Daddy with a Deadline Read online

  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

  CONTENTS

  CHAPTER 1

  CHAPTER 2

  CHAPTER 3

  CHAPTER 4

  CHAPTER 5

  CHAPTER 6

  CHAPTER 7

  CHAPTER 8

  CHAPTER 9

  CHAPTER 10

  CHAPTER 11

  CHAPTER 12

  ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  CHAPTER 1

  “HOW 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 i
n 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.”

  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 h
er 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?”