Detective Daddy. Jane Toombs
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“So do I. After I got my MBA, I worked for a high-powered management company that sent me all over the place doing this and that for different firms. Once I had enough experience, I decided I could do better on my own, so I took the leap and it’s worked out great.”
“A high-powered consultant.”
She smiled and said, “Good description.”
“What did Marie’s father do?”
“Something similar, only for a firm, not for himself.”
“Now you’re frowning,” he told her.
“I like a man to be ambitious. Ken…” Her words trailed off.
“Sorry to pry. A cop gets used to asking questions.”
“I don’t mind your questions. After what we’ve been through together we’re hardly strangers. It’s just that I discovered somewhat late that Ken and I didn’t mesh too well. There was no way I could marry him and I told him so.”
Dan hid his surprise. “Then he died?”
Fay bit her lip. “I’d already broken off with him by that time. I had no idea then I might be pregnant, but that wouldn’t have changed my mind. It was all so sudden, the leukemia he never knew he had and killed him almost overnight.” She took a deep breath. “Logically, his death wasn’t my fault, but sometimes I feel so guilty.” Tears glimmered in her eyes. “Why is it logic has no effect on emotion?”
Dan moved from the chair to sit beside her on the couch and took her hand between both of his. “You can’t blame yourself for his disease.”
She sighed. “I know. But then, even though I’ve always used protection, I discovered I was carrying Ken’s child and told my father. He insisted I not have this baby. He hated Ken. Dad never reconciled himself to the fact I meant to have my baby.” The tears ran down her cheeks.
Dan wrapped his arms around her and held her while she wept, patting her soothingly, trying to ignore how good her softness felt against him.
When her tears eased, she drew away, wiping her eyes with a tissue from the pocket of her robe. “Sorry. It should have been Aunt Marie listening to all this, but I didn’t make it that far.”
“I don’t mind being her substitute,” he told Fay. “Not at all.”
Only later did it alarm him how much he’d relished being the one who’d offered her comfort in the circle of his arms. It wouldn’t do. Not at all. The situation was only temporary. Once they could leave the cabin, she’d go her way and he’d go his. Unencumbered, in his case. Alone.
Chapter Three
By the following day, Fay felt strong enough to pick up little Marie, change her diaper and carry her to the couch to nurse. Every so often, though, she had to ask Dan to carry the baby back to the wood-box, making her wonder if it was normal to have such little exercise fatigue her so.
“The plows should be clearing the highway so repair trucks can get through,” he told her in the afternoon. “The problem is I don’t know where the electric and phone lines went down so I can’t tell how long it’ll be before we get them fixed. We’re stuck here ’til I can get a call out about the bridge being impassable.”
“Now that the storm’s over, won’t your siblings worry if they don’t hear from you?” she asked.
“Bruce might not, and Will’s out of town, but Megan’s sure to. We tease her that her mission in life is to mother the world. That’s why I’m out here. She drove me crazy fussing over me at our old home in town. Seemed to think I needed bedside nursing.”
His words reminded her she’d noticed he favored his left leg when he walked. “Were you injured?” she asked.
He shrugged. “Got shot in the leg. Flesh wound. Pretty well healed now.”
“Is that why you’re in the Upper Peninsula instead of on duty in Archer?”
“Some of the reason, anyway.”
Fay was sure the leg wound had been more serious than he let on. She wondered what else was keeping him off duty, but didn’t probe. If he wanted to tell her, he would. But he’d made her curious. “Who shot you?” she asked.
“The perp. Perpetrator. That’s cop talk for the bad guy.”
She opened her mouth to ask what happened to the perp, but decided she was doing exactly what she’d told herself she wouldn’t—probing. “Evidently your job has its exciting moments.”
“Some a lot more exciting than I’d like. Jean—” He broke off abruptly.
“Jean?” she echoed.
“My ex.”
“Oh.” She should have known a guy as attractive as Dan would have been married. At first she hadn’t thought of him as anything other than the man who’d saved her life. Who’d taken care of her and Marie. But there was no denying blond, blue-eyed Daniel Sorenson was a hunk to set women’s hearts—and other parts—throbbing.
Not that hers were. Physically and emotionally she was nowhere near ready for either romance or sex. Still, she did have eyes, after all, and she did like to look at him. She also wanted to know more about why Jean was his ex. Well, it wouldn’t hurt to ask. “So you’re divorced,” she said as casually as she could.
His mouth twisted. “Cops’ marriages have a tendency to fail.”
Fay blinked, having never thought about it before. “Why?”
“We sometimes get killed.”
She examined his blunt words. “I admit that’s a real problem, but—”
“Cops also work overtime and often can’t let a wife know they won’t be home on time. The uncertainty of whether their husband might not be coming home because he’s dead or lying in a hospital wounded seems to wear on women.”
“Okay, but that still doesn’t seem to me to—”
“In my case there was also the question of children.”
“Question?”
“I don’t want any. Won’t have any. Not with today’s world like it is. Jean wanted kids.”
Fay thought of his gentleness with little Marie and felt a pang. She could tell he’d already grown fond of her daughter. Dan would make a wonderful father.
“That’s too bad,” she said. “Raising a child has always been a risk, though.”
“Yet you took it.”
She smiled. “I’ve been a risk-taker for most of my life.”
He grinned wryly. “You’re not telling me anything I don’t know firsthand.”
“I guess I deserved that. Going back to your divorce. Do you feel it was your fault? Because I don’t. Jean must have known you were a cop when she married you.”
“She thought she could convince me to get into something she considered safer. You may have the same trouble understanding what she never could. I like what I do. Once in a great while, I might even make a difference. I don’t want to find other work, safer or not. No, I don’t blame myself for the divorce, but I do for the marriage. Cops have no business marrying. Especially this cop.”
His tone was so bitter she suspected something else was involved at the root of the problem. Deciding not to touch on that, she said, “I think I can understand why you joined the police.” Though it was true he’d advanced to detective, he seemed to be saying he liked it just where he was. If he had any ambition, he could eventually become a police commissioner somewhere, become a real power. It reminded her of her father staying a foreman all his life when he could have advanced.