would never tell Jordan that and ruin his theory."

  Sandy cleared her throat. She emptied the box of plates and bowls and moved on to one filled with plastic food-storage containers. "How is Jordan? I mean, I knew him in high school. I'm curious as to how he—"

  "Turned out?" Elizabeth grinned. She had a pretty, heart-shaped face with big eyes and a ready smile. "He's the quiet one of the bunch. He still keeps to himself. Travis calls him the black sheep because he became a fire fighter instead of a sheriff. He's still single," she added hopefully.

  "No, thanks. Jordan and I were destined to be friends. We tried dating for a while, but it never worked out."

  Elizabeth crossed the room. When she was standing next to Sandy, she spoke in a quiet voice. "What were they really like in high school? Were they as wild as everyone says?"

  Sandy remembered her few dates with Jordan. He never tried to kiss her, so she couldn't speak to that reputation. She thought about the afternoons she'd spent in the Haynes family's kitchen, helping Kyle with his homework, listening to Craig, the oldest, brag about his exploits with the college girls or just talking with Jordan. "I think they were lonely. Their father was never here, their mother was angry all the time. I don't want to blame her, she lived in a difficult situation, but I think she could have done better for the boys. She should have taken them away, or not left so abruptly." She shook her head. "I shouldn't be second-guessing the poor woman. I can't imagine what it must have been like living with their father."

  "Have they changed?" Elizabeth asked.

  "No. They're still good-looking charmers with the ability to make a woman weak in the knees."

  "Oh?" Elizabeth raised her eyebrows. "Is it all the Haynes men who make you react like that or is it just Kyle?"

  "Just—" Sandy clamped her mouth shut. "I see Travis has been teaching you how to grill prisoners."

  Elizabeth laughed. "Your secret is safe with me." She leaned closer. "Travis has this trick he does with his cowboy hat. It's silly, really. He takes it off and tosses it across the room. It always lands exactly where he wants it to." She rolled her eyes. "Drives me crazy. All he has to do is toss that damn hat and I'm putty in his hands. The worst part is he knows it and uses it against me. I can't stay mad at the man for more than two minutes at a time."

  Elizabeth walked back over to the box on the counter and continued putting away glasses. Sandy bent over and thrust a handful of plastic covers onto a bottom shelf. She would organize them later. But instead of thinking about tidy stacks of food containers, she remembered how Travis had placed his hand on the small of Elizabeth's back as he'd escorted her into the house. She could see the look on his face as he'd stared down at his sleeping daughter. Thomas had never been one to bother with polite gestures and he'd never sat still long enough to watch the children sleep. If he wanted to play with them and they were napping, he just woke them up.

  "Travis says Kyle was hurt the worst by his mother leaving," Elizabeth said.

  Sandy flattened the empty box and reached for another. "He was. I'd forgotten about that, but I do remember when it happened. It was summer, right after Kyle turned fifteen. Jordan called and asked me to come over. All four boys were sitting there, around the kitchen table." She frowned at the memory. "They looked lost. Even Craig who was already on his own. I cooked dinner, I don't remember what, then sat up with Jordan and Kyle. Travis left to do something." Sandy remembered a pretty redhead who'd come by to offer comfort, but she didn't think Elizabeth would want to hear about that.

  "I'm sure he was with a woman," Elizabeth said evenly. "Don't look so surprised that I guessed. Travis has been very honest with me about his past. I know why his first marriage failed, and the names of all the girlfriends he can remember. He spent a lot of time believing he didn't have what it takes to be a decent husband or father. I don't mind about what happened before he met me. As long as he doesn't try what his father did."

  "Yeah, that was pretty awful." At least Thomas had been faithful to her. It hadn't been enough, but she consoled herself that things between them could have been worse. She fingered her ring.

  "Kyle believes—" Elizabeth stopped and stared at her. Her brown eyes widened. "Oh, no. I'm so sorry. I didn't realize. When Kyle asked me over to help you and wanted us to meet, I sort of assumed … I'm sorry."

  "What?" Sandy asked, baffled.

  Elizabeth pointed to the ring Sandy still wore. "You must have loved your husband very much. I shouldn't be going on about Kyle when you're still in mourning. I'm sorry."

  "Please don't apologize. I'm not still in mourning. I do wear the ring to remind me of Thomas, but not for the reasons you might think." She used this symbol of their marriage as a talisman against making the same mistake twice. She didn't want to get involved with someone who refused to grow up. Someone who wouldn't take his responsibilities seriously, and w
ho would rather have a good time than do what was right.

