Lone Star Millionaire (12 page)

“Thanks for telling me that. You talked to her, didn't you?” he asked.

“Yes. She feels badly about what she did this morning. Sometimes she gets scared and acts without thinking. But she's better.”

“I'm glad you're there with her. At least that part is familiar.”

“I like her,” Sabrina said. “She's a good kid. Although it was kind of strange to be left behind.”

“I missed having you with me.” He spoke without thinking, then realized it didn't matter. What he said was the truth. He
had
missed her.

“Oh, you did fine without me.”

“That's not the point. I'm used to having you around.”

He heard a faint sound, as if her breath had caught in her throat. He wanted to ask what she was thinking, but he didn't have the nerve. “I'm looking forward to being back with you both,” he said, coming close to the point but still avoiding it.

“We're looking forward to having you back. Get some sleep, Cal. I'll check in the morning and get the flight information, then Anastasia and I will be there to meet your plane.”

“I'd like that. Thanks, Sabrina. 'Night.”

“'Night.”

After they hung up, Cal got undressed, then climbed back into bed. As he lay in the darkness he found himself thinking about his daughter. He'd spent so much of his life avoiding
romantic entanglements, yet here he was, taking responsibility for a child. There was no going back with Anastasia. He couldn't take a couple of months to figure out if he liked the situation, then change his mind. He'd made a commitment and he was going to keep it.

The concept should have terrified him, but it didn't. He found himself looking forward to having her be a part of his life. He wanted to watch her grow up and become an adult. His only regret was all the time he'd already missed.

From there his mind drifted to Sabrina. He missed her, too, but in a different way. He wanted her in his bed, next to him. He wanted to feel her passion, to touch her and kiss her. He wanted to see her face change as passion overtook her. He thought about what it would be like to wake up next to her. Not just once, but a couple of times. Maybe with her, once he had her, he wouldn't be so eager to let her go.

 

“I see you eyeing those balloons,” Cal teased.

His daughter grinned. “No way. I'm too old.” But her gaze followed the balloon vendor as he made his way through the crowd at the fair.

“We'll get you one on the way out,” Cal promised. “Because there's no way it would survive that!” He pointed ahead, to the small roller coaster that promised a wild ride unlike any ever experienced before.

Sabrina looked at the rickety track. “You two go ahead, because I'm not sure my life insurance policy is paid up.”

Cal made several clucking sounds. “You're afraid,” he said. “Sabrina's nothing but a chicken.”

“Call me all the names you'd like, but I'm going to sit right here.” She pointed to a bench outside the entrance to the ride.

Anastasia grabbed his hand. “Come on, Dad. It'll be great.”

He held back long enough to touch Sabrina's cheek. “Are you sure you'll be all right by yourself?”

She smiled. “I promise.” She patted her stomach. “I know we stopped at that deli for lunch a couple of hours ago, but it hasn't been long enough for me. If I went on that, I would toss my cookies, as they say. It wouldn't be pleasant for anyone close. I don't mind waiting. Really.”

“Da-ad!”

“I'm coming, I'm coming,” he told his daughter. “See you soon.”

Sabrina nodded as he was led away.

Twenty minutes later, he and Anastasia were soaring to the top of the track. From there he could make out the whole fair-ground. As it was midweek, the crowds weren't too large. They'd already been on most of the rides. Then the car slipped over the top of the track and everyone started to scream. He grinned.

“What do you think about going to the exhibit booths?” he asked as he and Anastasia caught up with Sabrina. She handed them each a paper cone topped by a football-size serving of cotton candy.

“Sounds great,” she said, and swiped a handful of the sticky confection.

“Sure,” his daughter agreed. “I don't care what we do. This is fun.”

Cal put his arms around the two females. Both moved closer to him. This was what he wanted, he realized, recognizing contentment, probably for the first time in his life. It wasn't flashy or something a lot of his friends or even his mother would understand, but it made sense to him. Anastasia and he had talked when he'd returned from his trip yesterday. She'd apologized for acting so badly, and he'd taken the time to explain why sometimes business would get in the way of their plans.

With Sabrina there'd been less to say. She understood about business because she was usually a part of it. What he couldn't tell her, or confess, was the thoughts he'd been having. Even today, at the fair, he felt like a kid on his first date. He'd found
excuses to touch her and be close to her. A couple of times he'd even taken her hand and been thrilled when she hadn't pulled back.

Sabrina swiped another bit of the candy, then turned away. “Oh, look, a booth for frozen bananas.”

“You're going to make yourself sick eating all this,” he warned.

“I don't care. I don't get out to places like this much anymore. When I was growing up, we always went to the county fair and I loved it.”

“You should see the Texas State Fair,” Cal said. “It's huge.”

