Read Online Wolf Creek Father (Wolf Creek, Arkansas Book 3) by Penny Richards - Free Book Online Page A

thing she wanted was for Colt Garrett to feel sorry for her.
    “I do, actually,” she told him. “It’s something I seldom talk about.”
    He nodded in understanding and returned his attention to his breakfast, ending that line of conversation.
    Allison spoke up, her voice once again professional. “At least what you’ve told me has given me some ideas. I think we should work on involving Cilla in activities that will make her feel as if she has more in common with girls her age. Of course, it will be up to her to decide which pursuits she’d like to try.” Her forehead wrinkled in thought. “I can check to see if Hattie has room for any new piano students.”
    “She might like that,” Colt said with a nod.
    “As for sewing and such, it so happens that I am quite an accomplished seamstress. In fact, I make all my clothes. But I fear my other handwork is passable at best. My sister Belinda does beautiful embroidery and petit point, and Ellie is quite good herself. I tend to attack it,” she added, almost as an afterthought.
    “Attack it?”
    A memory surfaced, and, their earlier tiff forgotten, her lips curved and her smiling gaze met his. “My mother used to tell me that I wasn’t supposed to go at it like I was killing snakes, that it was designed to be a pleasurable ladies’ pursuit, but once I start a piece, all I can think of is how soon I can finish.”
    Colt’s gaze clung to hers a moment longer before he began to saw at a piece of ham with unusual fervor. Like her earlier giggle, the smile did amazing things to her appearance. They ate in silence for several moments...an awkward silence, to be sure.
    Allison used her last bite of toast to mop up the rich yellow yolk on her plate. Colt forked up a bite of biscuit, swirled it through some milk gravy and popped it into his mouth, leaving a tiny smudge clinging to the corner of his upper lip. Before she realized what she was going to do, she reached out, leaned across the table and wiped at the smear with her napkin.
    Warm, calloused fingers circled her wrist.
    She gasped, mortified by her spontaneous action, excited by the feel of his fingers against her skin.
    “I...I’m so sorry,” she apologized in a whisper, aware that the pulse in her wrist was throbbing wildly beneath his thumb. “It’s just such a...natural thing for me to wipe tears and runny noses and...” Her voice trailed away and her gaze fell from his to the sugar bowl sitting in the center of the table. “I’m sorry.”
    “No apology necessary,” he said, releasing his hold on her as if she’d become hot to touch. Changing the topic, he said, “I appreciate your time and your input, Miss Grainger. When do you suggest that we put our plans into motion?”
    She squared her shoulders. “Well, July is more than half gone, and Labor Day will be here before we know it, so the sooner the better if we hope to make enough progress before then to keep our positions. I’ll try to get some letters off today and I’ll speak to Hattie, as well.”
    A thoughtful expression filled her eyes. “Cilla is at a precarious age—no longer a little girl and not yet a young lady. Her emotions are all a jumble.”
    Colt blew out a breath. “You’re right about that. Some days it’s like she’s all grown up and others, she bursts into tears over nothing.”
    “I recall those years as being quite vexing, as I believe most young girls do, but now that we both have a better grasp of the problem, I believe we’ll work through this.”
    Though he wasn’t happy at the prospect, he said, “I’ll do my best, but you may have to spell things out for me.” He stood, reaching into his pocket for some money. “I’ll catch up with you later today or tomorrow,” he said. “Or feel free to stop by the jail to talk over any ideas or suggestions if you’re over that way.”
    “Thank you. I will. And thank you for the breakfast.”
    * * *
    After Allison hugged her sister and niece goodbye, she and Colt