daddy. We’re coming Sunday and that’s that.”
There was a finality to his tone with which Slade was all too familiar. Just to emphasize his point, Harold hung up before Slade could think of a single argument to convince him to keep Annie with them.
“Looks like it’s time to face the music, bud,” he muttered under his breath. Way past time, some would say.
Resigned to his fate, first thing in the morning he arranged to sit down with Cody Adams to discuss his housing situation.
“If there’s no place available, I can call my folks back and tell them to give me more time to work it out,” he told Cody, praying for a reprieve.
“Absolutely not,” Cody said at once, then grinned at Slade’s heavy sigh. “Uh-oh, were you counting on me to bail you out of this?”
“I suppose I was,” Slade admitted. “Annie and I haven’t spent a lot of time together. I’m not sure how good I’ll be at this parent thing.”
“Then you’re lucky you’re here. Anytime you’re at a loss, just ask one of us for help.” The rancher’s expression turned sly. “I know one woman who’d be glad to step in and do a little mothering if Annie needs it.”
An image of Val Harding came to mind without Cody even having to mention her name. A petite whirlwind with a nonstop mouth, she had set her sights on Slade during a visit to the ranch a few months back. She hadn’t let up since. Thankfully, she was in Nashville right now with her boss, country music superstar Laurie Jensen, who was married to Cody’s son.
“Thanks all the same,” Slade said curtly. “Last I heard Val was out of town.”
Cody’s grin spread. “Got back last night. The way I hear it from Harlan Patrick, Laurie’s going to take a break for a while. She’ll be working on the songs for her next album. Val should have plenty of time on her hands.”
“I just hope she finds a way to spend it besides pestering me,” Slade muttered.
“What was that?”
“Nothing.”
Thankfully, Cody let the subject drop. He held out a key. “Check out that house down by the creek. It’s been vacant since Joe and his wife left. It’s probably a little dusty, but it should be fine for the two of you once it’s aired out and had a good cleaning. If it needs anything—dishes, extra blankets, whatever—let me know. I’ll get somebody to handle the horses today. You get the place ready. Call up to the main house. One of Maritza’s helpers can come down to give you a hand.”
“No need,” Slade said. “I’ll take care of whatever needs to be done. Thanks, Cody. I owe you.”
Cody regarded him speculatively. “Family counts for a lot around here. We’ll welcome Annie as if she were one of us. You can rest easy on that score.”
Slade knew he meant it, too. The Adamses were good people. Maybe they would be able to make up for whatever he lacked.
He took the key Cody offered and headed toward the small house made of rough-hewn wood. It wasn’t fancy, but there was a certain charm to it, he supposed. Pots of bright red geraniums bloomed on the porch and a big old cottonwood tree shaded the yard. The creek flowed past just beyond.
The house had been closed up since the last tenant had left, a married hand who’d retired and moved to Arizona. A cursory glance around the small rooms told Slade it had everything he and Annie could need, including a small TV that had been hooked up to cable. The kitchen was well stocked with dishes and pots and pans. Fortunately, the refrigerator had a good-size freezer, big enough to accommodate all the prepared meals he and Annie were likely to consume. His cooking skills ran to cold cereal and boiled eggs.
The closets revealed a supply of linens for the beds, a small one in what would be Annie’s room, and a big brass bed with a feather mattress in what was clearly the master bedroom. Staring at that mattress was disconcerting. All sorts of wicked images came to mind, images of being tangled up with a woman again. One particular woman, he conceded with some dismay. He could all but feel her breath on his chest and sense the weight of her head tucked under his chin. It had been a long time since he’d allowed himself to indulge in the fantasy, much less the reality.
“Quite a bed, isn’t it?” an all-too-familiar