by Diana Palmer
Carlo drew in a breath and tasted a mix of happiness and fear, more intense than anything he’d felt in the worst jungle firefight.
“Come on, let’s play!”
Obviously, Fern wasn’t going to let him have the conversation he needed to have right now. And obviously, they couldn’t have that conversation in front of Mercedes. So he did what he’d done in battle: forced himself to stay in the moment.
You did that by focusing on sensations, not thoughts. So Carlo took deep breaths, catching the whiff of baby shampoo from Mercedes’s hair and something muskier from Fern’s. He looked at the colorful children’s game and stretched out his hand to the warmth of the flickering fire. Felt the soft fur of the rug beneath them, their little island.
“Your turn!” Mercedes nudged him, and he tried to understand the game. “What do I do?” he asked.
Fern chuckled. “It’s for ages three and up,” she said, holding up the box lid to show him. “It’s not that complicated.”
“You have to take your guy through the maze without waking up the daddy,” Mercedes explained. “If you land on the ones where you have to push the button, you might wake him up.”
Carlo obediently rolled the dice and took a card.
When Mercedes was done with her turn and Fern was taking hers, Mercedes looked at him seriously. “I don’t have this game at home,” she explained, “because I don’t have a daddy.”
“Oh, really?” His heart thudded in a sick way.
“Xavier has a daddy,” she said thoughtfully. “So he has this game about daddies.”
“I see.” He glanced over at Fern, feeling that his guilt was written all over his face. But she was checking her texts, not paying any attention to their conversation.
“Xavier got a daddy,” Mercedes said, studying him. “He didn’t have one, but then he got one.”
Was this his cue to speak? He stared into the brown eyes so like his little sister’s. Lord? A little help here?
“Right, Mama?” Mercedes leaned against Fern.
“What, sweets?”
“Xavier didn’t have a daddy, but he got one,” Mercedes explained patiently. “Maybe he—” she pointed at Carlo “—maybe he could be my daddy.”
Carlo’s heart just about exploded out of his chest, worse than that time a land mine had gone off six paces away from him and his buddy.
And just like then, he had the urge to preserve the person at risk. Had to protect Mercedes from finding out wrong, had to keep Fern from saying something negative about Mercedes’s absentee daddy that would come back to haunt him.
He opened his mouth and closed it again. What could he say? Where did he start?
“Every family is different, honey,” Fern said, stroking Mercedes’s hair. She didn’t look at Carlo, and he saw that her cheeks were pink. “It’s hard not to have a daddy sometimes, isn’t it?”
“Yeah.” Mercedes scrunched her nose. “It would be fun to have a real daddy to wake up for real, not just in a game. And for Donuts with Dad at school.”
Relief flooded him, a cowardly relief as he realized the moment of absolutely having to tell Mercedes the truth was passing, thanks to Fern’s tactful words.
Right behind the relief, the enormity of what he’d done by not being there crashed into Carlo all over again. Mercedes had been going through life without a dad. Seeing other kids whose dads were there for them and knowing she wasn’t protected like that. Of thinking her daddy knew about her and didn’t care enough to show up.
“I know. Donuts with Dad was hard.” Fern side hugged Mercedes and nuzzled her hair. “I didn’t look much like a dad, did I?”
The pressure on him averted, Carlo stared at Fern. “You went to her Donuts with Dad day?”
“Well, yeah. She didn’t have anyone else.”
“There weren’t any other single moms there?”
“Tommy Tremain had his grandpa there, because his dad’s in a war,” Mercedes explained. “And Sierra doesn’t have a daddy, but her uncle came, and he’s a fireman. Chief...” She looked over at Fern for help.
“Chief Kenny. Kenny Snyder,” she added for Carlo’s benefit. “Most people around here have extended families who can step in and help at times like that,” Fern explained to Carlo. “But I... Well, I don’t. And Kath’s family isn’t anywhere nearby.”
“So that left you.” His heart hurt, a little bit for Fern and a lot for Mercedes. And for himself, because he’d have loved to be there, but he hadn’t even known he’d had a child.
