Mercenary's Woman ; Outlawed!

by Diana Palmer

  Fern looked at Carlo and he looked back at her. This was the tricky part. What had Daisy advised? He tried to remember the words he’d practiced.

  Fern spoke up. “Since you have a daddy now,” she said carefully, “you might not need to be adopted.”

  Mercedes’s eyes went huge and she climbed into Fern’s lap. “I wanna be ’dopted!”

  Fern’s arms went around Mercedes and she didn’t look at Carlo. “I’ll still see you lots and lots, I hope.”

  “We both love you,” Carlo chimed in, his heart aching. “That doesn’t ever go away or stop.”

  “Where am I gonna sleep?” Mercedes asked, her voice rising. “I get scared in the dark. I can’t go to sleep without Mama Fern.”

  “I know.” Fern’s voice was broken. “It’s hard.”

  Mercedes clung to Fern then, burying her head in Fern’s shoulder, crying. Gone was the happy, confident little girl who’d led him all around her house. Carlo sat helpless, staring at the misery he’d caused.

  “I don’t wanna go with him,” Mercedes said through her tears, looking up at Fern.

  “Shh,” Fern murmured, rocking her a little. “Shh, it’s okay. You’re staying with me for now. For a little while.”

  “You said it was a surprise, but this isn’t a good surprise.”

  Fern grabbed a tissue and wiped her eyes and nose, took a gulp of milk. A deep, audible breath. “It is a good surprise, even if you feel a little sad now. It’s wonderful to have a daddy. Daddies are lots of fun.”

  “But I want you, Mama Fern. I need a mommy!” She paused, rubbing her hand across her nose. “I’m sorry I jumped on the bed. I won’t do it anymore.”

  “Oh, honey.” Fern’s arms tightened around the little girl. “It’s not your fault. You’re a wonderful girl.”

  “Then, why can’t I get ’dopted and stay with you?”

  “We’ll keep talking about it,” Fern said. “We’ll get to talk to a judge who will help us figure it all out.”

  “I don’t wanna.” Mercedes peeked out at Carlo then, her face thunderous. “You go away, mean man.”

  “Mercedes!” Fern drew in an audible breath. “We use nice words and respect.”

  Carlo waved his hand. “It’s okay. Maybe it’s best that I go for now?” He had no idea how to fix this.

  He should never have come home. He should have stayed away.

  “It might be best,” Fern agreed with a slight catch in her voice. “We’ll get together with you again...real soon. Maybe meet with Daisy.”

  “Okay,” he agreed, and escaped out the door.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  “THANKS FOR PICKING me up,” Fern said to Susan Hayashi on a cold Saturday morning. The past couple of weeks had been awful, and she’d wanted to beg off from the church ice-skating outing and hole up at home. But the fresh air would be good for Mercedes. And the companionship, because Susan was bringing Roxy, one of the kindergarten-age kids she tutored.

  They moved Mercedes’s car seat into Susan’s little car, and Susan cranked up a CD of kids’ music, adjusting the sound to be louder in the back. As they headed down a country road, Fern heard Mercedes laugh in the backseat. She sighed with relief.

  “Rough day?” Susan asked.

  “Rough two weeks.” Since Mercedes learned about Carlo being her father, a reality that the paternity test had confirmed, she’d had tantrums almost every day, along with bed-wetting and nightmares most nights. Mercedes wasn’t getting much sleep, which meant that Fern wasn’t, either. The strain was showing on both of them.

  “Is it about Carlo?” Susan asked quietly. “I don’t mean to be nosy, but the news is all over town that he’s Mercedes’s dad.”

  “Yep, that’s what it is.” Fern didn’t exactly want to talk about it, but on the other hand, she had to talk to someone. “This is just between us, okay?”

  “Sure.”

  Fern cocked an ear back to make sure the girls were doing okay. When she turned around, she was glad to see them bent together over Roxy’s handheld game as the preschool music blared.

