Okay, so they wouldn’t be marrying for love. Neither of them had had much luck with messy emotions anyway. An old-style marriage of convenience struck him as the sensible way to go. Kelly would never have to worry about money for herself or her daughter again and he would never have to deal with another female barracuda.
As he walked toward the front porch of the ranch house, a porch that sagged and dipped from years of use and sloppy construction, he noted the huge pots of bright flowers she tended with such care in the evenings. They were thriving, the blossoms providing vivid splashes of color against the front of the white house.
Already anticipating their life together, he sighed with contentment. Kelly was a nurturer. Like those flowers, he and any children they ultimately might have would thrive in her care. Assuming he got over this uneasiness he felt with these pint-size enigmas, that is.
He fingered the small jewelry box in his pocket and smiled, pleased with his decision. Kelly’s fat gray-and-white cat wound between his legs, purring and shedding on his navy pants. Jordan glanced down, felt a momentary touch of annoyance, then sighed. The old tomcat was part of the package and at least he seemed delighted by Jordan’s presence.
With a rare twinge of trepidation, he knocked on the screen door and called out, “Hey, darlin’, it’s me.”
He heard the thunder of tiny feet as Dani came careering around a corner and raced down the hallway. She skidded to a halt, her blond curls bouncing.
“Hi, Jordan,” she said, swinging the screen door wide and coming out to join him. “Mommy’s in the barn. Francie’s having kittens. A lot of kittens.”
Jordan cringed. “Really?”
“Want to come see?”
He would rather eat dirt, but the sparkle of anticipation in Dani’s eyes was too powerful to resist. “Sure.”
To his astonishment, Dani tucked her hand trustingly in his and tugged him around the side of the house toward the barn. “You could have one, if you wanted,” she told him.
“I work very long hours. I’m not sure what I’d do with a kitten in Houston,” he said, trying to sound as if he regretted it when the truth was he couldn’t have been more relieved.
“Cats don’t mind if you’re not home very much. They’re very independent,” she informed him. “We hardly ever see Francie, except when she’s going to have kittens.”
Old Francie reminded him of certain types of people who only turned up when they were in trouble. He hoped Kelly wasn’t going to view his visit that way.
Dani stopped on the path in front of him, her face turned up, her brow knitted with concern. “Mommy says we have to give all of them away,” she told him.
Her eyes suddenly and, Jordan thought, rather suspiciously filled with tears.
“What if we can’t find homes for them?” she asked, sounding pathetic. “Will we have to drown them in the creek?”
The little minx was pulling out all the stops. Jordan choked back a chuckle at the preposterous notion that Kelly would allow harm to come to a single kitten. “No, Dani, I seriously doubt that your mother would drown them in the creek. Where would you ever get such an idea?”
“That’s what Daddy said should happen to kittens.”
“But you didn’t do it, did you?”
“No, because I found homes for every single one.” She looked up at him speculatively. “Maybe they’d like a new kitten at White Pines. I’ll bet there are mice there and everything. A kitten would be a big help.”
“I’ll ask,” he told her, wondering what his mother would have to say about a kitten scratching her precious antique furniture.
“Promise?”
“Cross my heart.”
A radiant smile spread across her face. “Thanks, Jordan. I really, really think you should take one, too. So you won’t be lonely.”
Actually, he had another idea for staving off loneliness. He glanced up and saw the very woman he had in mind standing in the barn, hands on slender hips, a challenging spark in her eyes as she regarded her daughter.
“You have your work cut out for you, young lady,” Kelly announced, barely sparing a glance for Jordan. “There are seven kittens in here. Francie’s tuckered out and so am I. See to it that Francie has some fresh food and water.”
“Cream, Mommy. Don’t you think she deserves cream just this once? Having kittens is hard work.”
“Fine, bring her some cream.”
Dani tore off across the lawn as fast as her churning little legs could carry her.
“And don’t put it in a good china bowl! Use plastic,” Kelly shouted after her. Finally she glanced at Jordan. “What brings you by on a Friday night? You didn’t mention anything about coming home when we talked earlier in the week.”
Jordan shrugged. He was struck by an uncharacteristic twinge of uncertainty. He tucked his hand into his pocket and tightened his grip around the jewelry box for reassurance. “Just an impulse.”
“Come on in. I’ll make us some tea. Chamomile, I think. You look almost as frazzled as I feel.”
“You don’t look frazzled,” he noted even though it was a charitable remark. Her hair was tousled, her makeup nonexistent, her clothes caked with mud and hay and other stains that didn’t bear too close a scrutiny.
Inside the cozy kitchen, which was shadowed in the gathering twilight, she smiled at him. She took down two china cups and placed them on the kitchen table. “And you’re a lousy liar, despite all that practice you get dispensing your charm all over Houston. How’s the oil business?”
“Challenging.”
Attuned as always to his moods, she paused while filling the teakettle with water. “Bad week?”
“No worse than most.”
Her gaze narrowed. “That doesn’t sound convincing, old chum.”
Jordan picked up the empty cup and turned it slowly in his hands. The fine porcelain was cracked and chipped, but he found the delicacy oddly enchanting. Flaws, he’d
