One Hundred Lessons (An Aspen Cove Small Town Romance Book 15)

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One Hundred Lessons (An Aspen Cove Small Town Romance Book 15) Page 4

by Kelly Collins


  "Hey," Alex said. "What are you doing?"

  "What you should have. I'm comforting her and redirecting her energy toward something positive."

  He stood and looked at the cutouts she laminated each summer and used in her classroom.

  "A fish is positive?"

  "It is to a confused little girl."

  She lined up several primary colors and spread a few of the fish in front of Maddie. "Do you think you can make these look pretty while I talk to him?" Mercy nodded her head toward Alex.

  Maddie picked up the red crayon and started coloring. As soon as the sweet little thing was occupied, she walked to where Alex stood.

  "Wow," he said. "How did you do that?"

  "I have an empathy gene. Which is something you seem to lack."

  He stared at her like she'd spoken a foreign language. "I can empathize. She's lost her mom, but what am I supposed to do about it? I mean … what person leaves a kid with a stranger?" His voice hitched up a notch with every word.

  "Someone fulfilling the wishes of a friend, I guess. It was misguided and not thought out, but somewhere in the craziness, I imagine she thought she was doing the right thing."

  He peeked around her. "I can't keep a kid. Hell, I don't know if she's even mine. Just because someone says so doesn't make it true. Her mother was a groupie."

  In a whispered yell, Mercy said, "That woman was her mother, and there's a good likelihood you could be her father. The last thing you want to do is make her feel unwanted."

  Her head snapped around to look at Maddie, who moved the red crayon and drew hearts all over the next fish.

  Feeling the heat of anger rise, she gave him her best teachers, do-what-I-say look, and pointed to Alex's booth. "Have a seat. You and I need to talk."

  Like a star student, he did what she said. He lumbered to the bench and sat.

  "Why do you care?" His hand ran through his short hair, leaving it sticking up like a kid who'd woken from a nap.

  "Because I know what it feels like not to be wanted."

  "Is that why you left your underwear in my fence? You wanted me to want you?"

  She gripped the edge of the table until the blood left her fingers. "This isn't about me and whether I did or didn't leave my panties in your fence."

  He grabbed his phone, moved his fingers over the screen, and then shoved it in front of her.

  Her whole groupie experience was on security footage. She wanted to melt into the seat and disappear.

  "What does that have to do with Maddie?"

  "A lot. You're chastising me for my behavior when yours is questionable."

  She couldn't argue with that. A part of her wanted to grab his phone and find some way to delete the recording. What would her peers think if they saw the video? Mortification sat like a brick in her gut.

  She nodded. "You're right, and you can flog me later, but right now, you need a plan for Maddie. What are you going to do?"

  He let out a grunt. "I'm going to call child services. I mean … who abandons a kid in a small-town diner?"

  "Are you kidding me?" she asked through gritted teeth. "What if she's yours?"

  "What if she's not? Maybe this is some crazy way for a mother to get her daughter a better life."

  Getting arrested for assault wouldn't be good for her career, but Mercy was ready to throw a punch. "You have a big ego. Too bad it's pressing on your brain, making it inactive." She let go of the table edge and flexed her hands to get blood flow to her numb fingertips. "In what world would living with you provide that beautiful little girl a better life? Money doesn't buy happiness."

  His head moved side to side. "Nope, but it buys clothes, a better education, good food, and a roof over her head."

  "If that's the case, then the mother failed. She considered you to be a decent man—a man who would look at that sad little face and feel something other than inconvenience."

  "I don't have a clue about raising kids."

  "You were one once. Just remember the good times and try to repeat them, and let the bad times be a lesson for what not to do. Child services should be your last resort. It's not that they're a bad organization. They do wonderful things for kids, but if you're her father, do you want to put her in a system where she'll most likely see several homes before her eighteenth birthday? Where she'll always wonder what was wrong with her for her parents not to want her?"

  He groaned and scrubbed his face with his palms. "I never wanted kids."