  "He must have been a special man," Elizabeth said.

  Sandy was saved from answering when Kyle came in the room. He was carrying another casserole dish. He set it on the counter. "Nichole and Mandy have become fast friends," he said. "The TV and VCR are working great. Travis is assembling Blake's bunk beds and Lindsay is unpacking her clothes. The kid has a lot of them, huh?"

  Sandy blinked. She didn't know which question to address first. "What's that?" she asked instead, pointing to the foil-covered dish.

  Elizabeth started to chuckle. She put her hand over her mouth to muffle the sound, but even so, Kyle glared at her. "It's a casserole," he said, then turned to Elizabeth. "What's so funny? I'm just being neighborly."

  Sandy wondered how long those words would come back to haunt her. "It's very nice, Kyle," she said.

  "It's a yam casserole," he told her.

  "Yams?"

  "Don't you like them?"

  "Sure, it's just… Thanks, really."

  Elizabeth burst out laughing. "I knew it. Oh, Kyle, come over one afternoon and I'll teach you to make something else."

  He frowned at his sister-in-law. Sandy didn't know what was going on, but it was pretty obvious his male pride had been bruised. "I'm happy with the yams, Elizabeth. Everyone else seems to like them."

  "They're delicious, but maybe you could try branching out. Maybe a different vegetable, or something with meat."

  "I'll go help Travis," he said, addressing no one in particular. He stalked out of the room.

  Elizabeth continued to laugh, then finally quieted and wiped her eyes. "I shouldn't be so hard on him."

  "What's the problem? Is the casserole awful?"

  "No, it's wonderful. You're going to love it. It's just that it's all he knows how to make. It doesn't matter if it's a barbecue, the holidays or something like this. If he's expected to bring food, Kyle shows up with his yam casserole." She leaned over and lifted the foil, then plucked out one of the miniature marshmallows and stuck it into her mouth.

  Elizabeth eyed her speculatively. "You should be honored. Now that I think about it, Kyle has only made his yams for family. He must think you're very special."

  Sandy felt a blush climbing up her cheeks. She turned back to the box she'd been unpacking and started working. She didn't want to think about that. She didn't want to know why Kyle was being so nice to her. She was afraid if she allowed herself to hope, she would do something foolish, like maybe start to care. And she couldn't. Not about him. She knew exactly what she wanted in a man. This time she wasn't going to make a mistake. Kyle Haynes couldn't be more wrong for her.

  * * *

  Chapter 6

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  Kyle stood on Sandy's porch and shifted his weight from one foot to the other. He stared at the door.

  Leave, he told himself. She didn't want him around, and he wasn't the sort of guy who showed up where he wasn't welcome. She'd made her feelings clear. Friends. Neighbors. Nothing more. So why was he standing here about to make a fool of himself? Why couldn't he resist her?

  Maybe it went back to high school. Maybe deep inside him, some fourteen-year-old kid wanted his second chance. The years they'd been apart had done nothing to change his attraction to her. He only had to think about her, to see her smile, or watch her touch one of her kids, and he started wishing he was the kind of man who believed in love, marriage and forever. But he didn't. He believed that people he cared about left him. Sooner or later, whether they'd intended to or not, they disappeared.

  So he left first. Because it was easier and safer. So what the hell was he doing standing on Sandy's porch? She wasn't the short-term affair type. She was a responsible woman, a widow with three kids. They had nothing in common. He should be grateful she was pushing him away. But he wasn't. He couldn't stop thinking about her, wanting her, wanting to be with her. He would either have to get over it, or get used to making a fool of himself.

  He knocked on the door, then stepped back a couple of steps. He heard conversation inside, then Sandy called, "Fine, I'll get it." Seconds later, the door jerked open and she barked, "Yes? What do you want?" Then her gaze focused on him.

  "Hi." He gave her his best smile, the one all the Haynes brothers had mastered. The one that brought women to their knees and made dogs roll over to have their bellies scratched. Sandy blinked. A flush stole up from the collar of her faded green cotton shirt. Her mouth parted slightly as if she was having trouble breathing. Her eyes widened and she self-consciously touched her hand to her cheek. Of course, that was his interpretation of her actions. For all he knew, she was wondering what it was going to take to get rid of her annoying neighbor. He preferred his version.

  She wasn't wearing any makeup. He could see the tiny lines beside her eyes and the faint scattering of freckles across the bridge of her nose. There was a smudge of dirt on her chin. His gaze traveled lower, to the equally faded green shorts hugging her hips, to her long tanned legs and bare feet. She'd painted her toenails bright pink.

