Her Secret Daughter. Ruth Herne Logan
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but there’s a reason they’ve been voted one of the top ten construction companies in the country, and that’s because they care about quality and safety. That’s part of the reason I’ve been with them for a dozen years,” he added. He released her hand to open both doors on the passenger side. “Quality and safety are top on my radar, too.”
She shelved the bits of information he was giving her. She’d give them to Drew when he came by, but as she climbed into the front seat of Jacob Weatherly’s car, their hands touched again, briefly.
This touch spurred no panic. Was that because she read the gentleness in his gaze? The humor he slanted back, toward Addie, as she made a big show about getting her seat belt buckled? Or was it the honesty she discerned in his face?
You’ve been fooled before. Don’t let it happen again.
She took the mental warning to heart because she’d made a grievous mistake once. She’d fallen for the winning smile and trusted the wrong man.
Right now, with Addie living there in her neighborhood, she couldn’t afford to make a mistake again. She’d entrusted two people with her most precious possession, her newborn child. What happened after that was anyone’s guess, but she was determined to get to the bottom of it, because Addie deserved what Josie had promised her: a nice, normal life, unblemished by scandal. Josie had every intention of making sure her daughter got exactly that.
* * *
Strong, yet scared. Or maybe scarred was a better word, Jacob mused as he pulled up next to Josie’s aging SUV a few moments later. He’d noticed the two catering trucks in her side parking lot, brilliantly bright and absolutely clean. Her restaurant had a similar appearance, while rugged enough to be a classic dive. She’d captured the retro look outside. Tomorrow morning would give him a look inside the Bayou Barbecue. The legal battle had kept him from stopping by before now. Carrington lawyers didn’t want anything muddying the waters of eminent domain. Now he’d get to see the internal workings of the east shore go-to spot for great food.
Josie swung her door open and got out of the car quickly. “Thanks for the ride.” The look she gave him was pleasant but probably insincere. Understandable after his company had seized her land.
Then she looked toward Addie, and it was nothing but pure warmth and joy. “I’m going to go get the berries right now, so we’re all ready for tomorrow morning. Okay?”
Addie clasped her hands together. “Okay!”
She stepped back and shut the door. Jacob pulled away and headed for the work trailer offices behind the chain-link fencing. He glanced back, through the rearview mirror.
Josie had gotten into her car and was backing out of the space. He found that reassuring for some reason. Her surprise arrival concerned him. She’d shown up, out of the blue. She’d crossed a construction zone. She—he paused and his thoughts took a different route, a more personal one.
She was downright beautiful, and clearly worried. Who wouldn’t be in her situation?
As he pulled up to the double-wide work trailer, Addie leaped out of her seat and waved toward the road.
Josie Gallagher was driving by. She spotted the girl and gave a quick wave back, nothing over the top, but it seemed to make Addie happy. “I like her, Daddy!”
She clutched his hand and skipped alongside as he approached the work trailer. “You do?”
“Mmm-hmm.” She bobbed her head and her curls bounced. “She has really pretty hair.”
He couldn’t fault her six-year-old reasoning because he’d noticed Josie’s hair, too. Dark brown, with copper-red highlights, but not enough to be called auburn. And those smoke-toned eyes with a hint of green. He’d noticed their odd shade as she turned the corner of the concrete walk and their eyes met.
“I would love a dolly with hair like that,” Addie confessed. “All of my dolls have hair like mine.” She sighed as if hair made a difference. It didn’t, of course. “I might be really, really tired of yellow hair.”
“Strawberry blond,” he reminded her and laid a hand over her head. “Really pretty strawberry blond hair, and I think you’re exactly the way God wanted you to be, Addie-cakes.”
“Well, I don’t think he’d mind if I had a brown-haired dolly.” The logic of her reasoning wasn’t lost on him. “I think he’d be okay with that, actually.”
He’d never really noticed that her dolls were all light-haired. A couple were from her early years, and several were more recent gifts, but she was right. Every one of them was pale and blond- or copper-haired. Clearly he and his parents thought alike, but that was shortsighted. Her playthings should have diversity, shouldn’t they? To reflect the real world?
He set up Addie with a juice box and crackers in the front room, then arranged for the conference call in the adjacent office. He made a note to check out the doll situation when he had time, then refocused his attention on dock-building bids. For the moment, Addie would have to get by with what she had with her, and she was such an easygoing child, he was sure that would be just fine.
* * *
“You never told anyone about the attack?” She’d surprised Drew Slade, Josie realized less than two hours later, and a man who used to be top security for the current president of the United States didn’t surprise easily. “Josie, why not? They could have helped you. They still could,” he added firmly.
Fear and shame had held her tongue seven years ago. She clenched her hands in her lap and wondered how all of her careful reasoning had come to this. “I wasn’t on the best terms with my family when I went to Louisiana.”
“How so?”
“Kimberly never told you?” That made her feel better, somehow. Not that she wanted Kimberly to keep secrets from Drew, but she was glad her stupid mistakes hadn’t become gossip fodder.
Drew shook his head.
“I messed up in college. Big-time. I cut loose, and partied with all the wrong people after my Dad died. I flunked out midway through my sophomore year and became a bitter disappointment to the Gallagher clan.”
“We all make mistakes,” Drew replied. “I’m a card-carrying member of Alcoholics Anonymous myself, so I hear you. But I don’t get what one has to do with the other.”
“I embarrassed my family, and they worked hard to help me get straightened out,” she told him. “Counseling, rehab and a job. They stuck by me despite what I did. When I decided I wanted to work the barbecue circuit in the Deep South, my mother and aunts tried to talk me out of it because there’s plenty of temptation in New Orleans. For a barbecue cook, though, it is the place to be if you want to learn all the aspects of good Southern cooking.”
“You moved down there anyway.”
She sighed. “Even though they asked me not to. New Orleans is too wild, they said. My mother begged me to stay home, or to go to some other Southern city, but anyone who is anyone in the barbecue business does a stint in New Orleans. And I was stubborn.”
Drew’s grunt indicated he understood that part well enough. Of course, he was married to a Gallagher, so he had firsthand experience.
“I was there for over two years with no problems, and learning all kinds of things. I got a chance to work with Big Bobby and Tuck Fletcher and Cajun Mary, so I learned from the best. And then this guy shows up—he starts flirting with me and it’s all in fun.” She frowned and gripped her knees tighter. “He seemed so normal, and I’d let my radar down because I’d been on the straight-and-narrow path for a long time. I’d forgotten how slick some guys can be. He was going to meet me for dinner, but then he called and said his car stalled near the parking lot of my apartment complex and it would be a while for them to tow it. Could he come up and wait? I said sure.” She bit her lip, remembering. “He slipped something into my glass of tea. When I woke up the next morning, he was gone.”
Drew