The Deputy's Unexpected Family

by Patricia Johns

  She softened, then shrugged weakly. “I’ll pitch in.”

  “Thanks.” That did make it feel a bit easier. “So what time should I come over...six?”

  “Yes, that would be fine.” She opened her purse and rummaged through it, pulling out a piece of paper and a pen. She jotted something down and handed it over. “My phone number and address.”

  Gabe accepted the paper, tore a strip off the bottom, then plucked the pen from her soft fingers with a half smile. Her cheeks colored ever so slightly, and she dropped her gaze. He jotted down his own phone number and handed both the pen and the paper back to her.

  “That’s my cell phone number. Better than dropping in on me at work.”

  “Thank you.” The blush in her cheeks deepened.

  “Can I bring anything?” he asked.

  “No, no. I’ll have dinner sorted out,” she replied. Behind her, a whirl of wind picked up a scattering of leaves and spun them across the grass. His emotions did a similar tumble inside of his gut.

  “I want you to know that I love her, Gabe,” Harper went on. “My heart has already closed around her. Do you get that?”

  Was she afraid that if he got to know his daughter, he’d try to take her away? Harper was risking a lot by telling him about Zoey, and in that moment he could sense how much was on the line with doing the right thing. She was a better person than he was.

  “Look, Harper,” Gabe said slowly. “I’m not exactly great single-father material. I’m not interested in tearing Zoey out of her home. I just figure I should meet her. That’s all. No pressure.”

  Harper let out a silent sigh. “That’s good to hear. Thank you, Gabe.”

  A thought occurred to him—he’d need to bring Zoey something, a gift of some sort. Wasn’t that what guilty, absentee fathers did?

  “Harper, what sorts of things does a four-year-old girl like?” he asked suddenly.

  “Right now, she’s all about princesses.”

  “So typical girl stuff.” Maybe this wouldn’t be so hard after all. He’d just head to the pink aisle in Walmart.

  “No, not just girl stuff.” Harper’s tone sharpened. “Princesses, specifically. She was really upset that the tiaras were taken from my store. She loved trying them on. And the plastic ones don’t cut it. She’s experienced Swarovski crystals, and there is no going back.”

  “Ah.”

  “And she likes tools—hammers, drills, you name it.”

  “Seriously?” He squinted at her, unsure if she was joking.

  “She’s a whole little person, Gabe. You have a lot to catch up on.”

  Apparently so. He’d asked for her help, and she was providing it. “Tools. Tiaras. Got it.”

  “Okay.” She rose to her feet and dug her keys out of her pocket. “See you tomorrow.”

  Harper didn’t wait for his farewell, and she headed across the grass toward the parking lot through a drift of crunching leaves. He tore his eyes away from her, trying to quell that strange, rising warmth inside of him when he looked at her.

  He needed to stick to the task at hand: finding his daughter a present that she’d like. Tomorrow was Sunday, and while he had no intention of attending church here in Comfort Creek, he wasn’t exactly free, either. There was a store to watch, just in case the crooks came back to take advantage of the town’s day of rest.

  He couldn’t show up tomorrow night empty-handed. But what was supposed to make up for a lifetime of silence? And just how resentful would that little girl be?

  Gabe looked down at the faint scribbles on the page. What had she said she’d drawn? He couldn’t remember now. He hadn’t been paying attention. She’d just been Andrea’s kid...and now she was so much scarier—she was a little girl with every right to hate him.

  Gabe looked back toward Harper’s car as the engine revved to life. Her car pulled away from the curb, and he watched the taillights disappear around the corner at the stop sign. The chill of the autumn evening tugged him out of his thoughts and he headed back into the station. His life would never be the same again—he could already feel it. And Harper made all of this harder still. If only Zoey’s new mom could be a woman he felt nothing for. That would make it easier. When he let her down, he wouldn’t feel like such a failure.

