His Daughter's Laughter (Silhouette Special Edition)
Page 1
Table of Contents
Cover Page
Excerpt
Dear Reader
Title Page
Other Books by
About the Author
Dear Reader
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
Copyright
“Whoa, there.”
Tyler put his hands on her shoulders to steady her.
Her heart racing, Carly stepped back quickly. The heated look in his eyes flustered her. She felt trapped.
With a toss of her head, she said, “That sounds like something you’d say to some poor dumb animal. One you were getting ready to brand.”
His lazy gaze slid down her from head to toe. “You interested?”
Her mouth went dry. “Don’t be ridiculous.”
“I notice you didn’t answer my question. Are you interested? In wearing by brand?”
“I’m not one of your horses or cows, Tyler.”
“T noticed. Believe me. That was one of the first things I noticed about you.”
His husky voice sent shivers down Carly’s spine.
“No, the first thing you noticed about me was that I made Amanda laugh. That’s the only reason I’m here, Tyler.”
His eyes flashed. “Is it?”
Dear Reader,
Those long days of summer sunshine are just around the comer—and Special Edition has six fabulous new books to start off the season right!
This month’s THAT’S MY BABY! title is brought to you by the wonderful Janis Reams Hudson. His Daughter’s Laughter tells the poignant tale of a widowed dad, his fragile little girl and the hope they rediscover when one extraordinary woman touches their lives.
June is the month of wedding bells—or in some cases, wedding blues. Be sure to check out the plight of a runaway bride who leaves one groom behind, only to discover another when she least expects it in Cowboy’s Lady—the next installment in Victoria Pade’s ongoing A RANCHING FAMILY miniseries. And there’s more romance on the way with award-winning author Ruth Wind’s Marriage Material— book one in THE LAST ROUNDUP, a new cross-line series with Intimate Moments about three brothers who travel the rocky road to love in a small Colorado town.
And speaking of turbulent journeys, in Remember Me? Jennifer Mikels tells a passionate love story about an amnesiac woman who falls for the handsome hero who rescues her from a raging rainstorm. Also in June, Shirley Larson presents That Wild Stallion—an emotional Western that’s sure to tug your heartstrings.
Finally, New York Times bestselling author Ellen Tanner Marsh lives up to her reputation with A Doctor in the House, her second Silhouette title. It’s all work and no play for this business executive until he meets his match in the form of one feisty Southern beauty in the Florida Keys!
I hope you enjoy all our summer stories this month!
Sincerely,
Tara Gavin
Senior Editor
Please address questions and book requests to:
Silhouette Reader Service
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His Daughter’s Laughter
Janis Reams Hudson
Books by Janis Reams Hudson
Silhouette Special Edition
Resist Me if You Can #1037
The Mother of His Son #1095
His Daughter’s Laughter #1105
JANIS REAMS HUDSON
is the author of twenty previous novels, both contempo- rary and historical romances. Her books have appeared on Waldenbooks, B. Dalton and Bookrak bestseller lists, earned numerous awards, including Reviewers’ Choice awards from Romantic Times and the prestigious National Readers’ Choice Award, and have been final- ists for several other awards, including the RITA Award from Romance Writers of America.
When not writing or researching her next novel, Janis devotes much of her time to various local and national- writers’ organizations. She currently serves as Immediate Past President and National Literacy Chairperson of Romance Writers of America, the world’s largest nonprofit genre writers’ organization.
Dear Reader,
We’ve all heard of the old saying that you can pick your friends, but you can’t pick your family. That’s true, as far as it goes. But families are not bound by blood alone. Sometimes the strongest links have nothing to do with blood ties, but are instead formed in the heart.
No matter how families are formed, they are the lifeblood of our world. Time and again families break apart and struggle to form themselves anew. In any family trouble, the children are both the strongest and the most easily hurt. Children take everything so personally, so literally. A thoughtless word can unintentionally scar a fragile young heart, can silence carefree childish laughter.
There is nothing more precious on earth than the innocent laughter of a child. This story is about a child who does not laugh, the father who aches for her, and the woman who can both heal this troubled family and be healed herself in the process.
It’s a story of tears and laughter and love, and comes straight from my heart. I hope you enjoy reading it even half as much as I enjoyed writing it.
Sincerely,
Chapter One
“Why do you want to leave her here?”
“I don’t want to.” Tyler Barnett rubbed his face, then let his hands fall to his lap. “She’s only six years old. I don’t want to leave her anywhere, but I don’t know what else to do. I can’t get the kind of help she needs at home. That last therapist terrified her. I was told you were the best. If the only way to help my daughter is leave her with my aunt and have her bring Amanda in for appointments, I’ll just have to find a way to live with it.”
“I don’t think it’s in Amanda’s best interest for you to leave her here.” Dr. Sanders folded his hands atop his spot- less desk blotter. “She’s obviously still suffering from the trauma of her mother’s death. She may very well look on your leaving her here as abandonment.”
