by Lisa Carter
Rolling to a stop, he steeled himself and switched off the ignition. Thrusting open the door, he got out, his boots hitting the hard-packed gravel. He’d felt less nervous storming terrorist strongholds in Kandahar. He closed the door to silence the dinging.
Callie came out onto the porch. With the sun low on the mountain horizon, the rays caught the red of her hair, turning it into a beautiful flame.
It wasn’t only the house that made his breath catch. How could he have missed her so much in just thirty-six hours? His pulsed ratcheted.
In jeans and a long-sleeved plum-colored cardigan, she stopped on the topmost step. A furrow lined the bridge between her brows. She wasn’t smiling. In fact, she looked downright unhappy.
Had something happened while he was gone? Maisie—
“My daddy! My daddy!”
He froze midstep. From the direction of the barn came a blur of motion. Barreling toward him as fast as her two-year-old legs could churn, Maisie raced across the lawn.
Before he could react, she threw herself at him, nearly unsettling him. Her arms wrapped around his legs. Her hands clasped behind his knees.
She buried her face in his jeans. “My daddy. My daddy. My daddy.”
Jake almost touched the golden tangle of her curls, but wasn’t sure he should. She’d never welcomed his embrace before, and now he didn’t know what to do.
Nash followed Maisie from the barnyard, his pace more sedate. Jake’s gaze cut to Callie, softly crying.
“I’ve been trying to reach you for hours, Jake.”
His gut twisted. What had happened while he was gone? Everyone seemed the same. The orchard appeared the same. Only Maisie—he had no explanation for Maisie’s behavior.
“I—I had it off for a while.”
Nash joined Callie on the porch. He put his arm around his daughter. “Probably you two just missed connecting. And in the hills, sometimes service is spotty.”
Jake’s eyes flickered from Maisie to the Jacksons. “What’s going on?” His voice sharpened. “Why is she— What’s wrong with Maisie?”
Nash hugged Callie. “Nothing’s wrong, son. Everything has come right.”
Jake shook his head. “I don’t know what you mean.” His hands hung awkwardly.
At the small tug on his pants, he looked down into the blue of Maisie’s upturned gaze.
On her tiptoes, she raised her arms up to him. “My daddy?”
His heart pounded. Hands flexing, he wanted so badly to take her in his arms, but—
“It’s okay, Jake.” Callie came closer. “Please pick her up. She wants her daddy. That’s all she’s wanted since you left.”
Bending, he lifted Maisie. Twining her arms around his neck, she laid her head against the curve of his shoulder. Nestling, until her cheek rested against the exposed skin above the open collar of his button-down shirt. His arms tightened around her.
His heart nearly stopped for the explosion of sheer joy in having his child want him, need him. He blinked moisture from his eyes.
“I—I don’t understand.” He gulped past the boulder of emotion lodged in his throat.
Nash smiled. “Prayers answered.”
“Maisie thought you’d gone forever.” Callie’s mouth trembled. “I think it was only then she opened the door of her heart to you. She’s been inconsolable believing she’d never see you again.”
His daughter clung to him like he was an anchor and she was drowning.
“My daddy no go,” Maisie whispered against his shirt.
He kissed Maisie’s head, his beard stubble scraping the silken threads of her hair. “Daddy won’t ever leave you again if you don’t want him to, baby.”
“Oh, Jake...” Callie’s eyes shone. “This was the breakthrough we’ve been hoping for. I told you she just needed time.”
Thank You, God. Thank You for restoring the heart of my precious child to me. This is You. All You.
“I never really believed this day would come...”
Nash gave Jake a half smile. “When everything seems hopeless, that’s when we must hold on to our faith. We’re on that journey with you, Jake. All of us, no matter how long we’ve walked with our Father.”
The journey of a lifetime. Jake would think on Nash’s words later. Process everything in a quiet moment. But now—the gift.
“I hope neither of you will object.” His chest heaved. “But I bought something for Maisie.”
Maisie’s little head popped up. “Me?”
