Erin's Way Read Free Page A

nothing seemed to have changed. To Stoner, Erin was still a problem to be handled and hidden.
    Sam’s mouth tightened. He wanted to punch Stoner, or at the very least knock some sense into the man. Erin wasn’t a problem. She was Stoner’s daughter. Sam hammered the wire staple with enough force to anchor it in one swing. He was just as mad at himself as he was at Stoner. He had treated her the same way the last time she’d shown up. For a few minutes last fall, as he took her back to her parents’ house, he’d gotten a glimpse through the attitude and seen the loneliness she so successfully hid. Something inside him had responded immediately, just as he’d always responded to her, but there’d been no chance to explore it before she had once again fled. Now she was back, and he had to wonder why.
    Sam hammered the last fence staple in place, then hefted his wire and fence tools. “Thanks, gentlemen. That should hold everything until morning.”
    “No problem,” Stoner’s foreman replied. “’Night.”
    Carter climbed back into his truck, started the engine, and turned around, saluting Stoner and Sam as he drove back down the road to the caretaker’s house where he and his young wife lived. Sam and Stoner walked side-by-side back to the truck without saying a word. Sam tossed the fence tools and the wire into the bed before opening the back door to check on Erin.
    She was still there. Sam refused to examine why it mattered so much to him. His heart beat in a heavier rhythm as he took stock of her. She was curled into a ball on the back seat, her shapely little jean clad derriere pointed right at him. He pulled his glove off and checked her pulse. Steadier than his, that was for sure. He frowned when she didn’t stir and looked across the seat to Stoner.
    “She’s always been a heavy sleeper,” he said.
    Stoner climbed in the passenger side in back and sat next to his daughter. It surprised Sam, but then Stoner was a changed man, so perhaps things would be different for Erin this time. Sam hoped so. The thought made his gut unknot a hitch.
    “Erin, honey!” Stoner said. “Sit up. Let’s see that head.”
    She struggled to open her eyes, blinking owlishly. Her brow furrowed as her glance went from side to side as though not sure where she was. When she finally focused on him, he saw no recognition in their depths. Sam wasn’t sure if it was from the pot, the injury, or sheer exhaustion. She looked like hell.
    “Think she needs to go to the hospital?” Sam asked.
    Stoner shot him a meaningful look. “Your house is closer. Can we take her there for now? I still have to tell Catherine. It will be enough of a shock for her that Erin’s here, but I hate to show up with her in this shape.” Stoner’s expression pleaded, and that made Sam very uncomfortable. Stoner Richardson didn’t beg for anything.
    Sam frowned as he looked at Erin. No hospital—because she didn’t need it or because Stoner didn’t want the embarrassment? Sam clenched his jaw, trying to leave his personal feelings out of it.
    The cut wasn’t bad. It looked more like a friction burn, probably from the airbag, so chances were she didn’t have a concussion.
    “She’s your daughter, Stoner.”
    “You think I don’t know that? You think this is something new? It’s happened so often before, Sam, all through high school. We tried rehab…shit!” Stoner’s jaw worked as he stared out the window, his fist clenching and unclenching.
    Sam sighed. Stoner’s struggle to handle Erin’s abrupt and unexpected appearance was obvious, and it made Sam’s heart ache. As much as he knew having anything to do with Erin would be like volunteering to step into a snake pit, he couldn’t stop himself. He’d never been able to when it came to anything having to do with her.
    “Yeah. Stay here,” he finally told Stoner. “I’ll see if she has a suitcase.”
    Sprinting back to the car, he found a small purse and a duffel bag in the trunk. Not