Slade realized that’s what he should have done, but everything had unfolded so quickly he hadn’t had time to think. He cursed the injuries that made his reflexes too slow to have done what Harlan Patrick was able to do without thought.
He watched the huge black stallion eat up the ground between him and Aunt Sadie. When he was close enough, Harlan Patrick grabbed the reins of the runaway horse and slowed her down. The instant Aunt Sadie halted, he reached over and gathered Annie into his arms and brought her back.
“Thank you,” Slade said, taking Annie from him. Still sobbing, she clung to Slade’s neck and wrapped her legs around his waist.
“I’ll see to the horses,” Harlan Patrick said. “She’ll be fine, Slade. It happens to every kid at some point. Don’t beat yourself up.”
“She could have been killed,” Slade said grimly.
“But she wasn’t. That’s what matters. She’s fine. The horses are fine. No harm done.”
Except to Slade’s pride. He felt like he’d failed his daughter one more time. Her first ride, which should have been a wonderful memory, would probably haunt her now.
He realized then that Annie had grown silent. He turned his head and met her gaze.
“I’m sorry, Daddy.”
“It wasn’t your fault.”
“It must have been. You said she was gentle. I must have done something wrong.”
“No, baby. Sometimes horses just get an idea into their heads. That’s why you have to take it easy and learn how to control them. Next time will be better.”
Eyes shimmering with tears suddenly filled with hope. “You’ll let me ride again?”
Much as he wanted to deny her the chance and keep her from risk, he nodded. “If you want to.”
“Oh, yes,” she breathed, her face lit with excitement. “Up until I couldn’t get her to stop, it was awesome.”
Slade shook his head. “I guess you were right about those genes of mine being part of your makeup. I never took a spill so bad that I didn’t want to get right back on and try it again.”
“See, Daddy? We are alike.”
As humbled as he was by how obviously thrilled Annie was by the comparison, Slade couldn’t honestly say if he thought the assessment was good or bad.
Twelve
Back in Nashville Val worked from dawn to way past dusk, driven by a need to fill every hour with so much work that there wouldn’t be a single second when her thoughts could stray to an impossible cowboy and his tomboy daughter. The tactic worked reasonably effectively, though Nick had taken to steering clear of her because she snapped his head off at the slightest provocation.
“If you’re so damn miserable, go back to Texas,” Laurie’s agent told her at one point. “I don’t know what it is about the men down there, but neither you nor Laurie seem to have a lick of common sense when they’re involved.”
“There’s work to be done here,” she’d retorted, ignoring his analysis of the potent impact of Texas males. “Laurie thought it would be best if I helped you out for a while and that’s exactly what I’m doing.”
“Fine,” he’d said, relenting. “Far be it from me to question the wisdom of my biggest star, but if you ask me, we’d all be happier if you’d just give in and work things out with the cowboy. She certainly was.”
“Nobody asked you.”
Nick had shrugged, then gone back into his office and slammed the door. Val had no doubt that if it had been up to him, he’d have sent her packing. He’d never been crazy about the influence she had over his superstar. Nor had he liked the fact that she’d helped Laurie keep the secret of her first pregnancy from him. He had told them both in no uncertain terms that if they kept him in the dark on anything that important ever again, he’d cut his professional ties with Laurie. Val’s present mood only added to the ongoing friction.
The days passed, filled with brusque encounters with Nick and a million and one details to be handled. Slade never—well, hardly ever—entered her thoughts.
But there was nothing Val could do to prevent Slade from haunting her dreams. She was having an especially sweet one when the ringing of the phone woke her.
“Hey, sleepyhead, I thought you’d be up with the chickens,” Laurie said cheerfully.
“You’re the one on the farm,” Val grumbled, burying her head in the pillow.
“It’s a ranch.”
“Same difference.”
“Not exactly, but we’ll let that pass.”
“Why are you calling at this hour?” she muttered. “It’s still dark out.”
“Something’s happened,”