  Zoey had a mom to love her—Gabe had never had that luxury. His mom had dumped him on his grandmother’s doorstep and come by to see him once every couple of years. She’d bring an age-inappropriate birthday gift and drink a beer while staring at him dismally. Gabe was her greatest regret—she’d told him that one year, and then hadn’t explained the statement. Just let it hang there. Then she’d driven off again and disappeared until his high school graduation when she showed up with some stringy-haired boyfriend and a bottle of tequila that was supposed to be his grad gift. Still age-inappropriate. He’d only been eighteen.

  “You turned out good,” she’d said with an overflow of mascara-running emotion. “You’re a grown man now. Look at you! I can’t believe I’m your mama!”

  But she wasn’t his “mama.” She was his biological mother. He’d never had a “mama” in his life. Zoey had that kind of love—Harper, who knew the things she liked, the things she didn’t... Who stood up for her, fought for her. That was a mother.

  Mom’s boyfriend drank the bottle of tequila after Gabe’s graduation was complete, which was just as well, looking back on it. The last thing Gabe had needed was alcohol in the mix.

  After that last visit at his graduation, Grandma hadn’t bothered getting nasty. Instead, she’d sat him down and said, “Gabriel, my job is done. I think you’ll agree that I’ve done my due diligence with you. Time to get a full-time job and your own place. You have one month, and then I want you out. This is for your own good.” Then she’d added after a moment of awkward silence, “I’ve prayed on it.”

  At the time, he’d found that ironic, but those words still stewed in a raw, angry part of his heart. Maybe she did pray, but he doubted that her prayers went any further than the ceiling. If she’d connected to God, Gabe figured he’d see some of that Christian love the preacher went on and on about in church every Sunday. There was a story that Jesus told about how some people would say, “Lord, Lord,” and God would reply, “I never knew you.” Wasn’t that the parable? Gabe might have been messed up and angry, but he knew his Bible well enough to use it as a weapon when he argued with his grandmother. If Grandma had ever truly known God, that would be a surprise to him.

  Was Gabe supposed to write down that memory, too? He touched the notebook in his breast pocket. He was too tired to play along with the chief’s training right now. He heaved a sigh and headed for the station.

  As Gabe came inside, he saw Bryce at the coffeepot, arms crossed over his chest as he watched it drip.

  “Hey, man,” Gabe said. “Where do you buy toys in this town?”

  “Toys?” Bryce frowned. “Why?” Then a smile spread over his face. “Harper Kemp—you’re not trying to soften her up, are you?”

  “No.” Gabe’s first instinct was to keep his personal business private, but how long would this paternity stay a secret anyway? “Look, it’s still pretty delicate,” Gabe confessed. “This has nothing to do with Harper...directly, at least. I found out today that I’m the father of Andrea Murphy’s daughter.”

  Bryce stared at him for a moment. “Wait...what?”

  “Yeah, that was my first response, too,” Gabe replied wryly. “But I need to bring her something tomorrow night. Harper is going to tell her who I am, and I’m going over there for dinner.”

  If he arrived empty-handed, he’d just be the joker who’d never been around. If he came with the right gift, maybe he could distract the kid from the disappointment of who he was.

  “Okay...” Bryce eyed Gabe uncertainly. “Everything’s closed Sunday. Here in town, at least. I mean, I guess you could drive to Fort Colli
ns for the Walmart.”

  “I thought of that, but I can’t go to Fort Collins,” Gabe replied. “It’s a day off of sensitivity training, but I’m keeping an eye on Harper’s store in case the thieves return.”

  “I don’t know if it’s the kind of toy a little girl would like, but I picked up a pair of toy handcuffs the other week for my nephew, but then I didn’t see him—if you want them,” Bryce offered.

  “Yeah, thanks. That would help.”

  Handcuffs. Hey, if the kid liked hammers, maybe she’d see the allure of a set of cuffs, too.

  “No problem.” The coffeepot stopped burbling, and Bryce poured himself a mug. He lifted the pot in a silent offer and Gabe nodded.

  “Sure, I’ll take a cup.” Gabe sighed. “I honestly had no idea I’d fathered that little girl, and I have no idea what I’m doing. I’m not the dad type, poor kid.”

  “You’ll figure it out.” Bryce filled another mug and passed it to Gabe. “I didn’t think I was ready to be a dad, either. But you settle in more easily than you think.”