“For you.” Nash came around to the truck bed. “The one and only, Daisy Maisie.” Lifting a corner of the tarp, he grinned.
Callie moved to see. “What is it, Dad?”
“It’s a b-i-g...” Nash winked at Jake. “G-i-r-l...b-e-d.”
“Oh, Jake.” Callie clasped her hands under her chin. “She’s going to love it.”
He shifted Maisie deeper into the crook of his arm. “Maybe you wanted to pick it out yourself.”
Callie fingered one of Maisie’s curls. “I think it is perfect that her daddy got it for her.”
Maisie bounced. “Me see, my daddy. Me see.”
“Not so fast.” Callie laughed. “I think your daddy wants it to be a surprise, Maisie.”
“Why don’t you let Callie hold you while Pop-Pop and I—” Jake tried peeling Maisie off him.
She protested, her legs wrapped around his torso like a monkey on a branch.
He touched his forehead to hers. “Daddy’s not going anywhere. But it’s going to take both Pop-Pop and me to get your surprise ready.”
Maisie placed her small palm against his cheek. “Pwomise?”
He thought his heart might burst from his chest. “I promise, baby.”
“’Kay, my daddy.”
When he set her on the ground, Callie took Maisie’s hand. “Let’s get supper ready and, afterward, your daddy can show you the surprise.” She glanced up. “Or will you need more time to put it together?”
Nash clapped Jake across the shoulders. “I think between the two men who love Maisie the most, we’ve got it covered, daughter.”
He and Nash carried the pieces of the bed upstairs.
As a weapons specialist, Jake could take apart and put together every weapon in the arsenal, but facing the booklet of instructions, it was Nash who took the lead.
“Feeling a bit dazed is to be expected.” Nash handed him a cordless screwdriver. “Maisie has staked her claim and now you, Jake McAbee, belong to her forever. As her heart belongs to you.”
He’d never belonged to anyone before. Nor anyone to him. Tiffany’s abandonment had only underscored that harsh reality.
“So why does this feel so scary and exhilarating all at the same time?” Crouching beside the metal frame, Jake rested his hands on his knees. “Is it always going to feel like this?”
“Yep.” Nash unwound the protective packing material from the scalloped wooden headboard. “Better get used to it. Part of being a parent.”
Brow creasing, Jake looked at him. “Part of being a parent involves sheer terror?”
“Sure does. Because now you know what it feels like to have your heart walking around outside your body.” Nash leaned the headboard against the wall. “A raw vulnerability that comes with the urge to protect. But on the flip side, there’s nothing like the sweetness of your child’s smile.”
Jake felt bewildered, slightly off-kilter, yet happier than he’d ever been in his life.
They’d finished—barely—when Callie called them to supper.
Nash repacked his toolbox. “I ’spect you better get Callie Girl to do the accessorizing.”
Jake gathered the discarded packing material. “If we can keep Maisie downstairs after supper.”
Nash broadened his chest. “A walk in the orchard with her Pop-Pop ought to keep her occupied.
”
Downstairs, Maisie launched herself at Jake again. She lifted her arms. “My daddy.”
Huddled together in the kitchen, Nash filled Callie in on their plan. Maisie was too excited to eat, but when Callie insisted, Jake stepped into the fray, as well.
“Maisie, you need to do what Callie says.”
Her little mouth pursed, but she picked up her fork. Across the table, Callie gave him a grateful look.
Later, while Nash and Maisie strolled through the trees in the twilight of evening, he headed upstairs with Callie to Maisie’s bedroom. His heart started thumping erratically again.
Would she like what he’d bought Maisie?
Chapter Eleven
Maisie’s eyes widened at the sight of her big-girl bed. Her little hands flew to her mouth.
“Does she like it?” Jake whispered to Callie.
Maisie danced on her tiptoes. “Oh. Oh. Oh.”
“She likes it a lot.” Callie held out her hand to Maisie. “Come see the big-girl bed your daddy bought you, Maisie.”
BooWoo clutched under her arm, the little girl crawled onto the bed. The robin’s-egg blue of the scalloped headboard and footboard was lovely.
