From Duty to Daddy

by Sue MacKay

  ‘Where do I start?’ He sounded completely bewildered. His bemused gaze flicked back and forth between Aimee and her.

  At least he wanted to start. But wait until the shock completely wore off. It might be a different story then. Charlie turned to Aimee, who had her cup upside down, pointing in the general direction of her open mouth. Aimee. The love of her life. The reason she was in this situation. Warmth sneaked into Charlie. She never got tired of watching her daughter.

  ‘Up, up.’ Aimee’s face began screwing up for an outburst.

  Moving quickly, Charlie reached for a damp cloth to wipe some of the mess off Aimee’s face before lifting her to hold her tightly. She wanted to hand Aimee to Marshall but for the life of her she couldn’t. She froze, unable to make the move. Unable to share her daughter with this man. Their daughter, remember? Looking over the top of Aimee’s head, her gaze clashed with Marshall’s intent one. Was this when he ran screaming from the house, never to be seen again? Admittedly he’d handled himself well so far but it had only been a few minutes since the truth had dawned on him.

  His face softened from shock to awe. ‘Charlie Lang, a mother. It suits you.’ Then his gaze shifted infinitesimally, slowly cruised over Aimee. Looking for?

  She said, ‘She’s got your eyes.’

  ‘Yeah.’

  ‘You want to hold her?’

  His hands jammed into his pockets as he took a backward step.

  Okay. Too soon. Shuffling sideways with her heavy bundle, she flicked the kettle on. ‘I’ll make that coffee I promised. How do you take it?’ Her stomach would probably heave if she drank any but she had to do something other than hold Aimee, who’d gone very quiet and still. Twisting her neck, she saw Aimee studying the man in their kitchen.

  ‘Black and strong.’ Marshall was suddenly avoiding looking at either of them, apparently finding the view out the window far more interesting.

  Aimee wriggled to be put down. Placing her carefully on her feet, Charlie watched as she tottered over to Marshall and stood staring up at this stranger. An important stranger, if all went well. Rubbing her hands up and down her arms, she wondered what to do if Marshall decided he didn’t want anything to do with Aimee. Even if her health didn’t let her down, every child was entitled to two parents.

  The need to explain things gripped Charlie and she began talking fast. ‘From the moment I found out I was pregnant I wanted you to have the opportunity to decide what role you’d have in your child’s life.’

  He turned back to face her, saying absolutely nothing. Thankfully his steady gaze didn’t condemn her.

  So she continued. ‘I’ve spent a lot of time looking for you in between having Aimee and learning to be a good mum. I checked every known social network on the net. Then I started phoning M Hunters in various states.’

  His eyes widened as he gave a grim smile. ‘Truly?’

  ‘You wouldn’t believe how many there are in the US.’ Too many. Her phone bills were horrendous some months. ‘Marshall, I don’t want anything from you. Not for me. Certainly nothing like money or other handouts. Because of an inheritance from my mother I’m comfortably off and can easily provide whatever my child needs as she grows up. But I do want you to know her. Aimee needs her father to be in her life in some capacity.’ Her mouth was getting drier by the word, her tongue beginning to stick to the roof of her mouth.

  Marshall’s steady gaze unsettled her. What was going on in that head of his? If only he’d say something. Like what? I’m thrilled to learn I’ve got a child. Let’s play happy families and see how that goes. We know nothing about each other but our child will solve all the differences.

  Sounding good so far? Absolutely wonderful. If it wasn’t completely fictitious.

  *

  Marshall watched the emotions scudding across Charlie’s fragile-looking face as she babbled at him. He could read her like a neon sign. She was filled with the need to explain, to be fair and honest, and yet she was afraid he was going to skew everything for her and her little girl. That really stung despite knowing she was right on that score. But not in the way she imagined. She knew nothing about him. Had no idea he would make the worst father imaginable because of the upbringing he’d had. His fingers zipped across his head. What if he’d inherited his father’s genes? No way was he going to find out. The stakes were too high for all of them.

  Clearing his throat, he hurried to put her at ease. ‘Charlie, whatever happens, however I decide to play this…’ Play was the wrong word. He shrugged, temporarily out of the right words, then carried on. ‘I will never try to take Aimee away from you. By that I mean I won’t demand she lives with me six months of the year or anything equally hideous.’

