“I don’t trust her, okay?” he said, his frustration returning. “She’s already threatened to run away. If I leave her at home, the minute I’m out of sight, I’m afraid she’ll haul butt.”
Stephanie glanced toward the truck and tried not to wring her hands. “I don’t know, Wade,” she said uneasily. “What if she pulls a stunt while she’s here? I wouldn’t know what to do.”
“You can call me. I’ve got my cell.” Before she could think of another excuse or alternative to offer, he turned for his truck.
“Wade!” she cried, reaching out a hand as if to stop him.
But it was too late. He already had the passenger door open and a young girl was climbing down. Petite and with long blond hair styled with the sides pulled up and gathered into a clip at the crown of her head, she didn’t look like the kind of person who would get expelled from school. She looked more like one of the little girls that came to Stephanie’s door selling Girl Scout cookies…or at least she did until Wade took her arm and started her toward the house, and Stephanie got a look at the belligerent expression on her face.
Stephanie gulped once, then gulped again. She’d thought she didn’t want to meet Wade’s daughter before. Now she was sure of it.
Stephanie led the way into the den. “Would you like something to drink?”
Meghan dropped down on the sofa in a slouch. “I’m not thirsty.”
Racking her brain to think what to do with the child, Stephanie saw the remote for the TV and reached for it. “How about watching some television?”
“Whatever.”
Irritated by the girl’s surly attitude, Stephanie slapped the remote on the coffee table in front of her. “Well, here’s the remote, if you decide to. I’ll be in the back, packing. If you need anything, you can find me there.”
Halfway down the hall, she heard the TV click on, followed by spurts of different sounds as Meghan surfed through the channels. “Delinquent,” she muttered under her breath. No wonder the child had been expelled from school. With an attitude like hers, it was amazing she was allowed to attend at all.
As she passed her bedroom door, she heard the musical peal of her cell phone and ducked inside to retrieve it from the bedside table. Checking the display, she smiled when she recognized Kiki’s number.
“Hey, Kiki,” she said, bringing the phone to her ear. “How’s motherhood?”
“Don’t ask. When are you coming home? I don’t know how much longer I can take all this togetherness before I start tearing out my hair.”
Laughing, Stephanie sank down on the edge of her bed. “What have the twins done now?”
“What haven’t they done,” Kiki shot back, then heaved a weary sigh. “I don’t want to talk about the twins. It’s too depressing. Tell me what you’re doing.”
Stephanie cast an uneasy glance toward the door, then stood and tiptoed to her bathroom. “Babysitting a juvenile delinquent,” she whispered as she closed the door behind her.
“What? Speak up. I can’t hear you.”
“Babysitting a juvenile delinquent,” she whispered a little louder.
“Who?”
“Wade’s daughter.”
“What!”
Being as Kiki was one of only a handful of people in Dallas who knew about Stephanie’s past relationship with Wade, Stephanie could understand her friend’s shock. “I know. Crazy, isn’t it?”
“Does this mean you and Wade are…?”
She sagged down onto the commode seat. “I don’t know what we are,” she said miserably. “We’ve established a truce of sorts, but—” She glanced at the door, then turned her head toward the tub, fearing Meghan might be able to hear her, and said in a low voice, “His daughter’s a problem.”
“Because she’s a juvenile delinquent?”
She frowned, a visual of Meghan’s belligerent expression popping into her mind. “That, too,” she muttered, then sighed. “But can you imagine what it would be like to have to look at her every day and know, if not for her, Wade and I would be married right now?”
“Did you tell Wade that?”
“Yes.”
“Please, God,” Kiki begged, “tell me you didn’t.”
Stephanie frowned at the dread in Kiki’s voice. “Of course I did. There was no point in lying.”
“Oh, no,” Kiki moaned, then cried, “Steph, what were you thinking? That’s his daughter, for cripes’ sake! You can’t tell a parent something like that. It’s the same as telling him his child is ugly!”
“It is not,” Stephanie replied defensively. “Besides, Wade knows she’s not perfect. Heck, she was expelled from school! That’s why he brought her over here in the first place.”
