Father In Training. Susan Mallery
on, sweetie. I won’t be long. It’s warm outside. Why don’t you go and see if you can find that bluebird again?”
“Okay.” Nichole smiled.
She had dimples in each cheek and her mother’s eyes. Kyle felt a slight twist in his gut. Sometimes he got the crazy notion that he should have risked settling down and having kids. He knew better. It was like wishing for the moon. Something to think about when he’d had too much to drink or got lonely, but completely irrational. He wasn’t the type. Long-term relationships didn’t work out.
When the children had left, Sandy turned to him and nodded purposefully. “Let’s begin in the kitchen,” she said, and turned to the right.
“It’s this way.” He motioned to their left.
“But they sent me a floor plan.”
“Then your floor plan was reversed. The kitchen is through here.”
“How do you know?”
“I used to know Kelsey Michaelson. I’ve been in this house before.” He looked at the dust and cobwebs. “But not in a long time.”
“I see.” She started toward the kitchen.
“Hold on.” He caught up with her and took her hand. Her fingers were warm against his. She looked startled when he touched her. Good. He would deal better with Sandy if he kept her off guard. “Why don’t you let me lead the way.”
Her gaze narrowed as she pulled her hand free of his. “Why?”
“In case we run into something creepy or slimy—or yucky.”
“All right.” She stepped back to allow him to pass.
He led her through the empty dining room. The hardwood floors were dirty, but otherwise in great shape. He stopped and bent down. “These will clean up and look terrific,” he said, brushing his fingers against the wood.
She stopped next to him. Close, but not too close. He grinned. If his instincts were correct, he made Sandy nervous. The thought pleased him.
“The realtor told me all the floors are in excellent condition,” she said. “I’ve been reading up on refinishing, in case some of them need a little work.”
“You can’t do that yourself.”
She planted her hands on her hips. “Because I’m a woman?” She didn’t wait for him to answer. “Give me a break. I don’t need a man in my life to make things work. I can do it all by myself, thank you very much.”
He stood up slowly, moving closer as he did. “Not because you’re a woman. Because there’s probably a thousand square feet of hardwood flooring on the first floor alone. It would take you months if you did it yourself, and some of the materials you have to use can smell pretty nasty. You wouldn’t want your children breathing in that stuff for so long, would you?”
She held his gaze, searching his face as if looking for deception. “That makes sense,” she said grudgingly.
“And because you’re a woman.” He grinned, then held up his hands in a gesture of surrender. “Just kidding, I promise.”
A slight smile pulled at the corners of her mouth. “You haven’t changed at all.”
“Not enough to matter,” he agreed. “Come on, let’s check out the house.”
He led the way to the large bright kitchen. Big windows opened onto the side yard and driveway. The curtains looked as if they’d been lunch for a hungry swarm of moths, while an army of ants trooped across the white tile counters. Sandy checked out the pantry and utility porch behind the kitchen, and Kyle opened cupboard doors.
“I don’t see any signs that your mouse has relatives living here,” he said.
She paused in the doorway to the pantry. “I won’t ask what you’re looking for.” She folded her arms over her chest. “At least there’s a lot of storage space in the pantry.”
Kyle walked over to where she was standing. He put his arm around her shoulder and tried to draw her close. She resisted. He settled on giving her a brotherly squeeze.
“You’re discouraged,” he said.
She shrugged.
“It’s going to be a lot of work, but I’ll help. By the time the furniture arrives, we’ll have the place clean and painted.”
Sandy made a great show of pulling free of his arm, then walking to the other side of the kitchen. “I appreciate your willingness to help,” she said. “But no thanks. The kids and I want to do this by ourselves. We don’t want, or need, a man in our lives. The children and I have everything under control.”
“I could tell by how you all reacted to the mouse.”
She looked away. “Yes, well, that was different. I wasn’t expecting to find a mouse. Now that I know there might be more, I can handle it.”
He glanced around at the dusty cupboards, the trail of ants and the limp, gnawed curtains. “You’re not planning to sleep here tonight, are you?”
“We’re staying at a motel in town.” She took a step toward him, then paused. “Look, Kyle, you’re being really nice and neighborly, but it isn’t necessary. I’m not the sort of woman who needs rescuing. I knew the house hadn’t been lived in when I bought it. It needs a little cleaning and some paint. We’ll manage.”
“The ceilings in most of the rooms are over ten feet high,” he said. “Do you have the equipment to handle that?”
“I’ll buy a ladder.” She pointed back the way they’d come. “I don’t want to keep you.”
She was throwing him out. Okay, maybe putting his arm around her had been a little too much, but she’d looked as if she’d needed a good hug. If she was a widow, she probably hadn’t had a hug in a long time. Unless she was seeing somebody. He frowned.
“What’s wrong?” she asked.
He stared at her. She wore her wedding ring on her left hand. Was she still in love with her late husband, or did she use the ring to warn men off? From what he remembered of Sandy, it could be either. And he was willing to bet there was no other man in her life.
“Kyle?”
“Hmm? Nothing’s wrong. I was just thinking. Okay, Sandy. You win. You want to take care of this by yourself, you go ahead. If you need me, I’m just at the end of the driveway.”
“I’ll remember.”
She escorted him out the door and down the porch steps. Her three children were waiting for them by the station wagon.
“Any more mice?” Lindsay asked.
“None that we saw,” Sandy answered briskly. “So there’s no reason to avoid the cleaning.” She opened the back of the car and started pulling out buckets and brooms. Lindsay and Blake groaned. Nichole grabbed a feather duster and smiled.
Kyle didn’t want to leave them. The job was too big. There was no way they would finish before the furniture arrived. The downstairs had been bad enough. Who knows what it was like upstairs. There could be carpet to tear up and—
Let it alone, he told himself. Sandy had made it clear she wasn’t interested in him or his help.
“See ya,” he said, and started toward the gatehouse.
“Wait,” Sandy called.
He turned toward her.
“Would you mind calling an exterminator about the mice?” she asked. “The phone here won’t be hooked up until tomorrow.” She looked down at Nichole and smiled. “We need one who doesn’t kill the mice, but just traps them and takes them away.”
“No problem,” he