Pride can work against you -- especially if it prevents you
from breaking free of guilt over events from your past --
events that were beyond your control. Being stoic is
commendable but silence often leads to misconceptions of
indifference or worse. Sam Robertson's life was filled with
hurt and disappointment, but he was doing his best to
overcome past mistakes and was now a valued member of his
small close knit town. But it seemed his past was once again
catching up to him. This time in the form of a surprise
visit by his ex-wife Ronnie who left behind an
unexpected gift -- his four-year-old daughter Becky -- a
child he hadn't known existed.
When Ronnie up and left him
five years ago, he had to deal with anger, hurt and, if
were honest with himself, relief. It was just another
chapter of a life seemingly filled with bad decisions and
regrets. But the lovely little girl sitting in his home, a
virtual stranger enchanted him and at the same time scared
him to death. Just how was he supposed to care for a four
year old and then he realized this special child was deaf.
Never one to back down from challenges and
responsibility, his first step was to apply to the court for
official custody. But the surprises didn't end there as
another person appeared on his doorstep -- his
ex-sister-in-law Kayla who planned to take Becky back home.
It would seem Ronnie had made a habit of dropping off her
young daughter without notice and taking off for long
stretches of time. But Kayla couldn't understand why Ronnie
would leave Becky with the ex-husband who she had claimed
was indifferent, uncaring, and abusive. Surely Ronnie was
under duress and Kayla was determined to do everything in
her power to get Becky back -- even face the judge and file
her own petition for custody. Kayla's image of Sam was built
on the lies fabricated by her sister -- and before she could
start to trust him she had to open her eyes and
accept that fact.
Sam was the strong silent type who mastered the art of non-
communication and built an almost impervious wall of pride
surrounding him -- easier and safer to remain silent then
risk getting hurt opening up to anyone. But that was the
key to any relationship and Sam desired one with Becky and
Kayla -- could love finally breach those walls?
This is a heartwarming tale about the importance of
communication between people in any relationship. The story
is an extraordinary narrative incorporating sign language
enabling Becky to speak her mind and dialog with
those around her. Instead of making Becky silent -- White
Daille gave her a voice, and what a voice she had.
Reminiscent of Catherine Anderson and Deborah Smith who
often give special people great voices -- Barbara White
Daille can add me to her fans.
Sam Robertson's life just changed. In one short day, he
found out that he's a daddy; that his beautiful little girl,
Becky, is deaf; and that her aunt, sign language teacher
Kayla Ward, intends to fight him for custody.
There are plenty of reasons Sam shouldn't fall for Kayla. A
city girl like her has no place on his ranch, particularly
when she's his ex-wife's gorgeous sister. But thanks to the
judge's orders, Sam's spending a lot of time with Kayla,
trying to give Becky the stable home she's never known.
Despite their ongoing custody battle, Sam and Kayla's love
for Becky brings them closer than they ever expected, and
Sam knows that no matter who wins in court, he could still
lose—Kayla or his daughter.
Excerpt
The minute Sam Robertson saw his mother's frozen expression,
he knew something terrible had happened. He hadn't seen that
look on Sharleen's face since the night his daddy died.
He tossed his Stetson onto the hook by the kitchen door and
crossed the room to where she sat at the table. The
mouthwatering smell of beef and vegetables came from a
bubbling pot of stew on the stove. He was home later than
normal, but the table wasn't yet set for their supper. "Mom?
What is it? What's wrong?"
She shook her head for a second, as if she couldn't speak.
Lines crinkled the skin around her blue eyes. She looked
about ten years older than when he'd left for the north
pasture early that morning.
"What's going on?" he asked.
"Sam?" She cleared her throat and started again. "Ronnie was
here."
"Ronnie?" He frowned. He hadn't seen his ex-wife in five
years. If things had worked the way he wanted, he'd have
never heard her name again. "What did she want after all
this time? Just stopping by to say hello?"
"She said she's settling down again. With another man."
"That's what has you upset? You should know better."
Sam laughed shortly. "And we should both pity the poor guy.
