The Third Daughter's Wish

by Kaitlyn Rice

  “Josie.” He said one word only, but much more with his tone. Depending on the moment, that tone could bring her to her senses or make her mad.

  Josie wriggled farther into the booth and pressed her back against the wall so she could see his expressions. “Why are you discouraging me from searching for my father, Gabe?”

  He cocked his head, as if thinking about it. “Well, your purpose for finding him was to learn about Lilly’s genetic background.” He lifted his shoulders. “You did that when you spoke to Rick. Callie is investigating biochemical causes for the seizures, right? She and Ethan are meeting with this new neurologist?”

  “Right.”

  “So why continue? Why open your life to pain? Your mother warned you.”

  “I need questions answered for myself, too. Partly because of mother’s warnings. I wonder what she was hiding.”

  Gabe’s jaw worked, but he didn’t say anything. Both of them scanned the bar, where nothing had changed. Old Earl kept watching Leno. The pool players kept playing.

  Mary’s appeared to be running itself.

  “Maybe this is as good a time as any to talk about something else,” Gabe said. “Have you thought about the other change in your life?”

  Oh, God. He’d bring that up now? “Change?” she asked.

  “Us.”

  Josie studied his fingers, folded together on the table in front of them. Those hands that had grabbed her butt a few short minutes ago.

  Her yearning for him had been so violent. She’d felt his arousal, and she’d ached to drag him into her bedroom and take him on.

  To feel his body inside hers. To touch him. To taste him. To reach for that sweet release, with him.

  With Gabe. Her best friend. Her brick.

  No, she hadn’t let herself think about it. Not really.

  And she couldn’t now. Not now, when she felt such a frantic need to find this man who could be her father.

  “Gabe, get on your side.”

  “What?”

  She stuck her elbow in his ribs. “Move to the other side of the booth. You’re making me claustrophobic and I can’t see your reactions.”

  He hesitated for a second, then slipped out and back in across from her. Where he’d sat dozens of times, probably in this same booth. The expression on his face had sure changed, though. He looked…upset? Sad?

  “Too much is happening at once,” she explained. “I don’t know what I think about anything.”

  Just that she couldn’t lose Gabe, and that starting meant they were on their way to finishing.

  Gabe opened his mouth at the same time that the sound system came on—loud. An old Jimmy Buffett song blared into the room. Gabe closed his mouth and scowled toward the bar, and Josie decided she could go for a margarita about now.

  Hey! She hadn’t noticed till this moment, but the music hadn’t been playing in Mary’s before. Then she realized that the bartender, a busty brunette Josie recognized, had reappeared near the deejay station. The woman examined the stereo system, scratched her temple and then fiddled with some dial. The volume of the music lessened, then the bartender strode across the space and bustled past the bar’s swing door. She shook her head as she made some comment to the Leno fan.

  Josie caught Gabe’s gaze for a moment before dropping hers. “The music’s my cue, bud.” She noted that he didn’t smile at her joke, then left the booth.

  Gabe could follow if he wished.

  IN THE FEW SECONDS it took Gabe to get his bearings and approach the bar, Josie had already asked her question.

  “I must know a ton of guys named Joe,” the bartender said. “Probably seventy-percent are dark-haired and short. My sixteen-year-old grandson’s the only one who comes to mind at this moment.”

  “My Joe would have already been an adult twenty-seven years ago,” Josie said. “Is there anyone connected to Mary’s who might recall something from that far back?”

  “The owner had Mary’s for three years, and he moved here from Des Moines.” The barkeep eyed Josie. “I never met the old owners. I can’t help you, sweetie, but good luck.”

  Josie shrugged at Gabe. “Guess I’ll drive you home now.”

  “Sorry, kid.”

  They headed for the door.

  “You asked about a customer before,” said the old guy who’d been sitting at the bar.

  Josie spun around. “What’d you say, Earl?”

  “Coulda been Handsome Joe,” the man said.

  Josie returned to stand next to him. “Handsome Joe?”

