Renegade Father

Thorny tendrils of pain converged behind her eyes, then snaked out in every direction throughout her head, threatening to crush the life out of any coherent thought she might have.

“Well, he is a little brat,” Leah snapped. “I’m sick and tired of him always butting in where he doesn’t belong.”

“This discussion is about you, young lady. This is the third phone call I’ve received from the school this month. You’re seriously in danger of flunking algebra if we don’t do something about it.”

“What do I care?” Leah studied purple fingernails resting on the kitchen table, her mouth set in heavy, sullen lines. “Mr. Sandoval’s a dork.”

“He’s a concerned teacher who cares enough about you and your grade to call me and inform me you’re still not turning in your assignments.”

“So what?”

“So you lied to me, for starters. You told me you’ve been finishing all your work in study hall.”

“Algebra’s stupid.”

“I like math,” C.J. piped in.

“That’s because you’re stupid, too.”

“Leah, that’s enough,” Annie snapped again, feeling whatever shreds of patience she had been clinging to disappear as the headache began to writhe down her spine. “Apologize to your brother.”

“I’m sorry you’re stupid.” Leah smirked.

With his innate sense of self-preservation, C.J. stuck his tongue out at his sister, grabbed a chocolate-chip cookie out of the boot-shaped jar on the counter, and headed for the family room.

Annie refrained from pointing out they would be eating in just a few minutes—she wasn’t up to another battle, especially when his exit left her alone with the twelve-year-old daughter she barely knew anymore.

She hated this. Absolutely hated it. Leah used to be so sweet and good-natured, always eager to please, with a kind word for everyone. In the months since Charlie left she’d turned into this moody little monster with an attitude to match. She closed herself off in her room every day after school and shunned all of her mother’s attempts to get to the root of the behavioral changes.

This guilt didn’t help matters. Annie pinched at the bridge of her nose again.

She’d like to think this constant defiance was just a natural part of growing up, just Leah testing her boundaries as she prepared for teenagedom in a few months. But she couldn’t help wondering if her daughter was reacting out of latent rage and hurt at her, if somehow she had completely warped her daughter’s psyche by putting up with Charlie for so long.

She couldn’t think that way. Or at least she couldn’t let her guilt over her own weakness affect her treatment of her daughter.

“You’re grounded.” She tried not to grind her teeth at the pain in her head or at the pain in her heart. “For lying to me and for not taking care of your responsibilities. You won’t be able to go to Brittany’s birthday party this weekend or to any other activities with your friends until you’re completely caught up in school—not just in algebra but in language arts and social studies as well.

“And,” she went on, knowing this was a much worse punishment to her daughter than curtailing her social activities, “you’ve lost your riding privileges starting right now. Stardust is now off-limits until you manage to bring your grades up.”

Leah’s mouth dropped open and her eyes narrowed into a killing glare, though her lips quivered like she wanted to cry. “That completely reeks! Stardust is my horse. I raised her. You can’t keep me from riding her!”

“Watch me.” Annie turned back to add spaghetti to the now-boiling water on the stove and to hide the quiver in her own lips.

“This is so not fair! I hate you!” Leah cried, then stomped up the stairs to her bedroom. A few seconds later, her door slammed shut with a resounding crack that echoed through the house, making Annie flinch.

“Uh-oh. Rough day?”

She glanced toward the mudroom to find Joe’s broad shoulders filling the doorway, his hands rubbing the woven band on his Stetson. She had a fierce, powerful urge to fall into his arms, to bury her face in the folds of that soft chamois shirt and weep for the daughter she didn’t know how to reach anymore.

But her days of leaning were done. Joe was leaving and she would have to stand on her own two feet.

“How long have you been there?”

“Long enough to hear you ban her from that horse of hers.”

“You think it’s too harsh?”

He was silent for several seconds. The only sound in the kitchen was the ticking of the clock above the refrigerator and the burbling coming from the pots on the stove. “I think it’s probably the only punishment that would mean a thing to her,” he finally said. “She loves that horse more than just about anything.”

“I had to do something. She’s going to have to repeat the seventh grade if I don’t.”

“She doesn’t really hate you. You know that, don’t you?”

If she did, it would be no less than Annie deserved. For most of her daughter’s life, their home hadn’t been the safe haven every child deserves but a place of prolonged tension and then sharp, sudden outbursts of temper. Why shouldn’t Leah hate her for the choices she’d made?

The hell of it was, if she had it all to do over again, she would probably make the same choices.

She glanced up to find Joe studying her, expecting an answer. Since she couldn’t very well tell him her thoughts, she just nodded. “I know she doesn’t hate me,” she said, without conviction.

He looked like he wanted to pursue it, but to her relief, he changed the subject. “Have you told the kids about my new job?”

The new job. The reminder sent fresh pain slithering to the base of her skull.

She shook her head, wincing a little at the movement, while she pulled out a fragrant loaf of garlic bread from the oven. “You’re the one leaving. You’re the one who can break the news.”

He frowned at her shortness. “Annie—”

“This is almost ready. Where’s the rest of the crew?” She cut him off, not wanting to hear more apologies or explanations.

A muscle flexed in his jaw but he let the matter rest. “Patch was just about finished in the barn and I think Ruben and Manny are right behind me.”

“What about Luke?”

“I think he went back to the trailer to get gussied up for you. Said something about putting on a clean shirt.”

She looked up from stirring the spaghetti sauce, just in time to catch his rare grin. She gazed at it, at him.

The smile softened the harsh lines of his features, etching lines along the edges of his mouth and the corners of his eyes. He was beautiful, in a raw, elemental way with those glittering black eyes fringed by long, thick eyelashes, that sensual mouth and that coppery skin from his Shoshone heritage stretched over high cheekbones.

She blinked, suddenly breathless. “Don’t tease him, Joe. He gets enough from the rest of the men.”

“He wouldn’t if the kid didn’t make it so easy for us. He follows you around like he’s a puppy dog and you’re a big ol’ juicy bone he wants to sink his teeth into.”

“He does not.” She felt her face flush from more than just the heat rising off the pans on the stove.

She was very much afraid Joe was right, that their newest ranch hand made it painfully obvious to everyone he had a crush on her. She had done her best to discourage him but he seemed oblivious to all her gentle hints. If it was causing problems between him and the rest of the help, she was going to have to be more stern.

“Does so.” Joe flashed another of those rare grins. “We practically have to lift the boy’s tongue off the floor every time he looks at you.”