“Yeah, I was the only woman.” Fern wrinkled her nose. “A bit awkward. I’m not too good at talking sports with the daddies, but I can eat doughnuts really well, huh?” She ruffled Mercedes’s hair.
“And Sierra’s uncle sat by you the whole time!” Mercedes proclaimed. She cocked her head to one side. “Maybe he could be my daddy. Then I’d have a fireman. A chief!”
“Um, no.” Fern was blushing now, and she snuck a glance at Carlo through her hair.
Carlo guessed all the dads had liked having Fern there. Especially Kenny Snyder, whom Carlo had known as a kid. Somehow Fern had gotten the idea that she wasn’t attractive, but that was a bunch of hooey. Even her shyness was just...cute. The men had probably fallen all over each other to make her feel comfortable.
And that was a picture he needed to get out of his head, because it made him want to storm in and claim her in front of the whole town.
As they turned their attention back to the game, Carlo studied Fern. In all that conversation about fathers—which sounded as though Fern and Mercedes had been over before—Fern hadn’t said one negative word about Mercedes’s missing biological dad. He was grateful for that. And he could see, too, that telling Mercedes the truth about his own identity as her father would have to be handled delicately. She was of an age where she was noticing things, noticing how she fit into the world and how her own family compared with others.
He needed to get Fern aside and tell her the truth about his connection to Mercedes, but it might not happen today. Even now he could hear the snowplows scraping on the road, bringing the outside world closer.
He looked at the two heads bent over the game. Both with shiny brown hair, lit by sun, they looked like mother and daughter.
They looked beautiful, and he wanted to wrap his arms around both of them and protect them from a world that was all too cold and dangerous.
Treasure this moment. Because everything was going to change all too soon.
Could they just have one more hot chocolate? One more laugh over a silly mistake Mercedes made in the game? One more shy exchange of glances in front of a roaring fire?
But now the scraping sound was right outside the door, as if someone was shoveling the sidewalk, and Bull started to bark while the mama dog, Brownie, gave a low-keyed woof, as well.
When the knock came, Mercedes jumped up while Fern held on to Bull. “Don’t ever open the door without an adult to help you check who’s there,” Fern warned. “Could you get that?” she asked Carlo.
He strode to the door right behind Mercedes. “Lift me up,” she ordered, and he swung her into his arms so she could look out the high windows on the door.
And who was he kidding? So he’d get another chance to hold his daughter.
He looked out, too, and saw a smiling, bundled-up stranger with a shovel in hand. Drew in a breath, took one glance back at their warm, private haven.
Then he opened the door with his daughter in his arms and a sense of impending doom.
CHAPTER NINE
AS THE DOOR opened, Fern took one last look around the room where they’d spent much of the past three days. With game boxes scattered across the floor, it looked a little messy, but the fire and the lamp and the mugs they’d used for hot chocolate brought back memories already.
It had been an unforgettable bonding time for her
and Mercedes. And Carlo had been a huge part of that. Unexpectedly, he’d woven his way into the world she was building with herself and her child...and she hadn’t minded one bit.
“Hey, hey!” It was Kenny Snyder, the fire chief, coming inside, stomping the snow off his boots. He was a warm, caring man, a deacon at their church. And so big and blustery and loud that she always found him a bit overwhelming.
“Sierra!” Mercedes shouted, and Fern realized that Chief Kenny had his niece, just a little older than Mercedes, with him. “I built a snowman, did you see?”
“I did, too.” Sierra surveyed the room and then looked up at her uncle, shrugging off her coat. “Can I play with Mercedes?”
“Sure. That’s why I brought you.” He bent down to help her take off her snowy boots, talking to Fern and Carlo at the same time. “Everyone from the congregation knew you were stranded out here and we were all concerned. Since I’m a deacon, I got elected to come and check on you. And since little miss here was driving her mom crazy at home, I decided to bring her along to see her friend Mercedes.”
