For the Sake of His Child

“Andrea’s starting to heal. Thanks to you.”

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

For the Sake of His Child
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.

CONTENTS

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

PROLOGUE

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.

CHAPTER ONE

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.

One of her beloved dogs, a Border collie named Virgil, pushed his muzzle into her hand. She patted his silky head and his tail wagged in silent support as they walked down the stairs together.

Brynn had only enough time to fix some iced tea before the doorbell rang. The Hills, Emily’s parents, could scarcely contain their anxiety.

But before Brynn could reassure them, Emily rushed down, her shoes making a noisy clatter on the wooden stairs. Running forward, she hugged her parents eagerly.

Surprise changed to gratitude as the Hills returned Emily’s embrace, the room filling with enthusiastic voices.

A few minutes later, Emily’s father still looked stunned as he glanced toward Brynn. “I don’t know what to say.”

“Enjoy your beautiful daughter,” Brynn replied.

After accepting thanks, she watched the trio get into their car, then waved until they were out of sight. Once back inside, with the door closed, she found that the silence seemed louder than the noise the happy family had made. Only the clicking of Virgil’s toenails broke the stillness.

Brynn strolled through the studio and onto the terrace. The house was too quiet, as it always was when a child left. And this one had stayed longer than most. As a result, Brynn was behind in her work. Contracts to three galleries had yet to be filled and she couldn’t afford to lose the work. However, once the commissioned pieces were completed, she needed to rest. She couldn’t mentor another child unless she had some downtime first.

Sitting in a comfortable, deep rocker, she surveyed the open green field before her. Her other three dogs were playing in the long grass, chasing rabbits or each other. Virgil was the one who glued himself to her side, keeping watch. Still, all the animals had adjusted well to the move. And to think less than a year earlier she’d had no pets. Now she couldn’t imagine not having them around.

Virgil had been a gift from her best friend, Julia Ford. Worried about Brynn after Sarah’s death, Julia had brought over the faithful dog. Unable to face the responsibility of having to care for another living creature and perhaps failing it, Brynn had determinedly headed for the shelter where Julia had purchased the dog, intending to return him. However, as she walked the aisles of caged animals, her tender heart had betrayed her.

Instead of returning Virgil, Brynn had brought home three additional dogs destined for destruction that day, along with two cats marked for a similar fate. And now they were her family.

A flash of sable surfaced in the field and she smiled. Shamus, her big, rambunctious setter mix, was galloping away from his smaller playmates. Brynn was indebted to her friend for far more than her pets. This was Julia’s ranch—loaned to Brynn without hesitation or limitations.

Brynn’s cell phone rang, interrupting her musing. She considered ignoring it, but knew she no longer had that luxury. The ranch phone rarely rang. Julia’s visits were sporadic and most callers knew that the cell phone was the best way to reach Brynn.

The man’s authoritative voice was one she didn’t recognize, and his request one she was hoping to avoid.

She listened to him for a few moments. “I’m sorry, Mr.… is it McKenzie? But I really can’t take on another child at this time.” Even now, exhaustion seeped through her bones. Helping a child took every bit of her limited emotional reserves.

“I was told you are the best,” McKenzie responded.

Hearing determination in his tone, she winced, knowing how desperate some parents were for help. “I appreciate the compliment—”

“It’s not a compliment. I wouldn’t be bothering you if I had an alternative. I’m not crazy about sending my child away. But she needs you.”

Brynn swallowed, hating to refuse, but knowing she had to. Battered by the events of the past year, her emotions were fragile. Although she volunteered willingly, she knew her limits. “Mr. McKenzie, the same people who recommended me can find you someone else.”

“You have a unique approach, Mrs. Alder. No one else takes a child on a one-to-one basis. Group programs haven’t helped my daughter. She’s been in the highly recommended ones and the mildly recommended ones. They didn’t make a dent.”

“I’m sorry, Mr. McKenzie.”

