Falling For Fortune

“He does not,” Gabi muttered indignantly.

“Shut up, Chris,” Jude shot back good-naturedly. “We’re going to use this part of the room for dancin’, so everyone put down your drinks and grab a partner.”

“That’s my man,” Gabi said with pride. “A real take-charge guy.”

Her take-charge guy returned to the table to pull her to her feet and lead her to the area he had cleared for dancing. They weren’t the only couple. All around Shannon and Oliver, men and women were pairing up.

When Shannon saw a woman walk by with a toddler, it struck Shannon that she hadn’t seen Ollie for a while. “Where’s Ollie?”

“Mum is changing his nappy.” Oliver grasped on to the topic like a drowning man would grab a life jacket. “I couldn’t pry him away from her even if I wanted to.”

Do you want to, Oliver?

He looked at her so strangely that for a split second Shannon thought she must have spoken aloud. Until she realized his growing unease was because everyone who’d been seated at their table was now dancing.

Oliver pushed back his chair and abruptly stood. When he opened his mouth, Shannon found herself anticipating what it would feel like to be held in his strong arms.

“If you’ll excuse me.” His head inclined in a slight bow. “I must check on my son.”

Oliver turned on his heel and strode off, leaving Shannon alone and, just as when she was thirteen, without a date for the dance.

Chapter Six

By ten the next morning, Oliver had fed his son, changed his nappy for the third time and was ready to get down to business. He placed Ollie in his car seat and set off for the Triple S ranch.

He called Shannon’s father to make sure he’d be home, indicating he had something of a personal nature to discuss with him. When Shep had bluntly asked what it was, Oliver told him it was a matter best discussed in person. So here he was, on a bright and sunny Saturday morning in early February, headed over to clarify with a Texas rancher that he didn’t have designs on his daughter.

Certainly Shannon intrigued him. How could she not, with eyes the color of rich, dark cocoa and a smile that pierced his reserve as easily as an arrow through marshmallow. Was it any wonder that last night he’d been seriously tempted to ask her to dance?

Oliver wheeled the Mercedes onto the highway, remembering how very close he’d come to asking her. But that, he thought rather righteously, was the difference between a strong man and a weak one. No matter how tempted he was to see what it would feel like to hold her in his arms, Oliver hadn’t given in to temptation.

In fact, he’d walked away. Not because he couldn’t handle the temptation but because he’d seen the way her foot tapped in time to the music and the longing way she glanced at the couples dancing. By leaving the table, he’d made it easier for other men to ask her.

Yet, when he’d watched his cousin Galen stroll over and Shannon had risen to take his arm, Oliver had felt a twinge of unease. He hoped his cousin was an honorable man.

Oliver couldn’t help noticing Galen held her a little too closely when they danced. And why was he whispering in her ear? What could they be saying that was so secretive? It had to be a ploy to get even closer to her. And from what Oliver had observed, it worked.

Actually it was something Oliver might have done if she’d been in his arms. But Shannon was his employee. Not that a man couldn’t dance with his employee. But he could never hold her close.

The last thing Oliver wanted was to mess up a good working relationship before it even began. Some women could handle a casual, meaningless affair. He had the distinct impression that Shannon wasn’t like those women. In fact, she’d made it clear she wanted a business relationship only. He’d agreed. He’d given her his word. And a gentleman always kept his word.

Though right now Oliver didn’t feel much like a gentleman.

Thoughts of Shannon occupied him during the rest of the drive to the Singleton ranch. By the time Oliver turned onto the long lane leading to the house, Ollie was fast asleep. Oliver stifled a groan at the sight of the boy’s lolling head in the rearview mirror. He’d discovered if Ollie napped throughout the day, he often didn’t sleep well at night.

But Oliver couldn’t concern himself with that now. He would get through another night of little to no sleep with the thought that tomorrow night Shannon would be there to take care of Ollie. And Oliver would finally be able to get back to business.

For now, he had a different kind of business to attend to, and he wasn’t looking forward to it.

Before confirming a time, he’d asked Shep if Shannon was home. According to Shep, she’d left early that morning to attend a “farmers’ market” in Vicker’s Corners and wasn’t expected back until noon. By that time, Oliver’s business should be concluded.

The Singleton home was a two-story with white siding, black shutters and a wraparound porch. The bushes on each side of the walk leading to the front steps looked like a sturdy variety with burnished red leaves and tiny thorns.

