Why? What’s happened?”
“There’s been an accident,” he said, not looking at her. But then, he rarely did, or if he chanced a glance at Annabelle, he tended to look faintly off-balance with a kind of polite indifference in his hazel eyes. At least that wasn’t like her parents who’d so often expressed some criticism or issued a new command. Clean those tables now, Annabelle, or, Don’t even think of leaving early for some high school football game. No one there will miss you. As an adult her motto was If I’m nice, as perfect as can be, I won’t get hurt again. But even with her parents gone, she was still trying to suppress the pain their unkindness had caused.
Her mouth went dry. She could barely ask the question. “Sierra’s hurt?”
Annabelle tried to envision a minor fender bender, but he wouldn’t look as serious about that. Finn touched her shoulder, so briefly she wondered if she’d imagined it, but even his warm hand couldn’t penetrate the ice forming inside her. The growing horror. Was Sierra...dead?
As if she’d spoken aloud, he shook his head and said, “I’m sorry—her condition looks pretty serious. It was a bad accident.”
Annabelle tried to process the news, but all she could say was, “Where?”
“About a mile outside of town she collided with Ned Sutherland’s pickup. We don’t know for sure which driver was responsible. Your cousin is on her way by ambulance to Farrier General.”
Annabelle glanced inside the diner half-full of patrons even this late in the evening. Ned, who owned the NLS Ranch, was getting up in years. His granddaughter was her friend, and Annabelle knew she worried about him. “I didn’t think he was even driving since his stroke. That’s terrible. About Sierra, too. I admit, I haven’t seen her in years—”
She broke off. Once, she and Sierra had been as close as sisters, but in their teens, they had drifted to occasional phone calls. And even those had stopped. Except for one, much more recent, Annabelle remembered with a pang of sorrow. So why had Sierra been close to Barren?
“Did you know about her little girl?” Finn asked.
“Yes, Sierra sent me a text when she was born, a little over three years ago, I think, but that’s all I know. She hadn’t picked a name yet.”
“It’s Emmie,” he informed her.
Annabelle’s throat closed, and something tugged deep at her heart. Emmie. Sierra’s daughter was still hardly more than a baby. Now her mother was in the hospital and this child Annabelle had never met had become real. “Is she okay?”
“Scared, as you’d expect, but unharmed physically,” he said. “Which is a miracle.”
Annabelle looked away from Finn’s dark hair, which under the streetlights appeared brushed with gold. How inappropriate her thoughts of him had been only minutes ago. He had no real interest in her. A relative newcomer to the area, he’d already been labeled a loner.
She shivered but not from the cold. During that last phone call with Sierra a few weeks ago, she hadn’t mentioned Emmie, and when she abruptly hung up, Annabelle’s questions about her had gone unanswered.
With a slight frown Finn eyed the goose bumps on her arms and she rubbed her bare skin. “I only stepped out for a minute,” she said. To see the for sale sign—to pinch herself that, at last, her dream would become real. “My customers are waiting for me. But I’ll have to close the diner.”
“I’m sorry, Annabelle,” he said again. “I didn’t mean to be blunt, but I’m not good at giving news of this kind. In fact, I wish it wasn’t a part of my job. You must be upset. Let me give you a ride to the hospital.”
She couldn’t quell the thought that flashed through her mind. Upset didn’t begin to cover it, and she wasn’t a selfish person, but the timing of this couldn’t be worse. She was a blink away from freaking out, yet anything she might say would make Finn see her in a bad light. And with that, another bolt of guilt shot through her. For now, she couldn’t dwell on her plan to leave Barren before she knew if Sierra would be all right. As for the little girl...
“Where’s...Emmie now?”
“With one of my deputies at the station. Is there someone else I should contact?” Finn asked. “A husband? Or boyfriend? I thought not, since you were listed as the next of kin on the card in her wallet.”
That was a surprise. Another shock, really. She and Sierra hadn’t seen each other in a long time and they hadn’t parted on good terms. “As far as I know, I don’t think she’s ever married. I wouldn’t know about any boyfriends. I’ll take that ride to Farrier General, thanks,” she added. “I know I’m not good to drive right now.” She needed to see Sierra for herself, see that she wasn’t in as bad a condition as Finn had said. But that wasn’t all. “What will happen to her little girl—to Emmie—tonight?”
Finn squared his shoulders. “Maybe you can tell me. Either she goes home with you,” he said, “or I turn her over to child services. I like the first option better.”
AT THREE O’CLOCK the next morning, little Emmie woke up shrieking.
Bleary-eyed, heart instantly in her throat, Annabelle jerked upright in bed, ears alert to the sound of tears from across the upstairs hallway. This wasn’t the first time Emmie had stirred, and Annabelle was already at her wit’s end. “I know nothing about taking care of a small child,” she’d told Finn earlier.
Yet there was no way she would have let the State take over tonight. Emmie was Annabelle’s, what, first cousin once removed? Second cousin? She wasn’t sure of the proper term. Anyway, a relative, and with Annabelle’s parents gone, Sierra and her daughter were the only—if estranged—family Annabelle had left. Even more, Emmie had witnessed a terrible event last night, and she was a vulnerable child. Without her mother, she must feel utterly alone and obviously frightened, not that Annabelle had seemed able to comfort her fears before. What should I do?
She slipped out of bed and reached for her robe. The night had cooled even more, probably another ten degrees, and her heat wasn’t on yet for the season. The last time Annabelle checked on Emmie, the child’s feet had felt like ice cubes. If she stays more than a night or two here... Annabelle would have to get the HVAC system going.
But surely this arrangement would be brief. She padded across the hall, cracked open the door then eased into the spare room, taking care not to let the hinge squeak—which it had for her entire thirty-one years.
She was simply the babysitter until other plans could be made or Sierra got out of the hospital, not that I know what I’m doing.
As she crossed the bedroom, Annabelle dragged her growing guilt like a ball and chain. Certainly, for reasons of her own she hadn’t been that eager to take Emmie in. Just hours before Sierra had called a few weeks ago, Annabelle had paid the first half of her own tuition to attend a two-week course at a well-regarded academy in Denver that would train her to be an international tour director, a first commitment to the future she wanted for herself. Weeks before that she’d sent in her registration fee and a hefty first deposit, using part of the money her parents had left her. Annabelle tried not to feel guilty that she was using her inheritance
