The Daddy Dance (15 page)

But he was going to enjoy himself while he could. He was going to follow through on the unspoken offer that Kat had made when she invited him in for a drink. He was going to enjoy whatever time they had together—a week, two weeks, whatever.

He just had to make sure things didn’t get messy. He just had to make sure that neither of them expected more than the other was offering. He just had to make sure that there were no strings attached.

Picking out wedding invitations.
Brandon didn’t know what the hell he was talking about. Kat wasn’t some flighty girl, living her entire life with the single goal of getting a wedding band on her finger. She’d be just as happy as Rye was to enjoy whatever they had, for however long they had it. And when it came time to put her on the Yankee Clipper and send her back north, that was exactly what he would do.

After a few minutes, Rye realized that he must look like an idiot, standing in a parking lot, holding a cell phone to his ear, not saying a word. As he slid his phone back into his pocket, he realized that he felt like an idiot, too. He could bluster and boast all he wanted, but there was a truth he had to admit—at least to himself.

He had fallen for Kat Morehouse. Fallen hard. And no amount of saying otherwise would change the shape of the hole she was going to leave in his heart when she headed back to New York City.

Chapter Seven

K
at watched proudly as Niffer ate the last bite of broccoli on her plate. “Thank you for dinner, Gram,” the little girl said. “It was almost as good as dinner last night.”

Well, so much for perfect manners,
Kat thought. At least Susan was smiling at Niffer indulgently. “And what did you girls do for dinner last night?”

Niffer answered before Kat could. “Mr. Harmon took us out for tacos!”

“Oh, really?” Susan arched a smile toward Kat before darting a look at Mike. Kat’s father made a show of chewing his meat loaf.

“We just grabbed something quick, Mama. Sort of a celebration for getting the painting done at the studio.” Kat heard the way her voice rose in pitch, even though she tried to sound casual. There was just a shadow of a hint of a possibility of a chance that Susan would accept the fact that Rye had treated them to a casual Mexican dinner for no reason whatsoever.

The questions would never stop coming, though, if Kat gave any hint of the midday break she had taken Wednesday afternoon….

It had all started innocently enough. Rye had said that she should leave the office for the rest of the day, that the paint fumes would get too strong. He had driven her home, confirming that Niffer was well-occupied with her after-school program. And then, he had ushered Kat into her bedroom, barely taking time to close the door behind him. They had both laughed as they produced identical silver-wrapped packets from behind the counter at Doherty’s.

No. Susan didn’t need to know anything at all about that. If Kat had had
her
way, her mother wouldn’t have known anything about the taco dinner the night before, either.

Completely innocent, Niffer wiped her mouth with her napkin before folding the cloth and putting it beside her plate. “May I be excused, Gram?”

Susan looked astonished by the polite request, but she nodded at the little girl. “Certainly, Jen—um, Niffer. Thank you for asking so nicely.”

Kat helped her niece wriggle down from the dining room chair. When she turned back to the table, Susan was shaking her head in amazement. “You have worked wonders with her, sweetheart.”

Kat lifted her chin and smiled. “I really think she wanted some structure in her life. You always said that you and Daddy set your rules so that Rachel and I would know how much you love us.”

Mike looked up from his armchair at the head of the table. “I didn’t think you listened to a word your mother and I said while you were growing up.”

“Daddy!” Kat laughed. “Of course I did. I can recite all your lessons by heart.” She closed her eyes and raised up a finger, as if she were recounting the Ten Commandments. “A fool and his money are soon parted.” She added a second finger. “If you don’t have anything nice to say, don’t say anything at all.” One more finger. “Never assume malice, when stupidity is an explanation.”

Susan laughed. “She has you there, love. I think the only thing she learned from me is ‘stop making that face, or it might freeze that way.’”

Kat shook her head. “No, Mama. You taught us a lot more than that.” Before she could elaborate, though, the phone rang.

Susan bustled into the kitchen, only to return with the handset. “What? I can’t hear you! There’s too much noise in the background!” Susan took the phone away from her ear and squinted at the buttons. She punched the one for volume five times in rapid succession. “Who is this?” she shouted back into the phone.

“Mom!” Now the sound was loud enough that Kat could make out her sister’s voice.

