Rancher's Wife. Anne Marie Winston
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who could put that look on her face.
* * *
Angel laughed as her agent scolded her for the tenth time. “Calm down, Karl. I’m fine. I simply needed a little space for a while. Just tell everyone that I’m taking a well-deserved vacation.”
“Where on earth are you and why haven’t you called?” Her agent didn’t sound amused.
She guessed she couldn’t blame him. It must be a bit nerve-racking to have your hottest property disappear without warning.
Karl went on. “I tried your number all day yesterday but all I got was that detestable machine you insist on using to screen your calls.”
She forced a light laugh. Karl knew how much anxiety that screening diverted. Her anonymous caller had stopped trying to reach her after she’d installed that machine. Apparently he was too smart to leave a voice trail for the police. “What’s so urgent it couldn’t wait?”
Paper rustled over the wire and she could almost see him adjusting his glasses. “Well, Muffy Fenderson invited you to a—”
“Send my regrets.”
“But Angelique, exposure is everything—”
“I’m not going, Karl. Anything else?”
He must have heard the note of finality in her voice. “Not really. Oh, some actor called, said he knew you and wanted your number to invite you to dinner. Janson Brand? I’d never heard of him.”
She’d met him during her first days in L.A. Nice enough, but not an acquaintance she wanted to renew. All she did want right now was to be left alone. “Tell anyone who calls I’m unavailable for an indefinite period.”
“Angelique!” Karl sounded almost panicky. “I can’t say that. It will bring the press sniffing around with even greater fervor than they’ve already shown. Are you sure you’re all right?”
“Karl, relax. I’m fine. You’re the one who told me I needed a break, remember?”
“But, darling, I seem to recall I suggested the South of France, with me dancing attendance.”
“The South of France sounds lovely. I’ll consider it.” She pressed on, conscious of a desire to conclude the conversation. Talking to Karl reminded her too much of all the things she wanted to forget about. “I’m going to be out of town for a few weeks. I’ll call you when I get back, okay?”
“A few weeks?” Her normally unflappable agent sounded distinctly taken aback.
Angel laughed with real feeling. “Don’t worry. I promise I’ll call.”
“No, wait! What if I get an offer you can’t refuse? At least give me your number.”
“All right.” She gave him the Red Arrow number. “But don’t call me unless there’s an emergency. I’ll call you when I’m ready to come back.”
* * *
After dinner, she helped Dulcie clean up.
“I’ll wash, you dry.” Dulcie tossed her a dish towel. As she ran a basin full of water to begin soaking the pans, she said, “You’ve surprised me.”
“I have? How?” Angel smiled as she put glasses into the dishwater, remembering that Dulcie used to be able to read her like an open book.
“You haven’t asked a single question about how my brother got mixed up with a famous face like Jada Barrington.”
“I did wonder—” Angel hesitated “—but I’ve learned the value of privacy and I try to extend it to other people.” Then she grinned. “Besides, I can hardly imagine asking Day. Your brother isn’t exactly thrilled with my presence here.”
Dulcie sobered. “I know. And I blame every ounce of his attitude on Jada. Day has gotten a lot harder and a lot tougher since his marriage ended. The worst of it is, it’s my fault they ever met. I regret that stupid bet every day.”
“What bet?”
“The bet I made with Day.” Dulcie sighed. “Several years ago we heard that Jada was filming a special project in Lake Valley, a ghost town north of here. They needed local cowboys as extras. I bet Day they wouldn’t use him and he went just to prove me wrong. Jada took one look at him and decided that he would make great publicity. She was just starting out then, remember?”
Angel nodded. She thought of the way Day’s jeans had molded his long legs, those unforgettable eyes and the easy confidence he wore like a favorite hat. It was easy to see how any woman would take a second look at Day Kincaid. But the man she’d met didn’t seem the type to be easily manipulated by a woman. “So she bowled him over?”
“Not exactly.” Dulcie’s words confirmed her first thoughts. “But he was flattered by all the attention at first. Jada can be very persuasive, and for a while I think Day honestly thought she loved him. Anyway, I’ll give you the short version. Jada got pregnant, and when Day found out, he married her even though he wasn’t happy about it. She’d never have roped him otherwise. Jada thought Day would dance to her tune but when she found out he had no intention of ever joining her in L.A., they had some knock-down-and-drag-out fights like you can’t imagine. The result was that she went back to L.A. before the baby was born. When Beth Ann arrived, Jada couldn’t have been less interested. Day brought Bethie here when she was three days old, and until last year, Jada hadn’t even seen her.”
“What changed that?”
“Beth Ann is three now. As she got older, it occurred to Jada that the mother angle will enhance her somewhat soiled image. She’s been insisting on visitation and hinting at custody for several months.”
“That’s awful if it’s the only reason she wants Beth Ann.” Doubt crept in because she couldn’t imagine anyone not loving that sweet little girl. And she knew better than most how vicious the press could be. Maybe she’d been wrong in assuming that Jada had mistreated her child. Maybe the woman wasn’t as bad as she had been made out to be. “Maybe she misses her and regrets the time she’s lost.”
Dulcie snorted. “And pigs fly. Whenever Beth Ann comes back from a visit to Jada, she’s a silent mouse who’s afraid of her own shadow. She’s terrified of getting punished for getting dirty and she shies away from sudden movements as if she thinks she’s going to get hit.” Her face darkened. “Day’s trying to get full custody and I, for one, am hoping he succeeds.”
Angel thought of the love in Day’s rough tones when he kissed his daughter’s forehead, and of the way he’d given her his exclusive attention when he’d danced her around the kitchen earlier. There was no question that he adored his daughter. If what Dulcie believed was true, then she, too, hoped Day would succeed in gaining full custody, for the child’s sake.
Three
When Day came into the kitchen before the crack of dawn the next morning, he was surprised to note that Dulcie must have gotten there before him. The lights and the radio were on and a cup of aromatic coffee, half-consumed, was sitting on the counter. A thud in the walk-in pantry alerted him to her whereabouts.
“Want me to start on lunches?” he called.
“Either that or the pancakes.” Angel stepped out of the pantry, a loaf of bread and a dozen oranges carefully balanced in her arms. Her heavily lashed eyes were sleepy lidded and appealing; her bright hair spilled over one shoulder from the elastic band in which she’d confined it.
Too startled to keep silent, he blurted, “I wasn’t expecting you!”
She gave a small shrug and smiled. “I told Dulcie to sleep in this morning, at least until Beth Ann gets awake.”
Day pulled out one of the chairs and plopped down, pulling on his boots and stomping into them, surreptitiously studying Angel as she moved around his