“That was nice of you,” Fern said. “Come on in, Sierra. You can pet Bull, just be gentle. He’s an older gentleman.” She made sure the child knew how to interact with a dog and then loosened her grip on Bull, who proceeded to lick Sierra’s hands.
Mercedes was still up in Carlo’s arms, and Chief Kenny cocked his head to one side and looked at both of them, a puzzled expression on his face.
“This is Carlo Camden. Angelica’s brother?” She hurried to introduce the two men as Mercedes struggled to get out of Carlo’s arms. “He showed up unexpectedly to visit his sister just as the storm was started, so he’s been here with us.”
“We knew each other in school, but it’s been a while.” Carlo put Mercedes down and held out his hand to shake with Kenny, who was still studying him with some puzzlement. “We made it through the storm just fine. Fern and Mercedes were troupers, even when the power went out. But it’ll be good to get some help with the dogs again.”
As if on cue, Bull barked once and that roused Brownie and her puppy. Once little Sierra saw them, there was no question about where the girls would play. “Explain to Sierra how to be gentle with Spots,” Fern called over the children’s excited shrieks, knowing Mercedes would love to be the authority figure to the other girl.
Their little private world had been invaded, and Fern couldn’t help regretting it. Spending time with Carlo had been surprisingly peaceful—well, mostly—but Chief Kenny and his niece were loud and energetic and it was already giving her a headache.
As was the fact that he kept staring at Carlo. What was that all about?
And then she realized that he was probably thinking they’d spent the nights together. Her face heated, not only because of the inference but because it had a tiny basis in truth. An attraction had grown between them, culminating in some romantic moments last night and a very sweet kiss this morning. One that had left her feeling full of promise.
Still, she needed to do damage control, because Chief Kenny was a big talker and knew everyone in town. “Um, Carlo, when you go out to your truck, I can help carry your stuff. From the TV room. Where you slept.”
Carlo looked at her blankly. “Okay.”
She shot him a “help me out here” look and went past the girls into the TV room, returning with a pile of blankets and pillows. “Carlo slept in there,” she said pointedly to Chief Kenny.
“Oh!” Light dawned on the man’s face. “Well, of course he did! It’s great you had some help.” He kept looking at Carlo. “I just can’t shake this weird idea... Mercedes, honey, come over here a minute.”
Always eager to please, Mercedes ran over.
“Stand right there.”
“Uncle Kenny!” Sierra complained. “We want to play with the puppy.”
Carlo rubbed the back of his neck. His face had gone pale and he opened his mouth as though he wanted to say something. But no words came out.
“Can I go back and play with Sierra now?” Mercedes asked politely, and Fern smiled at her daughter’s good manners.
The chief nodded. “Sure, of course.” After she was safely occupied with Sierra, over in the corner where the dogs were, he turned to Carlo again. “Mercedes looks exactly like you used to look as a kid,” he said. “I just can’t shake the idea that you’re somehow related. You look as alike as father and daughter! Of course that couldn’t be.” He looked from Carlo to Mercedes and back again. “Could it?”
Fern looked at Carlo, waiting for him to laugh off the fire chief’s odd notion.
But Carlo’s face was still and sad and solid. “It’s possible, but Mercedes doesn’t know,” he said quietly. He shot her a quick glance, then looked back at Kenny. “Neither does Fern. There are a lot of steps to take, so I’d prefer you keep that speculation to yourself.”
Chief Kenny lifted his hands like stop signs. “Of course! Of course! Sorry.” He went on talking while Fern’s world whirled into a faster and faster rhythm until she thought she might pass out from the dizzy feelings.
Chief Kenny had asked if Carlo was Mercedes’s father.
And rather than denying it, he’d said, “Mercedes doesn’t know.”
She reached for a chair arm and sank slowly onto the edge of the chair, because her legs felt so shaky. “You said Mercedes didn’t know,” she said to Carlo, her brow furrowing. “And that I didn’t. Does that mean...you did?”
He squeezed his eyes shut for a moment and then came over to squat in front of her. Chief Kenny was still talking, backing away, going across the room to kneel down by the girls and the dogs.
