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  Addison tugged on his hand again. “Look at these cards,” Addison was saying. “Aren’t they pretty? Renee teaches people how to make them. She also does printing stuff. What do you think of it?”

  Tate obediently glanced at the cards lying on the table beside Mrs. Albertson. “Very pretty,” he said, not sure what else he was supposed to say about the colorful stacks of paper and glitter. “Now we should go.”

  “We could make some cards. Together.” Addison looked up at him, and must have sensed his hesitation. “Don’t you think that would be fun?”

  “That might not be your father’s idea of a good time,” a gentle but husky voice spoke out behind him.

  Tate was surprised at the imperceptible lift Renee’s sudden presence created.

  He turned to look at her as she came around the display of papers. Yesterday when she came to his office she wore her hair pulled back, a suit jacket, tailored shirt and pencil skirt, which, combined with her somewhat-reserved attitude, had given her an aloof air. She looked all business.

  Today she wore a pink shirt, blue jeans and sandals. Her light brown hair was loose, falling around her heart-shaped face.

  Today she looked softer, more feminine. More appealing.

  He brushed aside his reaction. He was in no place emotionally to allow another person into his and Addison’s lives. He pulled his attention back to his daughter.

  “Where is Blythe?” Tate asked.

  Renee waved a slender hand. “I was showing her some accents she could use on her scrapbook. I’ll go find her.”

  As she spoke, Blythe appeared from behind the rack of paper, staring down at a package, as if reading the contents. Her dark hair stuck up in gelled spikes glistening in the overhead lights of the store, at odds with the plaid schoolgirl skirt and slouchy sweater she wore today. “Hey, sweetie, there you are,” she said, glancing over at Addison. “We should go. Don’t want your dad to...”

  Her voice trailed off as she caught sight of Tate. “Hey, Mr. Truscott,” she said with an airy wave. “Did you get my message?”

  Tate was momentarily taken aback. “What message?”

  “That Addison and I would be late today.” Blythe gave him a tentative smile. “I called your cell phone and left a message. Every time we walk by this store, Addison wants to stop in, and today I said it was okay as long as it was okay with you. And then you didn’t call back and we were coming past and Addison was pulling at my hand—”

  “It’s okay,” he said, stopping her midgush. “Everything is fine.”

  It wasn’t really, but he wasn’t getting into a discussion about Blythe’s responsibilities in front of strangers or the fact that he didn’t think to check his messages before imagining his daughter either lying injured on the street or in the hospital. He turned back to Addison, who was leaning against Mrs. Albertson’s wheelchair. The sight of the little girl and the older woman caught at his heart. His own mother had died when he was young, and Molly’s mother and father lived overseas. Addison didn’t have a grandmother in her life.

  “We should go, honey. I need to get back to work,” Tate told his daughter. “And I’m sure Renee and Mrs. Albertson have their own things to do.”

  “Okay. I’ll go.” Addison cast a wistful glance around the colorful store as if comparing it to her father’s dull office, then heaved a long-suffering sigh and trudged past Blythe out the store.

  Tate hesitated a moment, and without knowing why, looked back at Renee and her mom, Brenda.

  Renee was watching Addison, her arms crossed over her chest, a curious mixture of fear and sorrow on her face. Then she turned her head, and as their eyes met, he felt it again. A connection. An awareness.

  Then she turned and the moment faded away.

  You’re a widower with a daughter who is still grieving, he reminded himself. You don’t need the mess of another relationship.

  And definitely not someone like Renee, who, it seemed, had her own priorities.

  Chapter Two

  “Sure, Tate Truscott is good-looking—I won’t argue that.” Renee took another sip of her coffee and sat back in the soft leather chair tucked in a back room of Shelf Awareness, Evangeline’s bookstore. “But I’m not interested.”

  She looked around the room, allowing the ambience of the store to wash away the stress of the day. She had tried to contact Benny and Freddy but it seemed neither wanted to talk to her. She’d had to keep her frustration stifled because her mother, with her radar senses, would guess something was wrong and then she’d stress.

