He lifted his Stetson off his head, pushed the too-long strands of hair off his forehead, then settled the hat back down. “All right. I was going to let the foreman take care of things, but I suppose I can let you in and make sure you know where everything is.”

Her smile broadened. “Great.” Dusting her hands together, she turned to the door, then stopped. “Maybe you have something to do in town while I get ready? I won’t be but twenty minutes.”

He looked at his watch. The worn leather band was on its last leg. Maybe he ought to use the time to replace it. “Twenty minutes,” he said, and rounded the truck to the door.

By the time he’d climbed behind the wheel, Sara had already disappeared behind the ugly orange door. He couldn’t help but wonder why a pretty young girl like her was staying in a dumpy motel like this. Or why she needed a job cleaning other people’s houses.

Maybe she was a runaway. Just like his sister had been once upon a time. Sara had to be younger than Jenna. He turned the key in the ignition, his thoughts straying to his sister.

In some ways it seemed like only yesterday that he’d awakened at sunup to find a note from Jenna telling him she’d eloped. But she’d been seventeen then, and now she was sending her two daughters to spend Christmas with him while she honeymooned with her soon-to-be-third husband.

Ethan sighed heavily. What the hell was he going to do with a twelve-and six-year-old for ten days? It wasn’t that he didn’t like children, or that he wasn’t happy to see his nieces, but he obviously didn’t know beans about kids.

He’d tried his hardest to raise fourteen-year-old Jenna after their parents had died, but he’d clearly failed. She’d gone from a sweet-tempered, shy child to a headstrong hellion by the time she was sixteen. Of course he’d only been twenty himself at the time of the car accident, and totally clueless about the needs of a young teenage girl. The only thing he knew about was ranching. And Emily.

But Emily was dead now. And Ethan didn’t give a damn anymore about the ranch they’d built together. Sam took care of everything just fine.

There was a small jewelry and coin store right at the edge of town, so he parked the truck and went inside. He vaguely knew the owner, who was reading a comic book behind the counter, but fortunately not well enough to make small talk or to have to answer a lot of nosy questions. Other than that, no one else was around. Probably all home having supper.

The owner showed him a modest selection of watchbands from which to choose, then went back to reading his comic book. Ethan checked the time. He still had ten minutes.

He tried to concentrate on finding the most durable band, but his mind kept drifting to the girls’ arrival. Erika was the older one; he’d seen her only twice before, on the rare occasions when Jenna had remembered she still had family and had shown up at the ranch. Denise, the younger one, had to be about six. He’d never met her or her father.

His gut clenched at the thought that these two little girls were his own flesh and blood—the last of the Slade line. He and Emily had waited on having children. Foolishly, they’d counted on having a lifetime together.

He quickly chose a plain black leather band before his thoughts wandered to forbidden territory, then he pulled some money out of his pocket while the owner replaced the old band. Already twenty minutes had flown by, and damn if it wasn’t going to take Sara Conroy every spare minute to get the house in decent shape.

As he left the store, his thoughts strayed back to her. He sure hoped she was stronger than she looked. He wouldn’t be much help to her. The idea of going back to the house still made him uneasy. The idea of even Sara or his nieces entering the house and touching things didn’t sit well with him.

He forced a deep breath as he fished in his pocket for his keys. In a way, it was better Jenna had given him no notice. He didn’t have time to dread facing the ghosts or the memories.

Besides, he had enough to worry about, trying to figure out what to do with two kids.

He opened the truck’s door and froze.

Sara was already sitting in the cab. On her lap was a suitcase. Beside her was a freckled-faced little girl staring back at him.

“Who is this?”

Sara raised her brows in innocence, then looked down at the child who had plastered herself to Sara’s side. “You mean, Misty? She’s my daughter. Misty, say hi to Mr. Slade.”

Misty didn’t utter so much as a peep.

“Why is she sitting in my truck?”

Sara set a pair of headphones over Misty’s ears, then started the Baby Beluga tape she’d readied in the event Mr. Slade opposed her plan. “You didn’t expect me to leave her alone in the motel room, did you?”

“I didn’t expect her at all.” Ethan frowned at the suitcase. “What’s that for?”

“I wasn’t sure I’d get a ride back so I brought a few things in case we have to spend the night.” In fact, Sara was counting on it. She’d already checked out of the motel, hoping to save a couple of nights’ rent.

“You’re not spending the night.”

“But it makes sense.”

“Not to me.”

“Don’t you think you should get in? Standing on the sidewalk isn’t going to solve anything.”

Ethan climbed behind the wheel, his expression grim as he stared straight ahead. “You don’t understand.”

“Is it the owner? Do you think he’d have a problem with me staying in his house?”

“Possibly.”

Sara rubbed her left temple. She hadn’t considered that problem. But, of course, she was a stranger to this man, and whoever owned the house. “You said the owner doesn’t live there anymore, right?”

He nodded, slowly turning to look at her.

She gave him a bright smile. “Then surely there isn’t anything of value left in the house.”

His head jerked a little, almost as though she’d struck out at him.

“I only meant that he wouldn’t have to worry about me stealing anything.” Heat climbed her face, and she automatically slipped an arm around Misty. “Not that I’m a thief. But I am a stranger to you.”

He shook his head, and brought his troubled gaze to hers. “The thought never crossed my mind. What about you? Aren’t you concerned about me?”

She stared back at him, wondering what had made his eyes so sad. They were a warm shade of brown, a sort of milk chocolate color, but they lacked sparkle or expression. “I asked around about you.”

He seemed to tense, then looked straight ahead again.

That made her all the more curious. Neither of the two people besides Judy that she’d asked had had an unkind thing to say about Ethan Slade. In fact, they wouldn’t say much at all. Only that he was an honorable man, and she needn’t worry. She’d shoved her curiosity aside and asked no more questions. She wouldn’t ask him any either. She of all people knew the importance of privacy. Of keeping secrets.

“Shouldn’t we get moving before it gets too late?” she prompted, hoping he hadn’t changed his mind.

He stared in silence for another minute, and when he finally turned the key and started the engine, her breath slipped out in relief.

“Certain rooms will be off limits to both you and your daughter,” he said, without looking at her. “I’ll point them out as soon as we get there. About food for tonight and tomorrow morning…,” he slid her a look, and she was surprised to see concern in his eyes. “There may be a few canned goods, but nothing else. I can’t even be sure the refrigerator is still working.”

“No problem. We still have a jar of peanut butter and crackers and a couple of bananas. We’ll be fine.”

His concern gave way to curiosity, but he said nothing as he returned his attention to the road.

Sara used the lengthening silence to remind herself to say as little as possible. She didn’t need Ethan’s, or anyone else’s curiosity stirred. Cal had too many connections, knew too many people. If he decided he gave half a damn about either her or Misty, he might be inclined to search for them. Not that she thought he would suddenly discover love in his heart. He simply didn’t like losing…especially not what he considered his possessions.