shock and she gasped softly. Good Lord! The daddy of her childhood dreams had looked a lot like... a lot like...
“No,” she said aloud, vehemently, making Beanie stir.
She shook her head silently but firmly. Something must have happened to her memory banks. The daddy in her dream could not possibly have looked just like Scott Carrington. It was just that he was here, he was around. He was the last man she’d seen.
So, for some reason, her mind had decided to substitute his face for the daddy face. That had to be it.
There was certainly no use in trying to mold Scott Carrington into the missing piece in the picture. That was exactly what she’d done with Joey, and look how badly that had turned out.
She’d learned her lesson. She would never expect any man to love her children the way she did. The man in the dream picture didn’t exist, and she refused to go through life searching for something that was impossible to find.
“Aga,” Beanie murmured drowsily.
“Yes, baby,” she whispered, touching his golden hair. “Mama’s here.”
And Mama would always be there, she told herself fiercely. Mama would not get sidetracked by some handsome man; she would not let herself be tempted into a tantalizing affair with some Romeo.
Scott was really very nice—and awfully attractive. And he had been there to catch Beanie. She was grateful, but she was not overwhelmed. Not at all.
When she went downstairs she would carefully, tactfully, let him know she appreciated what he had done but she was not interested in a relationship of any kind. And then she would politely show him out.
She nodded, pleased with her own resolve.
Yes. That was what she would do.
Beanie laughed softly, though he was almost completely asleep. Cathy frowned and studied his little face carefully. He couldn’t possibly be laughing at her and her hopeful plans, could he?
Scott was putting the finishing touches on the window and feeling pleased with himself. It had been some time since he’d worked with his hands this way. He’d forgotten how satisfying it could be. Fixing the window made him feel needed and necessary in the everyday world—a sort of manly feeling. He kind of liked that.
He wasn’t sure how he felt about his audience, however. Turning his head, he looked at the two children watching his every move with solemn faces. Neither of them had said a word for ten minutes. They sat, without moving, on two chairs.
“Boo,” he said softly.
Neither face changed. They looked a lot alike, both strawberry blondes, both green eyed, with freckles on their turned-up noses.
“Where did you two get that red hair?” he asked.
“From our daddy,” Beth responded promptly. Barnaby didn’t say a word. “Me and Barnaby look like Daddy and Beanie looks like Mommy,” Beth continued earnestly.
Scott grinned at her. He had to admit he sort of liked the straightforward way she came right out with things. “Your daddy must be one good-looking guy,” he offered.
Beth’s face was radiant. “He is. Mommy says he used to smile at her and make her knees go wobbly.”
Scott forced back the chuckle that rose in his throat. Cathy with wobbly knees—that was something to shoot for. He tightened the last screw and sighed with satisfaction. Beanie wouldn’t be able to get out on the roof so easily next time.
Beth was still going strong in the background.
“My daddy likes toast with peanut butter on it and cowboy movies,” she told him solemnly. “He has a red sports car.”
Scott threw her a quick smile. “He’s a man after my own heart.”
“Do you like kids?” she asked suddenly.
Scott turned to look at her, thrown for just a second. “Well, I...sure, I like kids,” he fibbed. What else could he do?
“Daddy doesn’t.” She said it calmly, as though announcing the day’s weather.
Scott felt a twinge of sympathy—and then regret that he couldn’t come out more wholeheartedly for kids in general. Still,
“No,” she said aloud, vehemently, making Beanie stir.
She shook her head silently but firmly. Something must have happened to her memory banks. The daddy in her dream could not possibly have looked just like Scott Carrington. It was just that he was here, he was around. He was the last man she’d seen.
So, for some reason, her mind had decided to substitute his face for the daddy face. That had to be it.
There was certainly no use in trying to mold Scott Carrington into the missing piece in the picture. That was exactly what she’d done with Joey, and look how badly that had turned out.
She’d learned her lesson. She would never expect any man to love her children the way she did. The man in the dream picture didn’t exist, and she refused to go through life searching for something that was impossible to find.
“Aga,” Beanie murmured drowsily.
“Yes, baby,” she whispered, touching his golden hair. “Mama’s here.”
And Mama would always be there, she told herself fiercely. Mama would not get sidetracked by some handsome man; she would not let herself be tempted into a tantalizing affair with some Romeo.
Scott was really very nice—and awfully attractive. And he had been there to catch Beanie. She was grateful, but she was not overwhelmed. Not at all.
When she went downstairs she would carefully, tactfully, let him know she appreciated what he had done but she was not interested in a relationship of any kind. And then she would politely show him out.
She nodded, pleased with her own resolve.
Yes. That was what she would do.
Beanie laughed softly, though he was almost completely asleep. Cathy frowned and studied his little face carefully. He couldn’t possibly be laughing at her and her hopeful plans, could he?
Scott was putting the finishing touches on the window and feeling pleased with himself. It had been some time since he’d worked with his hands this way. He’d forgotten how satisfying it could be. Fixing the window made him feel needed and necessary in the everyday world—a sort of manly feeling. He kind of liked that.
He wasn’t sure how he felt about his audience, however. Turning his head, he looked at the two children watching his every move with solemn faces. Neither of them had said a word for ten minutes. They sat, without moving, on two chairs.
“Boo,” he said softly.
Neither face changed. They looked a lot alike, both strawberry blondes, both green eyed, with freckles on their turned-up noses.
“Where did you two get that red hair?” he asked.
“From our daddy,” Beth responded promptly. Barnaby didn’t say a word. “Me and Barnaby look like Daddy and Beanie looks like Mommy,” Beth continued earnestly.
Scott grinned at her. He had to admit he sort of liked the straightforward way she came right out with things. “Your daddy must be one good-looking guy,” he offered.
Beth’s face was radiant. “He is. Mommy says he used to smile at her and make her knees go wobbly.”
Scott forced back the chuckle that rose in his throat. Cathy with wobbly knees—that was something to shoot for. He tightened the last screw and sighed with satisfaction. Beanie wouldn’t be able to get out on the roof so easily next time.
Beth was still going strong in the background.
“My daddy likes toast with peanut butter on it and cowboy movies,” she told him solemnly. “He has a red sports car.”
Scott threw her a quick smile. “He’s a man after my own heart.”
“Do you like kids?” she asked suddenly.
Scott turned to look at her, thrown for just a second. “Well, I...sure, I like kids,” he fibbed. What else could he do?
“Daddy doesn’t.” She said it calmly, as though announcing the day’s weather.
Scott felt a twinge of sympathy—and then regret that he couldn’t come out more wholeheartedly for kids in general. Still,
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