“Fern... I—”
“You did know. Is it true? Are you Mercedes’s father?”
“I—”
“Don’t you dare lie to me.” She kept her voice soft so Mercedes wouldn’t hear, but the fury she felt had to be coming through. “Anymore. Don’t lie anymore.”
“Fern. When I got here, I was sick. Practically delirious. I had no idea of finding...of finding my daughter in this house. I came to see Angelica.”
She couldn’t even process his words, because the enormity of what she’d just learned was pressing down on her. Carlo was Mercedes’s father.
If it was true, if he was Mercedes’s father, then all his kindness was false. Mercedes’s father had left her, abandoned her, left her to live with Kath when she was deep into drugs. He’d let Mercedes be neglected and scared and alone all those years, put her at risk.
“You’re a big military hero, but you couldn’t take care of your own child?” The words burst out of her.
He blinked and shook his head back and forth, slowly. “I didn’t know about her, Fern. I didn’t even know she existed until a few weeks ago.”
“How can that be?” Her voice had a little hitch in it, and she took a couple of deep, gasping breaths to calm down. “How could you not know?”
“Kathy kicked me out and I went back to the jungle.” His voice was patient, calm. Infuriatingly so.
“Doing your important missionary work?” He was still squatting in front of her chair, trapping her, and she couldn’t bear it. She nudged at him with the side of her foot. “Could you...move?”
He shuffled over to the side, still on his knees and too close. “I wanted to try to work things out with her, Fern. That’s why I came home, after I found the Lord.”
She waved her hand. “You keep talking and talking. You’re full of excuses. But a little girl has suffered. Your own child.”
Suddenly, Mercedes was there, looking worried, putting a hand on each of them. “Stop fighting! Kind words and inside voices.”
“Sorry, Mercy.” She kept the words in a whisper to hide her near hysteria. And she looked: from Carlo to Mercedes, from Mercedes to Carlo.
How had she not noticed what Chief Kenny had seen instantly? What kind of idio
t was she?
She drew in another breath and forced calm into her voice. “Run and play with Sierra, honey. Look, she’s holding Spots!”
Mercedes turned. “No, not like that, two fingers!” she cried, and ran toward Sierra. Chief Kenny was beside her, looking their way with concern.
“Let’s go in the kitchen and talk,” Carlo suggested, and even though she didn’t want to do anything the man said, she recognized that he was right. She wasn’t going to get any less upset. And she didn’t need Mercedes seeing that.
God had chosen this man to do missionary work? Really?
She got to her feet, shaking off Carlo’s helpful touch at her elbow, and walked to the kitchen on stiff, old-lady legs. She felt as if she’d been hit by a sledgehammer. She felt as if she were going to die.
“Are you here to take her from me?” she demanded as soon as they were in the kitchen.
He pulled out a chair for her. “Fern, there’s so much we need to talk through. And I can’t tell you how sorry I am to upset you like this.”
“You are here to take her away. You tricked me on purpose, to get her to like you, and it worked, and now you’re going to take her away.” At the idea of losing Mercedes, a huge dark gulf opened inside her. She wrapped her arms around herself and stared down at the floor, trying to hold herself together.
She’d tried so hard to give Mercedes everything she needed, and it had brought her so much joy to do it. And Mercedes was making progress, feeling more secure by the day. To change things now, to have her go live with her father...with Carlo... She lifted her eyes to look at him. “I’m not letting you have her.”
“Look, Fern, I know you’re angry. We can talk this through.”
His kind, understanding tone lit a fire in her. He wasn’t upset. He wasn’t angry.
Because he was the one who had just calmly ruined her life and that of the little girl she loved.
“You can talk all you want.” She stood up then, poked him in the chest. “You can tell me all your excuses. But here’s what I know. You’ve neglected this child for her whole life, the whole time she needed you, and now you’ve come in and messed her up again. She thinks you’re just some nice man, and now she’ll have to find out you’re her father, and you were lying to her!”