Texas Charm, page 16
This amazing heart-wide-open child…he had to do right by her.
“I love you, too, sugarplum.” She straightened and smoothed at her apron. “You come see me anytime, you hear?”
Maisie nodded eagerly. “Can we, Uncle Bub?”
“You bet we will.”
“I really like Sweetgrass, don’t you?”
Walker and Ruby traded glances. “More all the time, Ladybug.”
Ruby nodded at him, eyes warm with compassion, and he nodded back.
With a deep breath and a steadier heart, he carried his niece back to the table full of noise and friendship and fun.
He wanted this for Maisie, but he had no idea how it could fit into the world he was obligated to continue.
Maybe life has another plan for you.
That couldn’t be true. His life was laid out years ahead, on a path he’d fought to find and intended to continue traveling. Now that he had Maisie to care for, his success was more important than ever.
So no, they couldn’t stay here long.
But maybe they could come back, now and again.
Chapter Ten
Jeanette felt odd putting on a frilly nightgown with a strange man in her house, but frilly was all she had. She covered it with a robe and emerged from her bath, way past ready for sleep after this endlessly long couple of days.
Had it only been night before last that she’d watched Walker perform? He’d been a different Walker Roundtree then, the charming, cocky, sexy singer who had women by the millions panting for the next note from his lips.
Then there was the night that followed…the hours of aching, rapturous bliss she would never forget. He’d been powerful and yet sweet, thrilling but tender…the lover of a woman’s dreams.
And he’d asked her to come along with him. He would never know how desperately she’d yearned to say yes.
She had no place in that life she’d observed, even though in private hours with her, he’d been a teasing playmate who—okay, yes, could make her drool over him, too.
Yet now she understood another layer to him, someone light-years different, a man with a painful past he didn’t share easily. A man who took his responsibilities seriously and was being torn to shreds now that they conflicted.
Most of all, he was a man who, even though clearly unsettled by and unfamiliar with what it would take to raise a little girl, was nevertheless loving and kind and fiercely protective of that child. He was caught between two worlds: the one in which he was master of all he surveyed, confident and talented and enjoying the life of a sought-after bachelor, and this new world in which he had no family but this one little girl who had an unbreakable grip on his heart.
But the social worker was right. His lifestyle wasn’t suited to raising a child, and though Maisie had the adaptability of children, she was still going to have a hard time growing accustomed to the absence of her mother. She might have been distracted for a while by the breakneck pace of events and all the people she’d met since they’d arrived, but she’d heard Maisie crying at the hospital, heard Walker’s low, soothing murmur, then his voice as he sang to her.
She wanted to guard Maisie with a fierceness that surprised her. Already that child had sent roots into Jeanette’s heart, and the trust she displayed in Jeanette filled an empty spot she’d never realized yawned so wide and deep. She knew it was foolish to get so attached when Maisie and Walker would be gone in a matter of days, but Maisie had latched onto her, and pushing her away would be cruel. Maisie needed love and support and firm ground as she sought her footing in her forever-altered world.
But when Walker took her away, as he surely must…
Jeanette wouldn’t think about that now.
She settled on tying her robe tighter at the waist and only making a cursory stop to see if they needed anything else before they all got a much-needed night’s sleep. She was decent, as long as the robe stayed closed. She had an affinity for pretty lingerie as an antidote to the plainness of her life, and though she didn’t indulge herself in much, she allowed herself that luxury. She’d told herself that in some new life she’d never been able to picture, the clothes she made for herself that were so unsuited to Sweetgrass deserved to have fine underthings beneath them. Meanwhile, her waitress garb felt less plain with those same lacy bits beneath.
But since she dated seldom, having grown up with every unmarried man in Sweetgrass, the lingerie had been only for her until…
Until Walker had stripped it off her on that unforgettable night.
That’s over now. Nothing further is going to happen between you—it can’t. He lives in the stars, and you live with your feet firmly planted on the ground.
Even in her daydream clothes, she was too plain for him. She’d seen the women who surrounded him.