  She didn’t relax. ‘You would have a fight on your hands if you did.’

  ‘I figured.’ He tried for a smile, managed to paste something resembling one on his face. ‘You could’ve picked a far better guy to be Aimee’s dad.’ If only he was more like his grandfather than his own father. A caring, tentative farmer, not a hard-nosed soldier and disciplinarian.

  Her beautiful eyes widened. ‘Come on. If I believed that I wouldn’t have bothered looking for you.’ Then she added with a hint of the fun-loving Charlie he’d once known, ‘You’re a wonderful man. Any girl would be proud to show you off on school sports day.’

  ‘Sports day?’ Gulp. ‘You’re years ahead of me, Charlie.’ He was still trying to grapple with the fact he’d spawned this little kid currently shoving building blocks through juice in the middle of the floor. Kind of messy. Kind of cute. Slam. His heart squeezed. Hard. She’s mine? I did that? Helped make Aimee? He dragged his knuckles down his cheeks, digging in deep, checking he was awake, if he was feeling something or this was a dream. Everything was real. All too damned real. Spinning around, he charged for the door. He needed air, needed to get out of Charlie’s space. Needed to think without seeing Charlie’s concerns glittering out from those tragic eyes.

  Why did she look like that? He didn’t remember seeing anything but laughter in her eyes and face before. Guess last time had been all about fun. Today was about consequences and reality.

  Stumbling down the front steps, he charged down the path, reining in the urge to run faster than he’d ever run before. This situation was not going to go away. Looking along the road, he saw the crunched-up vehicle he’d driven down from Auckland. What a mess. Right now New Zealand didn’t seem to be agreeing with him.

  Spinning around, he strode away in the opposite direction, trying to outwalk what he’d left at Charlie’s house. But she followed, in his head, as did that little cutie named Aimee. They were probably never going to leave him again. Even when he was on the other side of the world, fighting battles, looking out for his comrades, those two females would be lurking in some corner of his mind. Gulp.

  Since when did he let situations get the better of him? He was trained to face adversity and deal with it. Despite the sense of freefalling from a plane without a parachute, he grinned. Or was it a grimace? In the army they didn’t teach you to deal with being told about eighteen-month-old daughters.

  But you’re more than a soldier. You’re a doctor. Doctors nurtured, cared, mended, saved.

  Hadn’t saved Rod.

  He swore. Loud and badly. Stared up at the sky. ‘What do you think about this, then, buddy? Huh? What the hell am I supposed to do now? Quit soldiering? Move down under to a tourist town with a big lake and a small population? Be a father?’

  ‘Hey, watch out, mister,’ a young voice yelled.

  Marshall dropped his head, glared around. Hell, that had been close. ‘Sorry, kid, didn’t mean to do that,’ he called after the boy on a bike. A horn tooted from behind him and he nearly leapt out of his skin. He had to get a grip. Standing in the middle of the road, shouting up at the heavens, was going to get him killed. Or locked up.

  Waving an apology at the car’s irate driver, he stepped off the road onto the grass verge that led down to the lake edge. Sinking down on
his haunches, he studied the terrain. The choppy water didn’t stop kids leaping and diving into the chilly depths. Beyond them sailboats and motorboats sped back and forth. On the shoreline scantily clad people laughed and chattered under sun umbrellas as they tried to cool off. All very innocuous. Summer fun, family time.

  Two things he’d had next to none of, and then only with his grandparents. A rare wave of anger swept over him. He had missed out on things other kids took for granted. His parents had never taken him out for the day just to have fun. He sucked up the anger, swallowed it. Thought about Grampy and Granny. They’d had more than enough love to spare for the skinny kid who’d arrived on their doorstep every school break.

  They’d been his mentors, and yet he lived by his father’s role model. Always on the move, never stopping one place long enough to make friends or have a relationship that lasted longer than a couple of weeks. He’d met his only close friend in officer training camp and they’d been in the same unit ever since. Yeah, and look where that had gotten the guy. In a wooden box far too soon.

