Most Wanted Dad
Evans Kincaid's daughter was growing up too fast. Raising a girl alone wasn't easy, and lately Mattie's wild makeup and taste in clothes had the police officer seeing red. But when the woman next door called the cops about Mattie's deafening radio, it was the last straw for Evans!How was Amy Slater to know that her new neighbor was a cop–and that he'd be the one to respond to her call! Now the sexy single dad was asking her advice about his daughter, but soon Amy wanted to be much more than a part-time mom….
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Dear Mattie,
My little girl is growing up. You probably think that I havenât noticed, and itâs true that I donât really want to face it, but can you blame me? Youâre all Iâve had since your mother died. I canât believe I would even have survived the loss without my darling daughter. But I know that I canât hold you too close. Somehow I have to learn to let you go. Otherwise, Iâm sure to lose you. How could I bear that? Already I wonder if I know you sometimes. I ask myself, is that my girl beneath all the makeup and the wild hair? Then I do something foolish, and the young lady who puts me in my place has an uncanny twinkle in her eye, and thereâs my Mattie, droll and sweet and loving. I miss her sometimes, and yet I know that we have to find our way together to a new kind of relationship, adult to adult. Be patient with me, Mattie. Iâm trying. Iâm praying for help. The one thing I beg you always to remember is that I love you and always will.
Dad
ARLENE JAMES
says, âCamp meetings, mission work and church attendance permeate my Oklahoma childhood memories. It was a golden time, which sustains me yet. However, only as a young widowed mother did I truly begin growing in my personal relationship with the Lord. Through adversity He has blessed me in countless ways, one of which is a second marriage so loving and romantic it still feels like courtship!â
The author of more than sixty novels, Arlene James now resides outside Fort Worth, Texas, with her beloved husband. Her need to write is greater than ever, a fact that frankly amazes her, as sheâs been at it since the eighth grade! She loves to hear from readers, and can be reached at 1301 E. Debbie Lane, Suite 102, Box 117, Mansfield, Texas 76063, or via her Web site at www.arlenejames.com.
Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter One
It was rude. It was nerve-racking. It was decidedly unneighborly. To an inveterate smoker who hadnât had a cigarette in nine hours, it was utterly unbearable. No one had answered the door when she had knocked, not that anyone inside that house could have heard anything above the racket booming from what must have been a very impressive set of stereo speakers.
Amy clenched her teeth and pushed her hands through her hair. The new neighbors hadnât been in the house next door a full week yet; she hadnât even laid eyes on any of them, and already she was regretting that theyâd ever moved in. She covered her ears with her hands, wondering how anyone could label that shrieking din âmusic,â and considered her alternatives.
She could sit here in her own home huddled in misery, and slowly go insane. She could have a smoke. She could go somewhere else. She could call the police.
No course of action held any appeal, but the last seemed the least objectionable, since it didnât require her to actually get dressed and leave her house at two oâclock in the morning. In truth, the idea would have been no less offensive if it had been two oâclock in the afternoon. Amy liked staying home. She liked her TV programs. She liked her solitude. She liked her cigarettes. But smoking was not an option, however much she wished it was. She had promised her little niece, Danna, that she would quit, and for some reason, a promise to Danna seemed inviolable. Moreover, it was a reason that Amy did not wish to explore or clarify. After all, children had no place in her life. She and Mark had decided that long ago. Mark.
Mark would have known how to handle this situation without resorting to the police. Mark would have strolled over there and charmed the socks off whoever had the audacity to crank up that stereo to such deafening levels. Mark would have had the culprit humming Sinatra and lip-synching Streisand. Markâ¦who had been her life, who had suffered and died, leaving her so very alone.
It had been over two-and-a-half years since his death, and everyone told her that she was supposed to âbe over itâ by now, but she missed him still. And yet, something had changed. For a long time she had considered her purpose in life to grieve her husband. Before that she had known that her purpose was to be with him, to make him happy. Now she didnât know what she was supposed to be about. She only knew that the blaring music from next door was about to split her skull, that she was going to go mad if something wasnât done and that it was up to her to do it, because Mark was gone forever. She reached for the telephone. Moments later she was explaining the situation to a dispatcher at the Duncan Police Department.
âThatâs right, the next to the last house on the end of the streetâ¦. No, thereâs nothing on the other side, just an empty field, and the racket is coming from the last houseâ¦. Yes, and please hurry. Iâm not feeling wellâ¦. No, I donât need an ambulance, just some peace and quietâ¦. Thank you.â
