Daddy with a Deadline (2 page)

So the con man had done his homework. He knew Brad’s parents’ first names.

“A few days ago I got a letter from Brad asking me to help you during the last month of your pregnancy. He wrote the letter before he died and asked his lawyer to mail it to me a month before your due date.”

Annie drummed her fingers on the table. “Hmm. What’s Brad’s lawyer’s name?” She’d trip up this impostor one way or another!

“Steadman. Alan Steadman.”

OK, so he knew Brad’s lawyer’s name. Probably a lucky guess. Ash Grove, Texas, didn’t have an abundance of attorneys.

“Show me the letter.”

“Sorry, but I left it at the ranch. I’ll bring it the next time I see you.”

There won’t be a next time
. Thankfully the words hadn’t slipped out of Annie’s mouth.

Perspiration trickled down the man’s tanned face. Annie sighed. She was the victim here, so why was he sweating? He pulled a handkerchief from his pocket and mopped his brow.

While Annie didn’t believe his story, it could be true. Brad had lived for a week after the accident and would have had time to write a letter. She pulled herself up short. Brad hadn’t cared about her. And he’d been angry that she was pregnant. Sending help would never have occurred to him.

“Thanks for your concern, um, Trent, but I don’t need help. I can manage just fine.”

“Your husband didn’t think so. He figured being a widow with two babies on the way was too much to deal with alone.”

As Annie gazed into those smoky-gray eyes, part of her wished she could believe him. She and Brad had moved to Ash
Grove nine months ago, and the trauma of his accident and death, plus adjusting to her new job, had left her little time to make friends. Any support would be welcome.

She bit her lip. “Exactly what did Brad suggest?”

“Rides to the doctor’s office. Help with grocery shopping. Basic stuff.” He paused and a flush crept up his neck. “And Brad asked me to help you bring the babies home from the hospital. He figured you shouldn’t have to do that alone.”

Annie’s heart lodged in her throat. She’d been dreading that moment most of all. How could she bring her little ones home with nothing but an empty house waiting for them?

The cowboy mopped his brow again. “I’ll never understand why Brad chose me. I know nothing about kids, much less babies. But I owe him. Without the Samuels family, I’d have become a delinquent, or worse. So I can’t ignore this request.”

Annie pursed her lips. “Why didn’t I see you at the funeral? If you and Brad were such great friends?”

“I went to Austin to help a friend on his ranch. I didn’t hear about Brad’s death until I returned.”

Hmm. Either the guy was a great actor or he was telling the truth. Annie wished she could believe him but didn’t dare risk it. Not when she was solely responsible for two unborn babies.

“I know this sounds crazy,” he continued. “It does to me too. But I’ll help out in any way I can, Annie. If you’ll let me.”

Annie’s mind reeled with confusion. Finally she said, “Give me some time to think about it.”

“That’s fair.” He scraped back his chair and stood. “Thanks for hearing me out. Is there anything you need before I go?”

“Nope. Nothing at all.”

He pulled a business card from his shirt pocket and laid it on the table. “Here’s my cell-phone number. Call me anytime. I’m at your disposal.”

“Thank you. And good-bye.”

“Good-bye.”

Trent Madison strode through the house and out the front door. When he’d gone, Annie hurried to secure the lock. She’d be more careful in the future. For her sake and the babies’.

She exhaled deeply as she watched the cowboy climb into a black pickup and drive off. Was the man a loyal friend as he claimed? Or an impostor with a motive? She’d never know. But he was gone. And she and the twins were safe. She brewed a cup of chamomile tea to calm her shaky nerves.

As she sat at the kitchen table sipping the tea, she wondered how she’d lost control of her life. A happy marriage, a career in education, and a family had been her top priorities. When she fell in love with Brad, she thought her future would contain all of the above.

But life took some unexpected turns. And as much as it hurt, she finally admitted that Brad didn’t love her and never had. The hardest fact to accept was that he didn’t care about or want the babies. Her eyes blurred with tears as she recalled his harsh words.

Annie laid her hand protectively on her stomach. “Don’t worry, little ones. I’ll take care of you. And I’ll love you with all my heart.”

The closer Annie came to her delivery date, the more anxiety tugged at her. Could she raise two babies alone? She’d never done much babysitting and had never cared for a baby, let alone a newborn.

But Brad’s indifference and the accident had forced her to set new goals. Lots of women raised children alone, and she would too. “I’ll be the best single mom in Ash Grove, Texas,” she said, but she didn’t quite believe it. Not yet anyway.

Trent Madison’s scent lingered in her kitchen. And she couldn’t erase the image of him leaning toward her and speaking with strength and authority. While the rough-edged rancher had startled her, even frightened her, she’d seen sincerity in his eyes and heard it echo in his voice.

At least she thought she had. And the cowboy’s offer, even if bogus, brought some comfort into Annie’s lonely world.

Trent floored his Ford F-150 and headed for his ranch. His first encounter with Brad Samuels’s widow had left him rattled. Why hadn’t his childhood friend asked for something simple? Like painting the woman’s house or lending her money?

Instead, he had asked Trent to see Annie through late-stage pregnancy and help her bring twin babies home from the hospital. That was like asking someone who couldn’t add two and two to manage a bank!

On his way home, he stopped at a neighboring ranch to finalize the sale of a horse. As he spoke with the buyer, he began feeling like himself: Trent Madison, rancher, horse trainer, and recluse. By choice.