Anyway, they were just friends, she reminded herself as she walked down the hall. She was only helping him through a difficult stretch, as any friend would.
Oh. She stopped in the doorway of her sewing room where a little bed had been set up for Maisie.
But tall, lanky Walker Roundtree was in it, too, his long legs and powerful shoulders taking up most of the room, contorted in a way that had to be painful. Maisie was sprawled on his shoulder, tear tracks on her cheeks.
Walker’s lashes were damp, too, and he clutched Maisie to him as they lay there, fast asleep.
Seeing them like this was sweet and sad and heart-wrenching. She wanted to cover them both with a protective cloud.
But the best she could do was to return to her bedroom and grab a quilt she’d made after the courthouse quilters refused to take no for an answer. Once a week now, she joined them in an upstairs room Scarlett and Ruby had reserved for them.
The pattern was called Grandmother’s Fan, and she’d made it from scraps of fabric from her own clothing. It was cheerful and bright, with its red quarter-circles forming the base of each fan. If she couldn’t give these two weary souls a physical hug, this quilt would serve that purpose. She returned to the room and spread it over them with a light touch so as not to wake them.
But when she finished smoothing it out, she carefully tucked it over their shoulders, Maisie’s tiny ones and Walker’s strong broad ones.
Maisie slept on, but Walker’s green eyes opened, soft and warm and vulnerable, in them a glimpse of a man she found herself wanting to know better. He smiled, and she smiled back.
Before she thought, she blew him a kiss, then gasped as she realized what she’d done.
She turned quickly and escaped, even as she heard his voice say her name.
“Nettie?” came the urgent whisper. “Nettie? Please wake up.” A little louder.
Jeanette stirred in the darkness and saw Maisie standing by her bed. “What is it, sweetie?”
“I had to go to the bathroom and—” Tears rose and spilled over her lashes. “I—my gown is wet. I couldn’t make it fast enough.” Shame darkened her voice.
“Oh, honey, it’s okay.” Jeanette rose. “Is Walker still asleep?”
Her lower lip trembled. “He’s so heavy, and it took too long to get out from under the covers. I’m sorry. Please don’t be mad.”
“Never.” Jeanette drew her close, heedless of her damp gown. “Accidents happen. Here, let me get you something else to sleep in, then we’ll go clean you up. Can you be really quiet, so we don’t wake up Walker?”
Maisie nodded. “I don’t want him to know. You won’t tell him?”
“He wouldn’t be ashamed of you, honey, don’t you know that? Everybody’s had something like that happen before. You know he loves you like crazy, don’t you?”
Maisie nodded, her cheeks blotched from crying. “But I don’t want to be any trouble. Sometimes Mama said I was and—” Abruptly she stopped, her gaze stricken.
Oh, honey… “You are not too much trouble, not for your uncle and not for me, either. Sometimes mommies are just having a bad day. She didn’t mean it.” Jeanette couldn’t know that, but guilt and grief too often went hand in hand. “Your mama thought you were amazing. I do, too.”
“Not always. Sometimes she wished she didn’t have me.” Her little shoulders rounded. “But I love my mama. I wish I could tell her. If I be really good, will she come back?”
How many ways could your heart break? Jeanette crouched before Maisie, hands on her shoulders. “Your mama can’t come back, Maisie, though I know she wishes she could. That’s why she’ll be the best guardian angel for you, because she loves you and she wants you to be happy. She doesn’t expect you to be perfect, and neither does your Uncle Bub.”
“He won’t leave me?”