Tyler clenched his fists against the hopelessness eating at him. “So what do I do? How do I help her?”
“I have a colleague in Cheyenne. Let me give him a call.”
Tyler nodded. “Fine. I appreciate it. But keep in mind, Cheyenne’s an eight-hour drive from my ranch.”
“I understand what you’re saying.”
“Do you? I said I’d do anything for Amanda, and I meant it. But if I have to shut down my training facilities and move to Cheyenne for several months—or longer—I’ll lose my income. Not only will I need to pay for her treat- ment, but we’d have to have a place to live. Don’t get me wrong. I’m not poor. I don’t care if her treatment costs me every penny I have. But if my money runs out before she’s well, and I have no income…” Frustrated, he shrugged.
“What about insurance?” Sanders asked.
Tyler shook his head. “Amanda hadn’t lived with me for two years before her mother died. She was covered on Deborah’s policy, but it didn’t cover this.”
“I see.” The doctor frowned. “How far are you from Jackson?”
“A couple of hours.”
“Let me talk to that colleague I mentioned and se
e what we can come up with. If you can stick around for a few minutes, I’ll call right now.”
Tyler nodded and pushed himself from the chair. “Thank you.” The two men shook hands. “I’ll be in the lounge with Amanda.”
In the hall, Tyler straightened his shoulders and put on a smile. He didn’t want Amanda to see the despair and tension eating at him. If Dr. Sanders couldn’t help, Tyler didn’t know what he would do.
The private, exclusive San Francisco clinic was hushed with quiet. Not the peace-giving quiet of his Wyoming sage flats, but the unnerving quiet of the hundreds of troubled souls who had passed through these halls over the years. The soft whish of his boots across the plush carpet made the skin on the back of his neck prickle.
At the end of the hall, Amanda and a young woman wearing a white lab coat over blue jeans were the only people in the waiting room. From her perch on the edge’ of a child-size chair, Amanda, her back to the hall, leaned toward the woman kneeling at her feet. Both were en- grossed in whatever they were doing with their hands. The woman laughed. She was a cute little thing with short, straight hair the same light golden chestnut shade as one of Tyler’s favorite stallions.
Then Tyler heard another sound that stopped him in his tracks and backed the breath up in his lungs. It squeezed his heart and flooded his eyes. Had he imagined it? Did he want to hear it so desperately that his ears had invented the sound to soothe his soul?
But, no, there it was again, soft and faint, but oh, so real. His heart kicked in with a giant thud against his sternum, and his lungs expanded to suck in air. Heat and ice rippled side by side down his spine. Light-headed, almost dizzy, Tyler sprinted the rest of the way to Amanda’s side and dropped to his knees. As he reached to touch her dark, precious head, his hand shook violently. “Amanda, honey?”
Amanda whipped her head around toward him, her blue- green eyes, the mirror image of his own, big and bright and filled with delight. Her lips parted in a silent smile; her eyes questioned.
Tyler scooped her up in his arms and stood. “Oh, baby, baby, you did it!” He hugged her tight, his eyes squeezed shut.
After a long, silent prayer of thanks, he opened his eyes and pulled back enough to see her face. “You laughed.” He planted a big kiss on her nose. “Oh, baby, you laughed out loud.”
Amanda’s eyes widened. Her lips moved. I did?
But no sound came. She put her hand to her throat and tried again. Nothing.
Disappointment stabbed sharp and quick, but Tyler ig- nored it. She had laughed. He’d heard her. This was more than the vague mumbling he’d heard one night in her sleep, which had assured him her inability to speak was not physical. This had been a wide-awake, broad-light-of-day, un- selfconscious laugh. If she did it once, she would do it again. He refused to let doubt and disappointment mar the moment.
“Yes,” he told his daughter with an uncontrollable smile. “You laughed. I heard you.
The child opened her mouth and worked her throat again. When nothing came out but breath, her brows drew to- gether in an agonized expression.
“Don’t worry, honey. It may take awhile, but your voice is coming back. It really is. Now,” he said, tweaking her nose to take her worry away. “What was so funny that I heard you laugh clear down the hall?”
With a silent giggle, Amanda pointed to the doctor or technician, whoever she was, still kneeling before the now- empty chair, watching the two with curiosity. The young woman’s hands seemed trapped in a tangle of string.
“She made you laugh?” he asked Amanda.
Amanda grinned and nodded vigorously.
Even that small, seemingly ordinary action thrilled Tyler and brought a lump to his throat. Since Deborah’s death, expressing an opinion of any kind was unusual for his too- docile daughter.
Tyler studied his child’s face, the relaxed happiness he saw there that had been missing for so long. “I promised we’d find somebody who could help you. You think maybe she’s the one?”
