Bachelor Father. Pamela Bauer
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said it was a one-night stand, Adam,” she reminded him, as if that explained Christie’s behavior.
“That didn’t give her the right to keep Megan’s existence from me,” he argued. “I may not have been the most mature guy seven years ago, but I wouldn’t have turned my back on my own daughter.”
“Of course you wouldn’t,” his sister-in-law said in a tone definitely meant to appease him.
Lori had been married to his brother long enough to know that he had strong family values. She’d also seen enough women come and go in his life to know that making a commitment to one wasn’t a priority in his life. Although she rarely commented on his personal relationships, he knew that she hoped that marriage and a family would be in his future. One of the reasons they got along as well as they did was because they had an unspoken agreement between them. He didn’t interfere in his brother’s marriage and she respected his privacy when it came to his love life. Now that he had Megan, he could see she was finding it difficult to honor her end of the agreement.
They’d reached the elevators and stood facing each other. “It does no good to wonder what might have been,” Lori told him. “We need to get this resolved and soon. Megan can’t go on thinking her mother’s come back from the dead.”
Adam pressed the call button. “It will be resolved. If this woman she’s mistaken for Christie works in the child-care center, I’ll find her. Will you stay with Megan until I get back?”
“Of course. I do have a doctor appointment later this afternoon, though.”
He nodded. “This shouldn’t take long.”
An elevator car arrived and he stepped inside. As the doors slid shut, he tried not to think about how fragile and vulnerable Megan had looked as she’d asked about her mother. He’d wanted to take her in his arms and tell her that nothing would ever harm her as long as he was around.
He hadn’t. And not just because of the hospital equipment connected to her. She had given him no reason to believe that she wanted him to be her father. If anything, she’d shown him in a hundred different ways that she didn’t regard him as her parent.
She wanted a mother, not a father. It’s why she preferred to be with Lori rather than with him. He wondered if it also wasn’t the reason why she wanted so badly to believe that she’d seen Christie in the hospital.
He tried not to feel as if he’d flunked another fatherhood test, but after six weeks of being a parent, he’d made very little progress in earning her trust and love. That had to change. How it would happen, he wasn’t sure, but he knew it had to start with finding the baby rocker.
“THERE WAS A MAN looking for you while you were at lunch,” Mrs. Carmichael told Faith when she came back to work after her break.
She frowned. “What did he want?”
“He said he wanted to thank you for being kind to his daughter.”
“Did you tell him I was just doing my job?” she asked, pulling on the blue and green smock all hospital volunteers wore.
“Oh, he didn’t leave his daughter here at the center. She’s a patient on the second floor.” Her supervisor pulled a slip of paper from her pocket. “A little girl named Megan Novak.”
The name didn’t ring a bell. “Are you sure he wanted me? I don’t remember meeting anyone by that name.”
“He asked specifically for the woman who rocks the babies, and even described you as having blond hair and blue eyes,” Mrs. Carmichael answered. “I told him I’d pass on his thanks but if he wanted to do it himself in person he could come back this afternoon.”
Puzzled, Faith shook her head. “He must have me confused with someone else.”
“I know you like to visit the kids in pediatrics. Maybe it’s someone you met while you were there?”
“It could be, but I don’t remember anyone named Megan.”
The older woman shrugged. “I wouldn’t worry about it. If he comes in, it will all get straightened out.”
Faith didn’t give it another thought but went back to work. She had just finished buttoning her smock when a little boy arrived at the center. He was a two-year-old named Isaac who didn’t want to be separated from his mother. Unfortunately, his father was a patient on the fourth floor and his mother wanted to visit him.
It wasn’t the first time Faith had to calm a kicking and screaming child who thought a temper tantrum would bring his mother back to the nursery. With a patience that had earned her the nickname “the peacemaker” from another of her co-workers, Faith waited until he had vented his frustration before attempting to take him on her lap. Eventually he saw that no amount of ranting was going to bring his mother back. Faith spoke to him in a gentle tone, urging him to sit with her in the rocker. Within minutes she had rocked him to sleep.
“Do I dare talk or will he wake up?” The voice was almost a whisper.
She glanced up and saw a tall man with dark hair and even darker eyes looking at her. He wore a pair of corduroy slacks and a tweed sweater. Although he was at least a foot away from her, she felt as if he had invaded her space. So intimidating was his presence. Her heart-beat increased. For the first time since her accident, someone was looking at her with a familiar glint in his eye.
The fact that it was such an attractive man caused her stomach to do a flip-flop, as well. She glanced at the boy on her lap. “I think this one can sleep through just about anything. Can I help you with something?”
He glanced at her name tag. “You’re Faith, the baby rocker, right?”
“Yes, I am.” When he continued to stare at her without saying a word she asked, “Do I know you?” Her mouth went dry at the possibility and every nerve in her body tensed as she waited for his answer. He hesitated, staring at her the way the toddlers in her care often examined the wooden puzzles on the table—with both fascination and uncertainty.
When he said, “You don’t recognize me?” her heartbeat quickened.
She shook her head. “Should I?” It was obvious from the way he was staring at her that he thought she should. Hope mushroomed inside her that she might finally learn her identity. Ever since her accident she’d been anticipating the day when someone would recognize her. She wondered if this man was that someone.
Then he said, “No, we haven’t met. I’m Adam Novak. Megan’s father.”
The man who’d come looking for her to thank her for being kind to his daughter. Just as quickly as it had surfaced, the hope disappeared. Faith did her best to hide her disappointment, but her voice was subdued when she said, “I’m sorry, but I don’t know who Megan is.”
“She’s six years old. Blond hair. Blue eyes. A couple of days ago she had surgery,” he explained. “While they were moving her to her room on the second floor, she must have seen you. She said you talked to her and told her you rock babies here in the nursery.”
The memory of the frightened little girl came to her and made Faith’s voice soften with concern. “That was your daughter?”
He nodded. “I don’t know what you said to her, but she’s been talking about you ever since.”
Something in his tone gave her the impression he wasn’t exactly pleased about that, despite his cordial smile. “Sometimes with children all that’s necessary is a smile,” she told him, wishing he’d leave, but he lingered, his hands in his pockets as he stood next to the rocking chair, his gaze intense. “How is she feeling? Is she going to be all right?” Faith asked.
“She’s slowly improving,” he answered. Even though he’d told her he didn’t know her, he continued to stare at her as if she were of particular interest to him.
Faith could feel her face warming under his scrutiny and was grateful when out of