“It doesn’t matter,” Kiki argued. “A parent can think or say anything they want to about his kid, but let someone else make a derogatory comment, and that same parent will fight to the death to defend the kid.”
Stephanie caught her lip between her teeth. She knew that she’d hurt Wade’s feelings with her refusal to meet his daughter, but what other choice had she had? He’d asked her to marry him. There was no way she could have refused his proposal without telling him why.
“He understood,” she said, trying to convince herself it was true.
“Uh-huh,” Kiki said doubtfully. “I’ll just bet he did.”
“He did,” she insisted, then pushed to her feet and crossed to the window to look out. “I told him that maybe in time I would feel differently. There’s still so much that he and I have to work through. Everything is so new, so—” Her eyes flipped wide and she whipped the drape back for a better view. “Oh, my God!” she cried, then whirled for the door. “Kiki, I’ve got to go.”
“Why? What’s wrong?”
“Meghan’s running away!”
Before Kiki could ask any more questions, Stephanie tossed the phone onto the bed and ran out of her room, down the hall.
Once outside, she broke into a full run. “Meghan!” she shouted, racing after the girl. “Where do you think you’re going?”
Meghan glanced back over her shoulder, her eyes wide in alarm, then took off at a run. Stephanie raced after her. “Meghan, stop!” she yelled.
Meghan stumbled, fell, then scrambled to her feet and ran again. Her fall, coupled with the awkward backpack she was carrying, gave Stephanie the edge she needed to close the distance between them.
With her lungs burning, her arms pumping like pistons, she knew she had only one chance to stop the girl. She dived, tackling Meghan around the legs and bringing her down.
Meghan twisted beneath her, trying to fight free. “Let me go!”
Gasping, Stephanie rocked back on her heels but kept a firm grip on Meghan’s arm. “Uh-uh. You’re staying right here with me.”
“You can’t tell me what to do,” Meghan yelled angrily. “You’re not my mother.”
“Thank heaven for that,” Stephanie muttered under her breath, then gave Meghan’s arm a yank and all but dragged her back to the house.
By the time they reached the porch, Meghan was sobbing. Setting her jaw against the heartbreaking sound, Stephanie marched her into the house and to the den. She released Meghan’s arm and pointed a stiff finger at the sofa. “Sit.”
Sniffling, Meghan flopped down on the sofa.
Stephanie yanked tissues from the box on the coffee table and pushed them into the girl’s hand. “I don’t know where you thought you were going, but I’m telling you right now that you better not pull that stunt again. Understand?”
Her chin on her chest, Meghan sniffed, nodded, then lifted her head. “Are you going to tell my dad?” she asked hesitantly.
It was Stephanie’s first real good look at the child. Though dirt and tears smeared her face, she could see that she was pretty. White-blond hair hung past her shoulders and framed an oval face. Her eyes, the color of roasted chestnuts, were large, and her tear-spiked lashes were thick and long. In spite of her desire not to, Stephanie found herself searching for a resembla
nce to Wade but found nothing in the child’s features that even remotely reminded her of Wade.
“Are you?” Meghan prodded.
Stephanie firmed her lips, refusing to be suckered by the girl’s puppy-dog look. “Your father entrusted you to my care. Your running away makes me look irresponsible, incompetent, and I don’t think that’s fair, do you?”
Meghan hung her head. “No, ma’am,” she murmured.
Stephanie didn’t know if the child’s contriteness was an act to draw pity or if she really did feel badly for what she’d done. Whatever her reasons, Stephanie wasn’t about to take a chance on her running away again.
“As punishment for disobeying your father’s instructions, you’re going to help me.”
“What do I have to do?”
“Pack.” Stephanie motioned for Meghan to follow her. “I’ve been going through the linen closet,” she said tersely as she led the way down the hall. “I’ve already—” Realizing that Meghan wasn’t following, she turned to look behind her and saw that Meghan had stopped in front of her parents’ bedroom. “Meghan?” she said in frustration. “What are you doing?”
