A Mother for Cindy

With a deep sigh Jesse Bradshaw sank into the chair at her kitchen table. After the hectic past hour getting her son off to visit his friend Sean O’Brien, she now had time to read her daily verses from the Bible and collect herself before starting her day.

Dear Heavenly Father, please help me to make it through—

Honk! Honk!

Jesse bolted from her chair, nearly toppling it to the tile floor, and raced for the door. Not again. Stepping outside, she scanned her backyard and found that her geese had a large man who was holding a crying little girl, trapped by the edge of the lake. As Jesse hurried toward her pet geese, the one overriding impression was the anger carved into the stranger’s face. He tried to shield the child from the irate birds that flapped their wings, hissing and honking their displeasure at their space being invaded.

“Step away from the nest,” Jesse shouted across her yard that sloped to the lake behind her house.

“What do you think I’ve been trying to do?”

The man’s anger was momentarily directed at her as she neared him. His dark gaze drilled into her while Fred darted at him and nipped his leg. The stranger winced and held the little girl up higher to keep the geese from attacking her.

“I’ll get their attention. You run.”

“My pleasure,” he agreed between clenched teeth at the same time Ethel took her turn at his other leg.

“Daddy, Daddy, make them go away! I’m scared!” The child hugged her father tighter and curled her legs around him so they weren’t a dangling target for the geese.

“Everything’s okay, Cindy.” He awkwardly patted the child’s back while glaring at Jesse, clearly conveying his own displeasure.

“Fred! Ethel!” Jesse put herself between the geese and the man with the little girl. She waved her arms like a windmill and jumped up and down, yelling the pair’s names in her sternest voice, hoping none of her neighbors saw this undignified display.

Thankfully Ethel calmed down and waddled toward her nest. Fred, however, would have nothing to do with her. He focused on the stranger, who was trying to back away. Flying around Jesse, Fred went for the man’s leg again. Jesse threw herself in front of the goose. She got nipped on the thigh.

“Get out of here,” she whispered loudly. Pain spread from the sore place on her leg as she continued to come between Fred and the intruders.

Carrying his daughter, the man hurried across the yard, a limp to his gait. At the edge of her property, he threw a glance over his shoulder, an ashen cast to his dark features. Jesse shivered in the warm spring air. This man was definitely not happy with her geese—or her.

Fred settled down as the two people moved farther away. After giving one final loud honk, he toddled back to Ethel and stood guard, his beady black eyes watching the pair disappear inside the house next door.

So those were her new neighbors, staying in the Millers’ summer home.

Jesse headed for her back door, rubbing the reddened area on her thigh. Everyone in Sweetwater knew to stay away from her backyard while Ethel and Fred were guarding their nest. They could be so fierce when their home was invaded.

With all the activity at her own house, she’d forgotten about her new neighbors who’d moved in two days ago. She supposed she should bake them some cookies and welcome them to Sweetwater—oh, and warn them about her geese.

Shaking her head, she stepped into her bright kitchen and came to a stop just inside the door. Her grandfather sat at the table, his gray hair sticking up at odd angles, a scowl on his face.

“Those geese could wake the dead,” he muttered into his cup of coffee while taking some sips.

“I’m sorry. I know you went to bed late last night. But someone was in our backyard. You know how they get with strangers.”

Her grandfather’s head snapped up, and he regarded her with a pinpoint gaze. “Not the Hawthorne boys trying to steal their eggs again?”

“Nope. Our new neighbors.” Jesse eased onto the chair next to her grandfather. “And I have to say I don’t think I made a very good first impression.”

He peered at the clock over the stove. “It’s barely eight. Awfully early to be paying us a visit.”

“I don’t think that’s what they were doing.”

His bushy dark brows shot up. “What kind of neighbors do we have?”

“Gramps, that’s what I intend to find out later this morning.”

Several hours later at her neighbor’s house, Jesse pressed the bell and waited and waited. When the door finally swung open, she hoisted up the plate of chocolate chip cookies, as though it was a shield of armor, ready to give her welcoming spiel. The words died on her lips.

The man from earlier filled the entrance with his large frame. He wore a sleeveless T-shirt and shorts that revealed muscular legs and arms. Sweat coated his body and ran down his face as he brought a towel up to wipe it away. When her gaze traveled up his length, power came to mind. Her survey came to rest on his face. Her smile of greeting vanished along with any rational thought.

Earlier she hadn’t really had time to assess the man who had been partially hidden by his daughter. The impression of anger and the need to get the man and his daughter to safety had been all she had focused on. Now her attention was riveted to him. His rugged features formed a pleasing picture and only confirmed his sense of power—and danger. When she looked into those incredibly dark-brown eyes, she felt lost in a world only occupied by them.

One of his brows arched. “Come to finish me off?”

His deep, raspy voice broke the silence, dragging Jesse away from her thoughts, all centered around him. “No.” She swallowed several times. “No, I brought you and your family some cookies.” She thrust the plate at his chest, nearly sending her offering toppling to the porch at his feet.

With a step back, he glanced down at the plate of cookies.

“They’re chocolate chip,” she added, conscious of the fact that he was now staring at her. Not one hint at what was going on in his mind was revealed in his expression. “I wanted to welcome you to Sweetwater—properly.”

Finally he smiled, deep creases at the corners of his eyes that glinted. The gesture curled her toes and caused her heart to pound a shade faster. My, what a smile! His wife sure was a lucky woman.

“And earlier wasn’t a proper welcome?”

“I’m sorry about not warning you concerning Fred and Ethel. Everyone knows to stay away from my backyard at this time of year. I meant to. But you know how it is. Time got away from me what with the order I needed to fill.” Realizing she was babbling, she clamped her mouth closed, trying not to stare at his potent smile that transformed his face.

“Fred and Ethel are pets?”

“I raised Fred after a pack of wild dogs got his mother and father. A friend gave me Ethel for Fred. He really can be a dear.”

“A dear? I don’t think our definition of a dear is the same.”

Despite his words, amusement sounded in his voice, and Jesse responded with a grin. “Well, not at this time when he’s playing he-goose. You know males and their territory.”

The man laughed. “I suppose I do.” He took the plate and offered her his hand. “I’m Nick Blackburn and I’m sure my daughter and I will enjoy these cookies.”

No wife? Jesse wondered, slipping her hand within his and immediately feeling a warmth flash up her arm from his brief touch. “I’m Jesse Bradshaw. Are you and your daughter going to be here long?”

“Two months.”

She remembered the little girl’s pale face and plea to her father. “Is your daughter okay?”

“Cindy is happy as a lark now that she’s sitting in front of the television set watching her favorite show.”

“How old is she? I have a son who just turned eight.”

“She’ll be seven later this summer.” He stepped to the side. “Please come in.”

When she’d come over to his house, she’d had no intention of staying. She still had that order to complete. “I’d better not. I can see I interrupted your exercises.”