Read Daddy with a Deadline Online
Authors: Marilyn Shank
Daddy with a Deadline
The characters and events portrayed in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author.
Text copyright © 2012 Marilyn Shank
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced, or stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without express written permission of the publisher.
Published by Montlake Romance
P.O. Box 400818
Las Vegas, NV 89140
ISBN-13: 9781612186672
ISBN-10: 161218667X
In memory of my favorite Texan and awesome big brother Dr. Ralph R. Behnke, Speech and Communications Professor Texas Christian University
“H
OW DARE YOU
die on me, Bradley Jacob Samuels! How dare you die and leave me pregnant, broke, and lonely!” cried Annie Samuels as she shampooed her hair in the shower. Most people sang in the shower, Annie realized. But she used this time to vent her frustrations.
She dried her hair and then slipped into tights and a knit top that clung to her extremely pregnant form. If she gained one more ounce, she’d surely explode! She fixed breakfast, carried it to the living room, and sank onto the couch. It had the nerve to creak when she sat down. “Shut up,” she told the couch.
Just as Annie finished breakfast the doorbell rang. When she opened the door, she found a man on her porch. This was no ordinary man. He would have certainly caught her attention if she weren’t a recent widow with two babies on the way.
Tall, tan, and lean, the man looked like he’d just stepped off a movie set. His jeans fit snugly, and a red cotton shirt with the sleeves rolled up exposed muscular forearms. His hair was the color of dark chocolate, and he clutched a Stetson in his hands.
“Hello,” he said, gazing at Annie with smoky-gray eyes.
“Hello,” Annie replied. Had the cowboy’s horse broken down? If not, why was he standing here all tan and gorgeous on her front porch?
“May I help you?” she asked.
“Actually, ma’am, I’m here to help you.”
“You’re here to help me.” Annie repeated his comment to see if it made more sense. It didn’t.
“Yes, ma’am, I am.”
Her eyes narrowed. “Don’t call me ‘ma’am’ again. I’m depressed enough already.”
“Sorry, Mrs. Samuels.”
“So you know my name.” The hair on the back of Annie’s neck prickled. Was this guy a stalker? If he had evil intentions, surely he’d pick on a woman with a shape. She’d lost hers months ago. “What exactly do you want?”
He twirled the Stetson. “It’s complicated. May I come in so we can talk?”
“Certainly not.” If he planned to attack her, he could do so on her front porch in broad daylight. “Now listen, Mr. Whoever You Are...”
“My name is Trent Madison. I’m a horse trainer, and I own a ranch outside Ash Grove. I don’t blame you for being suspicious, but this is a legitimate visit. I’m here to offer my services—”
“Hold it right there,” Annie declared. “You have sixty seconds to tell me why you’re picking on a hormonally challenged pregnant woman before I start to scream. My neighbors watch over me like mother hens, and they’ll all come running.”
The man’s gaze caught Annie’s and held on tight. “I’m here because...” He hesitated then started over. “I’m here because your husband asked me to come.”
Annie opened her mouth to scream. She fully intended to scream, but her voice deserted her. Suddenly her vision blurred and her knees buckled. As she drifted into darkness, she felt the
cowboy slip his arms around her waist, scoop her up, and carry her into the house.
Annie awoke on her bed and blinked to clear her thoughts. She’d dreamed a handsome cowboy was harassing her on the front porch. She blinked again. Uh-oh! Now the man paced her bedroom! Her pulse skittered into the danger zone. So he was flesh and blood after all. She scanned the room for her cordless so she could call 911. Darn. She must have left it in the kitchen.
When her intruder headed down the hall, Annie considered making a run for it. But with this body, she couldn’t outrun a toddler, much less this lean cowboy in enviable physical condition.
Annie peeked at him as he strode down the hall carrying a magazine and a glass of water. She squeezed her eyes shut before he saw her. Moments later she felt a gentle breeze on her face. Was he fanning her with the magazine?
