WHOSE CHILD?

by Susan Gable

  In a part of the mall they hadn't explored yesterday, twinkling pumpkins at a costume store caught Sarah's attention. "Can we go in there?"

  "Sure."

  "Not by the scary stuff." She tugged him to the left, entering the store as far away from an animated, life-size Frankenstein as they could get.

  "Okay. What do you want to look at?"

  "Look at this!" She pulled him toward a cut-out display of the main characters from The Wizard of Oz. Growing more lively with every step, she actually let go of him. She rushed to a shelf and held up a pair of red shoes. "Ruby slippers! These are magic." Sarah placed them on the floor next to her own feet and frowned. "They're too big."

  David pulled out Lexie's list, then scanned the boxes. "Here, sport. Try these."

  She plopped onto the floor and pulled off her sneakers without untying them. The red shoes sparkled in the light. She stood up, holding out one foot. "Pretty!" She glanced shyly up at him. "Can I—can I have them? Momma's making me a Dorothy dress, but I don't got ruby slippers."

  "Absolutely you can have them." It was the first thing she'd actually asked him for. No way he'd deny her anything, if he could give it to her.

  Her smile and little dimple turned the world right for him. "Really? They're not too 'spensive?" She lifted the box toward him.

  A jab of guilt prodded him as he pretended to consider it. Things must have been hard for Lexie financially. Memories surfaced of his own mother trying to hide her anxiety over the bills from him. If his father had been more generous in the early years, she'd have shed fewer tears.

  Still, it wasn't David's fault Lexie had struggled. Okay, some of it was.

  Most of it. Why hadn't he listened to her, instead of ignoring her concerns?

  "David?" Uncertainty shifted Sarah's tiny features; the dimple vanished along with the smile.

  "Yes, you can have them."

  "Yay!" She took off the red shoes and carefully wrapped the tissue paper around them, reverently placing them back in the box. "Thank you."

  He tied her sneakers, then propped the box containing the magic slippers beneath his arm. "Shall we see what else they have?"

  They explored farther through the shelves and racks. When Sarah gasped, David's head snapped in her direction so fast the muscle in the back of his neck twinged. She pointed. "That's bee-u-tiful. Momma would love that. Wouldn't she look pretty in it?"

  David reached for the filmy pink dress. "What's this supposed to be?"

  "It's Glinda, the Good Witch." Sarah clapped her hands. "Let's get it for her. And find something for you. We'll have fun costumes for Halloween."

  "Do you think she'd like it?" He lifted the dress from the rack. With Lexie's dark hair and curvy figure, she'd be a knockout in it. His pulse picked up at the image forming in his mind. Lexie in this dress, the dance at the firehall … holding her close.

  "Yes! Please, get it for her? And something for you?"

  "Okay, we'll buy this for her and look for a costume for me." He draped the dress over his arm. They wandered the aisles in search of something for him. What would appeal to Lexie? "How about a pirate?" He picked up an eye patch, shuffling the other items. "Arrgg, matey, swab the deck and hoist the sails."

  Sarah giggled. "That's silly."

  "And look, I can have a parrot on my shoulder, too." A stuffed parrot attached to the costume with Velcro.

  Her smile was all the answer he needed. He gathered the items and looked around for a checkout. In the center of the store, they both skidded to a stop. Sarah's mouth dropped open. "Wow. That's the most huge-mongous pumpkin ever."

  "I'll say." The air-fan inflatable jack-o'-lantern towered over his daughter. "That would look cool in the front yard, don't you think?"

  Sarah nodded, and he added it to their now-humongous tower of purchases.

  They headed for the register, David staggering under the awkward load balanced in his arms. As he signed the credit card slip he felt Sarah press against his leg. Accepting the huge bag from the salesgirl, he turned, shuffling awkwardly with Sarah glued to him like that, finding a pair of teenage girls staring at Sarah.

  One shook her head. "Your poor little girl. What's wrong with her face?"

  "Nothing. What's wrong with your manners? Or didn't your parents teach you any?"

  The girl's pierced eyebrow rose, taking the silver ball with it. "Whoa, take it easy. I was just curious."