  “Yep.” Earl slurped his drink. “Smallish fella. Tended bar here for a while.”

  “This Handsome Joe worked here?” Josie asked, her hazel eyes gigantic as she claimed the stool next to Earl.

  Earl nodded. “He could mix up a good martini.”

  “Was this Handsome Joe a handyman?”

  “Don’t know ’bout that.” Earl studied her out of the corners of his eyes. “Don’t know much, in fact. You’re not looking for money, are you?”

  “Oh, no.” Josie leaned her head nearer to Earl’s and murmured, “This man could be my…uh. Well, he could be a relative. I want to talk to him, that’s all.”

  Earl’s shaggy brows lowered. “Could be the man had reason to stay away from the family. Ever think of that?”

  Although Gabe had cautioned the same thing, he didn’t like seeing the stab of pain in Josie’s eyes.

  But she acted okay. “I have,” she said. “And I’m aware that this Joe might not even be the right one. But he could be. I need to find out.”

  The television momentarily snagging his attention, Earl picked up his glass and sipped noisily. Then he turned enough to eye Gabe behind him and Josie. “Short man. Black hair. Made a decent martini. That’s all I know.”

  “Thanks so much. You did a good thing tonight.” Josie swung off the bar stool and turned to give Gabe one of her “ready-to-go” faces.

  Halfway to the door, however, Gabe glanced back at the clock.

  Earl had swiveled clear around on the bar stool and was staring at Gabe.

  He had more to say. Gabe just knew it.

  Josie had grabbed her coat and disappeared outside. He wondered if she’d race off, only remembering later that he’d been with her. He could catch up to her, telling her to hold up. That Earl had something else to say.

  The old man’s stare summoned.

  Gabe returned the stool Josie had just vacated. “You know something else, don’t you?”

  Earl sipped his drink and acted bored.

  “If you do, say it. If not, I’m gone.”

  “Wasn’t sure at first,” the man rasped, “but after taking another gander at your girlfriend there, I am. Joe was the son of a couple who owned the hotel back in those days. Word was the family didn’t have much to do with him. I figured everyone knew that. Everyone knows the Henshaws.”

  Earl squinted at Gabe, as if to make his meaning clear.

  He figured Gabe knew that.

  Joe Henshaw.

  Oh, hell.

  Now Gabe understood why his mother had been careful to avoid names. It made sense. His mom had a long time connection with the Henshaw family.

  Alana Morgan had been Alana Henshaw before her divorce. She was Gabe’s mother’s friend, and she must be Joe’s mother.

  She could be Josie’s grandmother.

  Her son, whom Gabe remembered now as a Joe, had been estranged from the family for years. He’d been an alcoholic. He hadn’t kept jobs. If the stories were true, he’d gotten messed up on drugs.

  No wonder Gabe’s mother had omitted details. She saw Alana regularly. They belonged to a few of the same clubs.

  Alana had remarried several years ago, and she’d since been widowed. She never talked much about her youngest son. She talked about her daughter and her other son, both successful people who’d married and moved away.

  Joe could still be living in Augusta.

  He could become a real problem for Josie. He might as
k her for booze or drug money. Or steal it. He might make Josie feel worse about her genetic makeup than she already did. How many times had Josie told Gabe she’d never marry because she feared that she’d inherit her mother’s emotional problems?

  Now she would learn that her father was the low-life bum her mother had described.

  Damn it.

  Gabe wished he could go outside and get into Josie’s truck, refusing to tell her about this. If no one told her that Handsome Joe’s last name was Henshaw, she might eventually abandon her search and settle into her life.

  And if she discovered that Gabe knew the name, knew the blasted family…

  She’d learned plenty on her own. If she kept asking around, she was bound to find her father. Gabe’s only recourse was to help her and then be an ear for her.

  Moments later, Gabe found Josie shivering in her truck, even though she’d started it and had the heater cranked all the way up. “Haven’t you had your heater checked yet?” Gabe asked as he slid into the passenger seat.

  “No.”

  The thing was blowing freezing air. “Why not?”

