Roan blew out his breath. “I—”
“I’m willing to pay the going rate for lessons.” Then she told him how she’d botched her first attempt at baking cookies with her friend Charlie.
He steeled his jaw to keep from grinning at her mix-up with the salt and sugar. He didn’t want her to think he was making fun of her. “I’m sorry. I just don’t bake anymore.”
“I understand and again, I am grateful for the videos.” Her smile faltered. “I hope I didn’t offend you by pressing the issue.”
“You?” That amused him. “No way could you offend me, Jazzy.”
“You never know,” she quipped. “I might chew with my mouth full.”
“Just saw you eat. You don’t.” He paused. “It takes a lot to offend me.”
They stared into each other’s eyes and Roan didn’t know what might have happened next, if the back door hadn’t slammed open and his ranch hand Rowdy Keats hadn’t run into the house hollering.
“Boss, the back forty is on fire!”
Chapter 7
“I called 911,” the red-faced ranch hand gasped. “Leon and Polk are herding the livestock from the pasture. I came back for sandbags and shovels.”
Open-mouthed, Jazzy stared at the harried man who smelled of smoke and paused to cough hard.
Roan grabbed his Stetson from the hat hook and turned back to Jazzy. “Can you stay with Trinity?”
“Sure, sure, yes, yes. Please, take care of your animals.” The man had an emergency, she wasn’t about to tell him she had a hair appointment for later that day. She’d reschedule.
“Trin,” he said to his daughter. “You mind Jazzy, okay?”
“’Kay.” The little girl nodded.
He swept his child into his arms and gave her a big kiss, then straightened and met Jazzy’s gaze again. “I’ll be back as soon as I can.”
“No worries. Go, go.” She waved him out the door behind the ranch hand, her pulse thudding in her throat.
He lifted his hand goodbye and was gone. Leaving Jazzy alone in a stranger’s house with his four-year-old. Luckily, Jazzy loved entertaining kids. She’d even been accused of being a big kid herself at heart.
Jazzy sent up a prayer that Roan, his ranch hands, and his animals would come through this just fine. In the meantime, Trinity was her focus. “So, what would you like to do?”
“Go outside and swing!” Trinity raised her arms in the air.
“Um, maybe not. How about we put up the Christmas decorations?”
“Oh yay, yay!” Trinity hopped around on one foot. “But first I gotta pee-pee.”
Jazzy took her girl to the bathroom, made sure she was okay, and then stepped outside in the hallway to give the child privacy. She folded her arms over her chest and looked at the wall lined with family photographs. Heartbreaking to see pictures of a smiling Claire Sullivan and Trinity as a baby. This family had suffered a great loss.
Feeling like a voyeur, Jazzy averted her gaze.
Trinity opened the bathroom as she pulled up her pants and Jazzy helped her wash her hands. In the hall, the child pointed at a particularly poignant photograph of Claire discreetly breastfeeding the baby.
“That’s my mommy.”
“She’s very pretty.”
Trinity tucked her hands into her armpits. “I don’t ’member her.”
Jazzy didn’t know what to say so she gentlyreached for Trinity’s hand. “Let’s go put up the Christmas tree.”