  "Curiosity is fine. Hurting a child's feelings is something else. Usually it's called rude." David cupped Sarah's head. "Come on, sport. Let's take these things to the car, and go find your purple coat."

  Several yards out of earshot, David stifled a few muttered curses. Sarah giggled.

  Amazed, he looked down at her. "Why are you laughing?"

  "What's wrong with your manners?" she repeated, looking at him with wide, adoring eyes. "That's funny. Momma says ignore rude people. Would she get mad if I said that?"

  "I have absolutely no idea." And he didn't. But he puffed out his chest and added a spring in his step. He'd championed his daughter, and she liked it.

  They made their way down the long corridor, stopping in several other stores. They added a pair of white-and-pink sneakers and black snow boots to their collection of purchases. One department store remained to search for her coat, but first they returned to the SUV. David's fingers had ridges pressed into them from all the handles of shopping bags. "That's better," he said, slamming the back window of the vehicle. "Just one thing left to find, and that's your coat. We'll try this last store here, and if we can't find it, I guess we'll have to go someplace else."

  "'kay."

  Back inside the final department store, Sarah tugged on his arm.

  "What?"

  Her cheeks pinkened. "I have to go potty."

  "Okay." He turned around. "Let's go to the motel. We can come back after lunch to look for your coat."

  She danced from foot to foot. "I gotta go now."

  Uh-oh. That sounded like a potential Daddy Lesson if ever he heard one. He glanced around. Rest rooms were usually by customer service, right? Taking Sarah's hand, he headed across the store. Past the beauty salon, and the catalog pick-up counter. Just near the exit doors, there was a long corridor with a sign indicating the rest rooms in that direction.

  "Hurry, David." Sarah waddled, her legs pressed tightly together.

  At the end of the hallway, he halted, staring at the two options: Women. Men.

  Where the hell was a single dad with a little girl supposed to go?

  Sending her into the women's room by herself wasn't an option. No way he'd risk anything happening to her. Letting her out of his sight and possibly losing her again … no way.

  She wiggled, hopping around. "David!"

  A middle-aged man came out of the men's room.

  "Hey. Anybody else in there?" David asked him.

  "Don't think so," the man replied as he sauntered down the corridor.

  David pushed the door open, looked around. "Anybody in here?" When no one answered, he pulled on Sarah's hand.

  "Hey! I can't go in there! That's the boys' room."

  "You can't go in the ladies' room by yourself. Come on."

  "I wish Momma were here."

  At the moment, so do I. He tugged his daughter inside, checking it out further.

  No feet under the stalls, so the coast was clear.

  Sarah wrinkled her nose. "This bathroom stinks." She pointed at the urinals. "What's that?"

  David turned the dead-bolt lock on the main door. "Never mind. I thought you had to potty?" He urged her toward one of the green metal stalls. "Go on."

  "You hafta put a seat cover on. Momma says so."

  "Of course." Entering the stall, he reached for the dispenser. "It's empty."

  "Momma puts paper on it then." Sarah danced more urgently, like she had a pocketful of fire ants. "Hurry!"

  Male anatomy made things so much easier. He draped toilet paper over the seat for her. "There. Okay?" />
  "Yes. Now go away!"

  He left the stall, holding the door closed at the top.

  A few minutes later, Sarah pushed against it. He stepped aside and let her out. "Okay now, sport?"

  She nodded. "Gotta wash my hands."

  Over at the sink, he adjusted the water for her, then picked her up so she could reach the foul-smelling soap.

  The outer door rattled. "Just a minute," David yelled over the splashing water. "Be right out."

  Sarah took her sweet time drying her hands with the paper towels he pulled from the dispenser for her, meticulously stroking each finger.

  "Hurry up, sport. Someone else needs to get in here."

  She tossed the wadded-up paper in the trash can as he unlocked the bolt and opened the door. Ushering Sarah into the hallway, he stopped just outside the rest room.

  A baby-faced security guard blocked the way. "Put your hands up and step away from the kid!"

  "What?" David glanced around. A uniformed woman security officer stood behind the first man as backup.