Jeanette’s throat felt too thick to speak. She cleared it and tried again. Of course she couldn’t promise Maisie wouldn’t lose Walker, too, but she’d pray night and day for his safety and health, right along with Maisie’s. “He wants to be with you more than anything. Don’t you worry about this right now, Maisie. You’re not ever going to be alone again. Uncle Bub loves you, and I love you, and there’s Ruby and Scarlett and Ian and Jackson and Veronica and so many other people here who are on your side, no matter what. You’re safe now, and we’re all going to keep you that way.” Such a vow might be a tall order, but anyone who knew Jeanette understood that she was fierce and strong. This little girl had a hold on her heart that wouldn’t break, however far away Walker might take her. “I’ll always be here for you, don’t ever doubt that. Even when you and Walker leave Sweetgrass—” the very words made her heart clutch—“I’ll give you my phone number and you call me anytime. I mean that.”
“I don’t want to leave.” Maisie clutched at her. “I want to stay here. Can’t we stay here?”
Oh, lordy. Jeanette had no idea what the future held or what Walker would work out for Maisie. Ruthlessly she focused on continuing to sponge the little girl she wanted to hug close. “You’re here now, and we’re going to enjoy every day, okay?” Desperate for distraction from this discussion she felt so unequal to having, she switched topics. “I was thinking that maybe we could start on your lookalike doll tomorrow. Would you like that?”
Maisie’s eyes widened. “Could we start her now?”
Jeanette grinned and tapped her nose. “You, little munchkin, need more sleep and I do, too.”
“Uncle Bub is hogging my bed.”
And likely would feel it tomorrow, Jeanette suspected, recalling him twisted like a pretzel to fold his long frame into the small space. “Would you like to sleep with me?” she asked, finished with Maisie’s sponge bath and sliding one of her softest t-shirts over Maisie’s head.
Maisie nodded eagerly. “Daisy Bear, too?”
“Of course.”
“But—” Maisie bit her lip.
“What is it?”
“I don’t have any clean panties.”
Jeanette grinned. “Let me sneak into your room and get some from the clothes Abby and Beth loaned you.” There had been only one nightgown, but they’d brought a few sets of clothes. “Wait right here, okay?” She held one finger over her lips for silence.
Maisie mimicked the gesture and nodded.
Jeanette plucked Daisy Bear off the closed lid of the toilet. “You be sure Daisy Bear is quiet, too, okay?”
Maisie nodded and pressed her finger to Daisy Bear’s mouth. “Be real quiet, Daisy,” she whispered.
Jeanette grinned and slinked down the hall. Furtively she retrieved a pair of panties, glancing at Walker as she tiptoed out.
He was so terribly gorgeous, relaxed in sleep. A little sigh emerged from her lips before she focused on the practicalities. He still had all his clothes on, and she pondered trying to remove his boots so he’d be more comfortable, but in the end she decided his need for sleep overrode such a concern. She wouldn’t gamble on waking him.
She felt sorry for him, though. He was going to be so stiff and sore in the morning, boots would be the least of his worries. She couldn’t do much for him, but giving him a chance to escape from reality for several more hours was something she could handle.
She eased from the room and returned to Maisie, holding her panties while Maisie put one foot, then the other inside. Jeanette picked up her and Daisy Bear and returned to her bedroom.
Several minutes of wiggling and making Daisy Bear comfortable later, Maisie curled into Jeanette’s arms and surrendered to sleep.
But not before murmuring, “I love you, Nettie.”
“I love you, too. Sweet dreams.” It was several more minutes before Jeanette could let go of all the questions and worries over how things would work out for this precious child, but eventually, sleep claimed her, too.
Walker stretched and groaned as every muscle in his body protested. He opened his eyes, trying to figure out where he could have slept that would be so cramped and miserable.
A sewing machine stood on the opposite wall. He rose to sitting and recognized the small bed Jeanette had made up for Maisie. He pushed away a quilt and grimaced as he took in his wrinkled clothes and the fact that he’d slept in his boots. He bent and planted his elbows on his knees, letting his head sag onto his hands as the real world pressed in.
Lesley was gone, his little sister he could never seem to fix.
And Maisie’s welfare all came down to him.
Where was she, anyway? He thought about the fans who’d terrified his niece. He rose quickly, his heart thumping with adrenaline.