So, what did she do, come all the way from Chicago to drop
off an invitation to the wedding?"
"No." Sharleen brushed her fingertips across the hair near
her temple.
A nervous gesture he hadn't seen, either, since the months
right after his daddy's death. Whatever the news, she didn't
know how to cope with telling him. How bad could it be? He'd
written his ex out of his life a long time ago. She couldn't
do anything to affect him.
He sank into the chair beside hers. "Come on. Just let me
have it. What did she want?"
Sharleen took a deep breath and let it out slowly. Finally,
she said, "She dropped something off, but not an invitation.
She brought a little girl with her. Four years old. Ronnie
left her here. She said she's your daughter."
"What?" The news rocked him back in the chair.
"That's impossible."
"I'm not sure that it is." He stared at her.
"The child is blonde," she continued. "Like Ronnie. But
she's got your eyes. Your daddy's eyes. She looks like a
Robertson, through and through." She waved toward the arched
doorway. "See for yourself."
After a moment's hesitation, he rose and moved to the door.
He had to brace himself before he could step into the living
room.
Everything looked familiar. The pair of plaid couches facing
each other. The long pine coffee table between them. The
clock ticking away on the mantel. Everything looked
familiar, except the child sitting on one of the couches.
A beautiful little girl.
The daughter he'd always hoped for, the start of the family
he'd never had.
He shook his head. Pipe dreams, for sure. Ronnie had never
told a true story in her life. This child couldn't be his.
She wore a blue T-shirt, white shorts and denim sneakers. In
her arms, she cradled a stuffed tiger. A couple of dolls
rested on the couch alongside her.
As he moved another step into the room, she looked up.
Small and blonde, just as Sharleen had said. And more.
The girl's eyes shone in the light from the table lamp
beside the couch. Silver-gray eyes surrounded by dark
lashes, a perfect match to his own.
His throat tightened. He felt frozen in place.
She gave him a shy smile.
He'd seen that half-twisted grin in plenty of his own
childhood pictures. Not impossible after all. The child was his.
Somehow, after what seemed like hours, he managed to raise
one hand to wave at her. "Hello." The word came out in a
croak. He hadn't the first idea of what to say and went for
the standard opening line. "What's your name?"
Sharleen moved up to stand behind him and rested her hand on
his arm. "Her name's Becky," she told him. "But she can't
hear you, Sam. She's deaf."
From the shadows of the barn doorway the next afternoon, Sam
stole a glance across the yard to where his little girl
played by the back porch steps, unmindful of anything near her.
If he had reason to yell Becky's name, she wouldn't hear
him. If Porter's uncontrollable mutt appeared from the ranch
next door and made a beeline for her, she wouldn't know. If
the house collapsed behind her, she'd never have a
clue—unless she saw the dust cloud kicked up from the
falling debris.
And, worst of all, Sam couldn't explain any of this to her.
He couldn't communicate with his daughter at all. Jack, his
ranch foreman, nodded in Becky's direction. "Look at her,
boss. The girl's taking things in stride."
"Better than I am."
Jack shrugged. "Not every day a man's ex saddles him with a
kid he's not expecting."
"Well, I have her now." His gut tightened every time he
recalled Sharleen's story of how Ronnie had breezed in and
hustled out of the ranch house, waving an over-the-shoulder
goodbye as if she'd done no more than deliver a mail-order
package. What made her do it, after all this time?? He
couldn't hazard a guess. Maybe her soon-to-be husband had a
say in the matter.
"Sharleen's handling things, too," Jack said.
"Yeah. But neither of us is going to be able to cope with a
child who can't talk. Besides, my mother's getting up there,
and a four-year-old's more than she can handle." Especially
this one.
Late-afternoon sunbeams slanted through the cedar trees
edging the yard. Becky ran from a patch of darkness into
light and back again, playing her private, silent game. As
they watched, she stumbled. Sam slapped his hand flat
against the wooden barn door. If she hurt herself, how would
he comfort her?
Geez. Talk about overreacting.
Or was it?
