Full-Time Father. Susan Mallery
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her hazel eyes dark with pain.
“I was angry,” she told him. “At the mysterious man who’d ruined her life. At her for dying. At Christie for messing up my plans.”
“Who’s Christie?” he asked, not sure he understood what Erin was talking about or whether he believed her display of emotions. Were they genuine or was she a good actress?
She reached down and collected her small purse. After opening it, she pulled out a photograph. “My sister never told me anything, Mr. Hamiliton. Nothing about you or what had happened here. We were attending different colleges. I saw her for a few days that last summer when she came home from her internship here, but that was all. We didn’t spend Christmas break together. I realized later that she was avoiding me. She didn’t want me to know. I didn’t have a clue until the hospital called to say there were complications.”
His stomach clenched tight like a fist. Parker stared at her. Foreboding surrounded him and chilled the air. “What complications?”
Erin stood up and started toward him. When she was less than two feet away, she handed him the small picture. He took it without looking at it. He wanted to watch her face as she told him her story.
“What complications?” he repeated.
“My sister died of complications in childbirth. She was pregnant when she left here. The baby…Christie…is your daughter.”
A daughter? A child? His child?
Parker stared at her, hearing the words, absorbing their meaning, but not sure if they had any connection to him. A child. He had a child?
His gaze never left hers. Hazel eyes widened slightly. He watched the emotions race across her face. Confusion, compassion, fear. Why was she afraid? He wondered what she was seeing on his face. Most likely shock. That’s what he felt. Stunned shock, as if he’d plunged into an icy river and couldn’t catch his breath.
He struggled to remember that night with Stacey. Everything was a blur. Shame and guilt colored all the memories that hadn’t been erased by alcohol. He recalled enough to know they’d had sex. He’d taken her again and again, hoping the act would blot out the past, but it hadn’t. Instead he’d remembered everything and in doing so, he’d forgotten Stacey.
He hadn’t used protection because she’d said she was on the pill. Had she been lying? If so the child could be his.
Or Erin Ridgeway, if that was even her real name, could be trying an age-old scam to make a few dollars for herself.
“How do I know she’s mine?” he asked.
He expected her to get defensive and start talking about blood types and DNA as proof. Instead she motioned to the photo he was still holding.
“Just look at her. I always knew she didn’t look like Stacey or me. Now I see she gets her features from you. The eyes, the shape of the mouth, although I have to warn you, personality wise, she’s just as lively as my sister was.”
Still he resisted looking down. Maybe because he didn’t want to know. Maybe because, in his gut, he already knew the truth. Erin Ridgeway didn’t know how to lie well enough to pull off something like this. Everything she said was true, including the fact that he had a daughter.
He braced himself, tensing all his muscles before looking down. Even so, the picture caught him off guard. It was like taking a sucker punch to the belly. All his air rushed out and he fought against the need to double over.
The photo showed a small girl laughing in a park somewhere. She wasn’t looking at the camera, instead the snapshot had caught her in a moment of childish joy. Her arms were in the air, one knee was raised as if she was skipping or jumping. Her hair, in pigtails, flew out behind her. Sunlight illuminated the area, making the trees glow as if lit from within.
He cataloged all that information quickly, almost unconsciously, then he turned his attention to the child’s face. Her eyes crinkled with amusement, but he could still see the shape. Her mouth was open wide with laughter, but he knew what she would look like if she smiled. There was something familiar about the way she held her head.
He recognized her.
“How old is she?” he asked, his voice hoarse.
“She turned four in early May.” Erin stared at him. “Are you all right?”
He shook his head. “Not really.” He continued to stare at the picture, memorizing it.
“I guess this is sort of a shock.”
He glanced at her and forced himself to give her a smile. “That’s an understatement.” He returned his attention to the photo. “I never knew about her.” He’d never sensed her presence in the world. That didn’t seem possible. His child had existed for over four years, and he hadn’t had a clue.
“I’m sorry,” Erin said. “I would have come sooner, but as I already told you, Stacey never told me who you were. When she passed away, I asked a friend to pack up her room at home. All these years I never thought to check her personal papers.” She shook her head. “I should have. I only found out about you recently because I was packing up to move and I finally went through her things. I found her diary and in it she mentioned your name.”
He wondered what else she’d mentioned, then figured it wasn’t important. The past was over. All that mattered was the child.
“Where is Christie now?” he asked. Christie. The name was unfamiliar on his tongue, but he liked it. Had Stacey had the chance to name her daughter before she died or had Erin chosen the name.
“At our motel. We’re staying in town.”
He frowned. “You left her alone?”
“No.” Erin smiled. “I drove up with a friend. Joyce is watching her.”
He supposed she’d come for money. Child support. A college fund. He opened his mouth to say all that would be arranged. He wouldn’t ignore his responsibilities. Instead he blurted out, “I want to meet her.”
Erin’s hazel eyes darkened with pleasure. The dimple in her cheek deepened. “I’m glad,” she said. “I didn’t tell her why we were up here. I wasn’t sure what you would say or if you would even believe me.”
“This kind of proof is difficult to ignore.” He shook the picture.
“But I wasn’t sure she looked like you. She could have taken after another relative.”
“But she didn’t.” He studied the photograph again, marveling that she really existed. “When can I see her?”
Erin pushed up the sleeve of her cream sweater and glanced at her watch. “It’s nearly eleven now. What if I bring her back at two o’clock?”
Three hours. It felt like a lifetime. “Sure.”
“Great.” Erin started for the small table. She collected her purse, then nodded at the picture. “Would you like to keep that?”
His hold on the photo tightened. “Yes. Thank you.” He followed her to the front door. “Do you know how to get to town?”
“I have the map I used to find my way here. I’ll be fine.” She glanced up at him. The top of her head was an inch or so shy of his chin. “I’m glad you want to meet her, Parker. She’s a wonderful little girl. Very outgoing, friendly, she’s almost never shy. Do you want me to explain things to her before we get here?”
Things? “You mean tell her that I’m her father?”
“I—” She cleared her throat. “She’s always wanted one, a daddy, as she says. I thought it might be easier to try to answer her questions before she met you, but if you would prefer to do it yourself—”
“No,” he said quickly. “Go ahead and tell her what you think is best.”
“I’ll make sure she realizes