Free Renee Ryan by The Outlaw's Redemption Page A

playing indoors or out, or both. Things her aunt probably already knew about the girl.
    His gaze sought Annabeth’s again. She smiled politely in his direction but didn’t quite make eye contact. It was as if she looked right through him.
    He understood.
    Wasn’t that the same expression he’d worn most of his adult life? On Annabeth, the look made her seem wounded and lonely.
    They’d all suffered from Maria’s lies. Sarah, praise God, seemed to have made it through her young life unscathed. By all outward appearances, she was happy and well-adjusted. Hunter owed that blessing to Marc and Laney Dupree.
    And Annabeth, too. He couldn’t forget her influence on his daughter. Sarah was a healthy, normal child because of the people in her life.
    Hunter made a decision, then and there. The time for sorrow was over. There would be no more pain, no more anger, and definitely no more lies in any of their lives, only down-to-the-bone honesty from this moment forward.
    He waited for the child to take a breath. “Sarah, I have something to tell you.”
    “You do?” She looked up at him with mild curiosity in her eyes. “Is it a secret?”
    “It is,” he confirmed, laughing at her excited gasp.
    “Oh. I like secrets.”
    “Most women do.”
    She nodded sagely, her face a study in little girl seriousness. “That’s because we’re good at keeping them to ourselves.”
    Not in Hunter’s experience. And definitely not the point. “Once I tell you this secret you don’t have to keep it to yourself. You can tell anyone you wish.”
    “Oh.” The bonnet slipped from her fingers to the floor. She leaned over and picked it up again, her smile wavering. “I suppose that’s good, too.”
    Sarah’s uncertain expression reminded Hunter of Maria. He waited for the anger to come, the frustration over not being able to confront his first wife about her deception. All he felt was regret for what might have been. No matter what Maria had done, or why, Sarah would never know her mother.
    From this day forth she would know her father. “Sarah, I’m your fa—”
    “Hunter . ” Annabeth cut him off, pushing past Sarah and settling in a spot directly between him and his daughter. “I’d like a word with you in private.”
    He gave her a hard look. “Now?”
    “Now.”
    So much for not interfering.
    “But, Aunt Annabeth.” Sarah scooted around her aunt and jammed her fists on her hips. “Mr. Mitchell was about to tell me a secret.”
    “Yes, I know.” A slight hesitation. “And he still will.” A heavy sigh. “After I speak with him first.”
    Clearly confused, Sarah looked from her aunt to Hunter and back again. “Can’t whatever you have to say to him wait?”
    “No, dear, it can’t.”
    “But—”
    “No arguments.” Annabeth cut her off with a firm shake of her head, then smoothed a hand over the child’s hair in a gentle show of affection. “Mrs. Smythe is baking cookies in the kitchen. I’m sure she’d welcome your help.”
    “Yes, that sounds like fun, but—”
    Annabeth cut her off again. “Go help Mrs. Smythe, now. ”
    The command was spoken firmly and with unbending authority.
    This time, Sarah clamped her mouth shut. With a mutinous twist to her lips, she cast a silent appeal in Hunter’s direction.
    Knowing better than to get in the middle of a fray between the two females, he raised his hands in the universal show of surrender.
    Sarah’s face fell.
    He could hardly bear all that little-girl despair.
    “I’ll be right here when you’re finished helping with the cookies.”
    Her eyes narrowed ever-so-slightly. “Promise?”
    “Promise.”
    “All right.” Sighing, she headed toward the hallway.
    It took every ounce of control not to call her back to him and dispel his daughter’s obvious dejection. Hunter had no idea what Annabeth had to say to him—or why she felt the need to do so now—but he wouldn’t undermine her authority in front of Sarah.
    Once the child was out of earshot?