Chapter Two

      Standing alone, Elijah tried to clear his brain. The hum of the commercial refrigerators gave him something safe to focus on, anything other than the curve of her face. The rust colored freckles that dusted her cheeks over soft mahogany skin. The need to reach out and touch her, to make sure she was real had been a punch to the gut. He buried his fingers in his hair and dropped his head.

      For over five years, he had practiced his apology, holding each word tightly in his mind until the day he could tell her. He had written letter after letter, flooding her parents’ mailbox with them. Not that she had seen any of them—her parents had made that clear—but he had been desperate to make things right. And now the day had come, and he hadn’t uttered a word of his apology. He’d blown it. Anger soured his stomach.

      Because she had stolen his child. Digging his fingers into his scalp, he dropped into a crouch, elbows dug into his knees. Did she actually believed he was homeless? He laughed. Alone in the pantry, he laughed out loud.

      And then he stopped. Took a few deep breaths. Right now, he needed to be calm and steady. He couldn’t afford to lose his grip.

      The Daniels were powerful people in the state of Texas. Elijah couldn’t imagine Judge Nelson James Daniels III ever being weak. The man ruled his world with an iron fist. There was only one person Elijah knew with a stronger will—Azalea Daniels, his wife, Jazmine’s mother. She and her husband had hated him from the first moment he had stepped on their porch to take their daughter to a beach party to kick off the summer season.

      He was only two years older, but at the time, his twenty to Jazmine’s eighteen was too big of a gap for them. He wasn’t in school or planning to attend. Plus, they knew his uncle.

      Frank had stood in front of Judge Daniels’s bench more times than Elijah wanted to think about.

      The Daniels family had faced their own tragedy, losing a young son to a drunk driver. Elijah was an idiot. Leaning his forehead against the door, he planted his fist against the wall. This was 100 percent his fault. Why had he tried to overstep and reach for something he didn’t deserve?

      With his program and counseling, he’d finally been in a place to let it go, to let her go. Making amends and apologizing was all he’d had left, but everything had just changed.

      Jazmine, the Daniels’s only surviving child, had had a bright future. Even before her senior year had started, she had been accepted to three Ivy League schools on the East Coast. Elijah, on the other hand, had barely gotten out of high school.

      He preferred the outdoors. On a horse, working with cattle, or on a boat out in the Gulf fighting the elements. Both of those were a thousand times more fulfilling than sitting behind a desk at the job Judge Daniels had gotten him.

      He closed his eyes. That job had taken all the life out of him, but instead of talking he had started drinking.

      Needless to say, her parents had not been happy when Jazmine had decided to stay and attend the local college, so she could stay close to him. They had done everything but disown her when they had gotten married.

      Then his stupid De La Rosa weakness had to ruin it all, giving her parents the perfect opportunity to take her away from him.

      He had never hurt Jazmine. Not physically. A hollow thud hit his gut. At least, he didn’t think he had.

      The night she had left was a foggy mess of impressions. No matter how hard he focused, that night, like so many others, was a blur. All he remembered was the bang of the thunder and blinding flashes of lightning.

      When he had woken up, she had been gone and had never returned. Until today.

      The huge ornate mirror her parents had given them had been smashed into hundreds of razor-sharp shards. There had been traces of blood on both the frame and his knuckles. He hoped the glass was the only thing he had broken. The thought of touching her in anger made him sick to his stomach. Even at his worst, he wouldn’t do that. Would he?

      The token in his pocket had a strip of paper wrapped around it. He pulled it out. This morning his meditation verse had been Second Corinthians 5:17. Old things are passed away; behold, all thing are becoming new.

      When he had read his daily meditation scripture before the sun had risen over the Gulf this morning, God knew what this day would bring.

      One of the first lessons he’d had to learn was that in order to control his life, he had to control his anger. Getting angry was never going to help. He had to focus on today and what he needed to do going forward.

      He wanted to show Jazmine that they had all been wrong about him. He had become a successful businessman. Just a few months ago, he and his partner had added the Painted Dolphin to their line of restaurants here along the coast. They just added another boat to their recreational fleet. With God, he had become a new man.

      Becoming new. But, boy, did that take on new meaning today. Elijah closed his eyes and rubbed the sobriety token between his thumb and index finger.

      If he was going to get through this day, he couldn’t go into the past. It would be like those long lines of dominoes he had loved setting up as a kid. One negative thought would trigger another until a tidal wave of guilt sucked him under. The alcohol used to help him silence the voices, but he couldn’t give in now. He couldn’t go back to that dark place.

      There was a little girl who needed a sober father. The man he had been for the last five years could be that father. He would give her what his uncle had never given him.

      Anger flared again.