  The same thing could happen to him any time. Active duty meant danger and the very real danger didn’t take note of who was in the firing line. Rod had been one of the best and he’d still bought the big one.

  Shuddering, Marshall asked himself how he could be a good father for Aimee. He’d be in and out of her life, never stopping long enough to go to that sports day Charlie had mentioned. It would be better if he told Charlie right from the get-go that she should find a decent man and settle down to raise Aimee properly, lovingly, knowing from day to day, week to week, that he’d always be coming home. Because she sure wasn’t going to get that from him.

  *

  In the laundry directly off the kitchen Charlie mechanically folded clean washing and sorted it into piles. Where had Marshall charged off to? More importantly, was he coming back? Her heart slowed. That might’ve been the last time she’d ever see him. The only time Aimee saw her father, and unfortunately her wee girl had no idea who Marshall was to her.

  But Marshall took responsibility very seriously. She’d seen that first hand while working with him in Honolulu. It wasn’t something he switched on and off in different situations. It was as intrinsic to him as breathing. The only time she’d met his friend, Rod, in Honolulu he’d told her Marshall put looking out for his men before everything else, including his own safety.

  Marshall hadn’t said Aimee had nothing to do with him. When he’d declared, ‘Aimee’s mine,’ without a doubt in his voice, the world had stopped moving. Round one to Marshall. Except there were plenty more hurdles to come. None of them would be easy. They had a long way to go towards making this shared parenthood work. If he came back.

  He would. Her fingers reached for the tabletop, brushed the wooden surface lightly. Please.

  Dad walked into the kitchen. ‘Think it’s probably about time for a cold beer. Wouldn’t you agree, Marshall?’

  ‘Can’t say no to that,’ came the deep rumble of the voice she’d been straining to hear for the last hour.

  She sighed and dredged up a smile. This putting it out there seemed to work. Marshall had returned. Now the fireworks could start. Or maybe they wouldn’t. She’d try to give him the time and space to absorb the startling news he’d never expected to hear.

  ‘Hey.’ A shadow fell across her.

  Her tummy squeezed with longing when she looked up into the eyes that had been a part of her dreams for so long. Hunger flared for that fun they’d shared, for the uncomplicated nights when they’d explored each other’s bodies, the simple pleasure of walking hand in hand along the beach to watch the sunset. Even a need tugged at her for that professional camaraderie when Marshall had mentored the intern fresh from medical school. But none of that had a place in this situation. ‘Hey to you, too.’

  ‘Sorry I charged off. I went down to the lake while everything sank in.’ He looked genuinely contrite. ‘I hope you didn’t think I was running away.’

  She winced, went for the truth. ‘I hoped you hadn’t, but I did wonder if you’d disappeared from my life again.’ Even she heard the sadness in her voice. ‘It must’ve been a huge shock.’

  His forefinger traced her bottom lip. ‘One I hadn’t prepared for, that’s for sure. But I’m back and you have my undivided attention for the next day or two.’

  ‘I can go with that.’ More than she’d expected, less than she’d hoped for. She placed the neatly folded towel she’d been gripping against her chest on the pile in the basket and stood before Marshall, studying him. Butterflies spread their wings in her stomach, fluttering wildly as she noted the well-honed muscles of his upper arms.

  She’d missed him. Two weeks of wild passion and she’d spent the intervening years thinking and dreaming about him, wondering how he was, where he’d gone, who he might be with. And now he stood before her, looking superb in his casual attire.

  Leaning forward, she stretched up onto her toes and reached for his mouth with hers. When her lips touched his all those long months of yearning disappeared in a haze of heat. It was as though they’d never gone their separate ways, as if the intervening time had been a figment of her imagination. Her hands slid around his neck, pulled him closer so she could deepen her kiss and press her tongue to his mouth to slide it inside.

  And then Marshall was hauling her up against his hard body, his hands splayed across her back as he held her to him. His lips claimed her mouth with a hunger that surprised and shocked her. Marshall had missed her, too. His tongue danced around hers. Her body melted into his, trying to become one with him.

  She forgot everything except Marshall. His arms holding her, each one of his fingers pressing into her skin under her T-shirt like hot brands, his hard thighs that reached as high as her hips, that taut belly against her soft baby tummy. His hardening reaction to her.

