Daddy with a Deadline (11 page)

Sara sighed. “Sounds like heaven to me.”

“Sit down and I’ll tell you everything.”

Annie fixed Sara some cocoa. When she finished her story Sara said, “Have you recovered from the excitement?”

“There’s more. Trent kissed me. And the worst part is I kissed him back!” Annie felt her cheeks flame as she admitted the unthinkable. “How could I do that, Sara? A man deals with raging testosterone. But I’m a rational, clear-thinking woman—a widow, yet. I should know better.”

To Annie’s horror, Sara smiled. “That sounds like the best part, not the worst part.”

“How can you say that?”

“Because you like that cowboy. I can tell from the way you talk about him. You respect the man and you trust his judgment.”

“What does that have to do with kissing him?”

“You’re finally spending time with a man who has integrity and high standards. You deserve that, Annie. So it’s perfectly natural that he kissed you and you kissed him back.”

Annie slumped in her chair. “I count on you to give me rock-solid advice. Not to read things into my relationship with Trent that don’t exist. Once the twins arrive, he’ll have fulfilled his obligation. He’ll be history.”

“Your relationship with Trent isn’t only about obligation. You passed that stage long ago.”

Annie’s mouth dropped open. “What are you talking about?”

“Trent could have done a few things to fulfill his obligation to Brad. But that cowboy has gone to extremes. Like getting your car fixed and painting the nursery.”

The doorbell rang again. “What is this?” Annie cried. “Grand Central Station?”

She opened the door and saw a stranger on her porch. “Mrs. Samuels? I’m Wes Stanford from Stanford’s Garage. I’ve brought you a loaner car.”

“You’ve what?”

“I’ve brought a car you can use while I repair your Honda. It’s parked in your driveway, and here are the keys. If you have questions or problems, call me.” He handed Annie a business card and the keys before heading for an SUV, complete with driver, parked out front. A moment later they drove off.

The sun had set and the world had turned inky black. Annie peered into the darkness, and sure enough, she could see the outline of a vehicle in her driveway.

“Now do you believe me? Trent sent you a car.” Sara grabbed her hand. “Come on. Let’s see what it is.”

When they reached the driveway, Sara squealed with delight. “Would you look at this? It’s a Volkswagen. A brand-new bright-green Volkswagen! How awesome is that?”

Annie’s heart fluttered like a fish on a line. And her knees turned to instant pudding. She stared at the sleek, shiny vehicle sitting in her driveway and realized if she didn’t sit down this minute she would faint.

“I have to go inside, Sara. I have to go inside right now.”

Sara linked her arm through Annie’s and escorted her back into the house. “Boy, was my theory ever right,” Sara bragged. “And do you want to know what else I think?”

Annie was afraid to ask, but that didn’t stop her exuberant friend.

“I think Trent Madison’s in love with you!” she said.

Trent floored the accelerator of his truck and headed for the ranch, hoping Rosa had left. Peace and quiet were the only companions he longed for tonight. When he spotted her electric-blue Dodge Neon, he sighed.

Rosa sat at the kitchen table drinking coffee. “I thought you’d be gone by now,” he said.

“I had to know if Miss Annie’s OK.”

Trent dropped into a chair. He buried his face in his hands as exhaustion caught up with him.

Rosa passed him a mug of coffee. “So is she OK?”

Trent shot her a troubled glance. “How would I know? I’m not Annie’s doctor. Or her boyfriend. I’m just fulfilling her husband’s last wishes.”

“And you’re doing a fine job, Mr. Trent.”

Trent shook his head. “The woman is stubborn and unreasonable. She plans to let the twins sleep in picnic baskets.”

“Not picnic baskets?”

“Might as well be. I offered to take her crib shopping, but she said no.”

“Don’t ask her. Just take her.”

“How do I do that? Handcuff Annie to my wrist and drag her to Babyland?”

“Take her somewhere else first. Then drop by Babyland on the way home. And have you thought about the shower?” Rosa probed. “Those children will need clothes.”

Trent hadn’t noticed any clothes or diapers in the nursery. He moaned. “I doubt even Brad expected a shower. Besides, Annie will never agree.”

“Make that a surprise too.”

The zany ideas from the world of Rosa lodged in Trent’s brain and somehow made sense. “You think that would work?”

“Do you know any of Annie’s friend’s?”

“She’s mentioned a teacher friend. Sara, I think.”

“Call the woman and let her in on the secret. I’ll take care of the rest.”

Trent couldn’t believe he was considering hosting a baby shower.

“I’m leaving now,” Rosa said. “I have work to do.” She grabbed her purse and headed for her car.

Finally some silence. Trent listened to the gentle ticking of the clock and the howl of a coyote in the distance. Never in his thirty-plus years had he lived through such a day. Scenes from it flashed through his mind like the twists of a kaleidoscope.

Each scene starred Annie Samuels. Annie in her stalled Honda. Annie in the hospital waiting room as she came to rejoin him. She’d looked so discouraged that Trent longed to gather her in his arms and take her home.

Which he did. Never mind it was without permission.

