Falling for Her Boss

Tessa smiled, not minding the repetition. “Yes. Lots. You’ll have a good time.”

“Why didn’t Daddy want to come?”

“He’s busy with a special meeting.”

“He always has work,” Poppy replied.

Tessa squeezed the small hand. “But he misses you when he does,” she improvised. Surely that was the case. “You’re way more fun than work.”

Poppy screwed her face into a puzzled frown. “You sure?”

“Very.” Tessa led her small charge into the Sunday school building.

Rosewood Community Church had been constructed in the late 1800s. Weathering storms and even a fire, the faithful congregation kept the building well maintained. True to the Victorian age in which it was built, the lines of the church were classic. And, in Tessa’s opinion, classy. She loved that the floors were constructed of local wood, original to the building. Designated on the historical register, the church conveyed its beautiful spirit visually, as well.

The fire that had erupted several years earlier hadn’t stopped worship. Instead, they pulled together to rebuild. Members of other churches volunteered as well, offering materials, labor and donations. It was a church of the community and it had taken the whole community to repair the damage. But now the scars were scarce. Cindy told her they left one charred piece of timber, now enclosed in a case, to remind them of how fortunate they’d been not to lose the entire structure.

Once at her class, it didn’t take long for Poppy to meet her Sunday school teacher, then greet the other children.

Tessa unobtrusively lingered in the hallway to make certain Poppy would be okay. But the child was all smiles, so Tessa finally made her way to her own class.

Her thoughts remained with Poppy. After Sunday school ended, she darted over to check on junior church, but again, Poppy was fine. Still, Tessa fidgeted during the church service. Usually she appreciated the beauty of the stained-glass windows, the aged wood, the flowers that adorned the altar. It was a place for her thoughts to settle, for her mind to seek solace. But today she glanced at her watch more than her Bible. And the moment the congregation dispersed, she practically ran to the chapel to collect Poppy.

Relieved to see that she was still looking happy, Tessa released a breath she hadn’t realized she was holding. “So, you had a good time?”

“Uh-huh.” Poppy waved a booklet. “And I have stories.”

“That’s great. If it’s okay with your father, we can read them later.”

“Can we come back again?”

“If your father agrees.” All Tessa had previously gleaned was that Morgan wasn’t a churchgoer. After last evening’s conversation, it was evident why. She’d known others who had gone through crises of faith because of a loss. She considered herself fortunate to have held on tightly to her own despite Karl, despite the disappointment of knowing she would never bear children.

“Tomorrow?”

Tessa smiled. “Well, not tomorrow. It’s called Sunday school because it meets on Sunday.”

“But the party’s on Saturday!” Poppy wailed.

Tessa noticed a sheet of bright orange paper stapled to the booklet. “Let’s check out what your teacher sent.”

Poppy was right. They were having a class skating party. She drew her eyebrows together. What would Morgan think of this? She had no idea. Which meant her best option was to distract Poppy so that she wouldn’t worry over it right now. “I bet Dorothy will have lunch ready when we get home.”

Shaking her head, Poppy lifted her gaze. “Sunday lunch is sandwiches. Daddy says Dorothy should have a day off.”

Tessa had scrupulously kept to her own cottage on the weekends except when they were working on Saturdays, having asked Morgan to phone her if she was needed. But he hadn’t called, so she didn’t know how the house worked on Sundays. “That’s nice. I love sandwiches. What about you?”

The small head lifted up, then down. “Uh-huh. Dorothy makes dessert on Saturday so we have good dessert for Sunday, too.”

“Do you help?”

“Uh-huh,” Poppy repeated.

Driving back to Morgan’s house, Tessa wondered when he would return. She would have to speak with him about Saturday’s party. Tessa might have successfully distracted the little girl for the time being, but it wasn’t likely that Poppy would forget about the party entirely.

Sure enough, as soon as Poppy spotted Dorothy, she rushed to show her the papers she’d brought home. Dorothy met Tessa’s gaze. She could see her own question in the other woman’s eyes.

“Can I have chips?” Poppy was asking Dorothy.

“Yes. But before lunch, let’s change out of your good dress.”

Poppy swirled, the full skirt responding to the pirouette, swishing prettily. “Okay. Can I wear my purple shirt?”

Dorothy concurred as they headed up the back stairs.

Tessa released her breath. She knew she was overly invested in the outcome of whether Poppy would be allowed to attend the party. She wondered how wise it had been to have pushed for Poppy to attend church.

Morgan was nowhere in sight. But she could imagine his expression when he learned about Saturday’s party. Last night he’d been downright grim at the prospect of Poppy attending church. She hated to imagine his reaction when he heard about a second outing.

Chapter Five (#ulink_a9a53d63-4e6b-5de2-aa0e-ac4f2e952a4a)

Morgan flexed his shoulders, but the knot between them didn’t dissipate. Weariness settled in his bones as he walked from the garage to the house. His quick meeting had turned into a marathon. New problems cropped up like dandelions in the spring.

Landowners weren’t happy about the cleanup from a recent pipeline leak in East Texas. Ronnie Broussard had consulted with him, followed procedure, but one owner had made a career of keeping his neighbors riled up. Not that Morgan expected people to be happy about oil spills. But Harper’s cleanup record was the quickest and most efficient for any size transporter. It was something he took pride in.

The dull ache beneath his eyebrows that never seemed to go away intensified. He didn’t want to believe the constant headaches interfered with his judgment, but on long days like this one he wondered. Had he done all he should on this last leak? Or had details become blurred? He couldn’t put the blame on anyone else. Ronnie had followed orders. Just as Tessa had.

She had surprised him with her utter efficiency and dedication to the job. He had expected a steeper learning curve, but her experience and expertise had eliminated the need. Instead, she had made certain that he knew about the leak immediately, then made the calls necessary for a complete and thorough spill cleanup.

If she had been at the helm during the Exxon Valdez spill, history would have been rewritten. Fortunately, Harper’s spills weren’t on that scale. He spent plenty on maintenance and bought the best steel pipe on the market for replacements. It wasn’t a popular choice these days. A lot of his competitors bought the cheapest steel possible. But he refused to endanger the environment. Poppy had to grow up in this world, and he wanted to make sure he did his part to maintain the land under his control.

Morgan remembered all the people who advised him to take the company public, leave these decisions to someone else. He shifted the computer tablet in his hand. That step wasn’t something he was prepared to do.

Still, the exhaustion weighed on him. The previous day had been twenty-two continuous hours. And today’s meeting had begun early, then lasted late. He had expected to be home around three o’clock, not eight in the evening.

Knowing the back door was unlocked, he pocketed his keys. Pushing the door open, he was surprised by the hum of voices. It was time for Poppy to be in bed. Searching the room, he spotted his daughter, decked out in her favorite jammies, sitting at the table. And for some reason Tessa sat with her.

Dorothy noticed him first. “Well, it’s about time.”

He smiled at her despite his fatigue. He knew she worried about him like a parent. “Took longer than I expected.”

“Now, that’s what I’d call an understatement,” she replied, smoothing the sides of her cross-stitched apron in place.

“What’s going on?” He caught Poppy, who had climbed down from her chair and launched herself at him.

“Tessa made special cocoa,” Poppy told him, her small arms encircling his neck.

“Oh?”