  Gabe nodded slowly. “I hope so.”

  “You want to know the secret?” Bryce asked, crossing his arms over his chest. “You fall in love with them, and that’s the clincher. You realize that you’d do anything for them, just to make sure they have the best life possible. That’s a dad’s job, isn’t it—provide the best?”

  And maybe he would settle in, except Gabe hadn’t felt anything at all when he met his daughter the first time. Granted, he hadn’t known she was his, but still...he should have felt something, shouldn’t he? This ridiculously quiet town had just turned into a whole lot more than some book work about feelings and how to respond appropriately. It was now a whole lot worse...

  He’d never been good enough for a woman like Harper. What made anyone think he had anything to offer his daughter?

  Chapter Five

  “You told him?” Jane Murphy gasped.

  Harper stood in the Murphys’ kitchen, her arms crossed protectively over her chest. Jane Murphy stared at Harper, her lipsticked lips parted in an expression of dismay. Her elegant gray hair was tucked behind her ears, and she wore a gray cardigan that perfectly matched her tresses, but the expression of pure shock on her face left Harper’s mouth dry. This was the exact response she’d been worried about.

  “I had to,” Harper said. “He’s Zoey’s father. He needed to know about her.”

  Mike Murphy sat at the kitchen table, and he stared down at a coffee mug so hard that Harper half expected it to crack under his glare. He didn’t look up, and instead chewed the side of his cheek. Out in the living room, Zoey was asleep on the couch. Still, they were all trying to keep their voices down.

  “You know how he treated Andrea!” Jane turned her back and stalked to the fridge, then turned back. “He crushed her. You know better than anyone! She loved that man, and she was never enough for him.”

  “I know,” Harper said quickly. “And while we love Andrea still, this is about Zoey and what she needs.”

  “You think he’ll do better by his daughter than he did by ours?” Mike said, speaking for the first time. He raised his driving gaze up to meet Harper’s.

  “At the moment, Zoey doesn’t have a dad in her life,” Harper replied. “Or a living mother. She has me, grandparents who adore her, and she has some extended family. So far, she’s too young to take much notice. She’s still grieving for her mom. But one of these days, she’s going to start asking questions about her father. This isn’t avoidable.”

  “She could choose if she wanted to contact him herself,” Mike retorted. “When she’s older.”

  “After denying her a father for all those years?” Harper couldn’t back down on this one. “I had my dad growing up, and he and I are really close. A father-daughter relationship is important to a girl. You should know—Andrea had you, and you were her strength when life kicked her down. You were there for her every step of her childhood, and when she got pregnant, she knew where to turn.”

  “Because I was man enough!” Mike snapped. “A real man sticks with it. He commits. This Gabe twit—”

  “I don’t know what kind of father Gabe will make,” Harper said quickly. “I’m not guaranteeing anything with this man. But she at least needs to know him. Even if just to take away the mystery. Do we want her to grow up imagining some knight on a white horse? She’ll hate us for keeping him away. It might be better to let her see the reality of her father for herself.”

  “And if he breaks Zoey’s heart, too?” Mike asked.

  “Then she’ll have all of us to help her to make sense of it,” Harper replied. “Besides, I’ll be there—supervising everything. If I think it isn’t healthy for Zoey, I’ll put a stop to it.”

  “What did he say?” Jane asked, her voice trembling. “When you told him he was a father, what did he say? Exactly.”

  “Well, he was shocked.”

  “What did he say?” Jane pressed.

  “Well, he left the store to go think it over,” Harper replied slowly. “And I went down to the station to talk to him—”

  “So he didn’t call you. You had to go find him,” Mike clarified. “He ran off.”

  This wasn’t looking good for Gabe and Harper shrugged weakly. “He said that he wants to know her.”

  “Does that mean he wants custody?” Jane’s voice was tight. “He could decide that he wants to raise Zoey himself. You realize that, don’t you? He’s her biological dad, and with Andrea gone, he’s her only living parent.”

  “No. He was clear about that. He’s not going to try to take her away from us. He just...really at this point, he just wants to meet her.”