“This can’t be discussed on the phone,” he replied. “I can be at your place tomorrow—”

“No!” Fear made the word a screech. She calmed her voice. “As I said, I can’t help her. Goodbye, Mr. McKenzie.” She shut the phone, unwilling to hear more. Feeling the tightness in her throat, she made herself breathe more slowly.

Brynn had reluctantly given her phone number to Julia, family and a few doctors, but she’d never divulged her new home’s location. Even her mail went to a post office box in San Antonio, which Julia checked. Her friend alerted her to anything that needed an immediate response, then brought the mail when she visited. And so far, it had worked. No one had bothered her here.

Breathing normally now, Brynn rubbed Virgil’s ears. “I’m being ridiculous,” she told the dog. “There’s no way Mr. McKenzie or anyone else can find us here.”

Still, she felt better once she’d rounded up all the pets and securely locked them inside for the evening.

THE FOLLOWING MORNING Jake McKenzie wasn’t in any better humor, having driven through San Antonio’s rush hour and then another three hours to the outlying edge of the Hill Country.

As chief engineer of worldwide Canyon Construction, he had grappled with seemingly impossible projects—bridges that spanned massive distances, skyscrapers that defied earthquakes and mammoth construction sites hundreds of miles from civilization. But his twelve-year-old daughter, Andrea, was beyond his scope.

He slowed the car as he studied the sprawling ranch-style house. It didn’t look particularly remarkable. But the woman who lived there was reported to be more than remarkable. The parents of a child she’d helped had raved about Brynn’s success with their troubled daughter, so Jake had convinced a friend to put him in touch with Mrs. Alder.

He parked beneath a tall oak tree, and as he left the car, it was so quiet Jake wondered if she was home. The garage was set to the side and behind the low house. Its doors were shut firmly, concealing whether a car was inside.

Climbing the steps to the wide front porch, he strode to the door and knocked firmly. The deep quiet was shattered. Dogs barked madly, and something smacked the other side of the door. One of the dogs, he guessed. But he didn’t back away. He’d fight a pack of wolves if it meant helping Andrea.

As the yelping continued, he heard a woman’s voice through the noise. “Who is it?”

“Jake McKenzie.”

“McKenzie?”

“We spoke on the phone yesterday.”

For a moment all he could hear was the barking. Then she commanded the dogs to be quiet. “I told you then I couldn’t help you, Mr. McKenzie.”

“Are we going to continue talking through the door?”

Several more seconds passed. Then the door opened a few inches, but the chain remained in place.

He peered inside, but couldn’t see much. The woman’s face was shadowed. “I’ve driven for hours to see you, Mrs. Alder.”

“Not at my invitation.” Suspicion still filled her voice. “How did you find out where I live?”

“From the parents of a child you helped, Susan Cranston.”

Brynn sucked in her breath. “That information is strictly confidential.”

“I’m not here to solicit state secrets. I want to discuss my daughter.”

When she didn’t speak, he wondered if she was going to shut the door. However, she unhooked the chain, then opened the door wider. “Come in,” she said, although her face and stance eloquently illustrated her reluctance.

He quickly noted the well-worn look of the house, but his examination was cut short as four dogs rushed forward to sniff at him. “You have quite a few dogs.”

“Yes.”

No explanations, excuses or boasting about her pets. He followed as she walked down a few steps into a rustic, oak-paneled den. The high ceiling was crisscrossed with thick, heavy beams, but light flooded in through tall, wide windows. One wall, a huge fireplace dominating its center, was nearly all stone—river rock that matched the exterior. It looked like a man’s room—probably her husband’s.

She gestured to a tall-backed leather club chair. As he sank into its comfortable depths, Brynn perched on the edge of the nearby sofa. Clearly she wasn’t anticipating a lengthy visit.

“I want to tell you about Andrea,” Jake began, sensing he had to cram as much information as possible into the time allotted to him. “Her mother, Val, abandoned us more than a year ago. It devastated Andrea. Even though Val was far from an ideal parent, she’d been physically there for our daughter until then.”

“And you?”

“My job takes me all over the world. I employ a small household staff, including a nanny, but that can’t take the place of a parent.”

