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A feat Stephanie had tried unsuccessfully to learn. How did he do it? “Are you looking for a new job?” She tried to offer the question as a joke, but he stared back at her with no evident humor.

“When are you going to come back home and take your rightful place?”

“My… what? I haven’t lived with you and Mom for several years.” She’d had her own tiny apartment for a while before moving into Harper’s house when they first became friends.

“The bank.” He leaned closer. “It’s a far more respectable profession than nannying at a dude ranch.”

Stephanie wasn’t about to tell him how much better Walter was paying her. Hadn’t she just decided life wasn’t all about money? Not that having some hurt, to say nothing of how easy it was to save her paychecks without all the distractions of shopping and eating out with friends like she’d had in town.

“Can I help you, sir?” Tate’s voice came from behind Stephanie’s shoulder.

She nearly sank back against him, but that would never do.

“I’m Stephanie’s father. And who are you?” Dad’s fierce gaze would have made a lesser man quake.

“I’m pleased to meet you. I’m Tate Sullivan. Stephanie is my nephew’s nanny.” His hand stretched past Stephanie. “We’re so grateful to have her.”

“Jack Simpson.” Dad gripped Tate’s hand.

Looked like a bit of a power struggle going on there. Stephanie bit her lip. Should she try to intervene? And did she want to rock the boat even further by declaring more than Tate had? He was probably unsure what she wanted her parents to know.

Everything. Well, almost everything. Maybe not the details of how they’d met in Butte a few weeks ago.

She twined her fingers with Tate’s free hand, leaving enough space between them that Dad couldn’t miss the gesture. His gaze narrowed when he noticed.

“Tate and I are dating, Dad.” Or whatever counted for dating since they hadn’t left the ranch and were rarely without their toddler chaperone. “Tate’s amazing. I know you and Mom will love him.”

“Dating? You hardly know him!”

“That’s what dating is for, sir.” Tate’s hand warmed in her own. “To get to know each other. And I must say, your daughter is a gem. I’m so thankful to have met her.” He smiled down at her.

Stephanie beamed back. This wasn’t too over the top, was it? No, she and Tate had done much more than smile at each other.

“Well, it must be convenient to be hidden away at Sweet River, then.”

“Pardon me, sir?” Tate’s back straightened as he turned back to her father.

“You know.” Dad’s finger toggled between Tate and Stephanie. “No one to keep an eye on you and keep things on the straight and narrow.”

“Maybe God is enough of a chaperone?” Stephanie suggested, trying to keep her voice from dipping too far into the saccharine levels.

“I don’t know. You tell me. Is He?”

“Sir, I’m not sure why you don’t trust your own daughter to behave as you’ve obviously raised her. But I haven’t taken advantage of her, nor has she taken advantage of me. We’re committed to seeking God’s will in our relationship.”

By the look on Dad’s face, he wasn’t completely convinced. Could this be any more embarrassing, having her father all but call her a tramp in front of the man she loved?

Wait. She loved him? This wasn’t just attraction or infatuation?

No. It wasn’t. It was more.

“I love Tate, Dad.”

“And I love Stephanie, Mr. Simpson.” Tate’s fingers clenched hers so tightly she feared they’d fall off.

A squeal came from the next table over. Before Stephanie knew what had hit her, Maribel had jumped in front of them and was squishing them both in her arms, babbling all the while.

What now?