Kiss an Angel(105)

She turned to him, and her chin trembled. “I don’t care if I ever see you again.”

Something terrible ripped into his gut. “You don’t mean that.”

“I wish you weren’t my father.”

“Heather . . .”

“I don’t love you. I didn’t ever love you.” Dry-eyed and stony-faced, she gazed straight at him. “I loved Mom, but not you.”

“Don’t say that, honey.”

“You should be happy. It means you don’t have to feel bad about not loving me.”

“Who said I don’t love you? Damn it, did those boys tell you that?”

“You told me.”

“I never did. What the hell are you talking about?”

“You told me in a million ways.” She shifted the backpack onto one shoulder. “I’m sorry about what happened with the money, but I already told you that. I’ve got to get on the plane now. Don’t bother calling me. I’ll be too busy with my schoolwork to talk to you.”

Turning away, she flashed her boarding pass at the flight attendant and disappeared down the jetway.

What had he done? What did she mean he’d told her in a million ways that he didn’t love her? Jesus, Mary, and Joseph, he’d screwed up bad. All he’d wanted was the best for her. It was a hard world, and you had to be tough raising kids or they’d turn out to be a bunch of bums. But he’d never wanted this.

He knew then that he couldn’t let her go. Sheba and Daisy had been right all along.

He pushed past the flight attendant and bellowed down the jetway. “Heather Pepper, you come back here right this minute!”

The alarmed flight attendant stepped in front of him. “Sir, can I help you with something?”

The passengers directly between him and Heather turned to see what the commotion was, but Heather kept walking. “You come back here! You hear me?”

“Sir, I’ll have to call security. If there’s a problem—”

“You go ahead and call them. That’s my daughter, and I want her back.”

Heather had nearly reached the door of the plane by the time he got to her. “No daughter of mine is going to talk to me like that! No way!” He pulled her to the side and gave her the piece of his mind she deserved. “If you think you’re going off to your Aunt Terry’s with that kind of attitude, you’re wrong. You’re getting your butt back to the circus, young lady, and I hope you liked cleaning up after those bulls because that’s what you’re going to be doing all the way back to Florida.”

She stared up at him, and her eyes were so large they looked like blue mint candies. “I get to stay?”

“You’re damn right you’re staying, and I don’t want to hear another word of disrespect.” His voice broke. “I’m your father, and you damn well better love me the same way I love you, or you’ll be sorry.”

The next thing he knew, he was grabbing her, and she was grabbing him, and all the bozos coming down the jetway trying to get past them were jabbing them with bags and briefcases, but he didn’t care. He was holding tight to this daughter he loved so desperately, and he wasn’t ever going to let her go.



It was Monday night, the show had a rare evening off, and Alex had asked Daisy out for a date. Soft music filtered through the dimly lit dining room of the expensive downtown Indianapolis restaurant, where they were tucked away in a corner banquette.

Now that she was no longer worried about Glenna, she felt as if a weight had been lifted from her shoulders. Adding to her well-being was the fact that Brady had returned from the airport today with Heather. He’d been prickly as a porcupine when Daisy had asked him what had happened, but she noticed that he’d kept Heather at his side for most of the day. And Heather hadn’t looked so happy all summer.

In some ways Daisy thought these past two weeks had been the best in her life. Alex had been so tender and affectionate that he hardly seemed like the same man. She’d made up her mind to tell him about the baby tonight, although she was still working out exactly what she would say.

He smiled at her, and he looked so handsome her heart did a crazy little flip-flop. Most rugged men didn’t wear suits well, but he was a definite exception.

“You look beautiful tonight.”

“I was afraid I’d forgotten how to dress up.” For once she didn’t feel compelled to tell him how much better her mother would have looked, maybe because her appearance was no longer as important to her as it once had been. She’d spent so many days in jeans and a ponytail without a stitch of make-up on her face that tonight she felt quite glamorous.

“I give you my personal guarantee that you haven’t forgotten a thing.”

She smiled. For their dinner out, she was wearing the only nice outfit she had, a bone silk charmeuse tank with a short, bias cut skirt in the same fabric. She’d made a belt from a long, antique gold scarf, looping it twice around her waist and letting the fringed ends dangle. Her jewelry consisted of her wedding band and a pair of chunky matte-gold earrings. Because she hadn’t wanted to waste money on haircuts, her hair was longer than she’d worn it in years, and after so many weeks of keeping it up in a ponytail, it felt incredibly sexy brushing her neck and floating above her shoulders.

Their waiter appeared and set two salads before them, each one a combination of artichoke hearts, pea pods, and cucumber dressed with raspberry vinaigrette and a crumble of feta cheese.