  Another woman, armed with shopping bags and an enormous black purse dangling from one arm, pointed. "See, there he is! I told you he'd taken a little girl in there with him!"

  David held his hands out in front of him. "Look, I'm not sure what's going on here, but this is my daughter."

  Sarah locked her arms around his leg.

  "Sure. I said hands up and move away from the kid. The cops are on their way." The young rent-a-cop lowered his hand toward a nightstick.

  Cold sweat beaded across the back of David's neck. Becoming the beating victim of an overzealous wannabe-cop wasn't his idea of a good time. He slowly raised his hands over his head. "Look, if you'll just—"

  "Shut up! Turn around and face the wall."

  As David started to comply, the woman guard rushed forward and grabbed Sarah, whose scream echoed in the confined space. His leg shook as she tried to pry his child off him. "Hey! What do you think you're doing?"

  His hands came down and he spun back toward the guards as a pair of patrolmen raced into the fray, making the narrow hallway feel even tighter. He shoved at the security guard, who went sprawling onto the tile floor, then David reached for Sarah.

  "What the hell is going on here?" the uniformed cop yelled. "You!" He pointed at David. "Turn around and get your damn hands on the wall, now! Get that kid outta here!"

  Sarah's terrified shrieks tore at David's heart. "Sarah, it's okay. Just go with the police. Everything's going to be fine." He turned and placed his palms against the rough plaster surface.

  The cop pressed against the small of David's back, and began frisking him. "Got any weapons? Anything else I should know about?"

  "No. Like I said to security, that's my daughter. I didn't know taking a child to the bathroom was a crime."

  "Put your hand behind your back. I'm cuffing you for both our safety while we get this figured out."

  David lowered his right hand. Metal snapped around it. Before he knew it, he stood, hands cuffed together, pressing his forehead against the cold wall. In the background, he could hear Sarah's sobbing and a woman's animated voice. "The little girl told him she didn't want to go in the men's room and that she wanted her mother, but he just pulled her in there. Last week I saw on TV some creep did that in Florida and molested the child."

  "Yes, ma'am," said the other patrolman. "We all saw that. You were right to tell security."

  "Turn around and talk to me," the cop said.

  David sighed, then launched into the explanation of how a simple trip to the bathroom had gone very awry.

  The cop grabbed David's elbow, led him to the end of the corridor. "You got ID?"

  David nodded. "Back pocket."

  The cop fished out the leather wallet. "You stay right here. Don't move."

  A small crowd had gathered, all of them eyeing him as though he was lower than the dirt inside a keyboard. He anxiously looked for Sarah, but she was hidden behind the cluster of security people and police.

  Time ticked by one agonizing second after another.

  Hell. Would she repeat her initial reaction, that he wasn't her father? That her daddy had black hair and a crown? That would likely earn him a quick trip to jail. Or would she remember all the things he and Lexie had told her about the scientific tests that proved he was her father?

  "I want my momma!"

  David's chest tightened. Poor thing was going to be totally traumatized by the whole thing. Shoot, so was he.

  "Don't touch me!" Sarah shouted.

  A woman yelped. "Ow. The kid bit me."

  Sarah's face appeared around the side of the woman security guard. Her eyes locked onto his.

  "Daddy!" she cried. "I want my daddy!" She darted around the woman and raced to David, once more latching on to his legs, making him rock backward against the wall. The handcuffs bit into his skin, and the circulation got cut off, but he didn't care.

  His baby had called him daddy.

  That was worth being cuffed and treated like the scum of the earth. But he wished his hands were free so he could stroke her hair, gather her into his arms and hold her.

  "It's okay, honey."

  She sniffled, then looked up at him. "I told you I can't go in the boys' room! Now look!"

  A chuckle burst from deep inside him. "You're right. I should have listened to you. Next time I'll go in the ladies' room."

  Sarah stomped her foot. "You can't do that, either."

  "No, you can't. Then I would have to arrest you."

  The cop reached behind David to unlock the cuffs. "We called the Mill Creek Bed-and-Breakfast, where the child said she lived. The woman there corroborated your story about being the kid's father."

