A Family For Tory And A Mother For Cindy - Margaret Daley Mills & Boon Love Inspired

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      A smile curved his mouth. “I’d like that.” He started to say something else but stopped before the first word was out.

      “I don’t have an answer, if that’s what you want to know.”

      “I figured as much. Did you get any sleep last night?”

      She gestured toward her face, sure the circles under her eyes were still evident. “What do you think?”

      “No. Neither did I.”

      “So, I should probably have an answer soon if either one of us wants to get any sleep?”

      “Yep, that about sums it up.”

      His crooked grin melted any defenses she had automatically erected. She pushed away from the post and rolled her shoulders. “I’m not as young as I used to be. There was a time I could stay up all night and keep going strong the next day. That’s not the case anymore. I’m hoping Mindy will want to take a nap later this afternoon.”

      “Since she was up bright and early this morning, I’d say she probably will. She was so excited to be coming out here and not having to stay with Mrs. Davies.”

      “I’m glad.” She started past Slade, making her way toward the barn. “Why don’t you let her spend the night? Bring some clothes for her this evening, and when she goes to sleep, you and I can have a talk.” She hadn’t realized until the words were out of her mouth that she would give Slade an answer that evening. But she would. Now she just had to figure out what that answer would be.

      “Then I’ll swing by the house and pick up some of Mindy’s clothes.” Slade stopped at his car and opened the door, throwing Tory a heart-stopping look.

      From the entrance into the barn Tory watched Mindy’s father drive away, her time running out. Twelve hours to go.

      “Tor-ee, can—I ride?”

      She turned toward the little girl standing in the middle of the barn. “Sure, just as soon as I finish mucking out two stalls.”

      “I’ll—help.”

      “I was counting on that.” Tory approached Mindy and clasped her on the shoulder.

      The little girl threw her arms around Tory’s waist. “I’m—so glad—no—Mrs. Davies. Thank—you.”

      “You’re welcome.” Tory leaned back, staring down at Mindy. This child was the reason the answer wasn’t a simple no.

      “I’m—a good—uh—helper.” Mindy puffed out her chest. “You—need—help.”

      “I tell you what. I need to feed the cat and her kittens. Can you do that for me while I take care of the last two stalls?”

      “Sure.” Mindy’s blue eyes gleamed, big and round.

      “You know where their food is?”

      The girl nodded.

      “I’ll come get you then when I’m through.”

      Mindy started for the tack room while Tory hurried toward the last stall on the left. Twenty minutes later, her muscles shaking with fatigue, Tory went in search of Mindy. She heard the child before she saw her. Mindy was outside the back entrance, talking to the kittens.

      She held one in her lap, stroking it and saying, “Maybe—I’ll—get to—stay—here. I see—you—every—day. Wouldn’t—that be—nice?” The child buried her face in the kitten’s fur, rubbing it back and forth across her cheek. “Tor-ee—needs—me.”

      Tory’s throat jammed with emotions of love. She did need Mindy. More than she realized. Tory closed her eyes for a few seconds. Thank you, Lord, for showing me the answer.

      Swallowing several times, Tory stepped from the shadows into the light. “Are you ready to ride, Mindy?”

      Dusk blanketed the farm, cooling the air slightly. The dark clouds to the south hinted at a chance of rain. Crickets trilled and frogs croaked. Tory brushed a stray strand of hair, fallen from her ponytail, behind her ear. Taking a deep breath, she relished the scents of grass and earth that mingled with the fragrance of the honeysuckle she’d planted along the fence to the west.

      She needed to paint the fences, the barn and the house. Each year more of the white flaked off and yet she neither had the time nor the money to do that. There weren’t enough hours in the day.

      The screen door banged closed behind her. The sound of even footsteps approached her. She remained by the porch railing, her fingers grasping it a little tighter.

      “I finally got Mindy to go to sleep. All she wanted to talk about was the kittens and Belle. She told me when she grows up she wants to work with animals like you, Tory.” Next to her Slade settled himself back against the railing, his arms folded over his chest, and faced her. “See what kind of influence you have on Mindy?”

      She looked away from the intensity in his gaze, warmed by his compliment and a bit afraid she could never live up to what Mindy needed. “It’s going to rain tonight. How is Mindy in a thunderstorm?”

      “Fine. Unless the thunder gets too loud.”

      “I love rain. A good storm cleanses the earth.”

      “So long as it doesn’t set in for days at a time.”

      Tory turned away from the yard and half sat, half leaned on the railing next to Slade, their arms almost touching. “Rain is important to a farmer.”

      “How long are we going to discuss the weather before we talk about what I asked you last night?”

      She slanted a look toward him, her head cocked. “Impatient?”

      “Yes, I was patient all the way through that delicious dinner. How did you know I love pot roast?”

      “Mindy mentioned it to me.”

      “I guess I’m a meat-and-potatoes kind of guy.”

      She suspected he was as nervous as she was about their impending discussion. “Also, according to your daughter, a dessert kind of guy, too.”

      “Is that why we had blackberry cobbler?”

      “Yes.”

      “Did you and Mindy make that today?”

      “Yes, but the ice cream was store-bought. I only have so much time to cook.”

      “But you enjoy cooking?”

      “Yes. I wish I had more time to do that.”

      “Which brings me to why I am here. I can give you more time to do those kinds of things. Will you marry me, Tory Alexander?”

      The question hovered between them, its implication vibrating the air as though a hundred hummingbird wings beat against each other. She took a deep, fortifying breath and opened her mouth to reply. No words would come out. They lodged in her throat. Swallowing several times, she tried again. “First, we should talk about—” Still she couldn’t say what she needed to.

      “About what?”

      The mere thought flamed her cheeks. She palmed them, feeling the searing heat. “What kind of marriage will we have?”

      A dawning light shone in his eyes. “Do you mean, will we have a real marriage in every sense of the word?”

      Her heart paused in its frantic beating, then resumed its crash against her chest. Its thundering roar in her ears drowned out all other sounds. Perspiration beaded on her forehead. “Yes,” she finally said in a voice stronger than she thought possible.

      He shifted so he fully faced her. “I hope so, but, Tory, you will call the shots. It will be up to you.”

      She veiled her expression. She could accept those terms, but could he? What if she couldn’t ever take that

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