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I’d prefer to know about school trips, making a volcano with coke and mentos, or sports days. Anything better than more work.
My house was more silent than expected, but it was lunchtime on a Wednesday. My kids were at school, and the guys were on the ground. I hadn’t expected Sarah, my dearest friend and sometimes babysitter, to come to the office with a shocking—and worrying report.
“They didwhat?” I stared at Sarah, not believing what she had to say about my daughters. I shook my head. “Are you sure they almost set the hay thresher onfire?”
“Yep, right before they almost flooded the place,” Sarah Lakes twisted her lips wryly while bushing her dark hair from her forehead.
“Who was the ringleader, Sam or Harper?” I asked. At eight, Harper was only two years younger than Sam, but my youngest could be very devious when she wanted to be. “I have to put a strike under their name this time.”
“This time, Sam,” she replied.
I sighed; this was not the news I had wanted to hear. Sam was my oldest, and she started to act out at ten.
“Christ,” I huffed while tugging my suit jacket off and loosening my tie. “How bad was the damage?”
“None,” she replied. “Ben caught them right before it got serious.”
“Oh, thank God,” I replied, mentally noting to give Ben another raise. “I’ll talk to her, to them, when they get home. Thanks for telling me, Sarah.”
“Any time.” She smiled. “Dinners at five. I hope that exotic food has not turned your stomach from homegrown.”
I laughed. “Heck no. Nothin’ beats a good old steak dinner for me.”
“Glad to know.” Sarah laughed as she left the office, and I rolled my neck before reaching for the file on top of the five-inch pile.
Flipping it open, I made to look over it but then stopped—and my mind flew back to Rayna. I shivered again because, damn, that woman had rocked my world and yanked the ground from under me.
Countless times in the last month had I been tempted to go to San Antonio and find her—but then, I stopped. What would happen after we spent another night together if it had gotten that far? What was to say she was still single and willing to mingle?
“Bad idea, ol’ boy,” I murmured, forcing my eyes on the paper. “Just keep it movin’.”
I grabbed a pen and began making notes, thinking about how to approach Sam later. Sam had been acting out lately, and I wasn’t sure what had caused it or what I’d have to do to cure it.
Well—I looked at the clock on the wall and noted the time—I had a few hours to figure it out.
* * *
I headed upstairs to my daughters’ rooms when I realized Sam and Harper were home. They had a full suite in their rooms, each with a full suite bathroom, but the problem was, their rooms were only divided—or connected, if you wanted to think of it that way—by a single door. It made it easier for them to conspire together.
I got to Sam’s room first, knocked twice, and stepped inside, “Samantha,” I said sternly.
Her tawny head jerked up from the book in her hand, and I saw panic flash across her face enough to let my frustration simmer slightly. God, she looked so much like her late mother. It hurt me a little. Only this time, she was not going to be like her mother.
Over my dead body, was she going to make the mistake we had. She would not end up with an unplanned pregnancy and a shotgun wedding. Hell, she might not even have a boyfriend until she was twenty-one.
“Sam,” I said, “Go get your sister and return here. We need to talk.”
“Yes, Daddy,” she replied, sliding off the bed and moving to the door between the room and slipping through it.
While she was gone, I turned to the large photo of me, two-year-old Sam on their ma’s lap, and baby Harper in my arms. “Emily, you’ve got to help me here.”
When Harper and Sam came in, both heads were bowed, eyes on their shoes, and they looked like prisoners on death row. It was hard to be harsh with them, but they had nearly destroyed an expensive piece of equipment, topped it off by nearly flooding the place, and damn almost killed themselves.
“Which of you two wants to start telling me what happened with the thresher?” I asked, looking at Harper, who started to show the facial tics she always had when her secrets were bubbling up. My youngest could not keep a secret to save her life. Sam, on the other hand, was Fort Knox.
Neither of them uttered a word, and I waited to see if it was guilt kicking in or if they had planned to be quiet. They didn’t speak at all, and I sighed. “Do you girls know what happens when you go to court? If a plaintiff shows up without the defendant, the judge will likely give the default judgment against you, which might go from fines to being put in jail, and since you two do not want to defend yourselves, jail it is,” I said, looking into Sam’s eyes. She shifted her gaze away. “Sam, you’re grounded for two weeks, no riding or swimming—”
“Dad!” she finally spluttered in defiance.
