SUDDENLY ANNIEâS FATHER
Donât miss this all-time favorite story about finding happiness in unexpected places from New York Times bestselling author Sherryl Woods
Slade Sutton never really thought of himself as a father, but his motherless young daughter was proof to the contrary. So when Annie was suddenly dropped into his lap, Slade knew he needed help. And he'd take it from anyoneâexcept, that is, the infuriatingly flirtatious Val Harding. Why, if Slade wasn't careful, that little lady would have him roped and tied before he knew it.
Sure, Val knew a challenge when she saw oneâand ex-rodeo star Slade clearly qualified. But somehow she saw through his tough demeanor to the irresistible cowboy at heart. Now if she could just convince Slade that they were all meant to be together...
Slade Sutton knew a whole lot about horses, but he didnât know a blasted thing about females. The only woman with whom heâd ever risked his heart had damn near killed him in a car crash, then divorced him when he could not longer win rodeo championships. Worse, sheâd left him with a daughter who was a total mystery to him.
Annie was ten-going-on-thirty, wise beyond her years, clever as the dickens and the prettiest little girl heâd ever seen, even if he was a mite biased on the subject. While heâd been on the circuit, theyâd been apart more than theyâd been together, which had left both of them as wary as if theyâd been strangers.
Ever since the accident and Suzanneâs desertion, Annie had been living with his parents, but he knew the time was fast approaching when he would no longer be able to shirk his responsibilities. Heâd begun dreading every phone call, knowing that most spelled trouble. Annie had a knack for it, and his parentsâ level of tolerance was slipping. He could hear it in their tired voices. Heâd been making excuses for weeks now for not going home for a visit. Heâd half feared theyâd sneak Annie into his truck on his way out of town. Every night he prayed sheâd stay out of mischief just a little longer, just until he could get his bearings in this new job.
Of course, heâd been working for Harlan and Cody Adams for nearly a year now at White Pines, caring for their horses, setting up a breeding program, breaking the yearlings. He could hardly claim he was still getting settled, but he dreaded the day when his parents called him on it.
He studied the picture of Annie that he kept on his bedside table and shook his head in wonder. How had he had any part in producing a child so beautiful, so delicately feminine? He lived in a rough-and-tumble world. She looked like a fairy-tale princess, a little angel.
Judging from the reports heâd been receiving, however, looks could be deceiving. Annie was as spirited as any bronco heâd ever ridden. She charged at life full throttle and, like him, she didnât know the meaning of fear.
The phone on the bunkhouse wall rang, cutting into his wandering thoughts. Hardy Jones grabbed for it. Hardy had more women chasing after him than a Hollywood movie star. It had become a joke around the ranch. No one saw much use to Hardyâs pretense of living in the bunkhouse, when he never spent a night in his bed there. And no one besides Hardy ever jumped for the phone.
âHey, Slade, itâs for you,â the cowboy called out, looking disappointed.
Trepidation stirred in Sladeâs gut as he crossed the room. It had to be trouble. Annie had been too much on his mind today. That was a surefire sign that something was going on over in Wilderâs Glen, Texas.
Sure enough, it was his father, sounding grim.
âDadgumit, Slade, youâre going to have to come and get your daughter,â Harold Sutton decreed without wasting much time on idle chitchat.
Much as he wanted to ignore it, even Slade could hear the desperation in his fatherâs voice. He sighed. âWhatâs Annie done now?â
âAside from falling out of a tree and breaking her wrist, climbing on the roof and darn near bringing down the chimney, I suppose you could say sheâs having a right peaceful summer,â his father said. âBut sheâs a handful, Son, and your mama and I just canât cope with her anymore. Weâve been talking it over for a while now. Weâre too dadgum old for this. We donât have the kind of energy it takes to keep up with her.â
Sladeâs father was an ex-marine and had his own garage. He put in ten hours a day there and played golf every chance he got. His mother gardened, canned vegetables, made quilts and belonged to every single organization in Wilderâs Glen. Slade wasnât buying the idea that they couldnât keep up with a ten-year-old. Annie had just stretched their patience, that was all. It had to be.