Deputy Daddy

by Patricia Johns

  “How so?”

  Here it was—the inevitable conversation that ended whatever it was that ever started with a woman. Kelly had held out after this conversation, but she’d been wrong to do that. He’d told her the truth, and no amount of wishing or hoping could change it. He’d rather let a woman down earlier than later, when there was less to lose. And while he knew that nothing had started with Lily, he still found himself wary in a way he probably didn’t have a right to.

  “I’m a nice guy,” he said. “I’m a good guy. I believe in telling the truth and making the world a safer place for those kids. But I’m not much of a dad.”

  “If you don’t have kids, you aren’t a dad at all,” she said, frowning slightly. “I think that’s the sort of role you grow into.”

  Some men didn’t grow into the role. His father certainly hadn’t, and apparently his grandfather hadn’t been much better—the Camden men with their dark hair and blue eyes, and superhuman ability to disappoint.

  “Maybe with most guys,” he agreed, “but I’m not most guys. And I’ve got a pretty good idea of how I’d turn out in the end because I’m exactly like my dad.”

  Everyone said it. From teachers to extended family, everyone commented on how much he was like his father. He looked like his dad, he walked like his dad, he even had his father’s sense of humor. In fact, he’d probably have gotten along with his father pretty well in adulthood if the man had stuck around and actually parented, but he hadn’t, and that was something else he shared with his father: some kids liked him, but he didn’t feel comfortable around them. Kids were complicated little creatures, and he didn’t know how to give them the things they needed. He was better off sticking to his strengths and letting someone else nurture the next generation.

  “You said he left when you were young,” Lily said.

  He sighed. She wasn’t letting this go, apparently. If she wanted to talk, he didn’t mind. Besides, this was one less thing he’d have to write in that notebook.

  “Yeah. I did see him from time to time, and one night after I got myself into some trouble, my dad did some actual parenting and sat me down for a talk.” He could still see his father in his mind’s eye. He’d been tall and good-looking—wearing a sports jersey and jeans—and Bryce had been filled with conflicted emotions at the sight of him. Part of him resented his dad for every single disappointment in his childhood, and another part of him missed him so much it hurt.

  “We didn’t see each other often, and so I figured I’d get some answers while I could,” he went on. “I asked why he left, why he didn’t want anything to do with me anymore, and he said that he just didn’t know how to do the family thing. He said he knew what it looked like, and he knew how to act the part, but a guy could only fake it for so long.”

  Like a ticking time bomb for heartbreak. So far, Lily hadn’t treated him like something about to go off, but maybe she’d be wise to consider it. The fact that his father had feigned being a father to his son had been a painful realization. Bryce had craved more from his dad, hoped for some untapped well of relationship. There hadn’t been one.

  “That’s awful.” Lily looked over at him in sympathy. “Really awful. Boys need their dads.”

  Her warmth helped, somehow. At least she understood the pain. This wasn’t something he talked about often, and maybe it was the transitory nature of this relationship that made him feel more comfortable opening up to her. They were silent for a moment, and Lily seemed to be mulling over the things he’d just said. Finally, she shot him a quizzical look.

  “What was he talking about, pretending?” she asked. “That sounds like a cop-out to me.”

  Bryce chuckled. He liked her—she didn’t accept halfway answers, even on his behalf. How to explain it all...

  “My dad just wasn’t cut out for fatherhood,” he said. “I made my peace with that. And he did love me—he still does, for that matter.” His father had called the chief on his behalf, after all. If that wasn’t love, he didn’t know what was. “But he couldn’t give me the relationship I needed. I think there are an awful lot of men out there like that. They mean well, and they do try to be better than they are, but at the end of the day, they’re lousy fathers. They say you should fake it till you make it...but what if you never make it?”

  He couldn’t imagine looking into his own son’s face and seeing that disappointment. Whenever he dealt with kids out in the field, he passed them off to another officer as quickly as possible. He used to try, but he’d never seemed to connect with them like the other officers could. They always needed something that he didn’t know how to provide—comfort, reassurance, answers—and he’d stopped fighting that. They needed someone who wouldn’t be muddling through. Those kids deserved better than he could give.

  “It doesn’t mean you have to end up like him,” Lily countered.

  “I already am.”

  He cleared his throat and looked out the window. There was no un-ringing that bell—he was a Camden man, and some things came as part of that genetic package.

  “So you don’t want kids.” Her tone had changed slightly, and when he looked over at her, her gaze was riveted to the road. They were nearing town now, and she slowed down and signaled a turn.

  “No,” he admitted quietly. “I don’t.”

  But that didn’t mean that he’d lost hope in his future. Maybe he’d never be a father, and maybe that meant he wouldn’t be a husband, either, but he knew for sure that God was leading in his life.

  But seeing Lily with the baby, her life here in Comfort Creek and the depth of possibility in those clear blue eyes of hers...it made his reality a little harder to bear.

