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know, to break the sexual tension.”

      “Thanks, but I’m sure we’ll be fine. He focuses on his work and hardly notices anything else.”

      “Too bad. Well, keep me up-to-date!”

      Lauren had promised she would, but knew she wouldn’t. There’d be nothing with which to update Sherry. Jack Mason was an attractive man, but she had no intention of getting involved with him.

      His attractiveness assailed her when she opened the door to him at nine o’clock. It took a few seconds for her to realize Ally once again was in her handsome daddy’s arms.

      “Ally, I’m so glad you came back to see me. Come in.”

      After a moment, the man holding Ally said, “Do you mind if I come in, too?”

      “Of course, Mr. Mason. I was expecting you.”

      Lauren was a little embarrassed about her reaction to the little girl. She obviously had irritated Jack with her enthusiasm, too.

      “I apologize for bringing Ally again. I couldn’t find anyone to take her.” He stood there stiffly, not moving past the front door, as if he thought she would deny him entrance.

      “Are you a mommy?” the little girl asked suddenly.

      “Ally, hush,” Jack Mason urged.

      “Yes, sweetie, I’m a mommy,” Lauren said readily. She thought of herself as a mother; after all, she’d raised her siblings after their parents’ deaths.

      “I’d appreciate it if you’d ignore any personal questions,” Jack said hurriedly. “Ally doesn’t know better.”

      Lauren thought about explaining her life, but then she closed her lips and said nothing. Jack Mason was her carpenter, not her lover. That established, she directed him to the office.

      With Ally staring at her over her father’s shoulder, Jack marched down the hall toward the empty office.

      Lauren followed after a minute. He hadn’t brought in any supplies. She was curious about what he was going to do.

      He was coming out of her office as she got to the door and they almost collided. “Oh, sorry,” she said.

      “My daughter is drawing pictures and I’m bringing in supplies. If you’ll excuse me,” he said with exaggerated politeness.

      She stood aside and waited until he was out of sight. Then she entered the office. “How are you this morning, Ally?”

      “I’m fine. Daddy said I had to sit right here,” she said softly.

      “I know. But I have an idea.” She left the room to go to her second bedroom. She’d stored a lot of things in that room that she just couldn’t part with when they’d sold the family home. One of them was a small child’s desk. James had used it a lot when he was little.

      “Look, Ally,” she said as she carried it into the office. “You can sit in the same spot but use this desk. It’ll make it easier for you to draw your pictures.” Lauren looked at the big smile on Ally’s face. “Come on, let’s try it.”

      “Do you think Daddy will mind?”

      “I don’t think so.”

      “Well, okay.” Ally sat down in the desk. “Look! It fits me!”

      “Yes, it definitely does.” Lauren couldn’t help but smile.

      “What are you doing?” Jack demanded, pausing in the doorway, his arms full of lumber.

      “I was just giving Ally a way to be comfortable. She’s still in the room with you.”

      “Fine! Ally, stay there. I’m bringing in a lot of material and I don’t want you getting hurt.”

      “I won’t, Daddy.” Before he could leave the room, she added, “But I wish I could watch Sesame Street.”

      “Ally!” he exclaimed.

      “I’m not using the television right now. I’d be glad to put on Sesame Street.” Lauren held her breath. Not that it really mattered to her, but she wanted Ally to be happy. Besides, Sesame Street was educational.

      “Well, as long as you’re not watching it, I guess that would be okay.” He turned to his child. “Sit on the floor. I don’t want you messing up that white couch.”

      When Lauren held out her hand, Ally took it and slid out of the desk. Together they left the office.

      “You did eat breakfast this morning, didn’t you, Ally?” Lauren asked after Jack went outside again.

      “Daddy got me a biscuit. We were running late.”

      “Oh, my, I’ll fix you some scrambled eggs and toast. You do like scrambled eggs, don’t you?”

      “I think so,” Ally said, her eyes wide.

      After turning on the television, Lauren hurried to the kitchen to make the child some breakfast. She’d always made sure her siblings had a good meal to start the day. Ally was just as appreciative, eating well.

      After Sesame Street was over, Lauren invited Ally to the kitchen to make cookies. They had a great time, chatting and making chocolate-chip cookies. As Lauren had suspected, Ally’s father had forgotten all about her, having gotten so engrossed in his work.

      With the cookies cooling on the racks, Lauren made sandwiches for lunch.

      “I think Daddy made lunch for us,” Ally said after Lauren had finished preparing the sandwiches.

      “He brought lunch for both of you?”

      “He bought us some sandwiches from a store.”

      “Ah, I see. Well, I think these sandwiches will be better. They’re bacon, lettuce and tomato sandwiches. Let’s go get Daddy.”

      When they reached the office, Jack frowned. “Is Sesame Street over?”

      “Yes, Daddy. Lauren made us lunch.”

      He looked at his watch. “No. I bought us lunch, remember?”

      “But I’ve already made bacon, lettuce and tomato sandwiches. Can’t you save those for tomorrow?” Lauren waited for his answer.

      “No. We’ll go sit in the car and eat.” Jack began putting away his tools.

      “But, Daddy—” Ally began.

      “You could at least eat in the kitchen so Ally will be able to eat a proper lunch.”

      “And, Daddy, we made cookies,” Ally said as part of her plea.

      “You what?” Jack asked. “I thought you were just watching Sesame Street?”

      Lauren stepped in to protect Ally from her father’s irritation. “Sesame Street ended hours ago. I asked Ally if she would help me make cookies. I didn’t see any harm in that.”

      “Ally, sit in the desk and don’t leave it!” Jack ordered.

      “She’s to sit there instead of having lunch? I think that’s rather severe punishment for a small child.”

      “Who asked you, lady? You’re not a mother. You’re a lawyer! It’s none of your business.”

      “I am too a mother! I know about—”

      “You are not! You have no kids!”

      “Yes, I do. I have six kids!” she yelled back, determined to win this argument.

      “You’re lying. Judge Robinson said you didn’t have any kids.”

      “Well, he’s wrong!”

      “So where are these six kids? The oldest couldn’t be more than twelve, if he’s that old!”

      “He’s

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