She laughed with a new cynicism. That would be the day, when Blake Donavan would feel anything but dislike for her. He hadn’t been openly antagonistic today, but he’d verged on it just before she left the store. Sarah liked her and it was going to be difficult to keep the child at bay without hurting her. Meredith had a feeling that Sarah Jane’s young life hadn’t been a happy one. She didn’t act like a contented child, and apparently she’d only been with Blake and Mrs. Jackson for a day or so. Meredith had wondered why, but hadn’t dared ask Blake.

Sarah reminded her of herself at that age, a poor little kid from the wrong side of the tracks, with no brothers or sisters and parents who worked themselves into early graves trying to make a living with the sweat of their brows. Bess had been her only friend, and Bess had it even worse than she did at home. The two of them had become close as children and remained close as adults. So when Bess had invited Meredith, with Bobby’s blessing, to come and stay for a few weeks, she’d welcomed the rest from work and routine.

She hadn’t consciously considered that Blake was going to be a very big part of her visit. She’d actually thought she could come to Jack’s Corner without having to see him at all. Which was silly. King and Elissa and Bess and Bobby all knew him, and Blake and King were best friends. She wondered if maybe she’d rationalized things because of Blake, because she’d wanted to see him again, to see if her fears had been real or just manifestations of unrequited love and sorrow. She wanted to see if looking at him could still make her knees go weak and her heart run away.

Well, now she knew. It could. And if she had any sense of self-preservation, she was going to have to keep some distance from him. She couldn’t risk letting Blake get close to her heart a second time. Once had been enough—more than enough. She’d just avoid him, she told herself, and everything would be all right.

But avoiding him turned out to be a forlorn hope, because Sarah Jane liked Meredith and contrived to get her father to call Elissa about that visit she’d mentioned.

Blake listened to the request with mixed feelings. Sarah Jane was beginning to settle down a little, although she was still belligerent and not an overly joyful addition to the household. Mrs. Jackson was coping well enough, but she’d vanish the minute Blake came home from work, leaving him to try and talk to his sullen young daughter. He knew that the situation needed a woman’s touch, but Mrs. Jackson wasn’t the woman. Meredith already liked Sarah, and Sarah was drawn to her. If he could get Meredith to befriend the child, it would make his life easier. But in another way, he was uncertain about trying to force himself and Sarah on Meredith. After having seen how frightened she still was of him, how bitter she was about the past, he might open old wounds and rub salt in them. He didn’t want to hurt Meredith, but Sarah Jane was driving him nuts, and he needed help.

“You have to call ‘lissa,” Sarah Jane said firmly, her mutinous mouth pouting up at him. “She promised I could play with her little girl. I want to see Mer’dith, too. She likes me.” She glared at him, her eyes so like his only in her youthful face. “You don’t like me.”

“I explained that to you,” he said with exaggerated patience as he perched on the corner of his desk. “We don’t know each other.”

“You don’t ever come home,” she said, sighing. “And Mrs. Jackson doesn’t like me, either.”

“She’s not used to children, Sarah, any more than I am.” A corner of his mouth twisted. “Look, sprout, I’ll try to spend more time with you. But you’ve got to understand that I’m a busy man. A lot of people depend on me.”

“Can’t you call ’lissa?” she persisted. “Please?” she added. “Please?”

He found himself picking up the telephone. Sarah had a knack for getting under his skin. He was beginning to get used to the sound of her voice, the running footsteps in the morning, the sound of cartoons and children’s programs coming from the living room. Maybe in time he and Sarah would get along better. They were still in the squaring off and glaring stages right now, and she was every bit as stubborn as he was.

He talked to Elissa, who was delighted to comply with Sarah’s request. She promised to set things up for the following morning because it was Saturday and Blake could bring Sarah down to Bess’s house. But first she wanted to check with Bess and make sure it was all right.

Blake and Sarah both waited for the phone to ring. Blake wondered how Meredith was going to feel about it, but apparently she didn’t mind, because Elissa had called back within five minutes and said that Bess would be expecting the child about ten o’clock. Not only that, Sarah was invited to spend the day.

“I can spend the day?” Sarah asked, brightening.

“We’ll see.” Blake was noncommittal. “Why don’t you find something to play with?”

Sarah shrugged. “I don’t have any toys. I had a teddy bear, but he got lost and Daddy Brad wouldn’t let me look for him before they brought me here.”

His eyes narrowed. “Don’t call him that again,” he said gruffly. “He isn’t your father. I am.”

Sarah’s eyes widened at his tone, and he felt uncomfortable for having said anything at all.

“Can I call you ‘Daddy’?” Sarah asked after a long minute.

Blake’s breath caught in his throat. He shifted. “I don’t care,” he said impassively. In fact, he did care. He cared like hell.

“Okay,” she said, and went off to the kitchen to see if Mrs. Jackson had any more cookies.

Blake frowned, thinking about what she’d said about toys. Surely a child of almost four still played with them. He’d have to ask Elissa. She’d know about toys and little girls.

The next morning, Sarah dressed herself in her new frilly dress and her shoes and went downstairs. Blake had to bite his lip to keep from howling. She had the dress on backward and unbuttoned. She had on frilly socks, but one was yellow and one was pink. Her hair was unruly, and the picture she made was of chaos, not femininity.

“Come here, sprout, and let’s get the dress on properly,” he said.

She glared at him. “It’s all right.”

“No, it’s not.” He stood. “Don’t argue with me, kid. I’m twice your size.”

“I don’t have to mind you,” she said.

“Yes, you do. Or else.”

“Or else what?” she challenged.

He stared down at her. “Or else you’ll stay home today.”

She grimaced and stared down at the carpet. “Okay.”

He helped her turn the dress around and cursed under his breath while he did up buttons that were hard for his big, lean hands to work. He finally got them fixed, then took her upstairs, where he searched until he found matching socks and then brushed her straight hair until it looked soft and shiny.

She turned before he finished, looking small and oddly vulnerable on the vanity stool, and her green eyes met his. “I never had any little children to play with. My mommy said I made her nervous.”

He didn’t say anything, but he could imagine Nina being uncomfortable around children.

“Can I stay here?” Sarah asked unexpectedly, and there was a flash of real fear in her eyes. “You won’t make me go away, will you?”

He had to bite down hard to keep back a harsh curse. “No, I won’t make you go away,” he said after a minute. “You’re my daughter.”

“You didn’t want me when I was a baby,” she accused mutinously.

“I didn’t know about you,” he said, sitting down and talking to her very seriously, as if she were already an adult. “I didn’t know I had a little girl. Now I do. You’re a Donavan, and this is your place in the world. Here, with me.”

“And I can live here forever?”

“Until you grow up, anyway,” he promised. His green eyes narrowed. “You aren’t going to start crying or anything, are you?” he asked, because her eyes were glistening.