Could he ever keep Becky safe?
His breath caught in a half-strangled hitch. "Damn," he
muttered. "What in hell am I going to do?"
"Take care of the kid," Jack said. Like it was that easy.
Becky settled on the grass and began tugging on a few of the
yellow dandelions Sam never had time to weed. Safe enough
for her there. For the moment.
Take care of her.Right.
Looking out across the yard, he said, "Laying in fence,
breaking a horse, rounding up cattle. Jack, those jobs, you
know I can handle with my eyes closed."
The foreman nodded.
"But this?" How could he take care of a deaf four-year-old
daughter he hadn't, till yesterday, even known existed?
Raising his gaze, he looked as far as he could see, focusing
on the higher pastures and, above them, the ranks of pinon
and pine. Viewing the extent of his ranch usually gave him
pleasure, but right now, even that sight couldn't take him
from his troubles.
"Sam." Jack pointed.
From down the road a ways, a shiny blue four-door sedan
neared the house. The driver pulled in at the front of the
property and climbed out, then slammed the door closed
behind her.
Jack whistled, long and low.
Sam nodded, unsmiling. His ex had soured him on women years
ago. Though he'd finally started thinking about the sweeter
side of them again, Ronnie's visit had sure put paid to any
good thoughts about the so-called fairer sex.
What she'd done hadn't been fair at all.
To him and Sharleen. Or to Becky.
The woman in the driveway wore a bright pink T-shirt. A
skimpy cotton jacket and a brand-new pair of jeans called
attention to curves that even stiff denim couldn't hide.
Sam gave himself a mental shake. You'd think he hadn't seen
a woman since his divorce. Heck, he had plenty of female
friends—even if a good number of them had reached the
age to collect their retirement pay.
"Man," Jack said, "if that's new hired help, she can help me
out anytime."
Sam frowned. "I don't know who she is."
He took one last look at Becky. She had climbed onto the
wooden swing at the far side of the back porch, well out of
sight of anyone out at the road. Sharleen stood nearby
taking windblown sheets off the line.
He crossed the yard and headed toward the front of the house
at a lope, taking in the woman as he neared her. She looked
even better close up. Long, golden-brown hair the color of
honey pine. Eyes the blue of a lake in winter. And those
curves. Whoa.
He'd never seen a vision like this one before, and he knew
every soul in Flagman's Folly.
"I'm Sam Robertson. What can I do for you?"
As she looked at him, those blue eyes froze over.
A warning bell rang somewhere deep in his memory. "Don't I
know you?"
"You should. I'm Kayla Ward."
"As in Ronnie Ward?"
She nodded. "I'm her sister. You don't recognize me?"
He looked closer. His insides tightened and his pulse picked
up. Yeah, he remembered her now, no matter how briefly he'd
seen her the first time they'd crossed paths.
He should have known her instantly. The one and only
time he'd seen her had been branded into his mind. But back
then, her face hadn't mattered to him. It was her actions
that had rocked him. That had stuck with him through the
years. She had helped Ronnie pack up and head out. Had
walked off with his wife and—if only he'd known
it—his daughter.
It would be just like his ex to send her here again,
claiming she'd changed her mind about Becky.
Well, if this woman thought she'd waltz in here and take his
daughter away, she had another think coming.
"What do you want?" he demanded.
She glanced past him toward Jack and the barn. "Can we talk
inside?"
He opened his mouth to snap a negative reply, then shut it
again. Aware that Becky played just around the corner, he
nodded. Better not to let this woman get anywhere near her.
He gestured for Kayla to go ahead of him.
Inside the house, he had to clear their path of a couple of
pillows left on the living room floor. He tossed them onto
the couch. With Becky around, already he'd noticed the
changes in the orderliness of this place. And of his life.
As for the woman in front of him.
Well, he'd take care of this situation the same way he dealt
with trouble on the ranch—one crisis at a time. Only,
lately, it seemed the catastrophes had a way of piling up.
"What do you want?" he repeated.
"I want Becky."
