Montana Skies (You, Me and the Kids) (Harlequin Superromance, No 1395) Read Online Free PDF Page B

he hated me for…screwing things up?”
    Oh Lord, help her. She hated that Skylar carried that doubt in her mind. Hated that she thought her father so angry over their marital situation and separation he’d want to kill her.
    Rissa walked toward her. She wanted to hold her, comfort her, but Skylar distanced herself again, the couch now between them. She stopped, her hands at her sides, her arms empty and aching for the little girl who used to snuggle up with her every day.
    â€œIt’s not true, Sky. Your dad wasn’t perfect, but if he’d had any thoughts of suicide, he certainly wouldn’t have endangered you. He understood why you told me. He did . You were hurt and angry and confused, but he understood! Let it go. Please . Try to remember what Jake said about the inquiry being normal, and stop blaming yourself. The policy was a large one, and the delays… It’s the company’s bureaucratic way of holding onto their money as long as possible, that’s all.”
    â€œHow can you be so sure?”
    Beneath the steady weight of Skylar’s stare, Rissa faltered. And prayed she’d say the right thing, find the missing piece. “Because your dad was a lot of things, but first and foremost, he was a father. For all his faults, he loved you like no one else. You were his princess, daddy’s little girl. He loved you so much he’d have died—”
    Skylar flinched.
    Rissa clamped a hand over her mouth, regretting the words the instant they left her lips, unable to believe she’d said something so insensitive in her rambling explanation. She held out her hands in apology. “Oh, I didn’t—Skylar, I’m sorry! That came out wrong. I didn’t mean—”
    Skylar made a break for the stairs leading to the tinybedroom loft. Rissa turned, but knew she didn’t have a chance of stopping her this time. “Skylar, I’m sorry! ”
    She kept going, her boots loud on the wooden treads.
    â€œSkylar—”
    â€œGod, just leave me alone! Leave me alone! ”

CHAPTER THREE
    T HE NEXT MORNING Jonas leaned against the outside of his cruiser and lifted a hand in greeting to Ben Whitefeather. The old man drove by slowly, and Jonas watched his progress, wondering if he should stop Ben to chat and discreetly check for alcohol. Depending on the man’s arthritis pain, the old saying applied—Ben could be sober as a church mouse, or drunk as a skunk.
    Jonas decided to let Ben continue on when the truck didn’t waver. He’d never stopped Ben for DUI because the old man typically did his drinking at home, but he had been called out to Ben’s house by the man’s teenaged grandson when Ben had gotten drunk enough to forget the pain in his legs, and managed to get his helicopter up in the air believing he’d seen smoke in the hills. A flame chaser from years back, Ben was determined to put the fire out before it spread through the forest. Twenty minutes later, he had landed safely a hundred yards from the overgrown helipad, and promised not to drink and fly again.
    Jonas sighed and leaned his head back to ease the tension in his neck. He’d parked under the shade tree planted to the right of The Blooming Rose, and it was a good thing he had because Caroline had been inside almost an hour already.
    While he waited, he’d chatted with a few of thetownspeople, something he’d done often before Lea had left. But once she was gone, all the questions and nosy busybodies had driven him to not be so accessible, and he hadn’t realized how much he’d missed it until now.
    Jonas straightened, prepared to walk by the glass door to look inside even though he told himself to give Caroline another fifteen minutes. He was smart enough to know his daughter would be mortified if anyone saw him staring into the clothing store while she was inside.
    â€œIs something wrong?”
    He jerked his head toward the now