Bonnie Winn - For the Sake of His Child

Brynn’s anxiety was still strong. “Partially. Some of it’s in her. But the most important step is still up to you.”

Jake looked puzzled. “And you don’t think I’ll do my part?”

Wanting so much for Andrea, Brynn battled between diplomacy and truth. “I know you’ll do everything in your power right now because you’ve nearly lost her. But what about later on? Will the next project in Kenya mean more than Andrea’s sense of stability?”

“That was a low blow.”

“I didn’t mean it to be. I’m just trying to be realistic. Your job takes you far away. And I don’t think Andrea can bear that anymore.”

He blinked. “You’re saying I have to choose between my career and my daughter?”

Dear Reader,

In the life of a writer, fact and fiction occasionally race along hand in hand. And when emotion begs to join them, a story grows. Such was the case in For the Sake of His Child.

Blessed with the world’s most wonderful friends, I’ve shared some of their generosity and experiences. Perhaps you’ll recognize yourself in the pages. Friends reaching out to friends. What could be better? Unless maybe it’s the love such friends find with the men in their lives. Men we cherish as we shop, talk endlessly over lunch and, even better, when we go home at night.

Please join me as I celebrate the unmatched joys of romance, friendship, single parenting and the quest for that one special love.

And to my own Mr. Right, keep the lights on, sweetheart. I’ll be home soon.

Sincerely,

Bonnie K. Winn

www.millsandboon.co.uk

To Jean Baker, for friendship, for giving, for sharing,

for always caring. I miss you, Texas girl.

And to Laura Shin, thank you.

PROLOGUE

CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER THREE

CHAPTER FOUR

CHAPTER FIVE

CHAPTER SIX

CHAPTER SEVEN

CHAPTER EIGHT

CHAPTER NINE

CHAPTER TEN

CHAPTER ELEVEN

CHAPTER TWELVE

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

San Antonio, Texas

GLANCING IN THE REARVIEW mirror, Kirk Alder accelerated. The same dark green car remained close behind. The one that had tailed him from his studio.

Searching his memory, Kirk was almost positive the car hadn’t been there before then. Not at the house, not at—

The deceptively fast Cadillac sped even closer.

Kirk reached for his cell phone. Cursing, he realized he’d left it behind at the studio, stashed in his camera bag. His mission had been so urgent he hadn’t bothered with either.

Speeding up again, he wished he’d driven the Eclipse. The van’s steering was clumsy and he didn’t want to try any evasive maneuvers with the boxy vehicle. But it was Brynn’s day out with Sarah. His wife and daughter loved the sleek lines of the Eclipse and they’d taken off for a day of shopping early that morning. And at the time he hadn’t thought he’d have to evade a pursuer.

He glanced ahead on the freeway, spotting the exit he needed not too far away. Switching lanes at the last minute, he hoped to outwit the driver behind him. But the Cadillac stuck right behind him on the two-lane overpass.

It was time—past time—to talk with the police. He’d already waited too long. The police station was close.

A slow-moving eighteen-wheeler hogged the right lane, the one he had to be in to exit. Swearing, he looked to the left, hoping to pass the truck and speed ahead.

But the dark green Cadillac was still on his tail.

Before he could guess the driver’s intention, the Cadillac slammed into the side of the van.

Kirk wrenched the steering wheel, trying to regain control. The van swayed on the high overpass.

Trapped behind the huge truck as he was, with the Cadillac boxing him in, there was no escape.

Desperately clenching the steering wheel with all his strength, he tried to prepare for the next blow. This time the heavy car made a direct hit on the driver’s-side door.

The sounds of tearing metal and shattering glass barely penetrated, blocked out by his last conscious thought: It wasn’t supposed to end this way! God, please let Brynn understand…please.

Two years later, Walburg, Texas

THERE WAS A TIME when Brynn Alder had not been sad. A time before her life had been stolen. A time when she had reason to be happy.

Tall French doors stood ajar, opening onto the cobbled brick terrace. Black and white chickadees perched in the huge, aged oak tree, sharing morsels from the well-stocked feeder. As Brynn watched, a blue jay swooped toward them and they darted away. Sometimes, when all was still, the chickadees tentatively breached the boundary between their world and hers, hopping inside from the terrace, crossing the warm wood floor of her studio. They always made her smile.

Although Brynn had known the Texas Hill Country was beautiful before she’d moved here nine months earlier from San Antonio, her true appreciation hadn’t developed until she’d settled in this house, drawn by the security it offered.

“Brynn, I’m going to get it this time,” thirteen-year-old Emily insisted, panting as she tried to shape the slippery clay. It was time for the child to go home, to move past her troubles now that she had the coping skills she’d learned from Brynn. But not before she had one more try at the potter’s wheel.

“Savor the feel of the clay in your hands,” Brynn reminded her. It was the sensation, not the end result, that she wanted the girl to carry with her. Brynn closed her eyes, picturing not Emily, but her own daughter, Sarah, sitting at the wheel, a determined, expectant expression on her young face.

“Rats!” Emily interrupted the fantasy. “I blew another one.” She held up a lumpy, shapeless object. “You’re right. This isn’t for everybody.”

Brynn smiled gently, glad Emily would take away this important concept. Ignoring the emptiness in her heart, she reached for the piece of clay. “And learning that lesson makes this a wonderful memento of our time here together. May I keep it?”

A gigantic smile erupted on Emily’s freckled face. “You really want to keep it?”

“Absolutely!” Brynn glanced at the clock on the studio wall. “But now you have to pack.” She had given in to Emily’s request for one last walk, horse ride and session at the wheel. “Your parents should be here any minute.”

“Okay.”

Emily was a changed child. When she’d come to Brynn six weeks earlier, there had been no trace of a smile and no willingness to obey the simple rules Brynn insisted upon. It was ironic, her ability to read what other people’s troubled children needed. If only she’d been so attuned to her own.

It was too difficult to go there, to relive the pain and loss. Instead, she followed Emily up the stairs, then detoured to her own room. Quickly Brynn exchanged her smock for a fresh T-shirt. She made few concessions to ceremony these days, since the remote location of the house seldom made them necessary. There were times it seemed she lived on the edge of the world. And despite the counsel of family and friends, she needed the solitude.

Loneliness wasn’t a factor. Brynn knew she’d be equally alone in a crowded room. When she’d lost the ones she loved, a chasm had rent her soul. And no one could fill that void.