The girl turned to look at her, and Stephanie was shocked to see that her eyes were filled with tears again.
“What’s wrong?” she asked in concern.
Meghan dragged a hand beneath her eyes. “It’s just that I haven’t been here since Mr. Calloway died and I guess I forgot for a minute, ’cause I expected to see him lying in his bed.”
Stephanie gulped, knowing that this was no act. No one could fake the depth of sadness she saw reflected in the child’s eyes. “Yeah, I know,” she said as she walked to stand with her. “Sometimes I catch myself listening for him, especially around dinnertime.”
Sliding an arm around the girl, she urged her away from the door and down the hall. “Did you visit him very often?” she asked, hoping to distract the girl from the image that must surely be stuck in her mind of Bud lying sick in bed.
Meghan lifted a shoulder. “Not too much after he got sick.” She pursed her lips. “Daddy was afraid I’d wear him out with my talking.”
Chuckling, Stephanie removed a stack of linens from the floor, then sat down on the floor, her back to the wall, and patted the space next to her. “Have a seat,” she invited.
Meghan sank down with a youthful ease that Stephanie couldn’t help envying.
“So you’re a talker, huh?” Stephanie said as she began to sort through the stack of pillowcases.
Meghan stretched her legs out in front of her and tapped the tip of her tennis shoes together. “Daddy seems to think so.”
“I guess you knew my mother, too,” Stephanie said, curious to discover how well Wade’s daughter knew her parents.
“Yeah. When I was little, sometimes she would keep me when I was too sick to go to school and Daddy had something he needed to do.” She plucked absently at a thread on her jeans. “When I had chicken pox, I was itching real bad, and she made me an oatmeal bath to soak in. She was always doing nice things like that.”
Stephanie had to swallow back emotion before she could reply, ashamed of the resentment she’d felt toward her mother. “Yes, she had a kind heart.” Forcing a smile, she picked up one of the stacks of pillowcases she had sorted and passed it to Meghan. “These go in that box over there,” she said, pointing. “The one marked Donate.”
Hopping up, Meghan moved to place the linens in the box, then returned to sit at Stephanie’s side again.
Feeling the child’s stare, Stephanie glanced over at her. “What?”
“I was just wondering how come I’ve never seen you before.”
Stephanie quickly looked away. “Well,” she said, stalling while she tried to think of a plausible explanation to offer. “I live in Dallas and own a business there. It keeps me pretty busy.”
“What kind of business?”
“I’m a photo stylist.”
Meghan wrinkled her brow. “What’s that?”
Stephanie set the linens she held on her lap, wondering how best to describe her job to a young girl. “You know the advertisements you see in magazines? The ones that have photographs?”
“Yeah.”
“I set the scenes for the pictures. I gather all the props, set everything up, then the photographer—and the models, if any are needed—come in and the photographer takes the pictures.”
Meghan stared, her eyes wide in wonder. “How cool is that!”
Stephanie chuckled. “It is a cool job. But it can also be a royal pain in the patootee.”
“Patootee?” Meghan repeated, then fell over on the floor, laughing. “That’s the lamest word I’ve ever heard.”
Stephanie lifted a brow. “Beats getting my mouth washed out with soap for using the more popular expression.”
Her eyes rounding, Meghan pushed up to her elbows. “You mean, Mrs. Calloway washed your mouth out with soap?”
“She certainly did,” Stephanie said with a decisive nod. “But it only took twice before I learned not to say words that she didn’t approve of.”
“Wow.”
Amused by the girl’s shocked look, Stephanie shook her head and reached for another stack of linens. “So what’s your punishment for saying bad words?”
Meghan blinked, then shrugged. “There’s not one.”
Stephanie gave her a sideways glance. “Oh, please. Surely your father doesn’t allow you to say curse words.”
“He doesn’t exactly allow me to curse, but if I slip and say something I shouldn’t in front of him, he just gives me a mean look and says, ‘You better watch your mouth, young lady.’”
Her impersonation of Wade was so funny Stephanie couldn’t help but laugh. “Maybe I should give him some pointers I picked up from my mother.”