“Yeah, yeah, everything is bigger in Texas. I keep hearing that, but have seen little proof.”

“Is everything bigger there?” Anastasia asked.

“Well, little lady,” Cal drawled. “I've been fixin' to talk to you about that.”

His daughter giggled. “You talk funny. It's that accent. Kinda like a hick.”

“A hick?” He pretended outrage and attacked her, tickling her and making her squirm and squeal.

“Daddy, no, stop!” She thrust her candy at Sabrina, then used her free hands to push him away. “Stop tickling me. I'm not really ticklish.”

Cal swooped her up and hugged her. “Yeah, brat, I can tell.”

She wrapped her arms around his neck and squeezed. Cal felt an answering tightness in his chest, as if a band had just bound his heart. This young girl meant the world to him.

He turned and caught Sabrina's gaze. She smiled. “I told you so,” she murmured.

She'd been right. About how wonderful it was to love a child.

Later, on the drive home, Anastasia fell asleep in the back seat. Cal checked on her in the rearview mirror, then reached over and took Sabrina's hand in his.

“I had a great time today,” he said.

“Me, too. Coming to the fair was a lot of fun. I know Anastasia enjoyed it, and I'm sure it went a long way toward making up for your missing the baseball game.”

“Sabrina…” His voice trailed off as he tried to figure out what to say. He wanted to invite her into his bed, or get an invitation into hers. “You've really helped me out these past few weeks and I'm grateful.”

She gave him a quick smile. “No problem.”

He cursed silently.
Smooth, Langtry, really smooth. You're making her sound like a housekeeper, not a lover.
“What I meant is—”

She pulled her hand free and rolled down the window.

“What's wrong?” he asked.

She shook her head. “I don't know. I don't feel that great. Are we almost back to the beach house?”

“Sure. About five more minutes.”

“Good.” She sucked in a deep breath.

Cal glanced at her as he drove down the dark streets. It was nearly ten and there wasn't that much traffic. As they neared the house, Sabrina moaned softly.

“I don't think I'm going to make it.”

“Sabrina?”

She waved a hand at him. “Just drive. Please. Oh, God.”

He pulled into the driveway and hit the button to release the garage door opener. She opened the passenger door and bolted for the house. Before he could go after her, Anastasia sat up.

“Daddy, I don't feel very good.”

“Hold on, kitten, we're nearly there.” He drove the car inside and turned off the engine. When he glanced back at his daughter, he was shocked to see her face was pale and coated with perspiration.

“I'm gonna be sick,” she mumbled, then stepped out of the car.

She made it as far as the trash can before throwing up.

C
al hovered outside the bathroom door. He listened to the sound of running water. When it stopped, he tapped lightly.

“Sabrina? Are you all right?”

He heard a muffled groan. “No. Go away. I want to die in peace.”

“I don't think you're going to die, I think you have food poisoning. Anastasia has it, too. She's been throwing up and feels pretty bad. As far as I can remember, the only thing you two ate that I didn't was the potato salad we got from the deli. I guess it had been left out too long.”

“I guess.”

He heard a thud. “Sabrina? What's going on?”

“Nothing. I'm just sitting here on the floor waiting until the next time I have to puke my guts out. Or deal with whatever is left in my system leaving the other way. I know, I know, more information than you wanted. Go worry about
your daughter. I'll die quietly. Tell my family I want a simple funeral and I don't want them wearing black.”

“How about a catered lunch?”

“Oh, God, don't mention food.”

“Sorry.” He pressed his hand against the door. “When you feel better, let me know and I'll get you something to drink. I don't want you getting dehydrated.”

“Just go check on Anastasia, Cal. I have to be sick now and I'd like to do that in private.”

“I'll be back.”

“I'll try to get excited about that fact.”

He moved down the hall and into his daughter's room. She lay on the bed, her face pale, her eyes dark with suffering. “Daddy, I feel terrible.”

“I know, honey. You've got food poisoning. It'll take a few hours, then the bad food will be gone and you'll start to perk up.” He pointed to the glass of water on her nightstand. “Have you been drinking?”

She shook her head. “It's too hard.”

“Anastasia.” He sat next to her and pulled her into his arms. She leaned against him, her body limp and trusting. “Come on. Just a couple of sips. Okay?”

She nodded.

He held the glass and she sipped. When she was done, she pushed it away and leaned her head against his chest. He put down the drink.

“You're going to be fine,” he promised as he got more comfortable on the bed and stroked her hair.

“How come you're not sick?”

“I didn't eat what you did. Which is good. Someone has to take care of you two.”

“Sabrina got it, too?”

“Uh-huh. Right now she's in the bathroom threatening to die.”