  “Isn’t he in town under disciplinary action?” Mike asked.

  “Yes, he is.” Harper nodded. “Sensitivity training, like the rest of them.”

  “And this is the father you want in her life?” he asked dejectedly.

  “It isn’t about my choice,” Harper replied, irritation starting to simmer. “He’s her father! What can I say? The time for lectures about Gabe’s worthiness is past!”

  Jane nodded and heaved a sigh. “You have a point there, Harper.”

  “Does she?” Mike retorted.

  “Zoey is four right now,” Jane replied. “What happens if she finds out about her father when she’s fourteen? She’d be angry, confused, betrayed. She could run away! At least if Zoey meets her father now—even if he’s not terribly reliable—it won’t be a shock later on. We can help her deal with the reality of her father as she grows. It’s better than dumping it on her all at once. Zoey is a lot like her mom.”

  Mike nodded slowly and turned toward Harper again. “Fine. So when is he set to meet her?”

  “Tomorrow evening,” Harper replied. “At my place. We’ll have dinner, and...I suppose I’ll make the introductions.”

  Jane and Mike exchanged a long look. Harper had disappointed them, and she hated that. They’d been in this together from the start. And when Harper found out that she had custody of her goddaughter, she’d relied on the Murphys’ reassurance that she was the right choice. Tonight, she’d let them down.

  “You know how much I love Zoey,” Harper said earnestly. “I’m going to protect her. You know that.”

  “There are some things you can’t protect your child from,” Jane said, her chin quivering. “We learned that the hard way.”

  Was Gabe Banks one of those disasters? Harper sent up a prayer of wordless panic. She could only trust that honesty was still the best policy, even when it came to a precious little girl she could no longer live without.

  “Andrea knew where to come when she needed support,” Mike said gruffly. “And so do you. I know your dad isn’t feeling too well lately, so if you need help dealing with Gabe, you come tell me. I’ll set him straight.”

  Harper smiled mistily. “Thank
s, Mike.”

  Mike Murphy was a dad through and through, and the death of his daughter hadn’t changed that protective instinct inside of him. He was a stalwart grandfather and like a second dad to Harper half the time. She’d keep his offer in mind.

  “I’d better get Zoey home,” Harper said, glancing at her watch.

  “When will you tell her about her father?” Jane asked softly.

  “Before Gabe arrives,” Harper replied. “That way she can understand who he is.”

  Jane leaned over and gave Harper a squeeze. “You call Mike if you need him.”

  Harper chuckled. “I’ve got Gabe in hand. No worries there.”

  And she wished she felt as confident as she sounded. Harper went into the living room and scooped the little girl up into her arms. Zoey woke up enough to get into a more comfortable position before her eyes drooped shut again.

  “Night-night, sweetie,” Jane said, pressing a kiss against the girl’s forehead. Then Jane met Harper’s gaze. “Be careful.”

  Harper didn’t know how deep that warning ran, but she took it to heart. Gabe was a risk—both to their easy balance here in Comfort Creek, and to her own emotional stability if she allowed herself to soften to him too much. Because Harper always had understood why her friend had fallen for this bad boy so hard. Gabe was disarmingly charming, broken—and what woman didn’t like the challenge of being a man’s saving grace? But a woman couldn’t do God’s job in a man’s heart—better women than her had tried it.

  For Zoey’s sake, Harper needed to keep her head on her shoulders.

  * * *

  That Sunday, Gabe almost attended church. He put on a pair of khaki pants and even went so far as to iron a button-down shirt, and then he stared at the iron for a good while, unplugged it, and put his clothes away again. He couldn’t do it.

  Gabe went to church every Sunday back in Fort Collins, but Fort Collins was different. That was the home he’d made for himself as a grown man, away from all the jagged memories that Comfort Creek held for him. But Hand of Comfort Christian Church simmered old resentments. The thought of walking back into that church made his teeth clench. They could remember his grandmother any way they liked—he knew the truth about her. But he was no longer a lost kid, acting out. He was now a grown man, a police officer and a father...that last one still felt surreal. But that didn’t mean he had it in him to sit in that church, rehashing those helpless feelings.