  “Hello? I haven’t had time?”

  She usually wasn’t so snippy. This search was taking its toll. “Make time,” he said, but he doubted that she’d heard him because she was tearing out of the lot. He raised his voice. “Fix the heater, kid.”

  She laughed. “Tell me when, Gabe. I’ve had family at the house, and now I’m playing catch-up at work.”

  Gabe braced himself as she turned out onto Ohio Street and headed north, toward his house. He remembered the seat belt, buckled himself in and said, “Better watch for cops. They patrol near Mary’s at this time of night.”

  “What took you so long in there, anyway?”

  Although Gabe had decided he wouldn’t avoid this confession, he’d hoped he could wait until they were inside one of their nicely heated houses.

  “I thought you were right behind me,” she continued. “But when I got outside, no Gabe! Did you decide to wait until I had the truck warmed up?”

  He winced when she ran a very yellow light. “Maybe you’d better stop while I tell you about it.”

  “What? And sit at the side of the road, freezing to death? I’m wearing a skirt.”

  “Josie.”

  She noted his expression and quieted instantly.

  After she’d pulled into the drive of an abandoned dry-cleaning shop, Josie shoved her gearshift into park but left the motor running. She waited quietly, as if sensing the importance of this moment.

  “I got a name,” he said.

  Those eyes grew huge. “How?”

  “When we were leaving, I noticed Earl watching me. I went back to talk to him.”

  “What did he tell you?”

  “Handsome Joe’s last name.”

  Josie looked as if curiosity might bust her eyes right out of her head.

  “Henshaw. The name’s Joe Henshaw. His family once owned the hotel on fifty-four.”

  Gabe wouldn’t tell her the personal side of the story. That his mother knew Joe’s mother. That they saw each other socially. That Josie had met the woman several times.

  For one thing, Josie might press Alana for her son’s address. Then Alana would wonder why she was looking for her son. What if his mom’s friend didn’t know about her son’s association with Ella Blume?

  Was it Gabe’s place to expose this longtime secret? It sounded like a colossal mess. And he couldn’t think of a way to explain his involvement, or lack of it, to anyone.

  “Isn’t that family still in town?” Josie asked. “If I remember right, the wife had her hand in all kinds of charity work.”

  “The Henshaws divorced,” Gabe said. “The family might have scattered.”

  They had and Gabe knew it.

  But Alana still lived here in Augusta. Gabe didn’t know Joe’s whereabouts.

  He heard a shuffle and a click, then light flooded the cab of Josie’s truck. She’d opened her door. “What are you doing, kid?”

  “You’ll see.”

  She ran around to her truck box and opened it to pull something out. When she crawled into the driver’s side, she plopped a big phone book on the console between them and started thumbing through. “H-A. H-E. Here it is! Joseph A. Henshaw!”

  Gabe peered at the address.

  “Brookside Circle,” she said, her voice husky with excitement. “Isn’t that east of town?”

  If Gabe placed it right, the address was in a small neighborhood off to itself. He’d driven through there once, exploring. He remembered tiny row houses, stray animals and overfilled trash bins. Signs of poverty.

  “It’s late, Josie. We can’t go tonight.”

  “We can drive by,” she said. “I think that address is off the old highway. We won’t knock or anything, but I want to see his house.”

  If Gabe refused, she’d drop him off at home and go anyway. His efforts to caution her had been wasted.

  “Okay, then. Let’s go.”

  She put her truck into drive. “You sure you don’t want me to take you home first?”

  “No.”

  “What’s your problem, then? I hear the reluctance in your voice.” She veered out of the lot and toward the highway.

  “You’re jumping in with your eyes closed again, that’s all,” Gabe said. “Shouldn’t you talk to your sisters before you pursue this?”

  “He’s not their dad,” she said. “In my opinion, this evening couldn’t have gone better. I have a name and address.”

  He bit his tongue. She’d heard his best arguments.

  “I’m a big girl, Gabe.”

  He stayed quiet, watching her drive on.