“Does Andrea see her mother?”

Jake met her eyes. “No. Val walked away and hasn’t looked back. Not surprising, since she never wanted a child. I’ve tried to make it up to Andrea, but nothing’s worked. She withdrew when Val left. She’s no longer interested in friends, certainly not school. Her straight A’s have dropped to failing grades. I thought time would heal the worst of her pain, but it hasn’t.”

“There are good doctors—”

“I’ve tried psychiatrists, psychologists, counselors.”

“It takes time, Mr. McKenzie. A child isn’t like a work project that can be completed by a certain date.”

He set his mouth in a grim line. “We’re running out of time, Mrs. Alder.”

Brynn’s eyes widened in alarm. “Has she attempted suicide?”

“No. But she’s stopped eating and…I’m afraid she’s going to slip away.”

“You need to find a program that’s suited—”

“You’re not listening, Mrs. Alder. As I told you on the phone yesterday, Andrea doesn’t respond to programs.”

“And I’m afraid you’re not listening, Mr. McKenzie. I’m not prepared to take on another child right now. Perhaps in a few months—”

“By then it could be too late. The doctors have her drugged with medications that are supposed to help. Instead the pills make her numb. The solution isn’t more drugs or another group. She needs dedicated one-on-one care.”

“Then perhaps that’s what you should try.”

Jake could feel the tic in his jaw as anger kicked in. “Unfortunately, my success rate can’t compare with yours.”

“And unfortunately, I have work that must be completed. I simply can’t accept another child right now.”

Jake narrowed his eyes. “I’m prepared to triple the amount you charge, with a hefty bonus as well.”

Brynn stood up, flanked by her dogs. “I don’t charge for working with children. Money isn’t going to change my mind.”

He stood in turn. “You can name your price,” he insisted, unable to accept that she wouldn’t help his daughter.

Brynn gestured to the door. “Mr. McKenzie, I’d be happy to get in touch with a doctor who’s been very successful with deeply troubled teenagers, but now, I must insist that this conversation end.”

“I’m not giving up.”

“I’m not expecting you to,” she replied quietly. “Just realize I’m not the last stop in your search.”

Again he met her eyes. “That’s where you’re wrong, Mrs. Alder.”

As the door closed behind him, he could hear the locks immediately tumble into place, followed by the latching of the chain. It was a good three-hour drive home, but that didn’t dissuade him. He’d never taken no for an answer and he wasn’t going to start now.

INSIDE, BRYNN SLUMPED against the door, her breathing shallow, her pulse fluttering. Shock from the man’s unexpected presence wasn’t receding. Instead it worsened. If he could find her, how safe was this house? And why had the Cranstons disregarded their promise to keep her personal information private?

Virgil nudged her gently and she gave him a reassuring pat. When the dog’s ears pricked up, she walked quickly to the window to see Jake McKenzie’s car driving away. Replaying his words in her mind, she felt chilled. His insistence about the money was disturbing. Those who knew of her work also knew that she did it on a voluntary basis. Even though she needed the money from her gallery contracts, she never intended to accept payment for her mentoring. She couldn’t profit from a child in trouble. And if Jake McKenzie was who he said he was, he should know that.

“ANDREA, we’re almost there.” Jake glanced over at his daughter. But she didn’t respond, instead staring out the window.

He pictured the bright, happy child she had been before her mother’s defection. Laughter had come to her easily then. And she would have been chattering nonstop during the ride. Today she hadn’t spoken half a dozen words since they’d gotten in the car. His heart ached for what she had lost, what she continued to lose.

It was nearly six o’clock. He had wanted to return to the Hill Country earlier, but Andrea had been particularly uncooperative. Since Brynn Alder had seemed spooked at midday, he didn’t want to escalate her uneasiness by showing up after dark. He knew he had a fight on his hands to get the woman to reverse her decision. One that more phone calls wouldn’t win. But surely when she looked into Andrea’s face, saw the drugged emptiness of her eyes, the pain even massive medication couldn’t mask…

Spotting Brynn’s house, he turned in. As he parked, a huge dog bounded toward the car. Recognizing the lively setter from earlier, he got out of the car, then opened the passenger door. Andrea stepped out and the dog jumped up on her, its paws on her shoulders.