  "Dr. Riley did a test," Sarah said. "I told you that. He's my daddy."

  David rubbed his wrists, closing his eyes for a split-second, wanting to enjoy the moment. He's my daddy. Then he opened them again. Some aspects of this scene, like the cuffs, didn't qualify as the best of his life—not a Kodak moment by any means.

  Lexie was probably freaking out after a call from the police. She'd need reassurance as much as Sarah. As soon as they got back out to the car, he'd give her a call.

  The cop handed David his wallet. "Next time find a store with a single rest room and avoid all this, okay?"

  David tucked the black trifold into his rear pocket. "Yes, Officer. Thank you." He knelt down and wrapped his arms around Sarah. She pressed her face tight into his neck and began to sob again. "It's okay, honey. I'm sorry that scared you so much."

  "They taked me away from you! That was wrong."

  "Yes, it was. But they were trying to protect you. They thought I was a bad man."

  "You're not a bad man. You're my daddy!" Sarah hiccuped against him.

  "Yes, I am." He rubbed her back. "And no one is ever going to take you away from me again."

  Not the police. Not Lexie. No one.

  * * *

  Chapter 14

  « ^ »

  "Thanks for phoning, David. Yes, I'm okay. Bye." Lexie pressed the Off button on the portable phone and dropped it onto the table.

  She called me Daddy, Lex.

  David's words echoed through her mind.

  Sarah had made a breakthrough in accepting him. Granted, neither of them would have chosen the particular experience that had led to it, but now… David had been thrilled.

  Lexie wanted to be happy for him. But it hurt too much. Sarah was slipping away from her.

  She rubbed at the center of her chest. Short, shallow breaths were all she could manage. Her heart thudded, skipped a beat, then pounded harder. Sweat beaded just below her hairline on her forehead.

  "Missy? Who was on the phone?" Pappy strolled into the kitchen, heading for the jacket hooks on the back wall.

  "D-David." She gasped, massaging the spot harder.

  "You okay? You look kinda pale."

  She shook her head. "Hard to breathe. Some—something's wrong."

&
nbsp; Pappy grabbed her by the forearm and pulled her out of the chair. "Let's go."

  "Where?"

  "Across the street, where do you think? I ain't got the strength to carry you, gal, so keep those feet moving."

  The cold air that rustled the cornstalks on the porch helped ease the tightness around her chest. She let Pappy guide her across Main and into the clinic. "I—I remember the last time we did this."

  "Shh. Concentrate on breathing. You talked too much that time, too. Funny, but I thought next time we did this it would be the other way 'round, with you helping me." He opened the glass doors to the clinic. "Need a hand here," he announced to the place at large. "Missy's having trouble breathing."

  The room came to life, the women behind the reception desk springing to action. Martha, the clinic's nurse, came to take her arm, while Sue Ann dashed down the exam-room corridor. "Dr. Riley? We need you right now!"

  Before she knew it, Lexie was on an exam bed, staring up at the white drop ceiling in the small emergency bay recently added to the clinic. Martha pressed her fingertips to Lexie's wrist, took her pulse, then checked her blood pressure. Kegan came around the curtain, concern etched along the lines of his face as he removed the stethoscope from around his neck. "What's going on, Lexie?"

  "No big deal." She forced a smile.

  "Hey, I decide what's a big deal and what's not in this clinic, okay?"

  Lexie nodded. "My heart feels funny, like it's missing a beat every once in a while. It's hard to breathe—my chest is tight."

  "When did this start?" He looked over the things Martha had jotted on Lexie's chart.

  "About ten minutes ago."

  "And what were you doing?"

  "I'd just gotten off the phone."

  "Sit up for me." Kegan helped her up, then warmed the metal end of the stethoscope against his palm. "Was there something about this phone call that upset you?"

  She shook her head. "Not really."

  Kegan snorted. "That didn't seem convincing to me." He made her breathe slow and deep, listening to her lungs and heart. Gradually she began to relax.

  "Lungs sound okay, heart not bad. A little fast. But still, better safe than sorry. Martha, get her into a gown and hook her up." He inclined his head toward some sort of machine at the side of the gurney.