Oliver noticed the ceiling of the porch was painted blue, like the sky. Seeing the swing made him wonder if Shannon ever sat there and shared kisses with some lucky man while a full moon shone overhead.

Oliver chuckled at the fanciful thought and shifted Ollie’s weight in his arms. Though his son was by no means fat, he was sturdy, weighing in at approximately a stone and a half. Not that easy to carry when he squirmed as he was doing now.

Having Ollie with him wasn’t ideal but Oliver had brought some of the boy’s favorite toys, so hopefully that would keep him occupied during the brief discussion with Shannon’s father.

When Oliver reached the front door, he had Ollie stand beside him while he rang the bell.

The door opened several seconds later.

“You must be Oliver.” Shep Singleton was a tall man in his late fifties with a thick thatch of gray hair and a lean, weathered face.

Dressing down for the occasion had been a smart move, Oliver decided. Though he considered this a business call, he hadn’t worn his suit. Instead he’d taken a page from Jensen’s playbook and chosen a pair of khakis and a polo.

Even with the concession, he felt overdressed compared with Shep’s jeans and flannel shirt.

Because Shep didn’t extend his hand, Oliver kept his own at his side.

“Come in.” Shep motioned to him. “Lilian has coffee brewin’ and she’s cutting some slices of her blue-ribbon banana bread.”

Oliver didn’t think he’d ever had blue-ribbon banana bread. In fact he was fairly certain he’d never had regular banana bread. He considered asking how blue ribbon differed from regular, just for his own edification, but decided it wasn’t important. Not when they had more important things to discuss.

He followed Shep into a foyer that was pleasant but unremarkable, with a staircase straight ahead and a parlor to the right. Because the older man’s strides were long, Oliver was forced to pick up Ollie to keep pace.

The kitchen was as old-fashioned as the rest of the house, with appliances the color of avocado and a chrome kitchen table with a swirly gray-green top. There was an ornamental print on the wall with teapots and kettles of all shapes and colors.

A slender woman who reminded Oliver of her daughter, with warm brown eyes and hair the color of strong tea, turned to greet him.

“It’s so good to finally meet you,” Lilian said with a warm, welcoming smile. “When Shep told me you were stopping by, I hoped you’d be bringing this little guy with you.”

Her gaze lingered on Ollie, and a soft look filled her eyes. She reached inside a clown jar and pulled out what looked like an oat biscuit. The questioning look in her eyes had Oliver nodding.

Lilian moved slowly to the child, who stood looking around the colorful kitchen with a wide, unblinking look of wonder.

“Hi, Ollie.” She crouched down with the ease of a woman used to constant movement.

The toddler stared at her.

“Do you like cookies?” Lilian held it up in front of him, and when she was certain she had his attention, she broke off a piece and held it out to him.

A shy smile hovered on Ollie’s lips. Still, after a moment, he reached out and took the piece from her hand, shoving it into his mouth.

“Ollie, what do you say to Mrs. Singleton?” Oliver prompted.

“Tank ooh,” Ollie spoke around a mouthful of cookie.

Lilian ruffled his hair in a casual gesture and stood. “He’s darling. Shannon has four younger brothers, so we’re used to boys around this house.”

“Four boys.” Oliver almost cringed. He had a difficult time managing one. “That must have kept you busy.”

“I’ll say. For years I didn’t know if I was coming or going. I longed for just a couple hours to myself. Even fifteen minutes.” She laughed and a wistful look crossed her face. “Now I’d give anything to have that time back.”

Her gaze dropped to Ollie. “Cherish every minute with your son. Time goes by so quickly.”

Shep cleared his throat. “I told Oliver you had some banana bread for us. And coffee.”

Lilian flashed a smile. “What’s conversation without coffee and banana bread?”

Without realizing how it happened, Oliver was at the table with a steaming mug of strong coffee before him and a small plate containing delicious-smelling bread still warm from the oven.

He waited for Lilian to dispense the sterling, but when none was forthcoming and he saw Shep pick up the slice and take a bite, Oliver followed suit. When in Rome...

“This blue-ribbon banana bread is excellent,” he told Lilian, making her blush.

“Last year it won a purple at the state fair.”

Oliver simply nodded and smiled. He made a mental note to ask his sister about a “purple.”

