Meet Mr. Prince / Once a Cowboy...: Meet Mr. Prince

She shrugged again. “Nothing.”

He gave her a quizzical smile. “Nothing? Is something wrong?”

“I don’t know.”

“What do you mean, you don’t know? Is your throat hurting again?”

She shook her head. “No. It doesn’t hurt.”

“Well, then …”

For a long moment, Katie stared down at her hands, which were folded in her lap. When she looked up, her eyes met his almost defiantly. “Fanny said that woman is coming for dinner.”

“By ‘that woman,’ do you mean Miss Fairchild?”

“Yes. Her.”

Zach suppressed a sigh. Before Jenny died, he could count on one hand the number of times he’d sighed. Now that’s all he seemed to do.

“I don’t like her.”

“Katie, you don’t even know Miss Fairchild. How can you not like her?”

“I don’t know,” she mumbled. “I just don’t.”

“But why not, honey? You must have a reason.”

Katie didn’t answer, just kept looking down and avoiding his eyes.

“Katie?”

Finally she looked up. Zach was alarmed to see tears. “Katie,” he said gently. “What’s wrong, honey?”

“Are you gonna marry her?”

Zach’s mouth dropped open. “Marry who? Miss Fairchild?”

She nodded miserably.

“Of course I’m not going to marry her. She’s just a friend. Someone who is working for me.” And yet, even as he said this, he knew it wasn’t the whole truth. He and Georgie weren’t really friends. They hadn’t known each other long enough to be friends. And he was attracted to her. Too much so, in fact. Maybe Katie had sensed that.

“I don’t want you to marry somebody else.” Now the tears had spilled down her face. “I want Mommy.”

“Oh, sweetheart …” Zach knelt by the bed. He felt like crying himself. “I know you do. I—I do, too.”

“Why’d she have to die?” Katie sobbed.

At times like this, Zach felt so helpless. He knew the pat answers to these questions, but he also knew how unsatisfying they were. “I don’t know, sweetheart,” he said honestly, putting his arms around her. “Sometimes things happen that have no explanation.”

“It’s not fair.”

“I know it’s not fair.”

“I miss her.”

“Me, too,” he whispered.

After a few minutes, Katie seemed to gather herself together, and her tears stopped. “You know, honey,” he said, reaching for a tissue so she could wipe her eyes, “Mommy’s always with us. I know you can’t see her, but she’s here. She’s probably watching us right now, and maybe, if you close your eyes, you can feel her giving you a hug.”

Katie’s eyes met his, and he could see she wasn’t buying it. She didn’t want her mother’s spirit. She wanted a real, live mother. And not just any mother. Her mother. Zach sighed again. What could he say to his sweet child to make her feel better? That he would never marry anyone else? Never bring another woman into their lives? How could he promise that? He was only thirty-seven years old. He didn’t want to spend the rest of his life as a widower. And he knew Jenny wouldn’t have wanted him to, either. In fact, one of the last things she’d said to him before she died was that she hoped he’d meet someone someday.

Finally, not knowing what else to say to his daughter, he whispered, “I love you, Katie. That will never change. You know that, don’t you?”

She nodded.

Zach hugged her again, then in a brighter voice said, “Fanny’s got macaroni and cheese and tomato soup for you and Jeremy. Do you feel like eating tonight?”

“Uh huh.”

“Okay, let’s go then. I’ll sit with you until Miss Fairchild gets here, okay?”

“Okay.”

It hurt Zach to hear the resignation in her voice. Poor kid. She’d barely had time to be a kid before Jenny got sick. Then there’d been the year of treatment, the chemo, the hair loss, the weight loss—all taking place in front of Katie’s eyes. She’d had to grow up too soon, experience things no kid should have to experience.

In that moment, Zach knew he could not add to the burden Katie carried. No, he couldn’t promise his daughter he’d never marry again, because he hoped someday he would. But he could promise himself that he would never do anything to make Katie feel she came second in his life. And if that meant he would have to be alone for longer than he’d like to be, well, that was the way it was. Unless and until he met a woman his children could wholeheartedly love and accept, he’d just have to accept his own burden of loneliness.

Because his kids came first.

And always would.

Chapter Seven

Georgie had just finished getting ready—she’d changed into her favorite pair of black jeans, a red sweater, knee-high black boots with four-inch heels (she’d take a cab to Zach’s, no walking in these boots)—and was ready to go out the door when her cell rang. Stopping, she dug the phone out of her bag and saw that it was her mother calling.

“Hey, Mom, I’m just on my way out the door.”

“Hi, honey. I was thinking about you and thought I’d check in. See how you’re doing.”

“Great. I’m doing great. Listen, can you hold on a minute?” Georgie juggled the phone and her bag while letting herself out of the apartment. Once the door was securely closed and locked, she headed for the elevator and resumed her conversation.

“So where are you going?” her mother asked.

“My boss invited me to have dinner at his place. Right now I’m waiting on the elevator.”

“Are he and his wife having a dinner party or something?”

“No, it’s just me, and there’s no wife. But don’t worry, it’s all on the up and up. He’s a widower with three young children. Plus a housekeeper.” Georgie wasn’t sure if Fanny lived in, but she probably did.