Daddy Lessons. Stella BagwellЧитать онлайн книгу.
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Joe McCann on Fatherhood:
Dear Megan,
For ten years I had to watch you grow through only snapshots and weekend visits. Then the unexpected chance came for me to be your full-time father, and I was thrilled at the prospect of having my daughter back in my life again.
When you moved into the house with your loud rock music, messy room and headstrong attitude, I was lost. I realized I didn’t know how to be a father. Much less a father to a teenage daughter. All I knew was that I loved you and wanted you to be happy.
Then Savanna stepped in and taught me that being a father didn’t necessarily mean seeing that you went to private school or trying to give you the very best of everything. It simply meant loving you. And I do, my little darling. I do.
Daddy
Daddy Lessons
Stella Bagwell
STELLA BAGWELL
has written close to seventy novels for Silhouette Books. She credits her longevity in the business to her loyal readers and hopes her stories have brightened their lives in some small way.
A cowgirl through and through, she loves to watch old Westerns, and has recently learned how to rope a steer by the horns and the feet. Her days begin and end helping her husband care for a beloved herd of horses on their little ranch located on the south Texas coast. When she’s not ropin’ and ridin’, you’ll find her at her desk, creating her next tale of love.
The couple have a son, who is a high school math teacher and athletic coach.
To Jason, who’s dedicated his life
to giving lessons.
Contents
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 One
Savanna Starr furiously pumped the handle of the hydraulic jack and tried to ignore the honks of the traffic whizzing by her. She was fully aware that she and her Volkswagen Beetle were creating a road hazard. But, darn it, I-40 in downtown Oklahoma City wasn’t blessed with a lot of shoulder to safely park on, and she could hardly keep driving with a tire that resembled a black pancake!
Even though it wasn’t yet eight in the morning, the June sun was unbelievably hot. As she worked to jack the little car off its back left wheel, Savanna could feel perspiration popping out beneath her linen shift, on her brow and upper lip.
Great, just great, she muttered to herself. By the time she got to her new job she was going to be covered with sweat and grease. What was her boss going to think?
Never mind that, she told herself as she hurriedly grabbed the spare tire from the trunk and heaved it to the ground. What was he going to say if, God forbid, she was late?
Joe McCann poured himself a cup of coffee from the pot he’d brewed forty minutes ago, then peeped through the slatted blinds on the window.
Where was she? It was fifteen minutes past eight. Joe knew his full-time secretary, Edie, had clearly informed the temporary service that he expected the new girl to be here in the office at eight. That didn’t mean fifteen after!
Hell, he snorted to himself as he sank back into a leather desk chair. He should have interviewed the woman himself. Now, while Edie was away on maternity leave, he was going to have to put up with some irresponsible nitwit in the office for six long weeks. With a pile of worries already on his mind, he didn’t know how he could deal with that, too.
McCann Drilling, the company his late father had built from the ground up, was crying for business. And then there was Megan, his thirteen-year-old daughter. She’d only been back in his life for less than a week now and he was learning what it was like to be a full-time parent all over again.
Damn it all, he silently cursed, a lax secretary was the last thing he needed!
Three miles away, Savanna tossed the lug wrench in with the dilapidated tire and hydraulic jack, slammed the trunk, then jumped back into the driver’s seat. She couldn’t believe her luck. A flat tire and not one person had stopped to offer her a helping hand. She’d strained and tugged at least ten minutes just to loosen the lug nuts. So much for chivalry these days!
After a quick glance over her shoulder, Savanna merged the little orange car back into the heavy stream of traffic, then jammed the accelerator all the way to the floor. She wasn’t worried about getting a speeding ticket. Right now she was more concerned about Joe McCann. According to his secretary, he was a stickler for punctuality.
The thought dared Savanna to glance at her wristwatch. What she saw made her wail loud enough to drown out the rock music playing on the radio. “I’m twenty minutes late! I’m going to be fired before I ever go to work!”
Back at the McCann Drilling office, Joe got up from his desk, tossed the remainder of his coffee into the trash, then began to pace around the sparsely furnished room. He didn’t like waiting for anyone or anything. It was a waste of time.
His mother had often told him that he needed to be more patient with people. And Joe figured that was probably true now that he was trying to deal with his daughter. But he’d always lived his life by hard discipline. He didn’t know how to be patient with his employees or his daughter.
The thought of Megan had him pausing by the corner of his desk where her photo sat smiling up at him. He hated to admit it, but he didn’t know her. At least, not in the ways that really counted. But since his divorce ten years ago he’d been forced to watch her grow up through snapshots and brief weekends spent together in the summer months.
Then a month ago he’d been surprised by a call from his ex-wife, Deirdre. Her husband’s job was taking them to Africa and she believed it would be best for Megan to remain in the States and live with her father.
Joe had been quick to agree. He hadn’t wanted his daughter in a country where civil unrest was rampant and living conditions less than ideal, to say the least. Moreover, for years he’d wanted full custody of his daughter and he wasn’t about to pass up the chance.
But so far, having Megan living under the same roof with him was nothing like he’d expected it to be. Fathering a teenage girl around the clock was like handling a stick of dynamite. One wrong word brought on an explosion. And most of the time he was the one doing the exploding!
The squeal of brakes and the slam of a car door brought Joe out of his thoughts. Quickly he walked over to the window and glanced out the blinds.
An orange Volkswagen Beetle was parked next to his pickup truck. No one was in the ancient little car, and he could only guess that the blond woman streaking up the sidewalk to the front entrance of the building had been the driver.
Could that have been his new secretary? Surely not! She’d looked like a teenager!
Joe sat at his desk, but before he had time to consider that horrible idea the tapping of high heels sounded outside in the corridor, then a softer knock came at the door.
Leaning up in his seat, Joe sucked in