Amanda’s eyes widened with sheer delight. This time she nodded so hard her teeth clicked.
“Okay.” Tyler let her slide down his leg until she reached the floor. “I’ll see what I can do.”
Amanda ran to the young woman’s side and tugged on her arm until the woman stood. While the woman tried to extract her fingers from the web of string, Amanda dragged her forward.
“I’m Tyler Barnett,” he said, extending his hand. “Amanda’s father.”
Still focused on the struggle to free her fingers from the string, the young woman muttered a distracted, “Hang on.”
Her voice, soft, quiet, unexpectedly sexy, sent a warm tingling down Tyler’s spine, surprising him.
“There.” She pulled her fingers free of the tangle and met his gaze.
She looked young, he thought at his first full glimpse of her cute face. Mid-twenties at the most, with hair shorter than his, and eyes so big and brown they nearly swallowed her face.
But there was something in those eyes, something not young, not cute. Their expression spoke of…sadness? Was that what he saw?
He shook his head. Whatever was there was none of his business.
She shook his hand. “Carly Baker.”
Her firm, no-nonsense handshake was at odds with her pixie looks, her sad eyes and her soft, sexy voice. Yet as businesslike as her grip was, it could not disguise how tiny her hand felt in his, how soft and smooth and warm. Thrown off balance by the contrasts, Tyler released her slowly.
“I don’t know how you did it, but I’ll pay you to come home to Wyoming with us and do it again.”
The woman named Carly’ Baker blinked slowly. “Do what?”
For a moment, just one brief instant, even Tyler wasn’t sure what he was asking. But the child at his knee was never far from his thoughts. He took Amanda’s hand. “Make her laugh out loud again.”
The woman tilted her head, her eyes narrowed with sus- picion. “You’re kidding.”
“I’m not. That’s essentially the first sound she’s made in six months. She obviously responds to you. I’m offering to hire you to work with her. I’ll make it worth your while.”
Eyes still narrowed, she asked, “How much?”
The new pickup and enclosed horse trailer would have to wait another year or two. “Would fifty thousand lure you away from this place?”
Her eyes flew open wide. “Now I know you’re kid- ding.”
Hell, Tyler thought, how much did a few weeks of a child psychologist’s time cost these days? “All right, sev- enty-five, he offered, kissing the new bam goodbye.
“You’re a patient here, right?” the woman asked, one eye narrowed. “Suffering from delusions?”
“Look,” Tyler said, feeling her slip away from him. He needed her. Amanda needed her. He would just have to forgo buying that mare he’d looked at last week. Another horse would come along later. Maybe not as promising as Magnificent Cutter, but if he had to sell his right arm to help Amanda, he’d do it.
He took a deep breath. “Whatever you’ve got, my daughter needs it. I’ll make it a hundred thousand. Without selling some things I can’t afford to sell, that’s every dime I’ve got in the world.”
The woman blinked. “If you’re not a patient here, you should be.”
“He’s not crazy, Carly.”
Tyler and Carly turned to find Dr. Sanders leaning against the wall, looking as though he’d been there several minutes.
“And I think,” the doctor added, “that you should take him up on his offer.”
Carly rammed her hands, one of which still clutched a wad of string, into the deep pockets of her lab coat. “I think you’re just as nuts—”
“Before you get into that,” Dr. Sanders said, holding his palm out to stop her. He called to a woman heading down the hall toward them. “Stephanie, do you have a few minutes?”
The woman smiled. “Of course, Doctor. What can I do for you?”
Dr. Sanders reached a hand toward Amanda, and the g
irl took it. “This young lady, he said, “has had about all the tests she can stand for one day, but I still need the results from one more. Could you take her next door to the Baskin- Robbins ’laboratory’ and find out just how much ice cream she can eat without making herself sick? With her father’s permission, of course,” he added, turning toward Tyler.
Tyler wasn’t about to argue. Not with the gleam of plea- sure in Amanda’s eyes at the thought of ice cream, nor with the obvious support Dr. Sanders was offering in getting Carly Baker to cooperate.
“How ’bout it, funny face?” Tyler tweaked her nose. “Are you up to the test?”
Amanda looked from him to Dr. Sanders to the woman named Stephanie. Stephanie held out her hand and winked at her. Amanda looked back at Tyler with a shy smile.
“Well, okay,” he said with feigned worry. “If you’re sure you’re up to it.”
Amanda gave a careful nod and went off with Stephanie.
Carly Baker sat in one of the two armchairs before Eric Sanders’s desk. The man named Tyler Barnett tugged on the legs of his brown Western-style slacks and sat in the other. He looked hard. The chiseled features of his tanned face, including that hawklike nose and square jaw, his broad shoulders, flat stomach, even his callused hands, all looked carved from seasoned oak. Everything about him appeared rugged, solid and unyielding. Except when he’d smiled at his daughter.