  He widened his grin. She leaned against the doorframe and sighed.

  "I've spent the last three days up to my neck in boxes," she said. "Blake and Lindsay are fighting, Nichole is clinging to me, making it hard to get anything done. I haven't had time to a shower in the last forty-eight hours, there's no milk or bread in the house. This is a really bad time for me, Kyle. I have no power to resist you. So please, just be a gentleman and leave me to fall apart in private."

  He wanted to believe she meant what she said, that he really got her to. But he wasn't that lucky.

  "I want to take the kids to an early movie and dinner," he said. "We'll pick up milk and bread on the way back and be home by eight. Say yes and I'll get them out of your way."

  She stared at him as if he were speaking in a foreign language. "What?"

  "I want to take your three children—" he held up the appropriate number of fingers "—to a movie. You know, at a theater. Then dinner." He mimicked eating. "Tonight. In about fifteen minutes. Can they be ready?"

  "Why are you doing this?"

  "To give you a break. You can unpack in peace, or just relax. Maybe take a long bubble bath." He folded his arms over his chest and tried not to think about his last suggestion. He was going to be in the company of children in a few minutes.

  Her gaze narrowed. "What do you want with my children?"

  "You make it sound like I want to kidnap them. Trust me." Her skeptical gaze told him trusting wasn't going to come easily to her. "You're the one who said we were friends," he reminded her. "I'm just helping you out."

  He watched as she made up her mind. Emotions chased across her face. Finally, she sighed and nodded. "You win. I could use a break. They'll be ready in fifteen minutes." She shut the door, then opened it quickly. "Thanks." The suspicion was gone from her green eyes, leaving them wide and bright. "I appreciate this."

  "My pleasure."

  A half hour later, he parked the car behind the movie theater. Nichole and Blake scrambled out from the back seat. Lindsay sat in the passenger seat. Waiting. For him to come open her door, like this was some date. He closed and locked his door, then slowly walked around the car. He didn't want to encourage her, but he didn't want their evening to get off to a bad start by letting her sit there until she was forced to get out herself. All three kids had been pleased with the thought of getting out of the house and away from the unpacking.

  He opened the passenger door. Lindsay gave him what she no doubt thought was her most grown-up smile, then stepped out.

  Nichole and Blake were in shorts and clean T-shirts, but Lindsay had put on a white cotton dress. Her hair was pulled back in a French braid and lipstick darkened her mouth. He suspected Sandy didn't know about the lipstick, because Lindsay had put it on in the car. He'd tried not to notice and wished he knew what he was going to do about her crush. He didn't want to hurt her feelings, but she was starting to make him nervous. He had to watch
what he said or did around her so she wouldn't misinterpret his words or actions. It was a pain. If only he could tell Lindsay that he liked her just fine the way she was. Like all of Sandy's children, she was a good kid. He suspected Lindsay wouldn't appreciate the comment, so he kept it to himself. Eventually, she would get the message. He hoped it wasn't too painful. He knew what it was like to be rejected by the object of his affection.

  As they walked toward the theater, he grabbed Nichole's hand and placed his free arm around Blake's neck, leaving Lindsay to trail behind him. Subtle, Haynes, he told himself. Very subtle.

  "You guys know what you want to see?" he asked as they approached the ticket window. There was a cartoon adventure movie starting in a few minutes.

  Both Nichole and Blake pointed to that movie poster. Lindsay patted her little sister's head. "They're still such children. We could dump them at the cartoon and go see that one together," she said, pointing at another poster.

  He looked at the second poster. It advertised a romantic comedy and showed a couple kissing. Kyle swallowed hard. Even if it hadn't been rated R he still would have refused. The movie wasn't really his kind, so if he had to sit through it, he would want it to be with Sandy.

  "I want to see the cartoon, too," he said, heading toward the ticket booth. "Three against one. Sorry, Lindsay."

  He let go of Blake long enough to pay for the tickets, then led them into the theater. There was a long line at the concession stand. They decided to find seats first. Once that was done, with Lindsay maneuvering to sit next to him, and him maneuvering to avoid that, he sent the girls off to buy the popcorn and sodas.

  The theater filled up with parents and their kids. Kyle hadn't been to a children's movie since the holidays, when he'd taken Craig's brood. Sitting there in the noisy theater, he suddenly realized he'd missed the high-pitched conversation and laughter. Kids seemed to enjoy everything more. He watched a little girl carefully walk down the slanted aisle carrying a full bag of popcorn. When she made it to the row her mother had pointed to, she looked up and smiled in triumph.