  * * *

  A few minutes later, Lily turned into the gravel drive that led up to her house. The windows were dark, but a porch light glowed warm and soft, illuminating two rocking chairs and the circular table between them. It was a perfect spot to sit on a summer night—something she’d put thought into. This was for her guests, a relaxing place to enjoy a piece of pie and some iced tea, and on the rare evenings—at least she hoped they’d be rare—that she didn’t have guests, she’d make use of it herself. Now it looked lonely, somehow.

  Her porch. Her house. Her guests. It still felt crazy and exciting to be thinking in terms of ownership. Getting here had been a gift from above, and she’d never lost her gratefulness.

  It feels like home.

  She’d loved this house for as long as she could remember. For years, it was owned by a quiet old couple. When they passed away and the house was up for sale, Lily bought it. This house was perfect—and yet she still felt a little ache of something missing. She’d fought so long and hard to get something of her own, prayed endlessly for just one chance to make something of herself, that now that she was finally here it felt wrong to admit that it wasn’t enough. God had blessed her with so much, but there was still a part of her heart that longed for one more blessing to make this home perfect—a family to share it with. Guests would fill the house with life, but a family would make it a home.

  An image of her brothers shot into her mind. Lily had family—all sorts of it—clambering around the edges and pushing to get in. So family in the broader sense wasn’t her answer, either.

  Lily parked the car and turned around to look at Emily, now fast asleep again.

  “You know, I wasn’t sure I wanted kids, either,” she said after a moment. “I got my fill of wrangling youngsters with my brothers, so when I imagined the life I wanted, I never included kids in the fantasy.”

  She couldn’t really blame Bryce for his choice. Like he said, there were probably a good number of men who should have made a similar decision. She pulled a hand through her hair, tugging it away from her forehead.

  “Are you saying you’d be happy without kids?” Bryce’s tone was cautious, and when she looked over at him, he met he
r gaze. Was he asking this for personal reasons? If he’d asked her a couple of years ago, she might have said yes, but that answer would have been both premature and naive.

  “No.” She shrugged. “I always knew I wanted some time to myself, a chance to chase my own dreams and start my own life, so kids weren’t part of those daydreams, but I don’t think I ever imagined I wouldn’t have children ever. I do want kids, I just hadn’t thought of having them this early. Does that make sense?”

  Bryce nodded. “Yeah.”

  And then there was little Emily...a baby she knew she couldn’t keep, but who had awoken something inside her that she hadn’t expected to feel.

  “It’s always been a bit of a problem for me,” Bryce said, and she heard a note of regret in his voice that caught at her heart. “It’s a deal breaker for women. Most women, at least. The ones I end up being attracted to.”

  Did that include her? She quickly pushed the thought back. It shouldn’t matter, but somehow it did.

  “I almost got married two years ago,” he went on quietly.

  “What happened?” she asked.

  “I didn’t want kids.” He looked over at her and met her gaze. “I think she thought she’d change my mind, and I’d been dumb enough to think that maybe I’d be enough for her.”

  “But you weren’t.”

  “No, I wasn’t.” He pulled in a deep breath, then sighed. “But that’s reality. That’s life. I can’t ask a woman to give up on having children, grandchildren, all of that.”

  Bryce had fallen in love with someone, and Lily found herself a little envious of that woman. She’d been able to look into his face and see that depth of feeling... If things were different, she might have been tempted, too.

  “Where is she now?” Lily asked.

  “We lost touch. It was a mutual breakup. We both cared for each other, but it obviously wasn’t going to work.”

  She could sense deeper heartbreak beneath the words, but he didn’t look willing to go further.

  “She broke your heart,” Lily said.

  Bryce smiled sadly. “Yeah, she did. So what about you? Who broke yours?”

  She was surprised at that question, because she’d never hinted that she harbored any heartbreak.

  “What makes you think anyone did?” she asked.

  “I’m a cop,” he said. “I know how to read people, and you’re too cautious to have gotten away unscathed.”

  He was right, of course, and she hadn’t thought about Austin for quite some time.

  “All right. His name was Austin, and he was my high school boyfriend. He left for college, and he swore that we’d survive the long-distance relationship.”

  And she’d believed him when he said that she was the only one he could possibly love. It seemed so naive now.

  “Let me guess.” A smile flickered at the corners of his lips. “You had plans to go see him, or he had plans to come see you, and instead, you got an email saying that he’d met someone else and maybe you shouldn’t meet up after all.”

  “A phone call, actually,” she said. “But yes. How did you know?”

  “Tale as old as time.” His expression softened. “If it counts for anything, he was an idiot to have left you to begin with.”

  She smiled and looked back out the window toward the house. Maybe he hadn’t been such an idiot after all. Austin wouldn’t have wanted to do this, and he wouldn’t have fit into her dreams, either. He wanted city and bustle, and she wanted Comfort Creek. This town was where her family was, where her heart was. She had no desire to go to the big city, and Austin had no desire to stay put. There was no middle ground, and if there was one thing she’d learned from that experience it was to keep her feet planted. Some people had the luxury of having their heads in the clouds, but she didn’t. If she was going to make anything of her life, she’d have to stay realistic.