Anastasia raised her head and looked at him. Her expression turned stricken. Cal instantly realized his mistake. He kissed her forehead. “Sorry, honey. That was a stupid thing to say. Sabrina's fine. She's not going to die. She feels pretty bad right now, but in a couple of hours, she'll be able to get some sleep, and by morning, it will all be over. I promise.”

“I don't want her to die.”

“I know. I'm sorry I said that. It was supposed to be funny.”

She nodded. “I don't want you to die, either.”

“I'm not going to.”

“Promise?”

He made an
X
on his chest. “I'll do everything I can to stay alive so I can be with you. We have a lot of time to make up for.”

Anastasia rubbed her eyes and looked at him. “Am I bad for liking you?”

“No. Of course not. Why would you think that?”

“I just—” She shrugged. “My other parents. I still miss them so much, and I want them to come back, but I know they're really gone forever.” Her brown eyes filled with tears.

He cupped her face and brushed away the tears. “Anastasia, you've had more than your share of heartache, haven't you? You're confused about all of this and I can't blame you. I'm the grown-up and I get confused, too. Your parents, the ones who adopted you, will always be your Mom and Dad. You love them.” He touched the spot just below the hollow in her throat. “They'll live in your heart.”

“Sometimes it's hard to remember them.”

“Do you have a picture of them?”

“Yeah. Two.”

He stuffed the second pillow behind his head. “Do you like looking at the photos?”

She nodded.

“Then keep them out on your dresser. I won't mind. I want
you to remember them. When you're feeling better, I'd like you to tell me about them. They took care of you when I didn't know about you. I'm grateful that they were good people and that they loved you. That's what I would have wanted if I couldn't have been there myself. I'm glad you love them.”

She glanced at him. “Sabrina says it's okay to love lots of people.”

“That's true.”

“They won't be mad?” she asked in a whisper.

“If there's a little girl in heaven with no one to look after her, will you be mad if they take care of her for a while?”

Anastasia thought about that one. “They'll still love me, right?”

“Of course.”

“Then I wouldn't mind. It's scary to be alone.”

Cal thought about his life. He knew that demon personally. “You're not alone anymore.”

Anastasia rested her head on his shoulder. “I know, Daddy. I have you and I have Sabrina.”

He stroked her back. Somehow he'd gotten lucky with his daughter. He didn't know what he'd done to deserve having her in his life, but he was damn grateful she'd shown up.

She sat up suddenly. “Daddy, I'm gonna be sick again.”

“All right, honey. I'll carry you to the bathroom.”

But as he reached for her, he was too late. Anastasia threw up over him, the sheets, the blankets and herself. When she was finished, she burst into tears.

“It's no big deal,” he said, and picked her up. After carrying her into the bathroom and leaving her with orders to get out of her dirty clothes and put on a clean nightgown, he stripped off his shirt and snagged another before returning to her bedroom. It was a mess. He glanced at the clock. Nearly nine. He had a feeling it was going to be a long night.

 

Cal finished filling the dishwasher. There were bowls from the soup he'd made for Anastasia and Sabrina, not to mention plates from toast and pots from his own food. It was nearly three in the afternoon. As he'd suspected, he hadn't gotten a lot of sleep the night before. Anastasia had made steady trips to the bathroom, although after that one accident, she'd managed to make it on time. Sabrina had retreated to her bedroom about midnight and, to the best of his knowledge, was feeling better. She'd spent the morning lying low.

When he'd finished in the kitchen, he went upstairs to check on his daughter. Anastasia lay curled up on her side, asleep. She'd taken a shower early that afternoon and had asked him to change the sheets. Which reminded him—they were still in the washer.

On the way to the laundry room, the phone rang. He picked up the receiver. “Hello?”

“Mr. Langtry, good afternoon. This is Ada, Sabrina's assistant. I hope I'm not interrupting.”

“Not at all.” Cal carried the remote into the laundry room off the garage. He moved the wet sheets from the washer to the dryer and pressed the Start button. “What can I do for you, Ada? Is there another crisis?”

He grimaced. If there was, this time he was going to have to get someone else to take care of it. He needed to be here.

“Not really.”

He frowned. “Ada, something's wrong. I can hear it in your voice.”

She cleared her throat. “Nothing's wrong. It's just…” What he heard sounded suspiciously like a strangled laugh. “You received a phone call a few minutes ago. From a magazine editor. She didn't want to give me the information, but when I told her you were on vacation and couldn't be reached, she agreed to tell me what she wanted. I said I would relay the information to you so you could get in touch with them.”

A suspicion arose in his mind but he refused to voice it. “What is it about this time?” he asked instead, hoping it wasn't what he was afraid it was.

“It's certainly unique. Are you familiar with
Prominence Magazine?
”

“Of course.” Damn, he'd forgotten all about them and their silly World's Most Eligible Bachelor story. “But I don't think I'm their style.” It was true—at that very moment, he felt anything but “eligible.”