In the hallway, his eyes flicked to the open door of the room he’d been supposed to sleep in, but the last thing he remembered was singing to Maisie. He passed that room, but she was not inside, and he couldn’t hear any sounds of people moving around in the front of the house. He hastened his steps, needing to be sure Maisie was safe—
At the open door to what must be Jeanette’s room, he spotted them both, small dark head nestled next to the blonde one, both of them fast asleep. Daisy Bear was clutched in Maisie’s arms, while his niece snuggled into Jeanette’s.
His heart felt a pinch. He was happy for Maisie that she’d taken to Jeanette so quickly, but what happened when he had to take her away?
His little niece had already lost her mother. Could he rip her from the attachment she’d formed to Jeanette?
But what else could he do? Jeanette lived here, and he did not. He had a tour to finish and a life to rearrange to include a little girl who deserved more than a tour bus as a home.
He had a funeral to plan, too. He scrubbed one hand over his face, feeling a thousand years old. So many decisions to make and so many ways to go wrong. He closed his eyes, then opened them again. He sure hoped Jeanette had a coffeepot somewhere. He needed to clear out the cobwebs before he began plowing his way through all the layers of complication his life had become.
As he turned to go, he glanced around the bedroom. It wasn’t large or fancy, but it was feminine and looked oddly like a Jeanette he once couldn’t have imagined. Handmade touches made it feel more like a home than anyplace he’d ever lived. Regardless of all the money at his disposal, every place he inhabited was only temporary and purchased for convenience, save maybe the ranch. Lots of luxury, yet all of it impersonal.
Jeanette’s place was small and simple…but it felt like a real home. He’d have traded every dollar he’d made for just one place like this to give him roots. How he would ever provide them for Maisie, he did not know.
Breath heaved out of him in a soul-deep sigh. As he made his way to the kitchen, he reminded himself of all that those dollars had bought him, of the work he loved—well, some of the time. He lived for the hours onstage, communing with his fans. He did a lot of personal appearances because there, too, he could connect with real people, and he liked nothing better than showing up at children’s hospitals or greeting veterans or helping with seniors.
At the end of each appearance or concert, though, the people went back to their families—and he went home alone. To what wasn’t really a home.
Okay, Roundtree, shut the hell up. Ditch the pity party. Most folks would sacrifice a limb to have what you take for granted.
But he didn’t, really. Despite all the luxury of his life, he understood that there was a missing piece: a home and the love he’d always hoped would go with it. And lately the piece was assuming the size of Alaska.
He shook off thoughts that would get him nowhere and accomplish nothing. Coffee. He would focus on that and maybe steal a few seconds to drink it outside on Jeanette’s porch, looking out onto her little shade-lined street a couple of blocks from the town square.
When he found the pot and the coffee and had it brewing, he mentally organized everything he needed to accomplish this day. He had to find his phone, which Dusty was no doubt blowing up with calls and texts, but he’d put it on silent before he’d settled in with Maisie to sing her to sleep, only he’d fallen asleep himself.
The pot finished brewing, and he gratefully poured a cup, then went to the porch and closed the door quietly behind him, settling into Jeanette’s porch swing with the fat cushions he was guessing that she had sewn herself.
Yet another touch that made a house feel like a home.
Jeanette stirred and smelled coffee. A warm weight curled into her side, and she glanced down to see Maisie’s dark locks. The night before crept into her thoughts, and she barely resisted pressing a kiss to the little girl’s hair.
But Maisie needed sleep, and though Jeanette wouldn’t mind an hour or two more, she was more concerned about everything else this day would require.
Carefully she peeled away, covering Maisie snugly, Daisy Bear cuddled to her chest. Quietly she crept into the bathroom and prepared for the day. A shower would have to wait until Maisie was awake, so Jeanette donned her favorite cutoffs and a tank top, knowing the day would be sweltering before long.
She peered into the sewing room as she passed, wondering just how stiff and sore Walker was. In the empty kitchen she gratefully poured coffee, sweetened and with a dollop of cream she blessed Ruby for providing when she stocked the refrigerator.
