Diana Whitney - One Man's Promise

“Sarah!” McCade boomed.

The woman flushed, fell silent, backed away clasping her hands as McCade studied C. J. Moray with undisguised contempt. “So you’re the one.” There was no mistaking the disdain in his voice.

To her credit, C.J. cocked her head as though sizing the older man up, then offered a smile that was somehow sincere and cautious at the same time. “You must be Lissa’s grandfather. I’m pleased to meet you.”

Richard stepped between them before McCade could say something even more blatantly rude. Cupping C.J.’s elbow, he ushered her to the porch. “I’m sorry about that. I wish I could tell you that beneath that gruff exterior beats a heart of gold, but the only thing beneath that gruff exterior is a gruff interior.”

Her laugh was soft, smoky. Enticing. “I understand.”

For some odd reason, he believed her. “Thank you.”

“For what?”

“For everything.” He was mesmerized by her smile, hypnotized by the amused sparkle in her dark eyes. This was without doubt the most intoxicating woman he’d ever laid eyes on. She was also the most perceptive, a thought that was soon to be proven yet again as she gazed past his shoulder.

The sparkle drained from her eyes, replaced by a tender warmth that was, oddly enough, even more alluring. “Hello, Lissa. It’s nice to see you again.”

With some effort Richard followed her gaze, saw his daughter on the porch looking sullen and angry. She jerked a thumb at the Frisbee C.J. held. “Leave that here,” she commanded. “It belongs to Rags.”

Still smiling, C.J. held the Frisbee out until Lissa stomped down the steps to retrieve it. “Is Rags the first dog you’ve owned?”

Lissa paused, issued a sharp nod that was more an expression of annoyance than agreement.

“Pets can be difficult, can’t they?” Lowering herself, C.J. sat on her heels so her face and the child’s were on the same level. “Having a dog is kind of like having a naughty child and an irritating kid brother all at the same time. Except, of course, my irritating kid brother never drank out of the toilet. At least, I don’t think so. He was pretty weird.”

Despite an obvious intent to remain angry, Lissa couldn’t prevent a smile from tweaking the corners of her tightly clamped mouth. “Do you have lots of brothers?”

“Two, one older than me and one younger. I also have two older sisters.”

“You musta had lots of fun playing and stuff.”

“Yes, we had fun. Sometimes we hurt each other’s feelings and made each other mad, but we never really meant to.” She paused a beat before adding, “Just like Rags never meant to hurt your feelings or make you mad. He loves you very much.”

The child’s lip quivered. “Then how come he wants to go play with you?”

“Because he loves me, too. Dogs have room in their hearts to love lots of people.”

“Uh-uh.” A look of disbelief.

“It’s true, cross my heart.” She drew an invisible X on her chest, flashed a dazzling smile. “You love Rags, don’t you?”

Lissa sniffed, nodded.

“And you love your daddy, too, just like you love your grandpa and your grandma?” C.J. waited for the child’s limp shrug. “How would you feel if someone told you that you had to choose only one of them to love, and you weren’t allowed to care about anyone else ever again?”

Another limp shrug. “Bad.”

“Of course you’d feel bad, but even more important, you wouldn’t be able to do it.” C.J. hesitated, then took the child’s hand, sandwiched it between her own palms. “You couldn’t stop loving your daddy or your grandparents just because someone told you to, and Rags can’t stop caring about me, either, but that doesn’t mean he loves you any less.”

To Richard’s astonishment, Lissa bent to whisper something in C.J.’s ear. The child smiled, then laughed. A moment later the two females were giggling madly, whispering like old chums. If he hadn’t seen it with his own eyes, he wouldn’t have believed it. His sullen, selfish child was engrossed in clearly joyful conversation with the very same woman she’d demonized only moments ago.

C.J. stood suddenly, skimmed a glance at Richard. “Rags and I are taking a nature hike on Saturday. Would it be all right if Lissa came along? You’re welcome, too, of course.”

“Please, Daddy? I wanna go, I really, really do. Please?”

Richard’s initial instinct was to refuse. Outings with Lissa were difficult, tension-filled affairs that must be tediously prepared for with medical precision. Still, there was something fascinating about C. J. Moray, her vibrancy and infectious zest for life, the ease with which she’d transformed his sulking daughter into a happy, hopeful child.

“Absolutely not!” Thompson McCade loomed in the doorway, red faced and furious. “I will not have my granddaughter traipsing through muck and mud until her lungs explode. I will not allow it.”

All doubts dissipated instantly. If McCade was dead set against something, then Richard was dead set in favor of it. He met his father-in-law’s angry stare with one of cold determination, but it was C.J. to whom he spoke. “What time Saturday?”

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