The Third Daughter's Wish

by Kaitlyn Rice

  After darting through the opening, she left the bar. She didn’t realize Gabe had followed her until she was in the lot.

  “Josie.”

  She rolled her eyes and spun around, walking backward. “Go inside, Gabe. Find your date.”

  “I wanted to be sure I didn’t upset you,” he said. “I had no idea you’d be here.”

  She stopped at her truck, which was parked near the front door of the bar. No way he could have passed it without noticing it. “Uh-huh.”

  She stuck her key in the lock.

  “After I drove into the lot, I saw your truck, of course. But by then I’d already told Shelby I was taking her in for a drink.”

  “Right.” Josie opened her door, then hesitated. “Hey, Gabe. I can’t do the brunch after all.”

  “What?” By now he was very near. She could feel his breath, hot on her cheek.

  “I can’t do it,” she repeated. “I have plans. I’ll be busy all day tomorrow. Sorry.”

  “Josie.”

  She got in, closed the door and started the truck. Without waiting to put on her seat belt or turn on her headlights, she tore out of the lot.

  By the time she’d approached Ohio Street, she’d settled herself enough to drive home safe.

  Emotionally, she was a wreck. She was embarrassed, and she felt chicken. She hated that.

  Saying or hearing any of the words that would have been spoken at brunch would have hurt like hell, so why exchange them? They both must wish the words weren’t necessary.

  Josie hated the way she’d behaved around Gabe tonight, but normal seemed like some distant memory. So she would avoid the conversation—avoid Gabe—until something else happened or she figured out how to contain her raging emotions.

  And now she’d have to find something to do all day tomorrow, in case Gabe called or came by the house to check on her. He must have done that a hundred times after a night out at Mary’s.

  Josie couldn’t even hide the truck and hole up in the house. The dang key trade.

  She’d get her set back as soon as possible. Not normal, perhaps, but necessary until she’d recuperated enough to handle the tumult her life had become.

  A FEW DAYS LATER, Josie sat watching Joe toy with his cigarette pack. He was in his recliner—she’d taken the kitchen chair this time—and had to be wishing she would leave so he could light up.

  At least he’d known she was coming tonight. She’d called him on Sunday evening, asking if there was a good time for a visit this week. Sometime after work. That was when she’d learned that he currently worked an overnight shift at a printing business here in town. She’d have to visit late in the evening, when he was awake and preparing for work.

  Josie had arrived about an hour ago, and she felt they were hitting it off rather well.

  “So you’re the black sheep of the family?” Joe asked her, responding to her comment that Ella had always compared her with her sisters.

  “I wouldn’t say that,” she said. “Mother tried to tame my bad habits, but she also told me she was proud of me fairly often.”

  “I wasn’t the black sheep either,” he said. “People talk about their black sheep, if only to complain about the trouble they cause. I’d say I’m the family’s five-legged sheep.”

  “Five-legged?”

  “The one that’s sort of strange, that no one in the family talks about?”

  Josie laughed with him, then shook her head. “Your family’s around, then?”

  “Mother’s still here in town.”

  “Do you visit her?”

  “No. You been married, Josie?”

  Smiling at the rapid change of subjects—one of her own avoidance techniques—Josie shook her head. “Nope.”

  “What? You don’t like men?”

  “I like them too much.”

  “What about the tall fellow you brought with you a few days ago?”

  “Gabe’s a friend,” Josie said. “And please don’t pair us up, even in your thoughts. I noticed you aren’t married.”

  “Too many bad habits. I’m not marriage material.”

  How many times had Josie said that marriage made people fat and boring, that she wanted nothing to do with it?

  Joe fussed with his cigarette pack. Josie had reasons to believe that he drank, too. She’d seen several liquor bottles on his countertop a while ago, when she’d gone in to get the kitchen chair.

  All those years that her mother had talked about alcoholic men, she must have been talking about Joe.

  Who’d have suspected?

  “I have my own vices,” Josie said. “Or Mother would say so. I like noise. Beer. Parties.”

  Joe lifted out of his chair. “Did I offer you something, girl? I can’t drink just before work, but I’m sure I’ve got something in the fridge.”

  “You did offer. Sit down. I have to work tomorrow.”

  “Your drinking’s not a vice, then.” He eyed his cigarettes. “You don’t smoke?”

  “No.”

  “Then you’re fine, girl. You’re honest. You work hard. You’re beautiful.”

  She must have looked doubtful.

  “You’re thinking you’re not?” her father said. “But you have clear skin, a straight nose and big, sparkly eyes. You carry yourself as if you’re happy. You must catch the eyes of men everywhere you go.”

  Josie beamed at him, happy in a moment every daughter should experience at least once: hearing that her father considered her attractive and why. The memory must carry over through a girl’s entire life.

  “Actually, you remind me of my sister,” Joe added.

  “I do?”

  “Oh, yeah. She was hot stuff—a cheerleader in high school. She won one of those titles—prom princess? She has that same rounded face with big eyes. Hers are blue, though. The guys were gaga over her when she was single.”