  But for now she tried to relax at the room in the shop dedicated to book club.

  The walls were lined with shelves filled with Evangeline’s personal library. Evangeline lived above the shop in a small apartment that couldn’t begin to hold all the books she owned so she had put many down here.

  Leather recliners, worn-fabric occasional chairs and a long, low-slung couch were scattered through the room, creating a welcoming and eclectic atmosphere. Bright paintings, done by local schoolchildren, hung on the one wall that wasn’t taken up with shelves.

  Twice a month on Tuesdays, Evangeline, Mia Verbeek, Renee, Amy and a variety of other women met in this room to discuss a book chosen by one of the members. The discussion was often lively, as the main members of the book club had varying tastes in books.

  “Why wouldn’t you be interested in Tate Truscott?” Evangeline asked, lowering herself into the armchair across from Renee, her long skirt draping artfully over her legs. She swept her wavy brown hair back from her face and secured it with an elastic, enhancing her delicate features. “He’s handsome, eligible and elegant. I’m trying to imagine him in a cutaway and cravat. Absolutely perfect.” Evangeline sighed dramatically, obviously very taken with Mr. Truscott herself.

  “I think it’s time you return to the real world and get your nose out of your Regency novels,” Renee said with a faint snort, wishing her friend would get off the topic of Tate Truscott. “As for eligibility, he’s a recent widower, and he has a little girl. I’m sure he’s not looking to date. And I’ve got my mother and all the responsibilities that come with her.”

  Evangeline frowned at that and Renee felt immediately guilty.

  “I don’t mean to say that I resent them.”

  “I know you don’t,” Evangeline said. “No one would ever think that. But wouldn’t it be nice to indulge in a little romance?”

  “There’s no such thing as a little romance,” Renee said, smiling at her friend despite her own feelings on the matter. “Not between someone who had a daughter and someone who is moving away as soon as she can sell her store.”

  “I know, but he’s so good looking.”

  Renee tried to ignore her friend by paging through a book lying on the table beside her.

  Tate had been taking up too much space in her mind as it was. He and his little girl. She was surprised at the pain she felt when she saw the little girl. Addison was too glaring a reminder of what she had given up all those years ago.

  “Doesn’t he even appeal a little?”

  Renee wished Evangeline would stop. She had her own struggles with love and romance. “Even if he does, like I said, I live in the real world.”

  “The real world? Like what’s in those depressing highbrow novels you read?” Evangeline kicked off her sandals and tucked her feet under her skirt. “I’ll stick with my happy-ever-afters, thank you very much.”

  “But my books generate the best discussions,” Renee returned, just as the door behind them opened again.

  Renee saw Mia enter through the store’s back entrance.

  “That’s because everyone wants to talk about how much they hated them,” Mia said as she set her book bag down on the small table in the middle of the room and hung her jacket up on the hooks just inside the door. She shoved her hands through her short-cropped black hair and blew out a sigh. She poured herself a cup of coffee from the carafe on the table behind Renee and dropped onto the empty couch across fro
m Renee and Evangeline. Taking a sip of coffee, she leaned back and closed her eyes. “Ah. Bliss. I’ve been clinging to the promise of this moment for the past ten hours.”

  “Busy day in the flower shop?” Renee asked, feeling sympathy for her friend. Mia was a single mother of four children and ran the flower shop full-time. Renee, who only had her mother to take care of, couldn’t imagine how Mia managed.

  “The flower shop is the easiest part of my life,” Mia said, nudging her running shoes off her feet and wiggling her toes. “It’s the boys who are wearing me down, not the twins. Thank goodness Blythe came early today to help me out. She got another babysitting job so I hope she doesn’t bail on me. I need that girl in my life.” She sighed, rolled her shoulders and looked around. “No one else coming tonight?”

  “I don’t know about April, Amy or Emily, but Jennie is coming. Though she said she didn’t care for the book we had to read,” Evangeline said, casting an arch look Renee’s way.

  “Told you,” Mia said with a curt nod. “Depressing.”

