The Troublesome Angel by Valerie Hansen Read Free Book Online Page B

“Nonsense. It’ll only take a few minutes. A promise is a promise. I make it a rule to never break mine.” She eyed Missy and added, “Especially where kids are concerned.”
    Stalling while he decided what to do, Graydon checked his watch. “All right. I’ll give you fifteen minutes.”
    “Thirty.”
    “Twenty,” he growled.
    “Twenty-five?”
    “Don’t push it.”
    “Okay, okay. But I can’t show you everything in a few minutes. You’ll have to come back and visit again.” She flashed a hopeful smile in Missy’s direction. The child looked close to tears. She’d stopped eating her ice cream bar when her uncle had announced that they were leaving. The melted sweet was running down her arm. Lewis was seated by her side, gently licking it off her elbow before it could drip onto the porch.
    “I won’t promise that,” Graydon said flatly. “I don’t make promises I can’t keep, either.”
    “Fair enough.” She smiled down at the little girl. “Missy, you wait here and finish your ice cream. I’ll be right back.” The child simply nodded. It broke Stacy’s heart to see her so unhappy.
    Focusing on the stubborn man who’d spoiled the lighthearted spirit of the visit, Stacy gestured toward an open field. It stood separate from the kennel and enclosed yard where she exercised her dogs-in-training. “If you’d care to help me, Mr. Payne, we can have a short course set up in a few minutes.”
    He couldn’t think of a polite reason to refuse. The sooner she got her demonstration under way, the sooner he’d be out of there, which sounded good to him.
    With a deep sigh, he followed, carefully shutting the gate behind him so the dogs wouldn’t get out, then rolling up his shirtsleeves. “Okay. What do you want me to do?”
    “I’ll need those boxes over there.” Stacy pointed. “And the cart with the wooden dumbbells and gloves in it. While you’re at it, slip one of them on, will you?”
    “Put the gloves on?”
    “That’s right. One’s enough. Just keep it on till I tell you to take it off.”
    Graydon did as he was told, fascinated in spite of himself. The gloves were old and dusty, as if they’d been around for years. If Stacy’s dogs couldtell which one he’d worn, with all the other scents that must already be on the worn fabric, he’d be thoroughly impressed.
    He used his gloved hand to pull the cart, intending to obscure his scent and make the test as difficult as possible.
    “Watch where you walk,” Stacy cautioned, leading the way. “Stay on the paths. I haven’t mowed this field lately so there are probably a few ticks and chiggers lurking in the long grass.”
    “Terrific.”
    “I thought you’d like it.” She giggled again.
    “Is that why you asked me to help you?”
    “No.” She lowered her voice. “I wanted a chance to talk to you…alone.” Glancing back at the porch she decided they were far enough away to converse without being overheard. “Missy told me her daddy died. What about her mother? Where’s she?”
    “Died in childbirth,” he answered softly. “Her father raised her by himself.”
    “Which explains why they were so close. What about other family? Relatives? Surely there’s someone who can take her in.”
    Graydon stiffened. “Meaning Mark and Candace aren’t fit parents?”
    Stacy felt like clobbering him. Instead, she did the Christian thing and faced him squarely, hands on her hips. “No, Mr. Payne. Meaning a child feels lost enough when a parent dies. I was hoping there might be somebody else Missy already knows whocould at least befriend her long enough to convince her she’s not all alone in the world.”
    With a deep sigh he shook his head. “There’s nobody.” The glistening of tears in Stacy’s eyes surprised him. “What makes you care so much?”
    “Never mind,” Stacy said. She wiped her eyes, blinked rapidly and changed the subject. “Boy, the sun is sure bright today. Really makes my eyes water. Guess I should have