“Well, I’ll leave you boys to your business.” Lilian refilled their coffee cups before her gaze shifted to Oliver. “Being as it’s such a nice day, I thought I’d air out some blankets on the line. Would you mind if I took Ollie with me? I promise I’ll keep an eye on him.”

Oliver hesitated. “He’s wanted to stay close lately. Last night he didn’t even want my mum to hold him.”

Of course, his mother had unthinkingly swooped in, startling him. Still, Ollie had recently become cautious around people he didn’t know. Other than Shannon. He’d taken to her right off.

“Do you mind if I give it a try?”

“Not at all.” It would be easier to speak with Shep if he didn’t have to keep Ollie occupied.

“Ollie.” Lilian crouched down beside the boy, who still held the scruffy yellow tiger he’d had when Oliver had picked him up from Diane’s parents.

According to Diane’s mum, they’d given the stuffed animal to Ollie when he was born, and it was a favorite of his. She’d had tears in her eyes when she’d relayed the story, Oliver recalled.

At the time, Oliver hadn’t paid much mind to her. He’d been so angry with them for withholding information of Diane’s death. For keeping his son from him.

“Would you like to go outside with me? You can take Mr. Tiger with you, if you like,” her voice continued, low, calm and soothing.

There was something about the way Lilian spoke that reminded Oliver of Shannon. An intonation. Or a certain cadence in her speech. Not an accent, though the woman certainly sounded American. He finally concluded it was the warmth that wove through each word like a wool scarf on a foggy morning.

Whatever the reason, Ollie responded the same way to Lilian as he had to Shannon. Instantly and with no hesitation.

Lilian took his hand in hers. The two made it all the way to the door leading outside before they turned back. “Say, ‘Bye-bye, Daddy. See you soon.’”

She demonstrated a wave for the child.

“Bye-bye,” Ollie said in his high-pitched, sweet baby voice. “See you soon.”

Oliver smiled, even though he noticed Ollie didn’t call him “Daddy.” He never did. Of course his vocabulary was rather limited, consisting of only twenty-five words. Still, if Ollie could say the dog’s name, shouldn’t he be able to say “Daddy”?

Once the back door banged shut, Oliver decided to get right to the point. “I suppose you’re wondering why I’m here.”

Shep lifted his piece of bread. “I figure you’re fixin’ to tell me.”

The older man bit into the bread, then washed the piece down with a swig of coffee. He leaned back in his chair and studied Oliver intently.

For a second Oliver felt like one of those young lads in films, meeting his girl’s parents for the first time. Oliver had no personal experience in this arena. He’d been sent to a preparatory school when he was thirteen. Functions with suitable girls’ schools had been prearranged. No parents involved.

“Your daughter has agreed to be Ollie’s nanny while I’m in Horseback Hollow.”

“She mentioned something about that the other night,” Shep admitted.

Oliver felt a surprising surge of relief. “Then you don’t have a problem with her moving in.”

The mug of coffee Shep had lifted to his mouth froze in midair. He lowered it slowly until it came to rest on the table.

Unlike his daughter’s, Shep’s eyes were a piercing pale blue. Oliver felt the full force of his gaze punch into him.

“Move in. With you?”

“Not with me,” Oliver clarified, keeping his tone conversational. “Into the house.”

“Your house.”

“Technically your house,” Oliver pointed out.

“Don’t give me any double-talk, boy.” Shep’s eyes narrowed and Oliver felt as if he were in the crosshairs of his father’s foul temper once again.

Though Rhys Henry Hayes hadn’t remained married to Josephine for long, it had been long enough for them to have two sons together, and for his father to make Oliver’s life a living hell.

“Shannon will always be treated with respect when she’s under my roof.” Oliver met Shep’s gaze with a calm one of his own.

As a young boy, Oliver had vowed he’d never be intimidated by any man ever again. “That’s why I’m here. To let you know she will be my son’s nanny. My employee. Nothing more. She’s safe with me.”

Shep’s expression gave nothing away. He took a big gulp of coffee before he responded. “Shannon is twenty-five. As much as I’d like to, I can’t make her decisions. But I will speak bluntly.”

“Please do,” Oliver said quietly.

“After what happened in Lubbock, after that incident, I don’t feel comfortable with her being there with only a baby in diapers as a chaperone.”

Oliver cocked his head. “What incident in Lubbock?”

“Oliver.”