Jake stuck his hands in his pockets. “Nash and I set the frame low. As she grows, it can be adjusted higher off the floor.”
Propping BooWoo against the pillow, Maisie ran her palm over the colorful pastel squares of the bedspread.
Jake crouched beside the bed. “Your favorite colors.” He glanced up at Callie. “I think.”
Callie sat beside Maisie. “Pink, green, lavender and yellow are her favorite colors.” She flipped back the comforter. “Look at your new sheets.”
Maisie gave a tiny squeal of happiness and slid underneath the covers. Callie had never seen her so happy. The pink rosebud sheets were perfect.
“You did great, Jake McAbee. Really great.”
He chewed his lip. “You think so?”
“You thought of everything.” She gestured. “Fluffy shams and matching curtains, too. A little girl’s dream bedroom.”
“Just so it’s Maisie’s dream.”
Maisie flopped backward and laughed.
Callie tilted her head. “I think it’s Maisie’s dream and more come true.”
“As long as she’s happy.”
Callie smiled. “You’ve made your daughter so happy today. And not just because you bought her a big-girl bed.”
Throwing off the covers, Maisie sprang forward and hurled herself at him. “My daddy, tank you, tank you, tank you.”
He pressed his lips to the top of her head. “You’re very welcome, my Maisie.” He smiled at Callie. “Her hair smells like strawberries. And sunshine.”
Maisie tugged her father onto the mattress next to Callie. Her arms went around them both. And Callie found herself physically closer to Jake than she’d ever been before. Her heart turned over.
Quickly, he freed himself from Maisie’s tight embrace. The smile slid off his face, replaced with the aloofness she’d come to know all too well. A pinprick of tears stung her eyelids. Being close to her made him uncomfortable.
Hollowness bottoming in her stomach, Callie inserted a few more inches, keeping Maisie’s warm, pajama-clad body between them.
Was he still hung up on his ex-wife? Or after what Tiff had done, would he never trust another woman again? Callie’s relationship with the woman who’d hurt him most made her the last person on earth with whom he’d ever open up.
Her lower lip quivering, she got off the bed. “Bedtime, Maisie.”
Maisie wound her arms around her father’s neck. “No bed.”
Callie folded the cardigan around her body. “Yes, bed.”
Letting go of Jake, Maisie bounced, testing the mattress.
“No, ma’am.” Callie took hold of her. “No more jumping on the bed, little monkey.”
Maisie laughed. “May-zee no monkey.” Leaning against her father’s strong, muscled back, her eyes flitted to Jake. “Pway night-night with me and Cawee, my daddy?”
A lump rose in Callie’s throat. Maisie had hardly let go of her father since he’d returned. As if she were afraid if she couldn’t touch him, he’d vanish again. It wasn’t just the big-girl bed she loved.
“She wants you to pray with her before she goes to sleep, Jake.”
One arm supporting Maisie, he scrubbed his other hand over the stubble sandpapering his chin. “I don’t know how to pray, Callie.”
She ran her gaze over the angular line of his jaw, the craggy shape of his brow. To the uncertainty in his blue, blue eyes. “It’s just talking to God. Right, Maisie?”
Maisie pulled at him.
“You don’t have to say anything if you don’t want to, Jake. She just wants to keep you close for as long as possible until she falls asleep.”
“I can do that,” he rasped.
His hand shook as he tucked Maisie—and BooWoo—into bed. Callie stationed herself at the footboard. He loved Maisie so much. How could Tiff have denied him this?
Callie clenched her fist about the rounded bed knob. How could she continue to keep Tiff’s secret? But after everything Jake and Maisie had gone through to find each other, would telling the truth only make things worse? It wasn’t like she knew one way or the other for sure. The real truth was that Jake needed Maisie, and Maisie needed him.
When Jake knelt beside the bed, Maisie smiled. “Me pway fuwst, my daddy, ’kay?”
He took her small hand in his large one. “You pray first, baby.”