  “She won’t go with him,” Fern said quietly to Susan. “He’s supposed to have visits every other day, to get her used to the idea of him being her father and to prepare for her possibly living with him. But she hides in her room or has a huge tantrum. If he takes her, I hear her screaming all the way down the street.”

  It was awful, wrenching. Carlo had rented an apartment just a couple of blocks away from her house, and he’d bought toys and games and tried to make the place comfortable for his child, but she was having none of it.

  “Is she afraid of him?” Susan asked. “I mean, he’s kind of...large.”

  “I don’t think it’s that. He’s so gentle with her. I think it’s that she sees him as taking her away from me.”

  “Which he’s doing,” Susan observed.

  “Well, maybe. The hearing might be as soon as next week, and then we’ll know for sure how it’s all supposed to turn out. But meanwhile, they need to spend time together.”

  “Is she clinging to you?”

  Fern nodded. “Either that, or defying and hitting me. It’s crazy.”

  Susan turned onto a smaller, snow-packed road, handling the car skillfully as it slid a bit. “It’s actually pretty normal.”

  “Really?”

  The young teacher nodded. “From all my coursework in special ed, I know that kids lash out at caregivers a lot when they’re making a transition. On some level, they feel as though the parent they’re attached to is pushing them out.”

  “That makes sense.” She looked out the window at the wintry farmscape, remembering her own multiple transitions between homes. She’d never struck a foster parent, but there had been plenty of times she’d just given up and withdrawn. “I was in foster care myself, so I feel for her,” she said to Susan, surprising herself. Mostly, she kept the details of her childhood private, but Susan’s accepting friendship made her comfortable, as though she could let down her guard.

  “Really?” Susan glanced over at her, eyebrows raised. “That must have been hard. Is Mercedes’s situation bringing up all that for you?”

  Fern cocked her head as she thought about it. “You’re really smart, you know? I’ve been feeling incredibly blue and awful, and it’s mostly about losing her, but it’s...it’s weird. It feels as if it’s me getting abandoned and pushed out, a kind of hole inside I haven’t felt in a lot of years.”

  “Childhood can come back to haunt you like that,” Susan said in a tone that suggested she had a few childhood issues of her own to deal with.

  As they pulled up to the lake—more of a small pond, really, with lots of children and adults laughing and playing—Fern put a hand on Susan’s arm. “Thank you again for getting us out,” she said. “I really want Mercedes to have a good time and just be a child. Stuff like this is perfect.”

  “Stick with me, kid.” Susan smiled at her. “Seriously, you should hang out more with Daisy and me. We’re the single supernerd girls of Rescue River, and we always have a good time.”

  “You’re friends with Daisy?” Fern’s stomach twisted. “My social worker? Are you going to tell her what we talked about?”

  “You didn’t say anything bad. But cone of silence anyway.” Susan gave her a quick side-arm hug.

  The girls started clamoring to join the fun, and Susan and Fern climbed out, too, to help them. “Daisy’s great,” Susan said. “You’ll see, once she’s not your caseworker anymore.”

  Yeah, great. That’ll be when I don’t have a kid anymore. Fern bit back a sigh. There was no reason she was entitled to have a child, just because she’d befriended Kath. It had been an unexpected gift and an honor that Kath had chosen her to raise Mercedes when she’d realized that she was terminally ill.

  Fern had been in almost daily contact with Daisy since th
e blowup when Mercedes had found out Carlo was her daddy. Daisy had coached her about how to handle Mercedes’s emotional storms, and had recommended consistent routines, an extra bedtime story and plenty of attention. According to Daisy, Fern was doing great. And Carlo, while he was visibly upset about Mercedes’s rejection, wasn’t taking it personally. He understood that a new change so soon after Kath’s death was bound to upset Mercedes.

  The thing was, though, that Mercedes needed closure. And so did she. Seeing Carlo almost every day wasn’t helping her to care less for him. It just made her admire him more. His strength, his gentle patience, his efforts to make Mercedes laugh... It said a lot about the kind of man he was. He was a rock in the midst of a stormy time, and the temptation to cling to him grew bigger every day.

  But she couldn’t cling to a man who would never really love her.

