He tried to beat it back, tried to deny it existed, and still it fluttered there, as fragile as a new butterfly.
“Talk to me, Dax. Tell me what’s going on.” Her breath tickled his ear. He heard the hurt and confusion, but he also heard something else—determination and strength.
He realized that this woman-child who’d invaded his life was far stronger than he’d given her credit for. With grit and determination, she’d forged a new life for herself and her baby, taking on the role of his housekeeper when he knew very well that she’d never done this kind of work before. Yet, she’d persevered, and learning fast, had turned the Southpaw Cattle Company into a home filled with love.
He closed his eyes and inhaled her scent. Orange blossoms, she’d told him one day when he’d asked. He loved it. He loved her. She was more woman than his ex had ever been.
“Dax?” she murmured again. Only this time, she brushed a soft kiss across his cheek as she leaned back on her heels. “Will you please talk to me? Tell me what’s going on in that head of yours.”
Talk. He wasn’t much good at that. How did a man express his feelings and concerns without opening himself up to heartache? How did he do what was best for her and still keep his sanity?
He licked lips gone dry and turned toward the half-laid fire. “Let’s get this fire going.”
Jenna said nothing but remained there resting on her heels, hands in her lap. She was thinking, though he had no idea where her thoughts were taking her.
Horses and cows he understood, but he’d never quite figured out women.
Intensely aware of her beside him watching, he arranged kindling on the grate, scraped a long fireplace match along the stone hearth and lit the wadded paper. The flame started small but quickly grew to catch the dry pine.
He’d never been much into analogy, but building the fire reminded him of the woman by his side. He’d been as dry as this kindling. Then Jenna had come along, reminded him of his blessings and the joys of everyday living and started a small spark of hope and light inside him. Now that spark had grown into a flame that burned only for her.
He pivoted to reach for a hickory log. Jenna anticipated his needs, as she’d done for weeks now, and handed him the stick of wood.
His hand trembled the slightest bit as he finished laying the fire and sat back to watch the flames climb higher. Heat began to warm his face.
Jenna shifted away and then stood. Dax looked up. “Where are you going?”
Her mouth curved. “I’ll be back.”
“Promise?” Ah, man, he was a mess.
Her eyes twinkled. “Are you going to talk to me?”
As worried as he was about screwing up everything and causing her to leave, he still found a certain humor in the situation. “Are you going to nag me if I don’t?”
This time she laughed. “What do you think?” And then she hurried out of the living room.
Dax set the fire screen in place, dusted his hands down the sides of his clean jeans and looked around the living room. The place was magazine beautiful since Jenna had rearranged furniture and accessories, added pictures and doodads to the walls and gone all out for Christmas. She’d added a pair of enormous floor pillows for Gavin to flop on when he watched TV. Dax took those now and fluffed them onto the rug in front of the fire, refusing to examine the reasons behind the action.
“Here we go, sir,” Jenna said. He scowled at her. The term sir didn’t sit too well, considering the battle raging inside him. He didn’t need any reminders that she was his employee and that he was twelve years older.
Furry slippers snip-snapping against her heels, she came toward him carrying a tray which she deposited on the coffee table. The scent of cinnamon wafted up from a plate piled high with ornament cookies. The tray was jammed with paintbrushes, tiny bowls of colored frosting and red ribbon.
“Are you putting me to work?”
“This is on my to-do list today. I thought you might like to decorate some while you bask by the fireside. It’s fun.”
Bask by the fireside? Her words tickled him. “What about Gavin?”
“I saved a plate for him. He gets tired after five or six.”
Well, decorating cookies wasn’t the kind of thing he’d had in mind, but he had to admit her idea was better than his. Cozying up with Jenna in front of a fire could be a dangerous proposition.
“Sophie asleep?” he asked, taking up a paint brush.
“Midmorning nap. Crystal said some babies don’t adjust to a schedule right away, but Sophie has. She’s the most amazing baby.” The light of mother-love warmed her face. Dax’s insides squeezed with gladness for Sophie. His baby had never had that kind of female devotion.