  She pushed herself against the back of the booth. The more inches she put between them, the safer Alex was. Generally, she wasn't a violent person, but she was a fierce protector when it came to children.

  "If you didn't want kids, you should have made sure you were shooting blanks."

  Alex's body twitched. "I always use protection."

  "Nothing but sterility is a hundred percent. If you whip out the fun gun, you need to accept the responsibilities of firing it."

  Looking like a ghost dripping sweat, Alex nodded. "I hate that you're right, but you are. Do you know where I can get a paternity test?"

  Maisey dropped off the nuggets and fries to Maddie. "Sorry sweetie, Ben ran out of the frozen ones and made these especially for you. They're not nuggets, but chicken fingers."

  The sweetest giggle came from Maddie. "Chickens don't have fingers."

  Mercy looked over her shoulder to see Maddie's tears had dried, and a hint of a smile played at the corners of her lips.

  "You're so smart," Maisey told her.

  A full-blown smile appeared on Maddie's face showing a single missing tooth that made her look more adorable than ever.

  Mercy leaned to the side so Alex could see. "That, right there, should be your goal every day. I imagine she's seen enough sorrow for a lifetime. Make her smile, Alex. A million childless people would want to be in your shoes right now." She was one of them.

  "As for the paternity test … see Doc. If he can't do one, then I'm sure he knows someone who can. Until you know, don't make decisions that you'll regret later."

  "I've got a lot to think about."

  Mercy inched toward the edge of the booth. "Don't think, do, but make sure it is the right thing." She got up and took a seat across from Maddie.

  While the little one gobbled up her chicken and fries, Mercy said a silent prayer that she'd be all right. She glanced over her shoulder to where Alex sat stiffly. His face took on the green hue of a kid who ate something bad. She could let herself feel sorry for him, but what good would that do? Alex wasn't the one who was homeless and at the mercy of an adult who didn't want children.

  That seemed the way of things. Those who wanted children couldn't have them. Those who did often didn't want them or couldn't provide for them.

  What she wouldn't do for a man to show up and tell her a child was hers. It was a crazy, impossible scenario, but she'd be overjoyed. Hell, she'd even be thrilled to have a woman show up and tell her she had Randy's baby and hand the child over to her. It didn't matter whose body a child came from. What mattered was whose heart they'd live in.

  On that thought, she gathered her things. "You keep the crayons and the fish. I've got to go, but Alex is right there, and he'll take care of you." She hoped she was right. "Hopefully, I'll see you soon." Before she packed up, she gathered her things and stood to leave. "Maisey is right. You are a smart girl." She bent over and kissed the top of Maddie's head. "Be brave."

  She walked past Alex and said, "be kind."

  "Wait a minute. What's your name?"

  Mercy almost told him, but she remembered the video. "It doesn't matter. Do the right thing and be the best you."

  "What if the best me is sitting here, right now?"

  She rubbed her temples. "Learn to be better."

  Chapter Six

  Alex moved from his booth to where Maddie sat coloring fish. "Did you get enough to eat?"

  She nodded and went back to decorating the fish.

  He watched her a few minutes. She was
a lefty, just like him. Her hair was darker than his, but in the same range of brown. It was possible that it fell in the color range between his and her mother's.

  She looked up from her coloring and cocked her head to the side.

  Staring at each other, they were like adversaries analyzing the opponent.

  Maddie slid a fish across the table. "Here."

  He glanced at the fish and blue crayon she gave him. How long had it been since he colored anything? His childhood wasn't crayons and sandwiches with the crust cut off. It was holding Mom's hair when she threw up or checking on her in the middle of the night to make sure she didn't drown in her vomit.

  "You want me to color one of your fish?"

  She nodded.

  He picked up the crayon and made stripes from lips to fins. What was he going to do about this little girl? He needed a plan and fast.

  Maisey moved by. "Do you two need anything?"

  His gut twisted. "More than anyone can provide at this point. I have no idea what I'm doing."

  "Looks to me like you're coloring, and that's a start."

  The crayon broke under his tight grip. "Can you tell me how to get ahold of the doctor in town?" What he needed more than anything was confirmation. There wasn't much sense in making plans if Maddie wasn't his.

