So he tugged a lock of her hair gently and said, “We’ll see the horses later, okay?”
“You shouldn’t promise her something you might not be able to deliver on,” Jillian warned. “She doesn’t forget a thing.”
He slanted his gaze to hers and locked on like a targeting system. “I always keep my promises.”
Her eyes said she didn’t believe him, and Jesse wondered what had made her so distrustful. Of course, the minute that thought entered his mind, he remembered why she was in Royal in the first place. A man had lied to her, used her and left her pregnant and alone. The kind of man who did that was no man at all to Jesse’s way of thinking. And if he ever found the bastard, he’d make sure the son of a bitch paid for the pain he’d put so many people through.
But was it just the impostor who’d put that wary look in Jillian’s eyes? Or was it more? And why did he give a flying damn?
He didn’t.
“Come on,” he said abruptly. “I’ll take you back to the motel. We’ll get your stuff.”
“Stuff!” Mac laughed at the new word, and Jillian smiled.
Jesse met her eyes and he watched as her smile faded. Probably best, he told himself. If that mouth of hers kept curving so temptingly, he wouldn’t be able to resist tasting it.
And then where would they be?
CHAPTER THREE
The Texas Cattleman’s Club was impressive. A large, rambling single-story building, it was built from dark wood and stone, and had a tall slate roof. It looked just as a Texas men’s club should look, Jillian thought. Historically, the TCC had been a rich man’s private retreat. But all of that started changing several years ago, according to Lucy. Women became members, then took positions on the board and slowly but surely began to drag the TCC into the twenty-first century—with, no doubt, its oldest members kicking and screaming the whole way.
But Jillian could understand why the men had fought to hold on to one of their last bastions. Yes, she was a feminist. But there were times she wanted to be around only women. So why wouldn’t men want the same thing occasionally?
Still, their loss was definitely her gain. One of the first things the female members of the club did was to open a day care center at the club. It was just to the left of the entrance in what had once been a billiards room. There were lots of windows and a set of French doors that opened out onto a shaded grassy area where the kids could play. The walls were white, but dotted with artwork provided by the children who spent the days there.
There were tiny tables and chairs and rugs in bright primary colors. Pint-sized easels were arranged on one side of the room where kids could paint and draw. Shelves filled with books and toys were neatly arranged along one wall. There was a small half kitchen with a fridge, a sink and a microwave that came in handy for preparing snacks and meals for the kids.
Ginger Hanks, about fifty with graying red hair, bright blue eyes and a knowing smile, was the manager, and there were two other women employed there, as well. If she got the job, Jillian would be the third helper, and as she was shown around, she realized she really did want the job.
She’d always loved kids, and being able to have her little girl with her while she was at work was a bonus she couldn’t even imagine.
“The number of children we have every day differs,” Ginger was saying as she led Lucy and Jillian around the room, taking a tour. “Sometimes it’s twenty, other days it’s five or six. Members of the club are welcome to leave their kids here while they use the facilities, or even if they’re going out to lunch or shopping or something. We also have a few children who are here every day while their parents work.”
“It’s a great place,” Jillian said and earned a wide smile of approval from Ginger.
“Thank you, we think so.” Ginger bent down to scoop up a crying baby from one of the cribs pushed against the wall. The instant she did, the infant stopped crying. “Of course, you have to love children to work here.”
“Oh, I do. I have a nearly two-year-old myself,” she said and half wished she’d brought Mac with her. But a job interview hadn’t seemed the right time to bring her daughter, so she’d left Mac at the Sanders ranch with Lucy’s mother.
“Lucy told me, and you’re welcome to bring her to work with you.” Ginger looked around at the kids coloring, doing their numbers and letters, playing with dolls or trains.
“I told you,” Lucy said, nudging Jillian.
“That’s a relief to me.” Jillian held out her hands toward Ginger and asked, “May I?”
The older woman gave her a long look before nodding and handing the baby over. Jillian cuddled the baby boy close and began an instinctive side-to-side sway. Ginger gave another approving smile.