Shannon paused in the doorway, taking in the cozy scene with her father and Oliver at the table. She let her gaze sweep over the half-eaten pieces of banana bread and coffee mugs in need of refills.

“Your father was about to tell me about some incident in Lubbock,” Oliver told her.

* * *

Despite telling herself not to react, Shannon felt her spine grow rigid, vertebra by vertebra. She shot her father a fulminating glance that, as usual, he ignored.

“Correct me if I’m wrong, but I believe that’s my story to tell. Or not.” Forcing a smile, Shannon shifted her attention back to Oliver. “It’s not all that interesting. I had a boss who got a little handsy. It’s over and done. I’ve moved on.”

The back door clattered and seconds later, her mother strode into the room, Ollie chattering happily at her side. “Shannon, honey. When did you get home?”

“Just walked through the door,” Shannon answered absently, her mind back in Lubbock. She didn’t like thinking of that time. It was in the past and she meant what she’d said to Oliver—she’d moved on. “Do you have any more banana bread?”

“It’ll spoil your appetite for lunch,” her father warned.

Some things never change, Shannon thought ruefully. But instead of being irritated, she found the knowledge strangely reassuring.

“You’re eating it,” she pointed out. “Won’t it spoil your lunch?”

“Nope.” Shep grinned and popped the last bite into his mouth.

Shannon rolled her eyes. “Oh, honestly.”

Oliver’s gaze traveled between her and her father, as if he found their simple exchange fascinating.

Out of the corner of her eye, Shannon saw Ollie run across the room to Oliver. He swung the child onto his lap with a welcoming smile.

Shannon’s heart swelled. How could she have ever thought this man didn’t care about his son?

“I hope the bread didn’t spoil your appetite, Oliver. I’d love to have you join us for lunch.” Lilian wrapped the rest of the loaf in plastic wrap. “We’re having quiche.”

Shep grimaced. “Aw, Lil, why not burgers?”

“Too much red meat isn’t good for you.” Lilian’s argument was an old one, repeated daily. She shifted to Oliver. “We’re also having a nice salad of dark greens with a balsamic vinaigrette I make myself.”

“What happened to the good ole days of iceberg and Thousand Island?” Shep groused.

Lilian ignored the comment to focus on their guest. “If you don’t think Ollie would like quiche, I can rustle him up some mac and cheese.”

Shannon expected Oliver to make some excuse to leave. Once again he surprised her.

“Thank you, Mrs. Singleton.” He gestured to the now-empty plate before him. “If your quiche is as good as your blue-ribbon banana bread, I’m in for a treat.”

“Splendid. And please, call me Lilian.” Her mother smiled. “If you and Shep have concluded your conversation, why don’t you take Shannon and Ollie out to the porch and check out the swing? It’s a beautiful day and it’ll give me a chance to clear the table and get ready for lunch. Shouldn’t be more than a half hour or so.”

Oliver rose and smiled at Shannon. “I don’t know that I’ve ever sat with a pretty woman on a porch swing before.”

Shep shoved back his chair. “I’ll join you.”

“Honey.” Lilian covered the sharp tone with a laugh. “You’re not going anywhere. You’re staying right here and helping me.”

“I can help you, Mother.”

“No, no. Your father will help.” Lilian turned to her husband and looped her arm through his. “Shep, sweetie, I think I may have a bottle of Thousand Island in the pantry after all. Why don’t you look for it while Shannon and Oliver head outside?”

Shannon thought about telling her mother she knew exactly where to find the salad dressing, but kept her mouth shut. Her mother had it in her head that she and Oliver were going to have some time alone on the swing, and there was no getting around that.

Besides, Shannon was curious about what Oliver and her father had been discussing when she arrived. For that matter, she wanted to know exactly what had brought Oliver to the Singleton ranch this morning in the first place.

At this moment, she hadn’t a clue. Oliver was a difficult man to figure out. Like last night at the dinner party. They’d been having a perfectly lovely conversation when he’d ditched her. Once he’d left the table, she hadn’t seen him again all evening.

She’d enjoyed a couple of dances with his cousin, then headed out. Now she arrived home to find him shooting the breeze with her dad.

“Oliver.” She looped her arm through his and shot him the same sugary-sweet smile her mother had offered her father only seconds earlier. “Let’s swing and you can tell me what brought you all the way out here this morning.”

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