  "I can do better than tell you; I can introduce you." She stepped back and pointed to an older man sitting in the corner, reading a paper and sipping coffee. "That's Doc right there. He won't mind if you go over for a chat." She looked around the diner. "I'll sit with Ms. Maddie and color."

  Alex moved out of the booth, and Maisey moved in.

  Bothering the man on his break didn't seem right, but desperate times and all that. He drifted toward the corner booth.

  "Excuse me, sir. Are you the town doctor?"

  "Parker," the man laid down his paper and held out his hand. "I'm Doc Parker, but everyone calls me Doc. What can I do for you, son?"

  The way he called him son scratched at his insides like sandpaper. He was no one's child, especially not the two people who procreated him; he was more of a child of the world. His parents were merely a vessel and a paycheck. How he made it to adulthood was a surprise.

  "I apologize for interrupting your solitude, but I have a dilemma."

  "There isn't much quiet in a diner with the clanking of silverware, the bell above the door, the grill's sizzle, and that jukebox playing in the corner. Spit it out."

  He glanced over his shoulder to look at Maddie. "That little girl was dropped off by a woman who says she's mine."

  Doc furrowed his brows to the point the bushy bits touched in the center. "Her mama just dumped her in the diner?"

  Alex shook his head. "Do you mind if I sit?"

  Doc shoved his paper to the side. "Sit down before you fall down. You're as pale as a moonbeam."

  He scooted onto the bench. "Her mother didn't drop her off. I'm told her mother died, and her mother's friend was fulfilling a final wish."

  "You're one of those musicians from Samantha's band, right?" He rubbed the white whiskers on his chin. "Does this kind of stuff happen to you guys a lot?"

  "First time for me, and I'm not sure what to do. I mean, I've had women tell me they wanted my child, but this is the first time I've seen my name on a birth certificate that wasn't my own."

  "Have you talked to Sheriff Cooper? He could confirm the story about the mother's death."

  "Right now, I'm in shock. I'm not even sure she's mine. Can you do a paternity test?"

  "Is there a possibility she's yours?" He shifted his eyes toward Maddie.

  "Yes, sir. While I always used condoms, I suppose there's a failure rate to take into account."

  Doc cleared his throat. "The CDC lists the failure rate at thirteen percent. In my book, those odds aren't all that good. The best way to not have a baby is not to have sex."

  "That's not realistic." He could go without a lot of things, but sex wasn't one of them. Not only did it feel amazing, but it relaxed him. Sex was a part of a healthy diet, just like vegetables, sleep, and exercise. "Talking about my sex life is not why I'm here."

  "Isn't it? Seems to me that's exactly why you're sitting in my booth." He jutted his chin toward Maddie. "You don't get one of those without sex."

  He couldn't argue the logic. "Can you do the test?"

  "Yes, I can. It takes up to a week or so for the results to come back, but I've got a test in my clinic." He picked his paper up. "Give me ten minutes to finish Dear Abby, and I'll meet you there."

  Alex moved from the booth, "Thank you, Doc."

  "You should visit the sheriff first."

  "I will." He took a step back.

  "Son, just remember, she didn't choose you either, but you can choose how you handle it."

  "Is that from Dear Abby?"

  "Nope," Doc tapped his head. "That's from experience, and what you do today will follow her forever."

  Alex trudged toward Maddie. Each step he took slowed with the weight on his shoulders.

  "Hey, Maddie," he sat on the edge of the red bench beside her. "Those are some beautiful fish." He looked at Maisey. "Thank you for keeping her busy."

  "You don't need to thank me. She's a pleasure. After you two get settled, you'll have to take her to meet Sosie. She's a local artist." Maisey held up one of Maddie's fish. "Your daughter has an eye for color."

  Her words hit him so hard in the chest he sucked in a breath. There was an excellent chance she was his. Deep inside, the truth danced in his cells; Maddie was his, but what was he going to do with her?

  He wasn't father material. He was on the road more than he was home. She stared at him, and he looked deep into her eyes. Eyes that somehow told him not to screw this up.

