href="#uc0cd41a4-e613-57d6-ab2e-4b13d5ff0415">Chapter Thirteen
Prologue
Sam Harrison stood in front of the house and gazed stoically at the SOLD banner nailed across the FOR SALE sign on the manicured green lawn. The small three-bedroom tract home wasn’t a mansion by any stretch of the imagination, but he’d been proud to present it to Paige as a wedding gift. Too bad his flight-attendant wife had been more excited about gaining a slot on a Denver-to-London flight than about having a home.
Living solo hadn’t been very rewarding. Thursday he’d been in Europe, Friday in Florida, and today he was home in Colorado. Except he had no home anymore.
Fifteen months ago he’d been happily married.
Fourteen months ago he’d learned he was to be a father.
Six months ago baby Annie came into the world and crept into his heart at first glance.
He’d been hurt, even humiliated at the divorce, but it was all his fault. He should have taken the time to find out if Paige had a nesting instinct, not an unfulfilled case of wanderlust.
The unexpected arrival of an infant daughter had been another gift that hadn’t pleased his ex-wife for long. The “friendly skies” still seemed to hold a greater charm than motherhood.
He didn’t mind losing the house, nor, now that he was able to think of it more dispassionately, did he mind the divorce. After Paige had announced their marriage had been a mistake, he’d taken no pleasure in staying where he wasn’t wanted. It was losing out at fatherhood that hurt.
After being persuaded a newborn baby was better off with her mother, it had been leaving Annie, a small part of himself, that broke his heart.
His ex-wife appeared in the doorway. “Good. You’re just in time. The movers will be here any moment.”
Sam took a deep breath and strode to meet her. “Sorry. I would have shown up sooner, but I had an assignment to finish.”
“You always have an assignment to finish,” she answered with a shrug. “Come on in—this won’t take long. I have your things here inside the door.”
Sam followed her into the house and briefly thought of the broken dreams the house represented. “I’ll leave as soon as I say goodbye to Annie.”
Under Paige’s watchful eye, he went into the bedroom where Annie was sleeping on her back with a tiny finger in her rosebud mouth. She looked so peaceful he didn’t have the heart to wake her. Instead, he tucked the blanket closer around her tiny shoulders and leaned over to place a kiss on her forehead. He held his breath when Annie stirred. For a hopeful moment Sam thought she was about to open her eyes. Instead, a frown appeared on her forehead, and she fell back to sleep.
Paige lingered by the doorway. “You really go for this fatherhood bit, don’t you?”
Sam swallowed the lump that threatened to undermine his reluctant acceptance of the status quo. He’d wanted to be a father from the moment he’d lost his own father as a young boy. A loving father who would be there for his child. To watch over his child in good times and in bad and to give it the security he hadn’t been lucky enough to know himself.
For too short a time marriage to Paige and Annie’s arrival seemed to fulfill that dream. As for leaving Annie, he understood a baby needed to be with her mother, but at least he’d gotten visiting rights. Maybe even weekend custody or holidays when she grew older.
Ignoring Paige’s comment, he took in the heart-shaped baby face, the golden-brown eyelashes, the tendrils of light-brown hair and the tiny lips that had accepted him without question. What would he do without her?
He turned to look at Paige. “Can’t we stay friends? For Annie’s sake if not our own?”
Paige hesitated, glanced at the sleeping baby. “Sure, I guess.”
With a last look at his infant daughter, Sam straightened. “Thanks. By the way, you will let me know when you get to your mother’s, won’t you? I’d like to made some arrangements to see Annie as often as I can.”
His ex-wife shrugged. “Sure.”
Sam went to the door, lifted a box that contained some of his personal belongings and headed for his rental car just as a moving van drove up. “I’ll be back in a minute,” he said over his shoulder. “I want to make sure I get the photography equipment I left in the garage.” Paige went into the house.
Fifteen minutes later Sam reappeared around the front of the house with a box in his arms. The rest of his belongings and his suitcase had been moved. Paige stood by the side of his SUV.
“I had one of the movers put your things in the car for you,” she said, and held out her hand. “I guess this is goodbye.”
“Thanks,” he answered dryly as he shook her hand. With a last regretful glance at the house, he got into the SUV, waved once and drove away.
Chapter One
A baby cried.
Clicking off the car radio, Sam peered anxiously at the map furnished by the car-rental agency in Grand Junction and frowned. He didn’t know what bothered him more: finding himself on an unmarked county road or the unwelcome reminder he’d left his infant daughter behind with his ex-wife a few hours ago.
As much as he would have liked to be a real father, he’d never managed to spend more than an hour or two with Annie. First, because he’d never felt welcome in his own home, and second, because his obsession with photography kept getting in the way. Which condition had contributed to his divorce was beyond him, but this proposed shared custody when Annie was older twisted in his gut.
He consoled himself with the thought that he’d be able to see the baby between assignments. And that when she got old enough for him to care for, he’d call in his shared-custody rights. Until then, she was better off with someone who knew how to take care of her.
Suddenly aware he should have been at his destination by now, his thoughts turned to the immediate problem.
As a photojournalist, he’d flown, driven and hiked to more offbeat and secluded places than he could count. He’d won half-a-dozen awards for his photo stories and had the trophies to prove it. Heck, he was even an internationally known photojournalist.
Until today, he’d managed to find his way around without a problem. So how in hell had he managed to get himself lost on a dirt road on the western slopes of the Colorado Rockies?
He didn’t really mind getting lost, he told himself as he peered out the window, trying to pinpoint his present location. The surrounding terrain was beautiful and so photogenic his fingers itched to grab his camera. He’d start shooting the miles of fresh green grass that, after last night’s rain, glistened in the afternoon sun. Or he’d capture the shadows cast by the ragged mountains just beyond the horizon.
Too bad he’d packed his cameras in the back, he thought wryly. He couldn’t reach one without pulling off the road and rummaging through the boxes packed on the back seat of the car. Or in the cargo space, which was full of his belongings.
With a rain-soaked dirt road under the wheels, capturing on film the majestic green peaks was tempting, but it would have to wait until he reached his destination. If ever.
Getting lost really bothered him. Losing control. He was a man who wrote his own rules, traveled when, where and how he wanted and lived the good life. In his book, that meant being in charge.
To his growing disgust, he wasn’t in charge now.
In the background, he heard a baby whimper.
Sam frowned and checked the car radio. It wasn’t