  Keep busy. She’d been following that mantra, working on her writing and illustrating when Mercedes was at Carlo’s, putting in extra hours at the library.

  Keep busy. Even now she needed to focus on the activity at hand, not go off into her own spinning thoughts.

  She laced up her borrowed skates and followed Susan’s lead, teaching Mercedes first to take giant steps in the skates on the nonslippery snow, and then heading out onto the pond for some very clumsy skating. Fern was learning right along with Mercedes, and she tried to model good sportsmanship about her own ridiculous lack of skill.

  Finally, they got to where they could skate slowly around the pond, holding hands, with only a few falls. Thankfully, Susan had thought of knee pads for the kids. Fern could have used a pair herself.

  Treasure each moment. It wouldn’t be much longer that she’d have this precious hand in hers.

  Afternoon sun peeked through the clouds, casting a golden light on the pond, glinting off the snow. She could smell the bonfire the guys were already building in anticipation of staying through twilight. She didn’t know if they would stay; Mercedes’s eyelids looked heavy, a reminder that this was her nap time.

  They needed to stick with regular routines, as Daisy had been emphasizing. But then again, it was important for them to have some fun time together, to get out with other families and be social.

  No matter how short or long was the time she’d parent Mercedes, Fern knew she’d never feel absolutely certain she was doing it right. Parenting was complicated, requiring a million little decisions. She had a renewed respect for all the parents she knew.

  And doing it alone was more than challenging.

  Fern thought of the time she’d spent with Carlo and Mercedes out at the farm. Thought of the happy moments at her house before the revelation that had shattered Mercedes.

  Oh, she wanted that. She’d never known it before Carlo, but she wanted the whole lock, stock and barrel of family. Not just kids and pets, but a man.

  Not just a man, but Carlo.

  Throughout these past awful weeks, he’d never lost his temper, never yelled, never criticized. Compared to all the foster dads of her youth, he stood out as first-rate. Let alone that he was heroic, and handsome...and that he’d kissed her. For some time, however brief, he’d found her attractive.

  It was enough to sweep a shy librarian right off her feet.

  Beside her, Mercedes abruptly sat down on the ice—her preferred way of stopping—pulling Fern down, as well. Fern giggled and turned to the little girl. “What happened?”

  But the question died on her lips. Mercedes was staring ahead, lower lip trembling, face flushing red. Meltdown warning signs.

  Fern followed the little girl’s gaze. Carlo.

  Her heart thudded and she felt her breathing tighten.

  Carlo skated slowly toward them and Mercedes scooted into Fern’s lap. “I’m not going with him. Don’t make me go, Mama. I’ll be good.”

  Fern’s heart constricted at the pain in the little girl’s voice. It was pain she understood, but she also knew Mercedes had to get over it. “Tell you what,” she suggested. “Let’s show Mr. Carlo—I mean, Dad—how well you can skate.”

  “I don’t want to show him. I wanna go home.”

  Fern struggled to her feet, but Mercedes’s desperate clinging pulled her right back down again. “Don’t make me go, Mama!”

  Fern drew in a deep breath and fought for calm. People were staring, and if this was hard on her, it was twice as hard on Carlo and Mercedes. She closed her eyes and tried to pray, an effort that lasted only a couple of seconds before nerves made her open her eyes again.

  “Hey, buttercup,” Carlo said, coming closer and tweaking a lock of Mercedes’s hair. “What’s up?”

  “Go ’way.”

  “She’s doing a great job of skating,” Fern said, meeting Carlo’s eyes over the crying child. He was so handsome, and the pain and worry in his eyes made her ache for him.

  “I wish she’d show me how to do it. I’m not very good.”

  Mercedes peeked out.

  “Do you think if I just did it like this, it would work?” He leaned precariously out on one leg and fell.

  Fern chuckled, knowing it took more skating skill to do what he’d done than it would to skate more normally. “Should we show him?”

  “All right,” Mercedes said reluctantly.

  She got to her feet with Fern’s help and together they took a few shaky, gliding strides across the ice. “See, Carlo,” Fern called back, “you have to use two feet.”