She was paralyzed for a moment, looking scared. However, the dog began licking her face and the fright receded.

As Jake watched, stunned to see Andrea respond to anything, they were suddenly surrounded by the three other dogs. Looking up, Jake saw Brynn Alder run around the side of her house. When she spotted him, she stopped. To his surprise, he saw fear in her face.

Exasperation he could understand. But not fear. Then it hit him. If she was here alone, she probably felt vulnerable.

He lifted a hand in greeting. She didn’t look reassured. Her gaze shifted, taking in Andrea and the dog.

“Shamus, down!” she commanded.

The dog licked Andrea’s face one last time, then obeyed.

Brynn approached, signaling her dogs, three of which trotted to her side. “Mr. McKenzie. What are you doing here?”

“I brought my daughter to meet you.”

Shamus stayed at the girl’s side as she turned. Brynn felt a stab in her heart. Although the girl’s face didn’t resemble her daughter’s, in hindsight the pain she saw there was familiar. Even though it had only surfaced on occasion, it must have been the pain that had eventually caused Sarah to take her own life.

Brynn gulped back her emotion as Jake McKenzie stared curiously at her. She took a few steps forward, unable to resist the lure of the child. Oh, to have a chance again with Sarah, to make right what she hadn’t done when Sarah was alive. To save her this time…

“Mrs. Alder?”

Brynn jerked her gaze from the girl to Jake McKenzie.

“This is Andrea.”

Brynn curved her trembling lips into a smile. “It’s good to meet you, Andrea.”

The girl didn’t respond.

Brynn wasn’t bothered by the lack of reaction. Instead she said, “Let’s go inside. You’re probably thirsty after your long drive.”

Jake looked relieved to hear the invitation. Dropping an arm over Andrea’s shoulders, he gently shepherded her inside, walking into the comfortable room. Once they’d sat down, Shamus settled at Andrea’s feet. McKenzie watched his daughter. “He likes you, Annie.”

Hesitantly she reached out to pet the dog. In return, the gentle giant gazed adoringly at her.

Brynn reluctantly pulled her own gaze away. “Make yourselves comfortable. I’ll get some iced tea.” She left the hall, Virgil at her heels.

When she returned a few minutes later, with the tea, Andrea was still stroking the dog.

“Shamus usually won’t settle down for more than two minutes.” Brynn placed the tray on the round coffee table, trying to keep her hands from shaking. “He must like you, Andrea.”

The child looked up at Brynn with such pain-filled eyes it tore again at her heart. Jake McKenzie hadn’t exaggerated.

“He’s nice,” Andrea said finally, her voice soft.

Brynn continued studying the child. “Yes, he is. Do you like dogs?”

Andrea shrugged.

It wasn’t an eloquent response, but Brynn recognized a slim crack in her apathy. She remembered how Sarah had used the same gesture when words just wouldn’t do or were difficult to summon.

Andrea reminded her so much of Sarah, who’d been so shaken by what life had dealt her. As she had hundreds of times since, Brynn wondered how differently things might have turned out if she’d been more aware then.

But her earlier suspicions couldn’t be ignored. What if the child was simply a terribly effective prop McKenzie was using?

Brynn turned to him. “Sweet tea or plain?”

“Plain, thanks.”

She handed him a glass. “And you, Andrea?”

“Sweet, I guess.”

As she poured the tea, Brynn studied the girl, wanting to connect with her. “What do you like best about school?”

Andrea didn’t look up from the dog. “Nothing.”

Jake caught Brynn’s gaze, his expression pointedly reminding her of his earlier words.

She placed Andrea’s glass on the table. But the girl didn’t reach for the tea. Like her dull eyes, the vacant expression could be the result of drugs. Her skin was unnaturally pale, her eyes shadowed with dark circles. Brynn looked from the girl to Jake McKenzie. There was a definite resemblance, especially in their hair coloring. More telling, every time Jake’s glance fell on his daughter, it filled with genuine concern. His love for Andrea was a nearly palpable thing stretching between the wounded pair. Apparently he was who he said he was. And his daughter clearly needed help. She looked fragile enough to break.