  Renee was about to challenge her opinion, when Evangeline spoke up. “Renee finally met Tate Truscott.”

  Mia lifted one eyebrow and nodded. “What did you think?”

  “Why is everyone making a fuss about this guy?” Renee tried not to sound peeved.

  “Single. Good-looking. What’s not to fuss about,” Evangeline said with a gleam in her eye.

  “I’m not in the market,” Renee retorted.

  “You haven’t been in the market since Ted,” Evangeline said.

  “Ted didn’t count.” Mia waved Renee’s previous boyfriend off with a flick of her hand, as if getting rid of a pesky fly. “Nor did Kent or Scott. None of them lasted longer than four months.”

  That was because none of them could handle the reality that Renee’s mother was part of the deal. And once Renee had found out about the new therapy plan available for her mother in Vancouver, she hadn’t bothered getting involved with anyone else. Why get involved with anyone when she was leaving as soon as she could.

  “Dwight was your last serious boyfriend,” Evangeline murmured. “And that was over nine years ago.”

  “Are we still talking about him?” Renee shot Evangeline a warning look. “That guy is more historical than your books.”

  “Sorry,” Evangeline said. “I just thought of him because I saw his mother in town yesterday. She told me he was married and living in Australia. I didn’t think he’d ever settle down.”

  “Neither did I,” Renee said.

  Renee had buried that part of her past long ago. She and Dwight had dated all through high school, much to her parents’ chagrin. Dwight was bad news and she knew it. But he was popular and was invited to all the best parties. When her father died, at the beginning of their first year of college, Renee’s mother was lost in her own grief, and Renee drowned herself in a lifestyle full of drinking and partying. And Dwight.

  The consequences of those mistakes were still affecting her and her mother’s life. She preferred to keep Dwight and any memories of him buried deep.

  “You were well rid of him when he decided to hightail it out of here,” Mia said.

  “Trust me, I’m not pining for Dwight—or any man,” Renee said. “I’ve got enough going on in my life right now.”

  “You’re probably right to avoid Tate anyway,” Mia said, taking a sip of her coffee. “I heard that Kerry at Mug Shots tried to set him up with someone, but he told her flat out he wasn’t interested, and then he turned down a date with Tiffany Newton.”

  “I’m sure Renee could make him change his mind,” Evangeline said. “You’re way better looking than Tiffany.”

  “So what did you all think of the book?” Renee asked, bringing the subject back to the book club and away from romantic entanglements.

  “I think I’d like to talk about why I saw Tate Truscott come to your store today,” Evangeline said, shooting Renee an arch glance over the top of her coffee mug. “I don’t think he was there to make cards or a scrapbook. Though he could have been there to order some brochures for the office. Hmmm...”

  “He came to pick up his daughter,” Renee retorted, cutting off Evangeline’s romantic wanderings. “She stopped by the store with Blythe. And that’s the only reason he came.”

  When the words left her mouth, she regretted it. She should have simply smiled, nodded and moved on.

  Evangeline gave her a cheeky grin and looked as if she was about to say more, but thankfully was interrupted when the door opened again.

  Jennie Bond entered with Sophie Brouwer, the two chattering away like the good friends they were.

  Jennie lowered herself into a chair beside Renee and heaved out a sigh. “Busy day today,” she said as if to explain why she was late.

  “Were you helping in school again?” Renee asked as Jennie pulled out her book from the bag she had taken along.

  “The teacher asked me to read with a little girl who just moved here,” Jennie replied, adjusting her glasses. Though Jennie was past retirement age, she occasionally helped at the school. Her granddaughter, Hailey, was a teacher there and often asked her to come. “Her name is Addison Truscott. Poor thing’s still grieving the death of her mother.”

  Renee wished her heart didn’t beat so hard at the mention of Addison. The little girl created a storm of feelings she didn’t know how to navigate. Longing, pain and sorrow. Each created a tug that drew her to the girl one moment and made her want to push her away in another.

  “Everything okay?” Mia asked, laying her hand on Renee’s arm. “You look upset.”