  “Yeah,” Mercedes added.

  It was the most communication the child had offered Carlo since she’d learned he was her father. “Let’s watch and see how he does,” Fern suggested.

  They turned and watched as Carlo glided on both skates, then lifted one leg out behind him and promptly fell.

  “No, Daddy!”

  She’d called him Daddy. Fern’s world froze.

  From the looks of things, Carlo’s did, as well.

  “Do it like this!” Mercedes demonstrated.

  “Do you want to hold his hand and show him?” Fern asked, her heart just about breaking. She pointed Mercedes toward her father, holding her lightly from behind.

  “Would you?” Carlo held out a hand from his position, low down on the ice. “I think I need some help.”

  Fern watched, barely breathing, as the little girl slowly skated away from her to her father.

  Letting out a sigh, Fern watched as Carlo carefully got to his feet and took Mercedes’s hand.

  The pair of them made a couple of rounds on the ice. Fern watched, her mitten pressed to her mouth, the other hand across her belly. What a bittersweet feeling. She didn’t want to give up Mercedes, but she knew it was in the child’s best interest to have a good relationship with her father. Which probably meant to live with her father. Not with her.

  Problem was, she felt as if a hole had been cut in her gut.

  She skated off by herself, looking out at the snowy fields. Father God, I really need You here. I need to cling to You, because I have to learn how to let this little girl go.

  She didn’t hear words for an answer, but from somewhere, calm crept over her. God was with her. God would make the outcome right. God would help all of them. Not that it wouldn’t hurt, but the Lord would be there for her. She could lean on Him.

  When Carlo brought Mercedes back, the little girl was full of pride. “I helped Daddy, Mama Fern! I helped him learn to skate!”

  “That’s great.” Fern smiled and a painful peace, the Lord’s peace, settled over her.

  “Thanks, kiddo,” Carlo said, patting Mercedes’s shoulder as Roxy skated up.

  “You’re welcome, Daddy.” She said it loud enough for her new friend to hear. Like Roxy, like most kids in Rescue River, she had a daddy now.

  The two girls skated clumsily away, leaving Fern and Carlo alone.

  “That went really well,” she forced herself to say.<
br />
  “Yes, I think she’s opening up to me. She’s precious. Amazing.”

  “She is.” Standing here with Carlo, watching the child they both loved, felt like everything Fern had ever wanted.

  “Are you sure we can’t—”

  He was going to talk about a pretend marriage again. And she couldn’t trust herself to keep resisting, not with the way she felt about him. “No. We can’t.”

  A muscle twitched in Carlo’s square jaw as he looked away, back toward the crowd at the bonfire site. “Excuse me. I have to talk to someone.”

  “Okay.” She watched him skate away, admiring his grace. Was there anything he didn’t do well?

  Would she ever stop feeling heartbroken over him?

  And then she realized that Carlo was headed toward Daisy. Great. She watched as the two engaged in animated conversation. Carlo seemed to be trying to convince Daisy of something, because she shook her head, and he talked more, and then she cocked her head to one side as if she was considering.

  What were they saying? Was he telling her how Mercedes had connected with him, meaning that now he could take Mercedes full-time?

  Fern watched, her eyes blurring with tears, until Roxy bumped into her. “Sorry, Miss Fern!”

  “It’s okay.” And then Fern did a double take. “Where’s Mercedes?”

  The girl shrugged. “She was crying. She didn’t want to play.”

  Fern’s Mom Radar turned on. “Where did you see her last, honey?” she asked as she scanned the pond.

  “Over there.” Roxy waved vaguely toward the wooded side of the pond and skated off.

  Fern scanned the crowd at the pond. Pulled out her glasses, which she’d dumped because they kept fogging up, and scanned it again. Squinted to see the area the little girl had pointed out, now darkening in the late-afternoon gloom.

  She started skating, searching frantically, a vise tightening around her chest. Where was Mercedes?

  * * *

  CARLO PULLED HIS hood up against the increasing cold and nodded at Daisy. “I’m sure.”