Meghan grimaced. “Yeah, like he could be any meaner. He rags on me all the time about the way I dress and the music I listen to. And I don’t dare have the channel turned to MTV when he’s at home. If I do, he goes ballistic.”
Stephanie drew back to peer at her, unsure whether she should believe her or not. “That doesn’t sound like the Wade I know.”
“You know my daddy?”
Realizing her mistake, Stephanie looked away and busied herself straightening linens. “He moved to the ranch next door while I was in college,” she replied vaguely.
“Do you know my mom, too?”
It was all Stephanie could do to remain upright. “No, I’ve never met your mother. I was living in Dallas when your parents married.”
“Oh,” Meghan said, sounding disappointed.
Anxious to change the subject, Stephanie asked, “Are you thirsty?” She heaved herself up from the floor. “I know I am. Let’s get a soda.”
“Okay.”
Stephanie led the way to the kitchen, with Meghan following close on her heels. Just as she stepped inside, the back door opened and Wade walked in.
“Well, hi,” she said in surprise. “Meghan and I were about to have a soda. Would you like one?”
“Maybe next time.” He tipped his head, indicating his daughter. “Did she give you any trouble?”
Stephanie glanced down and met Meghan’s gaze. Seeing the girl’s fear, she gave her a reassuring smile. “Nothing I couldn’t handle.”
Wade shifted his gaze between the two, his expression doubtful, then heaved a sigh and motioned for Meghan to join him. “Come on,” he said, already turning for the door. “We need to go.”
“Couldn’t I stay here with Stephanie?” Meghan asked. “I was helping her pack.”
“No, we’ve got—” He hesitated a moment, then said, “Company waiting.”
Meghan’s eyes lit with hope. “Mom’s here?”
Wade pushed through the door and stepped outside without answering.
Meghan let out an excited squeal and ran after him. At the door she stopped and glanced back. “Thanks for not ratting me out.”
Stephanie leveled a finger at her in warning. “Just don’t make
me regret it.”
Meghan grinned. “I won’t,” she said, then charged out the door, shouting, “Hey, Dad! Wait for me!”
Stephanie tried not to think about Wade’s ex being at his house.
But it was hopeless. Every time she pushed the thought from her mind, it dug a new hole and came crawling back in. Deciding that a nice hot bath was what she needed to get Wade’s ex off her mind, she headed for her bathroom and turned on the tap. She was stripping off her clothes when her cell phone rang. Grabbing a towel to drape around her, she hurried into the bedroom to answer it.
“Hello,” she said breathlessly.
“Were you just going to leave me hanging?”
She winced at the annoyance in Kiki’s voice. “Sorry. I’ve been sort of busy.”
“So did the runaway make good her escape?”
Remembering she’d left the water running in the bathroom, Stephanie retraced her steps. “No. I caught her. But I had to tackle her from behind and drag her to the ground to stop her.”
“You’ve got to be kidding!” Kiki cried, then hooted a laugh. “Oh, to have been a fly on the wall and seen that.”
Rather proud of her accomplishment, Stephanie buffed her nails against her chest. “It was a clever save, even if I do say so myself.”
“Congratulations. Now tell me the good stuff. Why did Wade bring her to you, of all people? Does she know about you and Wade? Did she say anything about her mother? I want the dirt, so start shoveling.”
Shaking her head at her friend’s outrageousness, Stephanie squirted bath oil beneath the tap. “Has anyone ever told you that you’re nosy?”
“Daily. Now spill.”
Stephanie tested the water, then dropped the towel and climbed in. “I don’t know why Wade brought her here, but I’d guess it was because he had nowhere else to take her. He was in the middle of vaccinating his cattle and couldn’t keep an eye on her himself.”
“Why didn’t he just leave her at home? Good grief. Surely the kid’s old enough to stay by herself.”
“She is,” Stephanie agreed. “But he doesn’t trust her. He said she’d threatened to run away.”
“Wow. I thought you were exaggerating when you said you were babysitting a juvenile delinquent. Obviously you were being serious.”
A Piece of Texas Trilogy Page 10