“Rachel?” Susan looked as if she might drop the phone. Kat heard a skitter of footsteps, and Niffer was back in the room, hugging her grandmother and reaching for the handset as if it were a lifeline. Susan pulled back a little before she shouted, “Where are you?”

“I’m in D.C., Mom! Staying with friends! We’re having a party!”

Mike muttered at the far end of the table, “Tell me something I don’t know.”

Niffer started whining, “Mommy! Let me talk to Mommy!”

Susan shushed her granddaughter. “Rachel, when are you coming home?”

“That’s why I called, Mom!”

Niffer was still whimpering, trying to get her little hands on the phone. “Hush,” Kat said. “Come here, Niffer. You can sit on my lap, and we’ll talk to Mommy after Gram is done.” She measured out the moment when the little girl thought about refusing, but then Niffer let herself be held.

Rachel was still shouting over the line. “I’m catching a ride tomorrow! I’ll be there by noon!”

“Wonderful, dear,” Susan said. “Niffer has a T-ball game tomorrow afternoon. You can see her play.”

“Who?”

“Niffer. Jenny.”

There was a commotion on the other end of the line, some sort of shouting match that resolved into a cluster of voices shouting “Ten! Nine! Eight!”

Rachel added her own treble above the countdown. “Gotta go, Mom! See you tomorrow!”

The silence in the room echoed after the connection was broken. Susan stared at the handset as if it might come back to life. Mike scowled, his thoughts about his wayward daughter patently clear on his face. Kat shook her head. Rachel hadn’t mentioned her at all, hadn’t even asked about their father’s health.

Niffer, though, bounced off Kat’s lap and ran across the room to hug Susan. “Mommy’s coming home! I get to see Mommy tomorrow!”

Susan smoothed her granddaughter’s hair. “Yes, dear,” she said automatically.

Kat sat back in her chair. Looking at her parents’ faces, she realized that Susan and Mike thought the same thing she did. Rachel was about as likely to show up at Niffer’s T-ball game as she was to win a Nobel Prize. The interstate to D.C. might as well have been the Trans-Continental Railroad. And there was no real way to cushion the blow for an excited little girl.

Kat had to do something, though. “Niffer, honey. Go pick up your toys in the other room. Gram is going to drive us home in five minutes.”

When Niffer looked up, a spark of her old rebellion glinted deep in her coal-black eyes. “When Mommy’s back, Gram won’t have to drive us everywhere. Mommy’s smart enough to drive a car.”

“Niffer!” Susan warned.

Kat, though, waved off the confrontation. “Clean up your toys, Niffer. Now.”

The little girl dragged her feet as she harrumphed across the room.

Mike glared after her. “I thought that child was through with all her back-talking.”

Kat shrugged. “She’s just excited. And I don’t have the heart to get angry with her, because I know she’s going to end up disappointed tomorrow.”

“You don’t
know
that,” Susan tsked.

Kat sighed. “I hope you’re right, Mama.”

No one said another word on the topic. But Kat couldn’t help but realize her father didn’t correct her. He was as mistrustful of Rachel as she was. It was a long ride home, listening to Niffer ramble on about all the presents she hoped her mother would bring.

Rye glanced in the mirror of the hotel lobby, making sure that his tie was straight before he went into the conference room. He could already hear the murmur of conversation inside, the movers and shakers of the Richmond business world conducting their most important deals at the monthly Chamber of Commerce dinner. He was willing to bet that the salads had already been served, that the bone-dry breasts of chicken were on their way.

He’d rather be in Eden Falls. He’d rather be sitting in Susan and Mike Morehouse’s dining room, watching Niffer wrinkle up her nose at the broccoli that she had already denounced when he took her out for tacos the night before. He’d made Niffer promise to eat every last bite, saying that her grandmother would be disappointed if she left any vegetables on her plate.

Kat's smile had been blinding. Or maybe he'd just been blinded by memories of Wednesday afternoon. Everything had seemed so simple when he had taken her home from the studio, using the paint fumes as an excuse for playing hooky. So easy. So
right
. Even now, he could hear her laughing as she told him some story about Niffer. He could hardly believe that he had ever thought of Kat as icy. As cold. As utterly, completely controlled in everything she did. He couldn’t wait to see her lose that firm control again. As soon as he could get back down to Eden Falls.

“Hey, Rye!”

“Josh!” Rye extended his hand toward his fraternity brother. “I wasn’t expecting to see you here.”

