скачать книгу бесплатно
Temporary Dad
Laura Marie Altom
Three Crying Babies+ 26 Hours+ 800 Miles= One Desperate Man!Fireman Jed Hale is used to being in control. But twenty-six hours of babysitting his sister's infant triplets is making him feel utterly helpless. His sister Patti was supposed to be back yesterday.Now he's worried. But he's pretty sure where she is–at the family cabin eight hundred miles away.Jed needs a miracle–fast. And that's exactly what he gets when his new, very beautiful neighbor Annie Harnesberry drops by to offer a helping hand. She seems to have a magic touch with babies and calms the triplets down within minutes. In an act of desperation, Jed asks Annie to join him and the triplets on his mission to find Patti–and Annie accepts! Jed has never needed anyone, but he's starting to think that needing Annie wouldn't be so bad….
Annie gaped
What else could she do faced with the handsomest man she’d ever seen—hugging not one baby, not two babies, but three? Each red faced and screaming. Triplets?
“I’m your new neighbor, Annie Harnesberry. I don’t mean to be nosy, but it sounded like you might need some help.” She reached for the most miserable-looking baby and cradled the poor thing against her left shoulder.
The guy sort of laughed. “Yeah. My little sis left me with these guys over twenty-six hours ago. She was supposed to be back at two yesterday afternoon, but—” The babies launched a whole new set of screams.
“I’m Jed Hale. I’m a fireman. What do you do?” He awkwardly held out his hand for her to shake.
“I’m a preschool teacher now, but used to work with infants in a day care. I ran a pretty tight nursery.” She winked. “No crying on my watch.” Annie’s triplet had calmed, so she brushed past her neighbor to place the child in a pink bunny-covered car seat. Then she took another of the screaming babies, and like magic, after a few jiggles he fell into a deep sleep.
“Wow,” Jed said with a look of awe. “How’d you do that?”
Dear Reader,
My parents were both teachers when I was a kid, and every year, just as soon as school let out for the summer, we’d leave Michigan and head for the Colorado Rockies. My dad was an amateur gold miner, Mom was an avid reader and I liked both gold panning and reading, so usually a good time was had by all.
One not-so-happy part of our trips, though, was that my father claimed to be allergic to tourist traps. Back in the late seventies there seemed to be a lot of quirky Americana-type places. The World’s Biggest Ball of Twine and The World’s Deepest Well—can you believe it? Dad actually stopped at that one! Anyway, this book is a realization of all my childhood tourist dreams—especially when Jed and Annie get to stay in a real cabin. To save money, we always stayed in a tent. Brrr!
Back when I was a kid, Colorado was gloriously empty. We’d spend whole weeks seeing hardly anyone. As a kid, I grumbled quite a bit about these family camping trips, but now I look back on them as a truly magical time. Thanks, Mom and Dad!
Would you like to share your vacation adventures with me? Please write me at BaliPalm@aol.com or P.O. Box 2074, Tulsa, OK 74101. Like your vacations tropical? Hit my beach at lauramariealtom.com!
I hope all of you enjoy Jed and Annie’s story.
Laura Marie Altom
Temporary Dad
Laura Marie Altom
www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
This book is dedicated to the wonderful game of Scrabble, and to all the lovely folks with whom I’ve had the privilege to play.
John Chew, webmaster extraordinaire for the National Scrabble Association—thanks so much for your generosity in sharing the particulars of the National Scrabble Championship. Any errors in official protocol are mine.
Books by Laura Marie Altom
HARLEQUIN AMERICAN ROMANCE
940—BLIND LUCK BRIDE
976—INHERITED: ONE BABY!
1028—BABIES AND BADGES
1043—SANTA BABY
Contents
Chapter One (#u2c667718-6afd-54b8-8389-4b3374423f9b)
Chapter Two (#u9ff0f6c7-dfdf-5ddd-96fd-4c7a7b44f25d)
Chapter Three (#u15d99ef8-f5d7-5227-a555-7d8198e22c31)
Chapter Four (#uc49bb135-de05-5e90-91f6-fd635eb661a9)
Chapter Five (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Six (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Seven (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Eight (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Nine (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Ten (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Eleven (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Twelve (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Thirteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Fourteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Fifteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Sixteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Epilogue (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter One
Waaaaaaaaaaaa! Waa huh waaaaaaaaahh!
Sitting in a cozy rattan chair on the patio of her new condo, Annie Harnesberry looked up from the August issue of Budget Decorating and frowned.
Waaaaaaa!
Granted, she wasn’t a mother herself, but she’d been a preschool teacher for the past seven years, so that did lend her a certain credibility where children were concerned. Not to mention the fact that she’d spent the past two years falling for Conner and his five cuties. Considering how badly he’d hurt her, the man must have a PhD in breaking hearts.
Baby Sarah had only been nine months old when Conner brought his second-youngest, three-year-old Clara, to the school where Annie used to teach.
Their initial attraction had been undeniable—Annie’s affinity for Clara and Baby Sarah, that is.
The two blue-eyed blondes were heart-stealers.