Closing her eyes, Maisie lifted her face to the ceiling. “Thank You, God for Cawee... For Pop-Pop... For BooWoo... For tractors...”
Looking over his shoulder at Callie, Jake rolled his eyes.
Farm girls, she mouthed.
His lips twitched.
“... For ’appy juice... For my big-gull bed... For my house...” Maisie laced her tiny fingers into Jake’s. “And my daddy.”
Bowing his head, Jake squeezed his eyes shut.
“My daddy pway now.”
His Adam’s apple bobbed. “Thank You, God, for my Maisie...”
Beneath the sheet, Maisie wiggled in happy delight at the sound of her name.
“For Maisie’s Pop-Pop, for this home, for BooWoo...”
“For Cawee, too...”
Callie gripped the footboard.
“For Callie...” His voice dropped to a whisper. “Th-the best mother Maisie could ever have.”
Her heart skipped a beat. And despite keeping Tiff’s secret, she’d done everything in her power to give Maisie the best father the little girl could ever have.
Jake wasn’t finished praying yet. “Thank You, God, for Callie, the best friend I’ve ever had.”
She covered her mouth with her hand. Friends. What else had she expected him to say?
That was the deal she’d laid out with Jake from the beginning. Why now did she yearn for something more? Yet, how could she ever hope for more with Tiff’s secret lying between them?
“And thank You, God, for...for...” He stumbled.
Was he thinking of Tiff? Suddenly, her chest ached with unshed tears.
“For tractors. Amen.”
Maisie giggled as he probably meant her to. Leaning down, Jake kissed Maisie’s cheek.
She hugged him tight. “I wuv you, my daddy.”
Callie watched Jake’s face transform.
“I love you, too, my Maisie.” One final quick hug. “Sweet dreams, baby.”
Maisie’s brow puckered. “Mowow?”
He smoothed a blond curl off her forehead. “Daddy will see you tomorrow.”
Smiling, she reached for Callie. His hand on the light switch, Jake waited at the door as she and Maisie hugged good-night.
In the hallway, Callie softly shut
the door behind them. From downstairs came the sound of the television. Her father’s usual Thursday night football game.
But she didn’t feel like joining him. Nor going to bed, either. Restless, she didn’t know what she wanted to do.
Halfway down the staircase, Jake sank onto the carpeted step. “Want to talk for a while? Unless you’d rather—”
“No.” She moved toward him. “I’m wound too tight to go to sleep.”
Wound tight didn’t begin to describe what she felt when she was near Jake. Wound tight wasn’t the half of it.
He made room for her to sit beside him.
For a long moment there was silence between them. They both stared at the bottom landing, where it opened into the living room below. Her heart thrummed painfully in her chest.
What did he want to talk about? They’d talked so freely on the phone yesterday. But so much had happened since then.
She moistened her lips. “The big-girl bed was perfect.”
“I figured since I’d be long gone by Christmas, the bed would be an early gift to her from me.” He raked his hand over his hair. “I also hoped if she loved the bed, maybe she wouldn’t hate me so much.”
He was still leaving? Her stomach churned. It was getting harder and harder to rationalize that she was acting in Maisie’s best interests by keeping the little girl on the farm.
“Maisie loves you. She’s always loved you. She was just afraid to let herself love you.”
His eyes flicked to hers. “Like father, like daughter, huh?”
Callie wasn’t sure he was just talking about Maisie. Was she hoping he wasn’t only talking about Maisie?
* * *
Beside him on the stair, Callie smelled like apples and cinnamon. Jake rubbed the back of his neck, trying to get his wildly beating heart under control.
Sitting this close to her messed with his head. She was Maisie’s mom in every way that counted. There could never be anything but friendship between them. To reach for more would be to invite heartache and risk damaging this fragile beginning with his daughter.
Tiffany was proof he wasn’t capable of sustaining a relationship with a woman. Somehow he’d managed to ruin his marriage. If he hoped to successfully co-parent with Callie, he couldn’t afford to destroy the tenuous truce they’d established.