Skye opened the door to the study and stepped inside the room. The two men stood next to the pool table. Jed didn’t bother acknowledging her while T.J. looked momentarily uncomfortable. As if he wondered whether she’d heard him condemn her with faint praise.

She smiled as she offered the successful businessman his drink, wishing she’d thought to spit in it first.

“T.J.,” she said.

“Skye.”

He was good-looking, in a blond, blue-eyed sort of way. Tall and well dressed. He was a Texas boy and was probably charming, but it was hard to notice when the unenthusiastic “I guess that would work, too” was bouncing around in her brain.

She set the appetizers on the table in the corner. “Is there anything else, Daddy?” she asked.

“That’s all, Skye.”

“Then I’ll say good-night.”

Her hostess duties completed, her temper still firing, albeit silently, she left the room and walked to the stairs. Once on the third floor, she made her way to the last room on the left. During the day, it was a bright open space done in primary colors. A big bed sat by the window overlooking the main pasture. At night, shadows closed in, but seven-year-old Erin was never afraid of the dark. She wasn’t afraid of anything. A quality she must have inherited from her father, Skye thought enviously.

Now Erin lay sleeping, a tiny curled-up bump under the covers. Skye sat on the edge of the bed and stared down at her child.

“I love you, Bunny Face,” she whispered.

Erin didn’t stir.

Skye rose and walked the few feet to her own bedroom. Her younger-by-a-year sister, Izzy, sprawled on the big bed, watching television. She muted the sound when Skye entered.

“Don’t you have a TV in your own room?” Skye asked.

“Sure, but using yours is more fun. Who’s the guy?”