Daddy with a Deadline by Marilyn Shank Page B

shower for Annie, including me, but she’s so independent that she won’t put anyone out. She finally said she might let us throw one after the babies arrive.”
    “My housekeeper suggested making the shower a surprise.”
    “Hmm. What a great idea! That way Annie Samuels, self-made woman, won’t get to vote. I’m all for it.”
    Trent expelled a sigh. “You know her pretty well.”
    “Annie’s my best friend, and I’ll help you all I can. But Doc Newsome says my baby could come early, so I may be out of circulation soon.”
    “Then we’d better get moving,” Trent said, as if he had a clue on how to proceed. “Rosa doesn’t know who to invite.”
    “Why don’t I collect names and phone numbers of some teachers in our building. And we can invite Mrs. Higginbotham, Annie’s next-door neighbor.”
    “Great.”
    “Do you have a day in mind?”
    “How’s Saturday? At one thirty?”
    “Works for me. Tell Rosa I’ll help fix refreshments and organize the games. And I’ll call her with that list of names.”
    The weight of the world lifted from Trent’s shoulders. “I see why Annie likes you.”
    “I see why she likes you too.” Sara’s dark eyes danced with mischief.
    “Annie hates me. The woman shoots down every suggestion I make and argues with me nonstop.”
    Sara giggled. “That means she likes you.”
    “Is she this cantankerous at school?”
    “Yes. But she’s also the best teacher I know. And I’d never have survived my pregnancy without her.”
    Trent handed Sara his card. “Here’s the phone number at the ranch. Thanks for your help.”
    “Thanks for including me.”
    “Are you kidding? I couldn’t pull it off without you.”
    And he meant every word.
    As Trent headed for his truck, he felt desperate for a dose of normalcy. Maybe he could spend tonight with Wildfire. Working with an untamed horse might restore his perspective. And help him forget about pregnant women and baby showers!
    The day Brad’s letter came, Trent’s world had shifted on its axis. He’d give anything to resume his former life, but he didn’t know how.

     
    Annie patted the fender of the shiny car parked in her driveway. “Now listen up. I intend to learn how to drive a stick shift. And I expect you to cooperate.”
    She squared her shoulders and wriggled into the driver’s seat. “By the way, your name is Pete,” she said. After starting the engine, Annie shifted into reverse and backed up.
    To her surprise, the car didn’t lurch as much as yesterday. Not having a drop-dead-gorgeous cowboy riding shotgun helped. “That’s the spirit, Pete. Let’s try that again.”
    For the next thirty minutes Annie backed out of her driveway and pulled back in again. Whenever the car sputtered, she willed it to keep running, and it usually did. She smiled smugly. So a pregnant woman, almost ready to deliver, could learn new things!
    Heady with success, Annie ventured into traffic. The longer she drove, the more confident she felt. She’d show that obnoxious cowboy. She pulled onto the highway and drove toward Copper Creek Ranch.
    When she arrived and spotted Trent in the corral, Annie’s heart did a backflip. Even from a distance the man looked strong and commanding. And he moved with power and grace.
    Behave yourself
, she told her heart. But it paid no attention.
    She parked next to Rosa’s Neon and climbed out. Trent spotted her and waved his Stetson. As he came toward her with long, sure strides, Annie’s heart did a happy dance.
    Today the cowboy wore faded jeans with a rip in one knee—an endearing touch. “How did this car get here?” he demanded. “Did you have it towed?”
    Annie lifted her chin. “I drove it myself. Very well, I might add. Pete never died once.”
    “Pete?”
    “The car. It looks like a Pete, don’t you think?”
    He shook his head and smirked. “You’re a strange lady, Annie Samuels. A mighty strange lady.” The warmth in Trent’s tone prevented a counterattack.
    A