He nodded. "That figures. Ronnie sent you, right? She
changed her mind already?" He laughed scornfully. "She
dumped Becky off on me, in case you didn't know."
"I do know." She reached up, slicked a hank of hair behind
her ear, then clasped her hands together. Every move made it
obvious she was gearing up for something. "I'm here to bring
Becky home again."
"You—" In spite of knowing what she had to be up to,
the words hit him hard. He glared down at her, his jaw
clenched tight. It took effort to speak, and he didn't
bother to keep his tone civil. "Not gonna happen."
No one would ever take his daughter from him again.
"You can't keep her here—"
His harsh laugh cut her off midsentence. "The hell I can't.
Did Ronnie forget to tell you? Or just feed you another one
of her lies? She gave me sole custody of Becky."
A strangled sound came from her, as if someone had
gut-punched every ounce of air from her lungs.
"You didn't know about that, did you?"
For a second, he might've felt sorry for her, the way she
believed in her scheming sister. But the thought of what
Kayla had come here planning to do—and the reminder of
what she had done to him five years ago—drove
all pity from him. "Ronnie will never walk out of here with
Becky again. Neither will you."
"I don't believe you. Ronnie told me—"
"Ronnie told you wrong. I've got an appointment with the
judge in town tomorrow morning. You could come and find
out—except you're not going to be here that long."
Kayla Ward stared at him without saying a word, which came
as a surprise. Somehow, she didn't seem the type to give in
that easily.
Another look at her face—eyes cold and homed in on
him—proved him right. She hadn't given in at all.
She moved closer. Near enough that he could smell whatever
she used in her hair, some kind of shampoo that made him
think of wildflowers and sweet grass.
"Becky hasn't even been here twenty-four hours yet," she said.
"Long enough for you to have gotten here five times over, if
you were all that concerned."
"I was out of town at a conference," she protested. "I
didn't know what had happened until I got home this morning.
Then I took the next flight out." She stopped, shook her
head. "What does that matter? The point is, I want to take
Becky back home. Why would you want her here?" She glared at
him. "You don't even know each other."
"She's my daughter."
"Does she know that?"
He frowned, taken aback. "What do you mean?"
"Have you told her you're her daddy? Did she understand
you?" She took a deep breath and blinked rapidly, probably
to hide the moisture he'd seen suddenly brightening her
eyes. "I'm sure you weren't ever expecting to have the
responsibility for your daughter. Since Ronnie 'dumped Becky
off' here, as you called it, I assume you're saying she
didn't give you any notice. She's left Becky unannounced at
my mom and dad's house plenty of times over the years, too."
"Well, you can tell your folks they don't need to worry
about that anymore."
"I don't have to tell them anything. I'm bringing their
granddaughter home with me."
"Like hell—" The sounds of sneakers slap-slapping on
the pine floor made him break off and stare over her shoulder.
From the archway connecting the kitchen and living room,
Becky burst into the room. She gave a high-pitched shriek
and broke into a grin.
Kayla whirled away from him. As Becky flung herself forward,
Kayla opened her arms wide. The force of their meeting
nearly rocked the woman back on her heels. Sam put his hands
out to steady her, but she caught her balance on her own. As
he watched, she hugged Becky, let go, and started gesturing
in the air in front of her.
Becky's little arms waved in response.
While the exchange went on, Sam stood motionless.
Becky gave another high-pitched yelp and moved away to run
into the kitchen again.
Kayla turned to him. "Becky went to get her dolls," she said
in an expressionless tone. "Like any four-year-old, she
wants to show off her toys." She folded her arms across her
chest. "But you don't know that, do you? You couldn't
understand a word we were saying."
Before he could blurt out the heated response that shot into
his mind, Becky reappeared in the doorway. Behind her, she
pulled along her doll-filled wagon. At least Ronnie had
heart enough to leave the kid with some toys.
His heart lurched at the sight of the cart. A feeling
of warmth spread through him. He'd kept that wagon upstairs
in an extra bedroom, never knowing whether a child of his
would ever play with it. She sure seemed attached to the thing.
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