  Renee jerked her attention back to her friend and waved off her concern. “No, I’m sorry. Just got lots on my mind.”

  “I imagine you do,” Mia said. “What with trying to sell the store and your mother’s treatment plan. Lots to deal with.”

  Renee nodded. “More than enough. I don’t have any room for anything else in my life,” she said with a warning tone. She didn’t want to talk about Tate, and she especially didn’t want to talk about his daughter. Thankfully, she wouldn’t be seeing too much of them anytime soon.

  “Can I ask you a question, Daddy?”

  Tate finished up the sentence he was typing out then glanced at Addison, sitting in one corner of his office, drawing. “Sure, honey, what is it?”

  Addison sat, elbows planted on her table, swinging her feet. Crayons and papers lay strewn about her, imitating the mess spread out over his desk. “My one friend isn’t being very nice to me and I was trying so hard to be nice to her.”

  “Which friend is this?” Tate made himself turn away from the computer to give his daughter his full attention, trying not to let his work pull at him. While Blythe was able to pick Addison up from school she wasn’t able to watch her every day. So Addison would come and sit in the office and watch shows on her iPad or draw and color.

  “Talia. She’s usually lots of fun and she said she’s my best friend. But yesterday I wanted her to work with me on my Math Facts but she went to work with Natasha instead. I don’t think I like her anymore.”

  Tate fought down an immediate reprimand. Addison needed a listening ear right now.

  “Did you try to ask her why she didn’t want to work with you?”

  “I wanted to but Talia said she had to help Natasha.” Addison frowned at him, as if he was being deliberately obtuse. “I think she’s being mean to me. I think she doesn’t want to be my friend anymore.”

  Tate wasn’t sure what to say or how to navigate this territory. Truth to tell, he had been so busy building his law practice that the bulk of Addison’s upbringing had been taken care of by his wife.

  Maybe that’s why she was unfaithful?

  Tate fought down the accusing voice. He always tried to be home by suppertime, making sure he was around to put Addison to bed.

  “Honey, sometimes there are things going on in people’s lives that we don’t know about,” he said, trying to find a diplomatic way to let her know
he cared but also not to take things so personally. “Maybe she’s not being mean to you, maybe the teacher asked her to help Talia.”

  Addison seemed to consider this then shrugged. “Maybe,” she said, then pushed her crayons aside. “And right now, I’m bored. I don’t like being in the office so long.”

  “I know, honey. Give me another hour and then we can go.”

  “Another hour?” she whined.

  Tate glanced at the file, then at the clock. His father was always reminding him that right now Addison should be his priority. But Tate still wanted to pull his share of the workload. He had just come here and wanted to prove himself, so to speak. “Okay, maybe half an hour, then we can leave for the ranch.”

  “I don’t want to go to the ranch.”

  “You haven’t seen the horses since we dropped them off last week,” he said. “What else would you want to do?”

  “I don’t know.” She sighed again, and Tate shot her a concerned look. Ever since Molly died Addison had been drifting along, a lifeless little shell of a girl, not excited or enthusiastic about anything.

  He thought moving to Rockyview to be close to his father as well as having the horses closer would help lift her out of her funk. And it had, for a while, but she’d drifted back into the same lethargy that had gripped her since he and Addison had walked away from Molly’s grave.

  In fact, the only time he’d seen Addison excited about anything was yesterday at Renee Albertson’s store.

  “Do you want to go out for dinner tonight?” he pressed. “We could go to the Dairy Queen. Peanut-buster parfaits?”

  “I miss my mommy,” she said, her voice wobbling.

  Sorrow gathered in his chest at his daughter’s plaintive words. Ever since Molly’s death, his entire focus had been the well-being of his precious daughter. He had stayed in Toronto so she could finish school. Had put off moving here so she could work through her grief.

  She was the reason he’d given up his huge salary at a prestigious firm and moved here to join his father’s law firm once he thought enough time had elapsed. He wanted to give Addison the family she never had during his and Molly’s shaky marriage.