Daddy's Little Matchmaker by Fox Roz Denny

Author:Fox, Roz Denny [Fox, Roz Denny]
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Tags: Romance
ISBN: 9780373712205
Publisher: Harlequin
Published: 2004-01-01T16:00:00+00:00

“I didn’t have time to train a new pup, and…your mother, well, she…was never too wild about dogs.”

“We could get one now.”

Alan should’ve seen that sneak attack coming, but he hadn’t. “It’s not just up to us. Nana has a say. Look, here’s the pet aisle. Let’s see what they have.”

Louemma finally settled on a soft rubber bone that had a bell in one end and a squeaker in the other. It took her so long to decide, Alan thought they might be late for her lesson. On their way to the checkout, Louemma saw a display of African violets. “Stop, Daddy! Ms. Ashline loves flowers. Those ruffled white ones with the pink centers are beautiful. Can we buy them? The other day Brenna showed Jenny and me a vase on the windowsill above Ms. Ashline’s loom. Her flowers were wilted. Buy her these, Daddy, ’cause they’re in a pot and they won’t get all yucky.”

“Honey, it’s one thing to take Dog a toy. A gift for your teacher—well, she might get the wrong idea.”

“How? I don’t understand. She likes flowers, and hers died.”

Sighing, Alan added the small green pot to their purchase. Some rituals of the type that went on between men and women he’d rather not try explaining to a nine-year-old.

They were only marginally late, for which Alan was glad. He passed Brenna’s mom on the gravel road a half mile from Laurel’s cottage. He wouldn’t have liked that chatty woman to see him carrying a potted plant to a single, and therefore eligible lady. Gossip again. Lord, Alan hated those wagging tongues. In small towns, though, gossip was like the lifeblood.

Seconds after Alan had pushed the wheelchair across the threshold into the loom cottage, the violet pot wedged on one side of his daughter and Dog’s toy on the other, he rushed to assure Laurel that both gifts were from Louemma. After all, he remembered the fate of the fruit basket Vestal had sent in his name.

“For me?” Laurel knelt and wrapped her arms around the child. “You shouldn’t have, sweetheart. But they’re gorgeous. I have the very spot for violets. Where I can see them whenever I work.” Standing on tiptoe, she stretched to place the pot on the ledge above her loom.

“See, Daddy?” Louemma said smugly. “That’s where me, Jenny and Brenna saw her dead roses.”

Laurel froze, then dropped slowly back on her heels. Had Alan, too, noticed how long she’d kept his vase with the three rosebuds? If so, he said nothing to rub it in.

“Shall we get started?” Laurel said brightly. “Half an hour will go by fast.”

“Where’s Dog?” The child seemed upset when she didn’t see him.

“Oh, I left him at my house after Jenny and Brenna’s class. Dog generally eats about this time and I didn’t want to interrupt your lesson to go feed him.”

“I brought him a toy bone,” Louemma said excitedly. “ I want to give it to him.”

Laurel opened her mouth to suggest waiting until after the lesson.

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