But the image that haunted Trent most of all was Annie tucked into his bed. One look at the woman and he forgot to breathe. Nothing had prepared him for Annie’s flushed cheeks, runaway curls, and sleepy eyes. And the fact that she was wrapped, delectably, in his very own bathrobe!

Normally at this time of night Trent’s thoughts centered on the business of running his ranch. But that was in his pre-Annie life—a life he could barely remember.

Only four o’clock. A long evening stretched ahead of Annie. Since her labor stopped and she’d left Copper Creek Ranch, her life had turned quiet again. Too quiet.

She went to the window and gazed at the shiny Volkswagen. Another gift from the capable hands of Trent Madison. Annie sighed. She wanted to manage her own life, but loneliness, debt, and an ailing car stood in her way.

The phone rang. “Hi, Annie. It’s Trent.”

Just four words and the man sent her heart racing. “Hello, Trent.”

“Did Wes drop off a car last night?”

“Yes, he did. A bright-green Volkswagen.”

“Do you like it?”

“I like looking at it. But I can’t drive it.”

“Why not?”

“It’s a stick shift and I’m out of practice.”

“Then I’ll give you a lesson. Are you free?”

Annie felt torn. As she remembered the thrill of Trent’s kiss, she knew she should refuse. But her fickle heart wanted to say yes.

“Yes or no, Annie. Do you want a driving lesson or not?”

“I suppose so.”

“OK, then. I’ll be right over.”

Just as Annie finished changing into a pink shirt and a pair of jeans the doorbell rang. When she opened the door and saw Trent, her heart raced like a hot rod on a Saturday night. His T-shirt outlined a rock-solid chest and muscular biceps. And the snug jeans showed off a lean yet powerful frame. She should have turned down the driving lesson.

“Are you ready?” he asked.

“Sure you want to tackle this? I haven’t driven a stick since I was sixteen.”

Trent shoved back his Stetson. “Hey lady, I train wild horses for a living. I can handle a driving lesson with a kindergarten teacher.”

“Don’t say I didn’t warn you.” Annie’s stomach lurched. “Ouch,” she said. “One of the twins has been kickboxing all afternoon.”

Trent’s eyes deepened as he studied her. “What does it feel like, Annie? Does it hurt?”

“Not exactly. But it sure gets my attention. Some nights the two of them wiggle so much they keep me awake.”

The guilty twin persisted. “Here. Give me your hand.”

Trent reached out and Annie positioned his hand on her stomach. It felt warm and strong as she held it in place. As if on cue, the guilty twin gave a powerful kick.

Trent eyes widened. “Wow! That one’s definitely a boy.”

“I may prove you wrong. Both twins might be girls.”

Annie saw the wonder in Trent’s gaze. “It’s amazing to feel a baby move. A first for me.”

She sighed. “Not for me. These two use their mom for a punching bag.”

When Trent withdrew his hand, Annie felt uncomfortable. Why did she take the liberty of placing his hand on her stomach? She hadn’t yet recovered from the intensity of the man’s kiss. Letting him feel the baby move was a very private gesture. What was she thinking?

Then Trent cleared his throat. “Have you picked names for the twins?”

“I bought a book of names but can’t decide. Would you look at it later? I’d like a man’s opinion.”

“Sure thing.”

Annie stuck the book into her purse. “But no horse names allowed. Nothing like Dusty, Star, or Ranger. Just names suitable for children.”

“I’m hurt. While I’ve never named any children, I’d probably be good at it.”

That wouldn’t surprise Annie. The man was good at everything he did. Especially kissing. Not that she’d experience that again.

“Ready to go?”

She nodded. “Better fasten your seat belt extra tight.”

T
RENT OPENED THE
car door and helped Annie wriggle into the driver’s seat. “Are you comfortable?” he asked.

She sighed. “I don’t even remember comfortable. I only hope I can reach the pedals.”

Trent climbed into the passenger seat, hoping this lesson would go smoothly. Annie started the engine, went a short distance, and the car died.

“Try it again,” Trent said.

She did. Again and again and again. “See? I wasn’t kidding about being rusty.”

“Give the car more gas as you let up on the clutch.”

She took a deep breath. “OK.”

Annie gave it too much gas and killed the engine again. Finally she maneuvered the VW out of her driveway and into the street. Whew! This was a bigger challenge than Trent had bargained for.

Fortunately traffic was light. Annie shifted into first but released the clutch too quickly and the car shot forward like a discharged bullet. Good thing no one was in front of them or they’d have been rear-ended!

Trent felt beads of perspiration erupt on his forehead. “Let the clutch out slowly, Annie,” he said, trying to keep the frustration out of his voice. “And take it easy.”

“I’m trying. I’m trying.”

They inched along. Each car behind them eventually passed, giving Annie a wide berth. Trent figured that was a wise decision. He tugged at his seat belt to make sure it was secure. He might require its services today.

They made erratic progress, and Trent reached for his hanky to mop his brow. He hadn’t perspired this much since the last time he pitched hay!

“I saw you wipe your forehead. Am I making you nervous?”

“Of course not,” he lied.

“Well, I’m making me nervous. And the babies are unusually quiet. They’re probably scared.”