“On the contrary, Mr. Langtry,” Ada continued, her amusement more evident now. “You appear to be exactly their style. You see, they're doing a year-long series of articles on, well, bachelors. The world's most eligible bachelors, to be exact. And you're one of the twelve.”

Cal tried not to sound annoyed…or embarrassed. “Just my luck. I was hoping they would forget all about me.”

“You knew?” Ada's surprise overwhelmed her amusement for just a moment. “But I just got the information now. How did you know?”

“They contacted me a couple of weeks ago. When I called to tell them I wasn't interested, the editor somehow convinced me to do an interview.”

“And a photo shoot.”

“They want pictures?” Cal didn't think it could get much worse.

“Yes, sir. I understand there's going to be a large spread in each issue. I think you're Mr. June!”

He swore under his breath. Mr. June? He didn't want to think about the board's reaction to any of this. They would tease him for months.

“Anything else?” he asked.

“No, that's it.”

“Go ahead and e-mail me the info, so I can access it later. I'll call them in a few days. Thanks for letting me know.”

“Mr. Langtry, it was my pleasure.”

He thought about how quickly word would spread in the office. “I'll just bet it was,” he said, and couldn't help smiling ruefully. If this were happening to anyone but him, he would get a big kick out of it, too.

He returned the remote to its base, then climbed the stairs to check on his daughter. She was still sleeping soundly. So far she hadn't been sick that day and she was keeping down fluids, so she seemed to be on the mend. He made his way to Sabrina's room and knocked on the door.

“Come in,” she called.

He stepped inside. She sat up in bed, reading a book. She, too, had showered earlier that afternoon. She wore a different oversize T-shirt and no makeup. In the afternoon light, she looked younger.

“How do you feel?” he asked.

“A lot better.”

He motioned to the tray on the dresser. She'd finished off a large bowl of soup and some toast. “You're eating well. If I didn't know better, I would say you've been faking it.”

She fluttered her eyelashes. “Not me. Why would I want to do something like that?”

“Oh, I don't know,” he said as he settled on the edge of her bed. “Maybe to force me to take care of Anastasia so we could bond some more.”

“What a clever idea,” she said, still all innocence. “But you're giving me way too much credit. I wish I'd thought of that, but I didn't.”

He leaned forward and touched his index finger to her nose. “Liar.”

“Me? Lie? Never. I might not have been as sick as Anastasia, and I'll admit that I've stayed in bed even though I'm probably well enough to get up, but I didn't fake it.” Her mouth twisted. “I spent way too much of last night barfing my guts up.”

He winced. “There's an attractive visual. Thanks for sharing.”

“Anytime. So how's it going?”

“Anastasia is fine. She's weak, but eating a little, and she's able to keep it down. Right now she's asleep.” He cleared his throat. “Whether or not you planned it, we've bonded. We talked about her parents, the ones who adopted her. She's concerned about divided loyalties. I explained that it was okay to care about them and me.” He frowned. “At least I tried to make that clear.”

“Cal, I'm sure you did great. You have to trust yourself with this stuff. I'm really impressed with how well you're doing. You're a natural at being a dad.”

He appreciated the confidence, even if he wasn't so sure it was deserved. There were still many things he didn't understand. “I like that she calls me that. Dad, I mean.”

“I thought you might.”

“It's strange how much that means to me.”

She put her book aside and pulled her knees to her chest. “I don't think so. She's your daughter and you're learning to care about her. It's only natural you want her to care back. People tend to get nervous when they put their heart on the line, but the other person doesn't.”

He knew what she meant. He had the same type of concerns with his relationship with her. Except he wasn't putting his heart on the line. Wanting wasn't the same as loving. But he did
care.
He'd always liked Sabrina.

As a friend, he reminded himself. Which was different from wanting her. Now he had both feelings to wrestle with. There didn't seem to be any easy answers.

“I haven't loved anyone in a long time,” he admitted. “Not since Tracey and I were kids and I loved her.”

“You love your parents,” she told him.

“Maybe.” He shrugged. “Probably. If you can love someone without forgiving them for what they've done.”

“You mean keeping Janice's pregnancy from you?”

“That and letting Anastasia be adopted when Janice died. To me, that's unforgivable. I might reconsider if my mother showed any interest in her granddaughter, but I know that's never going to happen.”

Sabrina looked unhappy. “I want to disagree with you, but I can't. I don't see her coming around, either. It's a difficult situation. The good news is that you have Anastasia with you now.” She stretched. “Is there any news from the office?”

Cal thought about his call from Ada.

Sabrina raised her eyebrows. “Wow, what is it? I don't think I've ever seen that particular expression on your face before. An odd combination of embarrassment, resignation and—” She peered at him. “What's that last emotion? Amusement?”