Free Fielder's Choice by Pamela Aares

fingers. “You don’t have to be afraid of me.”
    “That’s what I told my dad,” she said with bravado. “I’m usually right. About people.”
    That the girl had discussed her with Matt gave Alana pause. That a six-year-old was sticking up for her character made her oddly uncomfortable. No, downright edgy.
    “So what note were you going to leave me?”
    As soon as Alana asked, she wished she hadn’t. Sophie cast her eyes down and stared at the carpet. But she didn’t let go of Alana’s hand.
    “It doesn’t matter now.”
    Alana flushed. Sophie had overheard her conversation with Marcel. Thank God it hadn’t been an R-rated one. But still, it hadn’t been a conversation for a child’s ears.
    “We’d better get you back to your dad; he’ll be worried.”
    Alana grabbed her suitcase and they tromped down the stairs. Isobel raised a brow as the two of them walked by her and out of the house. Matt was talking with Peg, who had her walkie-talkie out and was shouting instructions to the grounds crew.
    Alana dropped her suitcase in the drive and walked Sophie up to him. Damned if the man didn’t fire her up just by standing there. But his rigid stance and the alarm she saw in his eyes snapped her back from such thoughts.
    “Lose something?” Alana asked.
    “Sophie! For God’s sake, where the hell were you?” He bent and folded Sophie into his arms.
    “In my closet,” Alana answered for the obviously distressed Sophie.
    “Dad almost never says hell ,” Sophie said over Matt’s shoulder.
    “I’m sorry,” he said as he straightened and turned to her.
    Alana wasn’t sure if he was apologizing to Sophie or to her. Either was fine.
    “No problem. What are you doing here?” Alana asked. “There’s no tour today.”
    “We’re here for camp,” Sophie announced.
    “Camp?” Alana looked over to Peg.
    “We have four camps this summer,” Peg answered. “Today’s orientation day.”
    “For him too?”
    Alana’s smile was teasing, but part of her wished the fantasy flashing through her mind, of her and Matt Darrington camping under the stars, keeping warm by rolling around in a tent, could be real.
    “No, just kids.”
    “Ah well,” she said, giving Matt one of her best smiles, “something for next year.”
    He shifted his weight and though his eyes narrowed ever so slightly, he didn’t smile. Perhaps flirting wasn’t one of his skills. It made her like him all the more.
    “I thought you would be leading the camps,” Sophie said in a disappointed tone.
    “Miss Tavonesi owns the ranch,” Peg said in the sing-song voice that people used around children when they weren’t accustomed to them.
    Alana’s smile grew wider. Maybe she wasn’t the only one learning a thing or two.
    “But we have loads of great camp leaders,” Peg added in a placating tone. “You’ll see.”
    Matt released Sophie and stood, giving Alana the assessing gaze she’d noticed on the day they’d toured. The day he’d scooped her into his arms and saved her neck. The day he’d shocked a bolt of desire into her core in about two seconds flat.
    “Thank you,” he said.
    The intensity of his gaze sent waves of heat rippling in her. And yet a gentle earnestness hovered there too. The combination of hard-ass assessment layered with gentle concern had her belly doing little flips that weren’t helpful to her equilibrium. Nor to logical thought.
    “If you’re not leading the camps, maybe you could come to a game,” Sophie said. “We can invite her to a game, can’t we, Dad?” She tipped her face up to Alana. “You can see him play.”
    “I’m sure Miss Tavonesi has better things to do,” Matt said. Alana didn’t miss that he’d used the formal address. She was no longer ranch hand, she was owner. If Matt’s rigid stance was any clue, she was pretty sure she preferred being seen as a ranch hand.
    The limo pulled up near them, stirring a flurry of summer-heated dust.
    “Thank you, Sophie,” Alana said