Kind of like their father, who’d gradually made Annie believe he’d loved her and not her knack for taking care of his children.
The man had emotionally devastated her when, instead of offering her a ring on Valentine’s Day, he’d offered her a position as his live-in nanny—right before showing off the diamond solitaire he was giving the next female on his night’s agenda.
Jade.
His future bride.
Trouble was, Jade didn’t much care for the patter of little feet—hence Conner’s sudden need for a nanny. But beyond that, he explained that the exotic brunette was one hot ticket. Us all living together’ll be like a big, happy family, don’tcha think?
Waaaaa ha waaaah!
Annie sighed.
Whoever was in charge of that poor, pitiful wailer in the condo across the breezeway from hers ought to do something to calm the infant. Never had she heard so much commotion. Was the poor thing sick?
She plucked a dead leaf from the pot of red impatiens gracing the center of her patio table, then returned to her article on glazing. She’d love to try this new technique in the guest bath that was tucked under the stairs.
Maybe in burgundy?
Or gold?
Something rich and decadent—like the decorating equivalent of a spoonful of hot fudge.
The house she’d grown up in had been painted top to bottom, inside and out, in vibrant jewel tones. She’d lived with her grandparents, since her mom and dad were engineers who traveled abroad so often that once she’d become school-age, it had been impractical for her to go with them. Her second place of residence—never could she call it a home—had been painted mashed-potato beige. This was the house she’d shared with her ex-husband, Troy, a man so abusive he made Conner look like a saint. Lodging number three, the apartment she’d run to after leaving her ex, had been a step up from mashed potatoes, seeing how it’d been painted creamed-corn yellow.
This condo was her fourth abode, and this time, she was determined to get not only the décor right, but her life. As much as she loved spending five days a week around primary colors and Sesame Street wallpaper, in her free time, she craved more grown-up surroundings.
Waaaaa waaaa waaaaa!
Waa huh waaaa!
Waaaaaaaaa!
Annie slapped the magazine back onto her knees.
Something about the sound of that baby’s crying wasn’t right.
Was there more than one?
Definitely two.
Maybe even three.
But she’d moved in a couple of weeks earlier and hadn’t heard a peep or seen signs of any infant in the complex—let alone three. That was partially why she’d chosen this unit over the one beside the river, which had much better views of the town of Pecan, Oklahoma’s renowned pecan groves.
The problem with the other place, the one with the view, was that it catered to families, and after saying tearful goodbyes to Baby Sarah and Clara and their two older brothers and sister, not to mention their father, the last thing Annie wanted in a new home was children.
Conner had packed up his kids, along with his gorgeous new wife and Scandinavian nanny, moving them all to Atlanta. The children were just as confused by the sudden appearance of Jade in their father’s life as Annie had been. She sent them birthday cards and letters, but it wasn’t the same. She missed them. Which was why she’d left her hometown of Bartlesville for Pecan. Because she’d resigned herself to mothering only the kids at work.
Conner was her second rotten experience with a man. And with trying to be part of a big, boisterous family. She sure didn’t want any daily reminders of her latest relationship disaster.
No more haunting memories of running errands with the kids at Wal-Mart or QuikTrip or the grocery store. No more lurching heart every time she saw a car that reminded her of Conner’s silver Beemer on Bartlesville’s main drag.
She needed a fresh start in the kind of charming small town that Conner wouldn’t lower himself to step foot in.
Annie looked at her magazine.
Glazing.
All she needed to feel better about her whole situation was time and a can or two of paint.
Waa huh waaaaaaa!
Annie frowned again.
No good parent would just leave an infant crying like this. What was going on? Could the baby’s mom or dad be hurt?
Wrinkling her nose, nibbling the tip of her pinkie finger, Annie put her magazine on the table and peered over the wrought-iron rail encircling her patio.
A cool breeze ruffled her short, blond curls, carrying with it the homey scent of fresh bread baking at the town’s largest factory, a mile or so away. She had yet to taste Finnegan’s Pecan Wheatberry bread, but it was supposedly to die for.
Normally at this time of year in Oklahoma, she’d be inside cozied up to a blasting central AC vent. Due to last night’s rain, the day wasn’t typical August fare, but tinged with an enticing fall preview.
Waaaaaaaa!
Annie popped the latch on her patio gate, creeping across grass not quite green or brown, but a weary shade somewhere in between.
The birdbath left behind by the condo’s last owner had gone dry. She’d have to remember to fill it the next time she dowsed her impatiens and marigolds.
Waaaaaa!
She crept farther across the shared lawn, stepping onto the weathered brick breezeway she shared with the as-yet-unseen owner of the unit across from hers.
The condo complex’s clubhouse manager—Veronica, a bubbly redhead with a penchant for eighties rock and yogurt—said a bachelor fireman lived there.
Judging by the dead azalea bushes on either side of his front door, Annie hoped the guy was better at watering burning buildings than poor, thirsty plants.
Waaa huhhh waaa!
She took another nibble on her pinkie.
Looked at the fireman’s door, then her own.