  "Maddie, we need to pack up. We're going to visit the sheriff's office and then Doc."

  Her eyes bugged. "No shots."

  "That's right, no shots." He hoped he was right. He wasn't sure if they did swabs or blood samples. "Let me pay Ms. Maisey while you clean up your fish and crayons."

  He stood and took out his wallet.

  Maisey handed him the bill for his and Maddie's lunch. He paid it and gathered the folder and Maddie's suitcase. Never in his life had he considered he'd have a five-year-old.

  Maddie followed Poppy around the office while Sheriff Cooper dug into the whereabouts of Layla Baker. He made a few calls, hung up, and took a deep breath.

  The sheriff looked around. "Did they go in the back?"

  Alex nodded. "Poppy took her to see the cells."

  "Kids are fascinated with them. My daughter Kellyn loves to lock up her dolls when they've misbehaved." He set his hands on his desk. "Layla Baker died of a drug overdose a little over a month ago. The coroner couldn't say if it was accidental or on purpose."

  Alex's hands shook. He was an adult when his mother died, and it still tore him apart. Could he have changed anything if he'd been there? That would always be the question in his mind. Then again, did his mother have much of a life? She drank and slept.

  "Thank you for going to the trouble of finding out."

  "What are you going to do about Maddie?"

  He drew a blank. "What can I do? I'll figure out how to keep her alive until I get the results back from Doc."

  The sheriff's lips stretched into a thin line.

  Alex considered his word choice. "What I mean is, I'll take care of her until I get the results back. She's in no danger if you're worried."

  Sheriff Cooper steepled his hands and touched his lips. "I am worried about her safety and welfare. Handing a single man a five-year-old is like asking a waitress to diffuse a bomb. It's not really in your lane. Should I call child services and have them come? They could place her in a home until all of this is sorted out?"

  The blonde's voice sounded loud and clear in his ear. Child services should be your last resort.

  "No, I'll take care of her until everything gets straightened out. Is there anything I should be worried about as far as
having her in my home? I'm listed on her birth certificate, and that makes me her father on paper, I suppose."

  "You're covered. I don't imagine anyone would fault you for taking in a child that's legally yours. The only issue I see is if someone comes out of the woodwork to claim her, but the DNA test will at least tell you if there's a possibility of that happening."

  "I guess I'm in a wait-and-see mode for now."

  "Once everything settles down, let's get our girls together. Kellyn and Maddie are close in age, and I'm sure they would enjoy the company."

  Who would have thought he'd be making playdates? "That sounds great. I'm sure Maddie would love that." Hell, he wasn't sure of anything. All he knew was he woke up this morning feeling damn good. There wasn't a naked woman on his lawn, or a pair of underwear shoved in his fence. Things were looking up until that damn bell above the door rang at the diner, and everything went to hell.

  When Poppy came back, Alex held out his hand for Maddie to take. When she did, he folded his around hers until her tiny hand disappeared. He'd never been responsible for something so delicate, and yet, with all that she went through, Maddie had to be tough on the inside—like him. Hopefully, if she turned out to be his, that was something he passed on. Fierce inner fortitude would always help her during tough times.

  Twenty minutes later, they had their cheeks swabbed and were on their way to his house. Buckling her into the back seat, he knew his first task was ordering her a booster seat, not because he thought about it, but because when Doc walked them out to the car, he told Alex she was too small to ride in a regular seat. Thank God for overnight shipping.

  He pulled directly into the garage and helped Maddie out of the back seat. She held on to her teddy bear with one hand and took his hand with the other. His free hand grabbed her suitcase.

  They walked inside and stopped in the kitchen. He wasn't sure what to call the place. To him, it was home, but to her, it was unknown. If she wasn't his, it would be a stopover. If she indeed was his daughter, he was unbelievably unprepared.

  Looking at his house like it was his first time made him realize there was nothing but black, gray, and white. There wasn't a color in sight unless he counted the soda cans and beer bottles dotting the surfaces of the coffee table.

 

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