It was a good thing her daddy had taught her about grit. Nobody on the face of the earth was more determined or more persistent than she was. She’d used those lessons to get the job she wanted in Nashville, pestering Laurie’s agent until he’d made the introduction just to get her out of his office. Now she was personal assistant to the hottest country music star in the country. Those same lessons made her the best at what she did.
Now they were going to help her get Slade Sutton, too.
She watched him hightail it back toward the barn and his precious horses. She grinned, understanding fully for the first time that she made him nervous. He was every bit as skittish as one of those new colts he found to be such a challenge. That was good. It was a vast improvement over indifference.
Yes, indeed, he could run, but he couldn’t hide, she concluded with satisfaction. Laurie was home for a much-deserved breather, and Val had a whole lot of time on her hands. Slade didn’t stand a chance.
Sunday morning dawned with a sudden storm that rivaled the turmoil churning in Slade’s gut. Lightning and thunder split the air. From inside the house, he could see the creek rising rapidly, though it was not yet in danger of overflowing its banks as it had on a few terrifying occasions in past summers. Just a few years ago, he’d been told, it had flooded out this house, destroying most of the previous tenants’ belongings and washing away a lifetime of memories. In the tenacious manner of the Adamses and everyone around them, they had cleaned it up without complaint and started over.
He shuddered at another crack of thunder, though his unease had more to do with the next few hours than with the storm. Annie would be here all too soon. He had no idea how she felt about him these days. On his few visits to Wilder’s Glen, she had been withdrawn, clearly blaming him for the changes in her life.
As for him, he was nowhere near ready to deal with the changes her arrival would bring to his life. Oh, he’d made a few preparations. He’d moved his things over to their house. He’d gone into town and picked up enough frozen dinners to last for a month. The freezer was so crowded with them, there wasn’t even room for ice cubes.
He’d even gone into a toy store and impulsively bought a huge stuffed bear to sit in the middle of Annie’s bed. When she was little, he’d bought her a stuffed toy or a doll every time he’d come home. She’s always loved them then. Her eyes had lit up with unabashed joy and she’d crawled into his lap, hugging the latest toy tightly in her arms. Her smile had wiped away the guilt he’d always felt at leaving her behind. Maybe it would work one more time.
He trudged over to the barn through the pouring rain, finished up his chores, regretting the fact that they didn’t take longer. When he was through, he went back to the house to shower and wait. That gave him way too much time to think, to remember the way his life had been not so long ago.
He’d been a celebrity of sorts, a champion, whose whole identity had been wrapped up in winning rodeos. He’d had plenty of money in the bank. He’d had a beautiful, headstrong wife who could turn him on with a glance, and a daughter who awed and amazed him. Life was exciting, a never-ending round of facing the unexpected. There’d been media attention and applause and physical challenges.
What did he have now? A decent-paying job working at one of the best ranches in Texas. It was steady employment, no surprises. That’s what he’d told himself he wanted after Suzanne had walked out. Routine and boredom had seemed attractive after the turbulence of their last few weeks together. No emotional entanglements, not even with his own kid. He sighed heavily as he considered the selfishness of that.
He’d pay for it now, no doubt about it. Annie was no longer the joyous, carefree sprite she’d been a year ago. Suzanne was to blame for some of that, but he had to shoulder the rest. It was up to him to make up for the fact that Annie’s mother had walked out on both of them. If he’d been neglectful in the months since, Suzanne had been cruel. He knew for a fact she hadn’t written or called in all that time.
Rainwater dripped from the roof as he watched and waited. The summer storm finally ended almost as quickly as it had begun, leaving the air steamy and the dirt driveway a sea of mud. Dirt splattered every which way when his father’s car finally came barreling in just after one o’clock. Slade grinned at the sight. His father was driving the way he always did, as if he were ten minutes late for a military dress parade. The marine in him had never fully died.
Slade stepped off the porch and went to greet them, wrapping his mother in a bear hug that had her laughing. Only when he’d released her did he notice the exhaustion in her eyes, the tired lines around her mouth. Surely she hadn’t looked that old the last time he’d seen her. Knowing the toll Annie had taken on her was just one more thing for him to feel guilty about.
He studied his father intently as he shook his hand. He didn’t see any noticeable changes in Harold Sutton’s appearance. His close-cropped hair had been gray for years, so Slade couldn’t blame that on Annie. His grip was as strong as ever, his manner as brusque and hearty. He didn’t look like the kind of man who’d let a child get the better of him. Slade had to wonder if that hadn’t just been an excuse to force him to take Annie back into his life.
“Good to see you, Son.”
“You, too, Dad.”
“Annie, girl, get on out here and say hello to your daddy,” Harold Sutton commanded in a booming voice left from his days as a marine drill sergeant. None of his sons had ever dared to ignore one of his orders. Punishments for disobedience had been doled out swiftly. For a minute, though, Slade thought that Annie might. She stared out at them from the back seat, her expression mulish.
Eventually, though, she slipped out of the car with obvious reluctance and stood there awkwardly, refusing to come closer. It was all Slade could do not to gape when he saw her.
How the devil had his daughter gone from being a little angel in frilly dresses to this? he wondered, staring at the ripped jeans, baggy T-shirt and filthy sneakers Annie was wearing. He’d been prepared for the cast on her arm, but not for the fact that it appeared she’d been rolling in mud wearing it.
And what the dickens had happened to her curls? The last time he’d seen her, she’d had pretty, chestnut-colored hair, braided neatly and tied with bows. Now it looked as if someone had taken a pair of dull scissors and whacked it off about two inches from her scalp.
Annie regarded him with a sullen expression, while he tried to figure out what to say to her.
“You look real good,” he managed finally.
Annie didn’t even waste her breath replying to the blatant lie. She just continued to stare at him with a defiant tilt to her chin and a heartbreaking mix of hurt and anger in her eyes. He might have responded to that, if his mother hadn’t latched onto his arm and pulled him aside.
“I’ll explain to you about that later,” she muttered under her breath, her gaze pointedly focused on Annie’s hairstyle. “Please don’t say anything about her hair. She’s very self-conscious about it.”
“She darned well ought to be,” Slade retorted. “What were you thinking?”
“It wasn’t me,” she snapped. “When she found out we were bringing her over here, she did it herself.”
He shot a bewildered glance toward his daughter. “But why?”
“I have no idea. She’s a mystery, Slade. Keeps everything bottled up inside. It comes out in these daredevil acts of hers. I never know what kind of trouble she’s going to get herself into. She’s a smart girl, but you saw her report cards. She got through the school year by