  Josie found the neighborhood easily. It wasn’t as far into the countryside as Gabe had expected. Most of the houses were dark, but the lights of a television flickered behind the shaded windows of the listed address.

  “I think this is it,” she whispered as she pulled over to the curb.

  The place was extremely small, and could have only three or four rooms, tops. Gabe couldn’t see much in the darkness, just an impression of a shabby porch.

  “Look, Gabe.” Josie brushed a hand against his coat sleeve, then pointed.

  “What is it?”

  “Next to the door.”

  Someone had hung a wreath, beside the screen. Even in the darkness, the wreath looked lopsided. Cheap.

  “Breaks my heart,” she said. “He’s welcomed Christmas.”

  Gabe knew then. This search wouldn’t end tonight. He’d checked out that wreath and seen a bunch of gaudy plastic leaves. Josie had seen a holiday decoration. No matter what kind of a person she found inside, she would want to know him.

  She sat there for moment, until Gabe finally suggested that she turn off the truck. No need to alert the neighborhood that someone was out here watching them.

  She did, and seconds later a silhouette appeared in the front window. Josie gasped, but the shadow moved to the right until it disappeared. The occupant hadn’t spotted them. Gabe guessed that the television was playing a commercial. He glanced at Josie and caught the new intensity in her posture.

  “We can’t go up there, Josie. It’s well after eleven o’clock. Even if he’s still dressed, he won’t expect a visitor.”

  “I know.”

  “That might not even be the man.”

  She moved her focus from the distant door to Gabe, who was sitting in her line of vision.

  “You don’t even know for certain this is the house.”

  “Oh, but I feel it.” She studied that porch again. “I think that man in there, who hung the wreath and watches television late at night, is my dad.”

  So did Gabe, and that worried him.

  “You’ll be okay, Josie. It doesn’t matter who he is or what he’s done with his life. You are you, no matter what you find out.”

  “Lord. Lighten up, Gabe.” She sat gazing at the house, until the shadow reappeared briefly and then returned to the
original spot. The commercials must have finished.

  “Let’s go before we freeze to death,” Gabe said.

  She didn’t move.

  “Josie! He might notice the truck and call the police.”

  Without speaking, Josie started the truck, circled around and headed west toward town. Obviously, she was full of her own thoughts.

  “And don’t show up here in the morning,” he added. “Go to work. Come home. Let this settle.”

  “God, you’re controlling. Just can it, won’t you?”

  Gabe clenched his jaw and shut up.

  When Josie approached the main highway, Gabe expected her to whip onto the nearly empty thoroughfare, but she made a full stop at the street sign.

  “I’m sorry,” she murmured, glancing at him. “You’ve been great to help me through all this. I have no right to grouse.”

  “No problem, kid. I get that this is a big deal to you.”

  “You do, don’t you?”

  She continued toward home, again quiet. After she’d pulled into Gabe’s drive, he entertained a wayward thought about asking her inside to pick up on their earlier kissing session. He couldn’t fathom hopping out and jogging to the back door, as he had a hundred times before.

  They’d gone beyond that, hadn’t they?

  But Josie had said it herself. She was distracted, confused. Busy. Her mind wasn’t on him.

  He reached for his door handle.

  “Hey.” She shifted the truck into park and turned in the seat, opening her arms to invite a hug. Her grin was remorseful, and she still looked a little lost.

  He moved in her direction and found her easily in the small cab. Her warmth felt good in the still-frigid air.

  Then Josie kissed him, her mouth firm if lingering. It was meant as a thank-you, Gabe was certain, but after a moment her lips softened and changed.

  Their quick heat surprised Gabe, but he was willing. He kissed her back. Josie made a noise in her throat that sounded so feminine his body reacted with ready arousal.

  Gabe moved his mouth deeper over hers, losing time and all caution. Soon, he realized the cab was getting hot. Really hot. Josie’s temperamental heater had kicked in, adding its blast to their inferno.

  “Hot in here,” he mumbled through the kisses. He wrestled out of his coat and helped her out of hers.