“This is where the big deals get done, right?” Josh Barton flashed his old winning smile. “I heard a rumor you had set up shop here in Richmond.”

“I figured it was finally time to get out of Eden Falls.”

“Past time, I’d imagine.” Josh had always been restless, even back in college. Rye supposed that was part of his charm with the ladies—the man dreamed big, and he wasn’t afraid to have company on his journey. “What sort of work are you doing these days?”

Rye felt himself relax in the face of Josh’s easy confidence. “A couple of kitchens, lately. Last winter, I did a complete restore on the old Wilson place. And just this week I finished renovating the Morehouse Dance Studio.”

“
That
must have been a pain. Is that crazy Rachel still running the place for her mother?”

“Not for a while. She took off to visit friends out west.” Rye shrugged. His explanation sounded better than,
she left town, ditching your daughter with her parents.
“Her sister came down from New York to help out. Kat.”

“She’s the one who went to that fancy ballet school?”

Rye nodded. He didn’t want to talk to Josh about Kat. In fact, now that he thought about it, it was strange that Josh hadn’t been around to help with Niffer. Take her for a weekend, at least. Especially since the guy still seemed to be pretty tied in to Eden Falls life. He’d asked about Rachel running the studio. He had to know about Mike Morehouse’s illness, about the way the community was rallying to help out the family.

“At least one of those girls turned out sane.” Josh gave Rye a knowing wink.

“What do you mean?”

“Come on! You know as well as I do—Rachel is
nuts
!”

No matter how much Rye might have agreed, the blatant criticism raised his chivalrous hackles. “She was always a little wild, yeah, but I wouldn’t call her ‘nuts.’”

Josh grinned. “Are we talking about the same woman? Played the field after she got out of high school? Spent half her time at the frat house, then tried to frame me for eighteen years of child support?”

A sliver of warning slipped into Josh’s tone. “Frame?”

Josh shook his head. “That crazy bitch sued me for paternity. She had to withdraw the case, though, after all the tests came back. I dodged a bullet with that one!”

Rye laughed, because that’s what he was supposed to do. Even as he responded on automatic pilot, though, his jaw was tightening into a stony line.

Josh shot his cuffs and nodded toward the conference room. “But enough about Eden Falls. You’re in Richmond now. Ready to meet your new business partners?”

“You go ahead,” Rye said. “I’m going to make a pit stop.”

Rye watched in dismay as Josh disappeared down the hall. His ears were ringing, as if the lobby echoed. A metallic taste coated the back of his throat.
Dodged a bullet
.

Rachel Morehouse had told Rye, in no uncertain terms, that Josh Barton was the father of her baby. Rachel had said that her baby would never have a handyman for a father; no one but a lawyer was good enough for Rachel. Rachel had said that Rye was off the hook. Rachel had said…

Rye clutched at the marble counter in front of the mirror. Closing his eyes, he could see Niffer’s jet-black hair, a perfect match for her mother’s. But he could see the line of her jaw, as well, a line echoed in a dozen of Rye’s nieces and nephews. And he could picture the girl standing at the plate in T-ball, getting ready to swing the bat left-handed. Rye looked down at his own left hand, staring at his palm as if he’d never seen it before.

For whatever twisted reason that passed as logic in Rachel’s rebellious mind, she had lied to him five years ago. Jennifer Morehouse was Rye’s daughter.

Kat made sure that her father was comfortably settled on one of the benches behind home plate, and then she nodded toward a vendor who had set up his cart on the edge of the park. “Can I get you a hot dog, Daddy?”

“No, thanks. I’m fine.”

“A Coke, then?”

“I don't need anything.”

Susan had been worried about the late-afternoon start of the game; she hadn’t wanted anyone to go hungry. As a result, she’d spent the afternoon setting out “nibbles”—cheese and crackers and fruit and cookies—three times as much food as any normal meal. Kat didn't think she’d ever be hungry again.

As much as she was inclined to fuss over her father, she had to admit that he
did
look strong. Sure, his shirt hung loose at his throat. And his tight-belted trousers rode a little high on his hips. But the fresh air had brought color to his cheeks. He’d made the walk from the house without getting winded, in his best time yet since his surgery. Kat sat down beside him, but barely a minute passed before she jumped up and looked over her shoulder.