His eyes slammed into her. “I don’t like it.”
The raw frustration in his voice was so sincere Tandy stopped the smile his words stirred up. Pearl wasn’t the only one who needed comfort. Click looked like his last nerve was stretched taut. Her defection probably hadn’t helped. She kept rocking and humming, trying to think of a way to break the thickening silence. How could she undo what she’d done? But words wouldn’t come.
“She asleep?” Click asked, his voice low and soothing—for Pearl.
Tandy peered down at Pearl, her warm cheek pressed against her chest and her breathing even and deep. “I think so.”
“I can put her down.” His words were hard. “You can go.”
He spoke without malice—but it hurt all the same. “I can do it. I don’t want to wake her.” She didn’t want to go. She didn’t want to move. As sorry as she was that Pearl was sick, she’d ached for the sweet weight of this little girl in her arms. She wasn’t in a rush to give her up or leave him.
He nodded, stiff. “Okay.” The word hitched, forcing her to look at him.
The sorrow and yearning on his face mirrored her own. Her heart shuddered, reminding her how irrevocably she was tied to him. Risky or no, there was no way she could walk away from this man. Not really. She had to find the courage and strength to fix this. “Click. I need to talk to you.”
He cleared his throat, the muscle in his jaw working. He opened his mouth, then clamped it shut. “Okay.”
Headlights bounced off the far wall, momentarily blinding them.
His gaze traveled over her face before he nodded. “Give me a second. Not expecting anyone. Unless Delgado sent some more men out,” he murmured, pushing through the front door. He caught it at the last minute, before it could bounce of the wall and disturb Pearl.
Because that’s the way Click was—thoughtful and caring.
She pressed a kiss to Pearl’s temple. “I’m an idiot, Pearl. An idiot.” Tears stung her eyes. How had she let the fear of what might happen steal her happiness? Life wasn’t always easy or fair, but she had Click. She had love. Real love.
She stood, causing Pearl to jolt awake.
“Sorry, snuggle bunny,” she whispered.
Pearl rested her head and patted Tandy’s chest. “Da da?”
“Let’s go find him. You can give him night-night kisses. Okay?”
Pearl nodded.
But finding Click talking to a fair-haired woman was unexpected. Click’s posture was telling, but the flash of panic on his face when he saw her—saw Pearl—told Tandy exactly what she needed to know. Click wasn’t talking to a potential employee.
This had to be Georgia Miles. Pearl’s mother.
* * *
“I SHOULD HAVE left a message,” Georgia said again. “I didn’t know what to say. You know?”
He knew exactly what she meant. This whole situation left him speechless. He was scared—not wanting to lose his daughter or make a mistake with the woman who might try to take her from him. Click shrugged. “You’re here now.”
Pearl and Banshee walked along the fence line, without a care in the world. His daughter was too young to remember much. She’d hugged Georgia then toddled after Banshee—determined not to let her favorite four-legged pal out of her sight.
“I don’t think she remembers me,” Georgia said. “She’s walking so well. She started early, though. At nine months she was ready to go.”
Pearl stooped to pick up a stray chicken feather and held it out to Banshee. The dog sniffed it, then sneezed. Pearl’s laughter was a stark contrast to her earlier tantrum.
Click smiled at his daughter. “She’s always on the move, that’s for sure.”
Pearl let Banshee kiss her cheek.
“That dog is awful big,” Georgia said.
“And smart,” Click said. “He takes good care of her.”