“I’m sorry, Annie. I didn’t mean to frighten you.” The man’s voice was deep and sensual. And he sounded as if he meant what he said.
More fanning.
“Please wake up.”
Annie opened her eyes, and the cowboy rewarded her with a sexy grin. “I’m glad you’re OK,” he said. “I was ready to call 911.”
“So was I.”
“What for?”
“To stop a potential attacker from...” From what? Annie wondered.
From fanning her to death with a magazine?
His gray eyes widened. “You think I came here to hurt you?” He sank onto the love seat near Annie’s bed and shook his head. “I knew this couldn’t work. I would have told Brad so, but...” His
cheeks flushed, highlighting his ruddy good looks. “I couldn’t tell Brad. He’s no longer here.”
Annie pulled herself into a sitting position. “So you know my husband is dead. Listen, mister, if you’re after the insurance money, there isn’t any. And Brad’s hospital bills drained the last of our savings.” She glared. “So go find that horse of yours and ride into the sunset.”
“I’m not a con man,” he said. “I’m trying to help.” The cowboy’s gaze locked with Annie’s, and when his dark eyes probed hers a sensation rippled through her body. Surely it wasn’t attraction? She shrugged off the insane notion.
“You may go now, Mr. Madison,” Annie said, using her strict voice. The one that struck fear into the hearts of her kindergarten students.
“I can’t go. Brad sent me.”
She eyed him incredulously. “How could Brad have sent you when he’s deceased?”
He breathed a frustrated sigh. “Look, will you just hear me out? Then I’ll leave. You have my word.”
In addition to being movie-star handsome, the cowboy seemed rational. But he couldn’t be. Every word he said sounded crazy. Maybe if she let him talk he’d leave. And she could forget this unfortunate incident ever took place.
“Go ahead, then. I’m listening.”
He stood and approached her, and panic bubbled in Annie’s throat. Did he plan to attack her after all? Just as she opened her mouth to scream, the cowboy reached for the glass on the nightstand and handed it to her. “You look pale,” he said. “Better take a drink of water.” The gesture shocked Annie so thoroughly that she did as she was told.
A wave of nausea hit hard. Most women got nausea out of the way in their first trimester, but not Annie. Hers surfaced at will.
“What’s the matter?”
“Morning sickness. Let me grab some crackers and a soda and then you can tell me your story.” She slanted another stern glance in his direction. “And then you’ll leave, right? Like you promised?”
“Right.”
Annie started wriggling off the bed, which took supreme effort in her condition. The entire time, she kept her gaze glued on her intruder.
“Should I help you?”
“No, thank you. Since you know where my kitchen is, lead the way.”
When they reached the kitchen, Annie planned to grab the cordless and dial 911. She’d heard that the police could trace calls whether a person had a chance to speak or not.
The cowboy ambled ahead of her. In spite of her anxiety, Annie couldn’t help noticing that he looked as appealing from behind as from the front. And his musky aftershave filled the hallway. It had a fresh scent that suited his outdoor lifestyle.
Annie gave herself a mental shake. After her disastrous marriage to Brad, she had no business ogling a handsome cowboy. Certainly not one with questionable intentions!
As he settled into one of her Windsor chairs, Annie scanned the kitchen for her cordless and sighed. Not here, either. She grabbed the crackers, poured herself a soda, and, on impulse, poured the cowboy one too.
“I’m ready, Mr. Madison,” she said as she joined him at the table.
“Call me Trent.”
Anything to get rid of him. “OK, Trent. Go ahead.”
When he folded his hands and leaned toward her, the man’s presence filled her kitchen. He seemed to suck all the oxygen out of the air. He was taller than Brad and had a strong upper body. And his angular features accented those fascinating eyes.
“I’ll start from the beginning,” he said. “Brad and I were buddies in grade school. Because my home life was rotten, I spent a lot of time at the Samuels house. Ava and Nathan treated me like a second son.”