The Husband Show

“Then you’ll have to prove yourself,” Aurora said. “You’ll have to prove you’re good enough to be her father.”

“I don’t have to prove anything,” he all but snapped. “I’m already her father.”

“Biologically,” the irritating woman said. “But that doesn’t mean anything.”

“It does to me,” Jake retorted, turning toward her.

She blinked. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said anything.”

“Hey,” Sam interjected. “You’re both right. This isn’t going to be easy, but you’re Winter’s father now. You’re all she has.”

“And I’m scared to death.” He didn’t care if the woman next to him heard it.

“You’ll do good,” Sam assured him. “I’m still learning how this parent business works, but it’s a pretty good deal.”

Aurora faced Winter. “Do you think you’d like to stay here for a little while and visit with your new family?”

Winter considered the question carefully while Jake listened for the answer. He had no idea what she would say. “Well, I’d like to stay and learn to ride Mr. MacGregor’s horses, but my mother died and now Jake is stuck with me and we’re going to Nashville.”

“I am not stuck—”

“You are,” she interrupted. “But it’s not your fault.” She looked up at her uncle. “Have you ever been to Nashville?”

“I have not,” he replied. “But we’ll certainly visit you there.”

“You will?”

He smiled. “Of course. All of us. Maybe we’ll get to hear your dad sing somewhere.”

Jake laughed. “Are you forgetting how my guitar made you crazy when you were a kid?”

“It was pretty bad at first,” Sam admitted. “But you got better at it.”

“I’d like to stay here, but just for a little while,” Winter told Aurora. “I’m in no hurry to go to a new school.”

“That’s right,” Aurora said in realization. “You should be in school.”

“I’ll need to take a placement test for seventh grade, but there shouldn’t be any problem. I excelled in everything at Lady Pettigrew’s.”

“Really? Everything?”

“Well,” she said, looking down at the fried chicken on her plate. “Except deportment.”

“Now, that runs in the family,” Jake muttered, glancing toward Sam.

* * *

“DID YOU BRING your shotgun?” Jake thought that was about as good an opening line he’d ever used, but Aurora Jones looked less than impressed.

“Please,” she drawled. “Don’t bother flirting.”

He wasn’t even thinking of flirting, not really. He couldn’t help looking at her, though. And wanting to tease her until she relented a bit and smiled at him. “You’re a beautiful woman. Why isn’t flirting allowed? Are you married? Engaged? In a relationship with the local sheriff? What?”

“You can forget the charm,” she said, waving her hand as if to wave him away. “It’s wasted on me. I’m immune.”

“All right,” was the only reply he could manage. “I’m flattered that you think I’m, uh, charming, but that’s not—”

“And the whole country-singer thing? Forget it. I’m not the groupie type.”

“I didn’t think you—”

“Don’t,” she said.

“Don’t what?”

“You’re doing it again. That smile.”

Jake sighed. “You are a lot of work, you know that?”

She had the gall to look affronted. “What exactly is that supposed to mean?”

“Never mind. I just wanted to thank you again for helping Winter this morning.

She looked doubtful, so he continued.

“She told me you thought she was in some kind of trouble, that you’d offered to call the police and protect her from me. I appreciate that.”

She almost smiled. “It could have caused you a lot of trouble.’

“It could have caused you to miss the wedding.”

They both went silent for a long moment.

“Your daughter has been through a lot, am I right?”

“Yes.”

“Is any of it your fault?”

He thought about that. “Technically, no. I didn’t know anything about her,” he said. “But I keep thinking I should have.”

“Maybe,” she said. “But you’re with her now, so don’t screw it up.”

“All right.”

“I meant what I said, about proving yourself. Being a father. You won’t know if you did a good job for a long, long time.”

“Do you have children?”