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Fortune's Little Heartbreaker Page 7


  “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 e
xchange 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.”

  Chapter Seven

  Though it was only February, the outside temperature felt more like June. Thankfully there was a light breeze from the north and the covered porch shielded Oliver and Shannon from the worst of the midday sun. Shannon took a seat at one end of the swing and Oliver sat down with Ollie at the other.

  Almost immediately, the child left his father’s lap to scoot over to Shannon. He rested his head on her lap and she automatically began to stroke his soft brown hair. In seconds, his eyelids closed and he fell quickly asleep.

  “He shouldn’t be that tired.” Oliver glanced down at his son with a worried frown. “He slept in the car on the way here.”

  “Little boys expend a lot of energy.” Shannon smiled, then sobered as she remembered there was something they needed to discuss. She met his gaze. “Tell me why you came all the way out here today.”

  “To speak with your father.”

  Shannon curbed her impatience and merely lifted a brow. “About?”

  “The comments Marcos made last night got me to thinking.” Oliver shifted on the white lacquered slats. “I decided to reassure your father you would be safe and respected under my roof.”

  Shannon pressed her lips together and counted to five. “I am in charge of my own life, Oliver. Whatever goes on, or doesn’t, under your roof is our business. Not my father’s. Not my mother’s. Understand?”

  He stared at her for a long moment. “I see your point.”

  “I appreciate that your intentions came from a good place,” she acknowledged. “But this is between us.”

  She wasn’t sure exactly what all “this” encompassed, but for now it was simply the job and taking care of Ollie.

  “You went behind my back.” Shannon did her best to keep the hurt from her voice. After growing up in a family of men, she’d learned there was no quicker turnoff than to lead from emotion. “You never even mentioned you were considering speaking with my father.”

  “That’s because it was something I decided last night.”

  “There were opportunities during the evening when you could have discussed your concerns with me,” she said pointedly.

  He reluctantly nodded, then surprised them both by reaching over and taking her hand. “Apologies. I overstepped.”

  She searched his gaze and saw only sincerity.

  “Accepted.” Shannon made no move to pull her hand away as the swing moved slowly.

  “What happened in Lubbock?”

  She blinked and jerked her fingers free. “I already told you.”

  “You said your previous employer got ‘handsy.’ That’s not much of an explanation.”

  Should she tell him? If so, how much should she say? Even though it wasn’t all that long ago, in Shannon’s mind it was ancient history. She’d moved on. Still, it wasn’t as if she had anything to hide, and if she didn’t spill, she wouldn’t put it past Oliver to do some investigating on his own.

  “My last job was with a marketing firm in Lubbock. My direct supervisor, Jerry, was the CEO’s nephew.” Though Shannon did her best to keep her voice matter-of-fact, it shook slightly. She continued to stroke Ollie’s hair and found the motion relaxed her. “He wasn’t much older than me, but he was married with two kids.”

  Oliver made an encouraging sound.

  Shannon felt the urge to get up and pace, but couldn’t because of Ollie. The twist in her belly told her she wasn’t completely over what had happened. Not fully, anyway.

  “Jerry seemed nice at first, though there was something about him that put me on alert. Too many compliments of a personal nature, and whenever he was at my desk, he stood too close. I told myself I was just overreacting. At my previous job I’d worked with all women, so overreacting seemed plausible.”

  Oliver didn’t speak, simply inclined his head in a gesture that seemed to indicate she should keep talking.

  “Then he started touching me.”

  Oliver’s head jerked up and a muscle in his jaw jumped. “Touching you?”

  “It started out innocent enough—a hand on my shoulder while he leaned over to look at my computer screen, brushing back a strand of hair from my face.” Shannon gazed down at Ollie’s head resting in her lap. She swallowed past the dryness in her throat. “I told him the touching made me uncomfortable. But no matter what I said, he turned it around and made me wonder if I was being too sensitive. You know, making something out of nothing.”

  “He made you doubt your instincts.”

  “Yes. He didn’t listen to my concerns, didn’t acknowledge they were valid. I let the issue drop. That wa
s my first mistake.”

  “What happened?” Oliver asked in a low, tight voice.

  “One night, shortly before Thanksgiving, we were working late. I made a point to never be alone with him. It started out as four of us working on a campaign. The other two ended up leaving. I was almost finished so I stayed behind. That was my second mistake.”

  Without her quite realizing how it had happened, her hand was once again in Oliver’s. The warmth of his strong fingers wrapping around hers gave Shannon the strength to continue.

  “He—he pulled me to him, kissed me, told me his wife and kids were out of town and we’d have his house to ourselves. No one would ever know.” Shame bubbled up inside Shannon. “He wouldn’t let go of me. Finally I was able to jerk away. My shirt tore. I started crying.”

  “Bastard,” she thought she heard Oliver mutter.

  “I reminded him he was a married man. He laughed and called me a tease. But when I said I was going to his boss, he turned the tables again and accused me of coming on to him. Said he was shocked and appalled by my behavior. Then he asked who did I think his uncle would believe? Him, an upstanding family man and deacon of his church? Or me? A single woman who’d never complained about his behavior until now?” Shannon lifted her gaze to meet Oliver’s. “I turned in my resignation without even giving notice. I returned to Horseback Hollow and put it all behind me.”

  Oliver’s fingers tightened around hers.

  She waited for him to say that she should have stood up for herself, should have at least told his uncle the story, but to her relief he didn’t.

  “I loved my job,” she added. “It was hard to walk away. But I didn’t see that I had any choice.”

  “You made the best decision for you.”

  “I did.” Shannon felt herself relax and was sorry when Oliver released her hand. “Though it still makes me angry you went behind my back, it’s probably a good thing you spoke with my father. He doesn’t have a very high opinion of male employers right now.”

  “I meant what I said,” Oliver told her. “You’re perfectly safe with me.”