Page 3 of Deacon (Men of Clifton, Montana #52)
She knew he was pissed, and he had every right to be. She’d made a big mistake by not telling him. Whether he was interested in knowing Ellie or not, he should have been given a choice whether to see her or not. It would have been his decision about seeing Ellie, not hers.
After making a cup of coffee, she sat at the kitchen table, toying with the mug. She was startled when he came back into the kitchen, lifted his hat from the peg, opened the door, stepped out, and slammed the door behind him. Without even glancing her way. Yep, he was pissed.
“Ava?”
Ava sighed and turned to face her father. “I know what you’re going to say, Dad.”
“Do you? How could you do that to him? He had a right to know he had a child.”
“I know. I guess I didn’t want him to feel obligated.”
“Bullshit. Any man who fathers a child should be obligated. Agent Anderson seemed visibly upset.”
“Yes, he did. I’ll talk with him once he cools down a little.”
“That could be a while. I think right now, he’s in shock.”
“Yeah. I’ll take Ellie home.”
“Alright, honey.”
Ava kissed his cheek, then went to get Ellie from her playpen.
After picking her up, she grabbed the diaper bag and walked out the door, across the yard, and to her little home she shared with her daughter behind the barn.
Thank God, her father had built her the home, and it was far enough away from the barn.
Cattle could smell bad, and she didn’t need to wake up every day smelling that, she thought with a smile.
She stepped inside her home and let the door thud shut behind her.
A rush of cool, conditioned air washed over her, and she drew in a long, relieved breath.
She set Ellie on the floor with her dolls then slid onto the deep–cushioned sofa, she pressed her temples with her fingertips and wondered what would happen now that Deacon Anderson knew her secret.
Her thoughts drifted back to their first meeting at the Montana Cattlemen’s Convention in Billings almost three years ago…
The exhibition hall had been alive with the low rumble of men in Stetsons swapping stories over stale coffee and folding–chair chatter.
She had scanned the crowded floor, then suddenly, there he was, tall, broad shouldered, moving with quiet assurance among the throng , stopping occasionally to talk with someone.
His honey-colored eyes caught hers; his thick, dark hair peeking out from under his hat.
Her pulse skittered as she watched him smile at the woman he was talking with.
She watched him say something to the woman, then excuse himself and cut through the cluster of onlookers.
He strode straight toward her, almost a head taller than most men there, boots clicking on the concrete floor. Women paused mid–conversation, visibly impressed by his presence. When he stopped in front of her, she felt warmth bloom in her cheeks.
“Hi,” he said, his voice smooth, a low drawl laced with Montana grit. The curve of his mouth made her throat go dry.
“Hi,” she replied, unable to hide her own grin.
“I’m Deacon Anderson, but everyone calls me, Deke,” he said, extending a strong, calloused hand. Up close, she saw the faint creases at the corners of his eyes and the way his dark stubble shadowed his square jaw.
She placed her hand in his, warm, steady, and thought she might never let go. “Ava Parsons. Nice to meet you, Deacon. So… you’re a cattleman?”
He grinned, and she felt her heartbeat echo in her ears. “No, ma’am. I’m an agent for the Montana Department of Livestock.”
“I’m from Maple Ridge, Montana,” she said. “What’s MDOL doing here?”
“Working a case,” he replied, eyes bright. “Maple Ridge, huh? I live in Clifton.”
“I’ve never been there,” she admitted.
“Maybe you should visit,” he suggested, one eyebrow lifting.
Ava laughed, the sound light among the hum of voices. “Maybe I will. So… a case. Do you know who you’re after?”
His gaze darkened just a fraction. “I do. ”
“And that’s all you’ll say?” she pressed, tilting her head.
He gave a small, conspiratorial grin. “About that, yes.”
She nodded, intrigued. “I definitely understand.”
Deacon glanced at the bar. “Can I get you another drink?”
“No, but thank you. I’m heading up to relax.” She brushed a strand of hair behind her ear. “I’ve been on the go all day.”
“Same here. How about dinner in the hotel restaurant later?”
Ava’s lips curved. “I’d like that. You’re not… married or anything, right?”
He chuckled. “No, ma’am. You?”
“Divorced for five years, and single.”
“Good,” he said, relief softening his expression. “Seven o’clock? Or is that too late?”
“Perfect.” She tucked her purse under her arm. “I’ll meet you there.”
“Looking forward to it,” he said, as he melted back into the crowd.
Ava turned for the elevators but couldn’t resist glancing over her shoulder. He stood watching, a slow grin lifting his lips as he touched the brim of his hat in farewell. Her chest tightened with anticipation. She couldn’t wait to see him again.