The Midwife's Glass Slipper / Best For the Baby: The Midwife's Glass Slipper

When Courtney saw him she scrambled from her chair and hugged him around his legs. “Emily knows how to play with toys. She was a farmer.”

“She took the milk to market,” Amy piped in.

“Well, you have been busy. I happen to have an extra half hour freed up. I brought us lunch.” He opened bags on the desk and produced an array of food from sandwiches to salads to fruit cups.

As he settled the girls with a half sandwich each and some milk, he asked Emily, “Would you consider doing this for the afternoon, too?” Unbelievably, he did trust her with his daughters.

“I have patients.”

“I know you do. But Tom’s OB nurse is free this afternoon and he said he wouldn’t mind lending her to me and she’s willing to help. I know this is a lot to ask, but I’d really like to keep some continuity with the girls, and I still haven’t been able to reach Chloie. Sometimes, when she doesn’t want to feel tied down, she’ll leave her cell phone at home. So I have no idea where she is.”

Jared found himself studying Emily again, wanting to get to know her better. They were across the desk from each other, yet there seemed to be a magnetic pull that shortened the distance between them.

Emily chose a fruit cup from the lunch assortment. “Maybe you’d like to talk to Amy and Courtney and find out if they’ve been having a good time.”

“The smiles on their faces when I came in and their rapt attention to you told me all I need to know.”

She looked surprised by the compliment…as if she didn’t get many. Then she asked, “If I watch them this afternoon, do you mind if I take them for a walk down to the garden to look at the fountain?”

Jared hesitated.

“I promise I’ll hold their hands and never let them out of my sight. I know how precious children are, Jared.”

The sound of his name on her lips made his gut tighten. Damn, but he was attracted to her. “All right. But let me know when you leave and when you return.”

He’d lost people in his life. He needed to know his daughters were safe.

He instinctively felt they were safe with Emily.

Ever since he’d hired her, something about her had intrigued him. But he’d shut down that intrigue. He’d tried to turn off the current of electricity that vibrated whenever he got close to her. He was the boss. He shouldn’t be thinking anything but professional thoughts about her.

At the end of the day, Jared found his daughters with Emily in her office, building houses with glue and tongue depressors.

“Have you gotten hold of your cousin?” she asked as soon as she saw him. She lowered her eyes.

Was she trying to avoid the pull of attraction that he was feeling, too? He’d been away from the dating circuit for so long, maybe he was mistaking her kindness for chemistry.

“I’ve left messages for her. I’m hoping she’ll call me this evening.” Then before he even realized what he planned to do, he asked, “Can I repay you tonight with a take-out dinner? Or have you spent enough time in the company of kids?”

He’d never invited a woman back to the house with his girls. Actually, he was hoping for a little adult conversation that wasn’t professional in nature. How long had it been since he’d spent a casual evening talking?

Just talking? his conscience asked. He ignored it.

A light pink color rose to Emily’s cheeks as her gaze met his again. “I’d like that. But I should go home and change first.”

“There’s nothing wrong with what you’re wearing.”

Her eyes widened in surprise as if she hadn’t expected him to notice. Oh, he’d noticed all right. Her slim jacket delineated her breasts and molded to her waist. The tailored slacks fit her hips perfectly.

“I thought casual might be better with the girls.” Then she blushed. “I don’t even know where you live. Do you have a place here in Lubbock?”

“I don’t live far from the hospital. You live in Sagebrush, don’t you?”

“Yes. I share a house with two friends. Actually one now. Tessa got married last week.”

“Tessa McGuire? The pediatrician?”

“Yes. It’s Rossi now. Do you know her?”

“We’ve consulted a few times.”

“My other roommate is Francesca Talbot.”

He nodded. “The neonatologist. I’ve consulted with her more than with Dr…Rossi.”

“I met them after I took my job here. It’s more economical to share a house than—” Her cheeks grew a little pinker. “More information than you need to know,” she said with a small smile.

He found he wanted to know so much more about Emily, and that was dangerous. He never intended to marry again. And to get involved when he had little spare time seemed foolish. Yet she was so pretty with her curly hair, high cheekbones and big brown eyes. She had a great figure, too. His ex-wife had always been way too thin. Had the cancer started before anyone knew it? He should have looked closer…deeper.

Courtney took Emily’s hand. “Come home wif us?”

She hesitated as if she might be having second thoughts, then smiled. “It would be silly of me to drive back to Sagebrush to change. I’ll follow you if that’s okay.”

“Sounds good,” Jared agreed, determined to forget about the past at least for tonight and not think too seriously about kissing Emily. It was a good thing his daughters would be around as pint-sized chaperones. He really didn’t need an entanglement or a complication in his life, especially now with his mother in the hospital. He’d call her on the way home. He should stop in tonight… There were never enough hours in the day.

A half hour later, Jared set the takeout on his dining-room table. Emily was at his elbow, close enough to touch. He found the idea of touching her aroused him. His sexual urges had been in deep freeze for so long that he welcomed feeling alive again.

So much for pint-sized chaperones. They were already digging into their toy box in the great room.

“Girls, go on to the bathroom and wash your hands. I’ll be there in a minute.”

Jared went to the kitchen and Emily followed. “What can I do?”

Apparently she was a doer like he was. “Set the table?” he suggested, opening the cabinet that held dishes.

There were two sets—plain white ironstone dishes and then a collection of cream china with tiny blue roses.

“Oh, how pretty,” Emily commented.

“Those are my mother’s. She insists we use them every holiday. They have to be hand-washed.”

“You don’t like the tradition?”

“I never thought of it that way—as a tradition, I mean. When I was growing up—” He stopped short. “Traditions are okay as long as they bring along happy memories with them. Those dishes don’t.”

Emily looked puzzled, but he wasn’t going to go into his background. Not now. Probably not ever.

“I understand you’re a widower,” Emily said. “How long has it been since your wife died?”