When he reached Copper Creek Ranch, he parked near the barn and headed for the house. “Is that you, Mr. Trent?” Rosa called as he entered the kitchen. “I’ve kept your lunch warm for over an hour.” Rosa Hernandez, his cook and housekeeper, stood at the stove with hands planted firmly on her hips.

“Sorry, Rosa. I had a client to see.”

“At least you got off the ranch for a while. You need to get out more. To socialize.”

“I like my life the way it is. You know that.”

“But the only people you see are your clients and me. You’re a handsome man. And you need a...”

“If you’re planning to say ‘wife,’ don’t.”

She shook her head and muttered quietly. “Sit down, sit down. I’ll bring your lunch.”

Trent dropped into a chair and stretched to ease the tension from his shoulders. Since Brad’s letter came, he’d forgotten
how to relax. Why had Brad chosen him? Surely there were more capable people to help?

When Rosa set a plate of steaming quesadillas on the table, Trent breathed in their fragrant aroma. “Will you join me?”

“I’ve eaten. But if you want company, I’ll have some coffee.”

He nodded, and Rosa filled two mugs and sat down at the table. She tended to mother him, but since Trent had never had a mother who cared, he didn’t mind.

Most of the time.

When he tasted the spicy quesadillas, he thanked his lucky stars that Rosa worked for him. “They’re delicious.”

“Good.”

Rosa studied him across the table. “Something’s bothering you, Mr. Trent. You’ll feel better if you talk about it.”

He shrugged. “A friend asked for a favor that will keep me busy for the next few weeks. After that, things will return to normal.”

“What kind of favor?”

Suddenly Brad’s request seemed more than Trent could deal with alone. So he told Rosa how the Samuels home had become his refuge during childhood. Then he went to the sideboard, pulled out Brad’s letter, and handed it to her.

“Ay, ay, ay,” Rosa said as she read the letter. “Ay, ay, ay, ay, ay.”

“My feelings exactly.”

“What are you going to do?”

“I visited Brad’s widow this morning and offered my help.”

“Good for you. Was she pleased?”

A wry grin tugged at his mouth. “Far from it. The woman thought I’d come to attack her.”

“Well, you can be intimidating at times. Even gruff,” Rosa added, not cutting him an ounce of slack.

Trent shook his head. “Annie Samuels wants nothing to do with me. I’ll never see her again.”

“But the lady has suffered a great loss and needs help. And you owe your friend this favor.”

When Rosa was right, she was right.

“So you’ll visit her again?”

“I’ll wait a few days and see.”

“Is she pretty, this Mrs. Samuels?” asked Rosa, the eager matchmaker.

He scowled. “What difference does that make?”

“It’s just a question. Is she pretty?”

An image of Brad’s widow flashed into Trent’s mind. Blonde curls, a peaches-and-cream complexion, and eyes brighter than a field of bluebonnets. “Annie Samuels is very pretty,” he said.

“What does she look like?”

Trent raked a hand through his hair. If he didn’t supply a description, Rosa would pester him for days. “She has blue eyes and blonde hair. And she’s probably got a great smile, but she never showed it to me.”

“Why don’t you invite her to the ranch for lunch?”

Trent choked on his quesadillas. After catching his breath, he said, “Absolutely not. I’ll have enough trouble working my schedule around Brad’s widow and the babies’ birth. But I won’t bring her here. You know I like peace and quiet.”

Rosa shook her head as she cleared dishes from the table. “You must move on, Mr. Trent. Dawn took advantage of you, but there are good women out there. Women that would make wonderful wives.”

“I’m sure there are. But I’m not in the market.”

“This could be an omen,” Rosa said, as if he hadn’t spoken a word. “Maybe you need Mrs. Samuels as much as she needs you.”

Trent should never have confided in his housekeeper. When would he learn?

“Don’t get any ideas,” he warned. “Do you hear me?”

But Rosa ignored him. She started running water in the sink and singing loudly in Spanish.

...Heavy thunderstorms are expected throughout the afternoon...

Annie switched off the car radio after hearing the dire forecast. As she drove to her obstetrician’s office, she reviewed the surprise visit from the cowboy. The man hadn’t looked like a criminal. But lots of folks get bilked by con artists who pose as honest people.

After the appointment, Annie decided to have lunch at a new tearoom in town. She’d driven half the distance to the Peace and Plenty when her ancient Honda named Eloise choked and—to Annie’s horror—died.

“Don’t do this, Eloise,” she moaned as she steered her car to the curb. “I have enough problems.”

Thunder rumbled in the distance. Annie tried to restart the car, but Eloise wouldn’t cooperate. Who could she call? Most of the friends she’d made in Ash Grove were kindergarteners.

Annie pulled her cell phone from her purse and called her best friend Sara, but the line was busy. Her gregarious friend, who was also pregnant, might chat on the phone for hours.

Next she tried her neighbor Frieda Higginbotham. No answer. Mrs. H, an older widow, kept busy volunteering and might not be home till late. Annie sighed. Only two phone calls, and she’d exhausted her possibilities.

“I have no backup,” she said aloud. While she’d known this for some time, it now hit especially hard. She was alone in the world. No family, one neighbor, and one friend, who was chatting on the telephone. Even her car had deserted her.

You have Trent Madison
. It seemed a voice whispered those words into her ear.

How ludicrous. Just this morning, the cowboy had scared her half silly. And she still questioned his motives.

A flash of lightning cut through the darkening sky. Dragging her pregnant self through Ash Grove in a downpour wouldn’t be pretty. Annie rifled through her purse, searching for the cowboy’s
business card. As her fingers closed around it, she breathed a relieved sigh.