  “I think that God had a hand in it,” she said after a moment. “Austin married that someone else, after all.”

  “Ouch.” Bryce winced. “Sorry.”

  “No, it’s fine,” she said with a shake of her head. “I mean, it was a blow to my ego, but I’m not so self-centered that I think that God can’t be working out someone else’s love story, too. Austin and I wanted different things. If we’d stubbornly stuck together in spite of that, it wouldn’t have been a happily-ever-after.”

  Bryce nodded. “I could see that.”

  “Besides—” She nodded toward the house. “This is what I want.”

  She wished she felt as confident as she sounded. She did want this bed-and-breakfast, but there was still that nagging feeling that something was missing. From the backseat, Emily made some sucking sounds on her pacifier, and Lily wished that her heart didn’t swell every time she heard those soft noises from the infant.

  “I’d better get inside,” Lily said. “Thank you for coming tonight. I appreciate it.”

  “No problem.” His voice was a quiet rumble.

  She glanced over to where he sat, and those blue eyes were fixed on her. He was a good-looking man, and being in these close quarters only served to remind her how handsome he was, and that wasn’t helping matters right now.

  She turned away to open the door when his voice stopped her.

  “But would you have married him?”

  “Austin?” she asked with a frown.

  “Yeah. I mean, he broke your heart and moved on, but if he hadn’t—if he’d stayed faithful—would you have married him?”

  It hardly seemed like a fair question, since she’d never had the chance to choose. But if he’d been faithful to her and returned her love... She could see now that marrying him would have meant compromising on everything that mattered most to her, but she wouldn’t have seen that before.

  “Probably,” she said with a sigh.

  And she’d have stayed married, too, because she was a woman who believed in those vows. Would a loving husband and a couple of kids of her own have been enough? Would she have been satisfied making a home in Denver with Austin?

  She’d miss out on all of her brothers’ antics, all of their trouble, all of the stress that came with those four boys, and she’d be too far away to do anything for them. Somehow, she just couldn’t erase her brothers from the equation, either.

  She got out of the car, then got the baby from the backseat. When she straightened again, she caught Bryce watching her.

  “You really would have married him when it came right down to it?” Bryce asked.

  Why did that seem to matter to him so much? “Wouldn’t you have married your girlfriend?”

  “And then spent the next decade fighting over whether or not to have kids,” he quipped.

  “Well, we’re older now,” she said. “Hopefully a little wiser, too.”

  They walked together toward the front door, and Lily pulled out her keys. They stood shoulder to shoulder, and she felt her heart swelling again in spite of herself. Feeling anything for Bryce was a bad idea...

  “Let me give you a hand,” he said, and his warm fingers brushed hers as he took the car seat from her grasp.

  “Thanks, I—” She turned toward him, and found his face hovering just above hers. They were still, standing there on the porch, Bryce’s biceps flexed under the weight of the car seat. He didn’t move, though, and when his glittering eyes met hers, she felt her breath catch in her throat. She dragged her gaze down and turned back to the key in the lock.

  This all felt a little too domestic for her comfort. It was too cozy, and she was liking it too much. Bryce was warm, gentle, open... And this was a new experience for her, to have a tiny baby in her care and a strong man beside her, lending a hand and sparking feelings inside her that didn’t belong there. She was used to shouldering things alone, and she’d best remember it, because her life wasn
’t about to get any easier. He was her temporary guest, and if he was the reason her brothers ended up with criminal records before she could straighten them out, she wasn’t sure she’d forgive herself.

  “If you’re interested in a snack before bed, I have banana bread in the fridge,” Lily said as she turned the key in the lock and pushed open the front door. “I also have skim milk and whole milk to wash it down. If you like two percent—” she flipped on the light in the hallway “—I guess you’ll just have to mix them.”

  Lily locked the door behind them with a click and stepped away from him. “Thanks,” Bryce said, and she didn’t miss the quizzical look he cast her. He didn’t understand her sudden professional rigidity, she could tell, but he’d just have to live with a little mystery, because she wasn’t going to explain. He might not have felt anything out there, but she had. She took the car seat back.

  “Clean towels are on the counter in the bathroom, and breakfast will ready at seven thirty. Unless you’d like to get to the station earlier, in which case I can be flexible.”

  “Lily.” His tone hadn’t changed from earlier, still low and warm. “Are you okay?”

  “Professional boundaries,” she said. “I’m giving them another try.”

  “Okay.” He nodded, and an amused smile flickered across his face. “Well then, thank you for a lovely evening, and I won’t be late for breakfast.”

  What she needed to do was to get back to her cottage and have some silence and solitude, and hopefully get her emotions back into order.

  “Good night,” she said, and she turned her steps toward the back door. She looked down at the sleeping face of little Emily, and sent up a prayer:

  Lord, help me to guard my heart.

  Chapter Six

  Comfort Creek felt lonelier without Lily’s friendliness in it. He did his patrol, dealing with a neighborly dispute over lawn fertilizer—one neighbor used it, the other neighbor didn’t want “poison” to waft onto her organic vegetables.