Sheri WhiteFeather - The Danforths - Toby, Lea and Adam - Cowboy Crescendo / Steamy Savannah Nights / The Enemy's Daughter

With all the political hullabaloo going on here at Crofthaven, it will provide a calmer atmosphere for us to get better acquainted with our grandson.”

There was no way of sidestepping such a gracious invitation. It made Heather feel all the more keenly her desire for a mother who went out of her way to make a stranger feel at home. Even though she knew that Miranda Danforth was simply being cordial, her words put a lump in her throat. All she had ever known of family was outrageous demands and strict compliance to what others deemed in her best interest. Miranda’s suggestion that people might actually want to get to know her as her own person was flattering in itself. Her invitation to consider herself part of the family when Heather’s own had turned so viciously against her was salve upon an open wound.

“If you’re sure I won’t be in the way,” Heather said, lowering her voice so as not to betray her feelings on the matter. “I would consider it a privilege to attend.”

A chorus of responses assured her that she would not be in the way at all. In fact, if the conspiratorial look exchanged between mother and daughter was any indication, Heather was about to find herself the center of attention whether she wanted to be or not.

Five

Toby refrained from tugging on the tie he was convinced was invented to maintain a choke hold on mankind in general. Though no longer the same little boy who so vigorously resisted being forced to attend such stuffy affairs as this particular fund- raiser in the heart of old Savannah, Toby still preferred the smell of horseflesh to the cloying perfumes wafting through the lobby of the elegant Twin Oaks Hotel. Nor had his palate ever evolved enough to appreciate the taste of caviar, which was heaped in crystal bowls strategically placed around ice sculptures. He’d still take fried chicken packed in a picnic basket any day over black fish eggs that looked better suited for bait than dinner. Not to mention how much better a beer quenched a man’s thirst compared to the dry champagne in the flute he held.

His glass froze halfway to his lips as an enchanting creature swept into the room. His heart thumped hard once, twice, three times in a rapid staccato before skidding to a complete halt. Had a pair of misty-gray eyes not sought his out at that very moment and shocked his poor heart back to working order, he might have made a complete fool of himself by spilling that fancy champagne all over himself and his brother Jacob, who was attempting to have a conversation with him.

“Then she said…”

Toby feigned an interested expression and nodded as if he was actually listening. He did not, however, take his eyes off the vision in blue who was making her way across the crowded room. Even though he’d mostly seen her wearing casual jeans and baggy T-shirts, he would have to be blind not to have noticed how pretty his son’s new nanny was. The gown she chose for tonight’s gala affair was not nearly so unassuming. Its satin fabric hugged her figure and accentuated her womanly beauty in such a striking fashion that every eye in the room was drawn toward it. Or rather to the woman wearing it.

In such a gown, Heather looked no more like a nanny than Cinderella looked like someone destined to sweep hearths for the rest of her days. If anything, Heather reminded Toby of an ice princess as she coolly made her way toward him. The way her gown so lovingly caressed her curves made him believe it had been designed expressly for her. Classic in design, the garment was a shimmer of sequins and beads that glittered with each step she took.

The hemline was deliberately angled from below one knee to midthigh on the opposite side. At five foot two inches tall, Toby had no idea Heather’s legs could look so long and shapely in a pair of strappy silver shoes designed to make a man want to hang himself with his necktie. Her legs went on forever. He tore his gaze away from the sight only long enough to glare at the other men whose gazes were transfixed on the heavenly apparition floating across the wide expanse of the lobby.

Jacob jabbed his brother in the side and asked, “Where the hell’s that one been all your life?”

“Presumably checking on Dylan,” Toby answered dryly.

He took inordinate pride in the fact that he managed a swallow of champagne without choking on it. He drained the flute and set it on a passing waiter’s tray. Not wanting his brother to see that his hands were shaking, Toby shoved them deep into his pockets and leaned against a marble column for support. He struck a pose of accidental insolence.

“That’s not what I meant and you know it,” Jacob countered. “Not all women are like Sheila, you know.”

“Don’t tell me Genie’s twisting your arm to get you involved in one of her harebrained matchmaking schemes.” His groan conveyed more than words alone ever could.

Though the smile that crossed Jacob’s face might be considered sly, his manner was so sympathetic that it invited Toby to open up as he used to when they’d shared their deepest secrets from their bunk beds after the lights were turned off.

“I don’t believe in pushing a man into something he doesn’t want, but I’ve got to tell you, little brother, that after fighting it tooth and nail for way too long, marriage is the best thing that’s ever happened to me. I’m not much for giving advice, but I’m going to tell you something that I hope you take to heart. Don’t let one bad experience scare you away from happiness. It’s one thing to carve a niche out for yourself in the wilds of Wyoming and quite another to hide from life completely.”

Since those words came from his brother and because they were motivated by sincere concern, Toby chose not to hit him square in the mouth as he would any other man who would presume to chastise him. As it was, he simply stepped aside when his sisterin- law Larissa linked her arm through her husband’s and drew him to the dance floor with an apology to Toby. The sight sent a tiny twinge of jealousy through him.

It was all well and good for Jacob—barely back from his honeymoon—to lecture him on the glory of wedded bliss, considering the fact that he had never been divorced. His marriage wasn’t based on deceit. His wife hadn’t lied about using birth control and deliberately gotten pregnant in hopes of “snagging” a good catch. Jacob had never had a hole punched through his heart. A hole so big that the wind whistled through it whenever he stepped outside. Never had a woman stolen his son’s voice from him in her haste to move on with a more cosmopolitan life.

Or stolen his own faith in marriages like the one his parents shared for so many wonderful years. It was the kind of permanence he had taken for granted growing up. That his wife wasn’t willing to work through their problems still stung. Toby didn’t wish his brother ill. He just longed to find something as amazing as Jacob had. Fearing that was impossible, it was far easier to turn his back on love altogether than to risk being hurt again.

“Is anything wrong?” Heather asked, stepping beside him and studying the furrows lining Toby’s brow.

She wore her hair loosely pinned at her nape and swept up in a style that was utterly feminine and flattering. A few loose tendrils framed a face that appeared unaware of its own beauty.

He shook his head as if to clear it of old cobwebs and resisted the urge to test the texture of a silken tendril between his fingers. “Nothing, except that you take my breath away. If you’ll just be so kind as to stand beside me for the rest of the evening, your beauty should discourage all the single women my mother has lined up in hopes of fixing me up. Ever since the whirlwind romance that picked Genie up and deposited her in front of an altar with the man of her dreams, she’s been wanting to duplicate the experience for me.”