Brynn remembered Jake’s dire prediction—that Andrea was running out of time. What if he was right? Could she turn her back on the girl and risk the worst? Despite her fatigue, Brynn knew the answer. She wouldn’t, couldn’t allow that to happen.

The old, weathered grandfather clock chimed, reminding Brynn of the time. “Andrea, would you take Shamus outside, please?”

The girl hesitated, her hand still on the dog. She glanced up at her father, who nodded. “I guess so.”

Brynn pointed to the terrace doors. “You can go that way. The other dogs may follow.”

Andrea and Shamus walked outside. The two terriers trailed them, but the Border collie remained at Brynn’s side.

As soon as Andrea was out of hearing, Jake leaned forward, urgency etched in his features. “Well?”

“I can see that Andrea needs help.”

“Your help.”

“Andrea’s case is different from the children I’ve dealt with so far. I’ve had no professional training, other than psychology classes in college. Giving children time away from their day-to-day lives, from the stress even well-meaning parents can put on their children, is how I help. But in Andrea’s case…” Brynn paused, swallowing back the memories pushing at her. “Are you certain the relationship with her mother is beyond repair?”

He frowned. “My ex-wife only agreed to have Andrea in return for marriage and a guaranteed financial arrangement. But she’d had all she could take—her words, not mine. When she filed for divorce, she wanted more money, but nothing to do with Andrea.” He stood suddenly and turned toward the windows. “I never guessed a woman could have absolutely no maternal feelings. But Val thought she’d wasted enough time, said she hadn’t signed up for a life sentence. I felt Andrea was better off with no mother than one who resented her. Forcing Val into motherhood was doing no favors for Andrea. I always thought Val would come to love her. How could she not?” Shaking his head, he pivoted back toward Brynn. “This conversation isn’t helping Andrea.”

“If I’m going to help her, I’ll need to know everything.”

Light flashed in his eyes. “You’re going to take on Andrea’s case?”

“I’ll let you know by Monday. My circumstances haven’t changed, but I’ll try to work around them.”

“I’m still prepared to pay you more than—”

“No. As I told you, I do not, will not, accept money for helping a child.”

He stared at her curiously. With just one question, she had managed to pry more from him than he had confided to anyone else in years. And although he’d received a sterling recommendation regarding Brynn, he wished he knew more. Her personal life was a mystery.

Brynn glanced toward the terrace. “In the event that I’m able to work with Andrea, let’s take care of a few preliminaries. While you make out your contact list, I’ll write a list of suggested things for Andrea to pack. She’s free to bring along some personal items as well, but I ask that you eliminate anything noisy, such as CDs. The quiet here forces discussion.”

There was a time when Andrea could laugh and talk over anything, no matter how loud or distracting. Back then, on his return from work-related travel, it was as though his daughter had saved up everything that had happened while he was gone, filling him in on each detail. Val hadn’t cared. She was glad when he was away, discontented when he was home. But not his Annie.

Now, though, it worried him to travel. Every time he returned, it seemed he’d lost another piece of his daughter. Thin and pale, she looked as though she’d gone through a long illness. It was emotional, not physiological, but the result was the same. Andrea was fading away. “We’ll comply with your rules.”

Brynn studied him. “I hope you mean that.”

He drew his eyebrows together. “You doubt it?”

“My methods aren’t completely conventional. Each child dictates his or her treatment.”

“As long as it doesn’t hurt Andrea, I’m on board.”

“Good.” Brynn paused. “Because my priority will be Andrea.”

“That’s what I would expect.”

“I hope you mean that.”

“One hundred percent.” Jake studied her, wondering what prompted this woman to sacrifice so much of her time. He also wanted to know about the other members of the household before entrusting his daughter to Brynn. “Your husband must be a very understanding man.”