Ranger Guardian. Angi Morgan

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      Another couple of minutes, and he could call Skylar Dawn before Kendall put her in the bathtub. She was almost four years old, and it had been six months since he’d destroyed any chance at a normal father-daughter relationship.

      He went through the motions, just like he did every night. Nothing there comforted him like it had when he was married. There was no one to talk to about the bronc ramming him in half.

      No one to joke with about the young women hanging around the edge of the stalls. Or how he’d felt too old to notice. But they’d had fun with their wolf calls when he’d bent over and showed his backside. Kendall had gotten a kick out of coming up and laying a big, luscious kiss on him when that had happened before.

      That had been before she’d gotten pregnant and the barn smell had made her nauseous.

      Another sip of beer. It was almost gone, and he wanted another.

      Was this what life was going to be like? Waiting around while Kendall—and her mother—made all the decisions about their life? He’d been ready for months to talk with her and apologize again. He just wanted their old life back.

      Was that even possible?

      Completely aware that pressure against his side would be painful, he went back into the kitchen, filled a couple of sandwich bags with ice, wrapped them in a towel and shoved it against his ribs.

      The stinging cold brought him to his senses. He was getting too old for this routine. Too old to be afraid to talk with his wife. Too old to insult Vivian and Slate or any of his other friends because he was miserable with his own life.

      It was time to make some changes.

      Good or bad...he needed to talk with Kendall face-to-face. Soon. Maybe it would turn out better than he feared. Maybe it wouldn’t. All he knew was that it was time to move forward.

      Good thing he had a light load at work. He was mostly focused on court and testifying and paperwork right now. He set the ice on the table, then slid his shirt free from his belt. He tucked it up close to his armpit before looking closer at the bruise.

      That was going to be a big boo-boo, as baby girl would say.

      Yeah, it was time. Slate was right about that. Time to apologize and move on. How long could a woman stay mad?

      Something in the back of his mind warned that his woman could stay that way a very, very long time. Especially with a mother whispering in her ear who hated him. Hell, his mother-in-law had shouted to the world that he’d never be good enough for her daughter.

      He clicked on his phone, stared at the picture of Kendall holding a super pink baby girl and swiped to dial. He would talk to his wife face-to-face. Tonight, he’d read to his daughter.

      “Hey there. How’s my favorite munchkin?” He reached for the children’s version of The Wizard of Oz.

      “Daddy!”

      * * *

      “JERRY, I KNOW it’s Sunday night. That’s why I’m calling. I need more people. I know I’m close to a breakthrough.” Kendall Barlow didn’t back down. Her supervisory special agent should know that. She heard the house phone ring in the background, as it did every night like clockwork.

      In six months’ time, Heath hadn’t missed calling his daughter once. And not one time had he made a serious effort to reconcile. He was a man of few words—for everyone except Skylar Dawn.

      “Kendall. It’s been months and you’ve got nothing to show for it. You know we’re shorthanded. Dallas Police Department is worse off than we are. You aren’t going to get more qualified personnel for the joint task force than the people already assigned to it.”

      “If I had another competent person who knew their way around computers, I know I could prove that Public Exposure is fraudulent. We’re close. Very close.”

      “Oh furgle. Our resources have been tapped out. Run with what you’ve got, and get me something to show for your time. Of course, there is one person already on your task force you haven’t tried.”

      “Special Agent Fisher, I’ve asked you not to use that word. I’ve looked it up and it’s inappropriate. It was fine in Catch-22, but come on. You know it doesn’t mean what you think.” She was tired of this conversation. Or was he trying to distract her? Did he really think that she needed something to justify the investigation? Couldn’t he think of one more possible agency to check? “Jerry?”

      “Yes? I promise I’ll behave. I just love that word.”

      “Please don’t—”

      “You should talk to your ex. Ask him if he’s heard anything about your case.”

      “That’s a clear conflict of interest. No one would allow him on the team.”

      “Seems like that’s my decision now. I’ll allow him to help out until the Rangers can find a replacement. Use the taxpayers’ money wisely. See you in the office.”

      The line disconnected, and she could once again hear the exclamations of surprise from her daughter as her father read about flying monkeys and sparkly red shoes. Had she mentioned to Heath that their daughter had outgrown two pairs of those red slippers while he’d been gone?

      Skylar Dawn was sitting on the couch holding the main phone extension. Her grandmother listened on an additional handset just outside the door. Heath knew about the eavesdropping even if her mother thought it was a secret. He accepted it as part of his “punishment for whatever he blamed himself.”

      As if living away from their precious little girl wasn’t punishment enough. Why he thought he needed to be punished, she didn’t understand. And no matter how she tried, her mother wouldn’t stop.

      Constant jabs at Heath kept an undercurrent of tension in the air. Kendall wanted to avoid the subject and leaned toward avoiding her mother in the evenings when she helped out with Skylar Dawn.

      Heath wasn’t her ex, and finalizing their separation wasn’t high on her priority list. So far there hadn’t been any squabbles about how to do anything. He’d taken only a few of his things and the horses.

      Other than a picture or two of Skylar Dawn, he’d managed to leave everything looking exactly like it had been when he’d walked away. Or when she’d driven him away. She could remember exactly when things had come to a pivotal breaking point. Most of that argument had to do with her mother.

      Her mother’s standards had been high her entire life. Heath had a father exactly the same way. But what had turned Heath into a strong man who held his opinions to himself—or himself and his horse—seemed to be turning her soul bitter.

       I can’t be my mother. I can’t do that to Skylar Dawn.

      “Do you have to say goodbye, Daddy?”

      Kendall waited for the familiar “Good night” and “I love you.” Her daughter clicked the red button on the phone and her mother followed a second afterward. She crossed her arms, enveloping the phone between a breast and a well-toned limb.

      Her mother, a woman of sixty, СКАЧАТЬ