  ‘I’ll take the beers outside to the veranda.’

  Her father’s quiet voice pierced her euphoria, returned her to normal quicker than anything else could’ve done. ‘Thanks, Dad,’ she managed to gasp.

  Surprise radiated out of Marshall’s eyes. ‘Sorry. I got carried away. What will Brendon think of me?’ Embarrassment coloured his cheeks as he let her gently down onto her feet then adjusted his jeans.

  ‘He’s pleased that you’ve made my day by turning up. He’ll give you some slack.’ Still reeling from the abrupt end to that electric kiss, Charlie raised a wobbly smile. She’d acted rashly, but Marshall did that to her.

  ‘Your father knew about me?’ His fingers rubbed at his eyelids.

  A bubble of laughter rolled up her throat. ‘It was only this morning Dad suggested I give up searching for a while, concentrate on—on other things. So I sort of agreed, and here you are. If I’d known you were going to turn up I’d have saved myself hours of trawling through web sites.’

  ‘So Brendon’s not going to send me on my way just yet?’

  Dad would never do that unless he thought Marshall was bad for her and Aimee. ‘Not a chance. Now, let’s go and be social with him and get that beer into you.’ Pulling the fridge door wide, she found some lemonade to fill a glass. After adding a squeeze of lemon juice, she led the way outside. ‘Come and sit in the shade for a bit. Dad will crank up the barbecue soon and we’ll cook you a Kiwi dinner.’

  *

  Marshall followed Charlie through the large villa, glancing into rooms they passed. The lounge room was enormous and tastefully decorated. The furniture was stylish yet comfortable. Everything appeared well maintained. Bet that took some doing in an old house like this one.

  Stepping onto the veranda, he took the bottle of beer Brendon held out to him. ‘Thanks.’ At least there was no animosity in the other man’s eyes. Certainly some curiosity. He supposed any father would want to check out the guy his daughter had taken a fancy to. God. How embarrassing to be caught necking only hours after catching up with Charlie.

  ‘Take the weight off your legs.’ Brendon indicated a chair.

/>   Even though he’d have preferred to stand, having spent hours squashed up in the plane and then behind the steering-wheel of the car he’d wrecked, he did as he was told. No point in getting any further offside with the guy than he might already be, despite those friendly eyes. Charlie pulled up another chair beside his and plonked her cute butt down, careful not to spill her drink. He asked, ‘You’re not drinking wine these days?’

  ‘Not since I found out I was pregnant.’ Her glance was distant, as though he’d touched on something important. Like what? It had seemed an innocuous question. But how would he know? There was so much to learn about Charlie. Now that there was a child in the picture he couldn’t walk away. So much for getting Charlie out of his system with a brief visit. If nothing else, Aimee had put paid to that theory. Fooling himself again. He wanted much more of Charlie, and Aimee.

  He dug for another, maybe safer topic to chat about. ‘This place is huge. You must rattle around inside. Or do you take in boarders?’

  ‘Not likely, despite having five bedrooms and two lounges.’ Charlie smiled over her glass, those aqua eyes bewitching him with their twinkle. ‘Plenty of space for when we’ve had enough of each other.’

  Brendon sat, stretched his legs out to the edge of the veranda. ‘It’s one of the original homesteads built more than ninety years ago. It belonged to Charlie’s mother’s family.’

  Charlie added, ‘Mum was born here. Then I was born here.’

  ‘And now Aimee.’ He looked around. Where was the little girl? His daughter. Holy Toledo. His daughter. His chest expanded with pride, even though he hadn’t had anything to do with Aimee up until now.

  ‘No.’ Charlie chuckled. He’d forgotten how often she’d do that and how it had warmed his heart each time. ‘Aimee was born down the road at the maternity hospital. I definitely didn’t want a home birth.’ She leaned forward and pointed under the trees. ‘She’s in the sandpit. Her favourite place at the moment. Long may that last.’

  ‘Keeps her occupied while you get things done?’

  ‘You’ve got it. I’m dreading the day she thinks tree-climbing is the best thing to do. There’s a hut in that tree by the fence that I used to spend hours in.’