  “I get along with guys,” Josie said. “But mostly because I don’t spout my emotions all the time. I’m more of a tomboy.”

  “You don’t date?”

  “I do. And the guy and I talk about sports and cars. We have fun.”

  “They might keep seeing you because you’re fun, but they ask you out because you’re pretty.”

  Josie’s “Thank you” was buried beneath another of Joe’s coughing fits. These coughs were deep and angry. “You okay, Joe?” she asked when he calmed.

  “I do this every winter.” He coughed another couple of times. “Bronchitis probably.”

  “Have you consulted with a doctor?”

  Josie eyed her as if she’d suggested that he yank out his own tonsils.

  “You should see someone about your cough.”

  “Why? I smoke. I feel no need to have someone tell me it’s bad for me. I’m aware that it is, but it’s my choice.”

  She returned to her chair and debated whether to state the obvious. Since she was practical and plain-spoken, she did. “It could be something you could fix, though, Joe. You ought to check it out.”

  “Whatever it is, I don’t need to know,” he said. “If it’s bad and I go, my absence will hardly be noticed.”

  Now, why did that statement hurt? Josie had just met the man.

  “I like you, Josie-girl, but I don’t need any more family coming around to tell me how to handle myself. I’m a stubborn old cuss who’s chosen a life that suits me.”

  Josie realized then that Joe was smart. This is who I am, he was saying. Right off. Allowing her the choice to proceed with caution or retreat.

  Her earlier analysis had been wrong.

  Joe wasn’t some weak-minded guy her mother had found for her specific purpose. He was more than that. Perhaps Ella had held some small, private affection for him.

  The thought was surprisingly comforting.

  Joe recognized what he’d sacrificed because of his bad habits. He might be a fool, but he wasn’t a blind fool.

  “Have you told your mother about me?” Josie asked.

  “Nope. As I said, I do
n’t talk to her.”

  Anything else Joe might have said was taken over by a new round of coughs. When he finally quieted, he said, “Listen, I had a good time tonight, but I should get ready for work.” He eyed that pack of cigarettes as if he was growing desperate for them.

  She stood and grabbed her coat from the chair back. Her father had given her a good hour. She was satisfied.

  “Could you stand another visit, maybe this weekend?” she asked as she buttoned her coat.

  He led her to the door. “I’d like that.”

  Josie hugged him very gently, noticing not the frailty of his bones, as she had with Rick Blume, but the warm strength of his hold on her.

  As she drove home, Josie chuckled a few times, remembering snippets of conversation. When she’d first asked Joe for this visit, she’d done so partly as an excuse to get out of the house. Because of the Gabe situation. He’d been calling her, trying to set up another time for that talk. She’d managed to avoid him.

  But when Josie turned down her street, she saw Gabe’s car parked in her driveway.

  She was tempted to leave again. Perhaps she could visit Callie and Ethan and avoid home for another few hours. At that moment, however, she’d rather face Gabe. She hoped to tell him about her evening with Joe.

  She’d missed Gabe. Now that she was over her jealous funk about Shelby, perhaps she could handle a return to friendship.

  Except…crud! How could she explain her behavior the other night? Gabe would surely have recognized her silly antics for what they were: out-of-control emotions. She’d acted…girly.

  She could admit that it had hurt to know that he’d confided her private situation to his date.

  That was a girly response, too, but it was the easiest truth to tell. She’d use that one, see what Gabe said, then let him know that she was fine—herself again, and not thinking about him all the time.

  Gabe’s friendship was surely worth another fib.

  Chapter Eleven

  Gabe was in Josie’s kitchen when he heard her walk in. After days of trying to catch her, he’d finally decided to bring some clothes and stay until she came home for a change of hers.

  It was time to lay this attraction problem out between them and deal with it. He wasn’t ready to chuck the relationship forever. He loved that little gal as much as he loved his own family, but in an oddly more personal way—as if her happiness was somehow his responsibility.

  Josie walked straight into the kitchen, took off her coat and draped it over a chair. She tossed her keys onto the counter opposite him, then leaned against it to eye him.

  Gabe realized he was jumpy. If he said something wrong, he could scare Josie away again. He longed to do the opposite. He lifted his palm and tried a simple “Hello.”

  She snickered. “This is tough, isn’t it?”

  “Oh, yeah.”

  “Well, let’s make it easier,” Josie said. “I’ll admit that I was in a snit for a while. I’m over it.”

  “A snit? Because of Shelby?”

  “Because it wasn’t your place to share my personal news with a stranger.”

  “Personal news?”

  “That I’d met my father for the first time.”

  He’d hoped Josie was jealous. Wonderfully, charmingly jealous. He still thought she might have been, even if she didn’t admit it.

  “Shelby made it sound as if I’d poured my heart out about you and Joe, but it wasn’t that way at all.”

  Josie took off her coat and dropped it over the back of a chair. “How was it, then?”

  “Friday night was our first date and it was hardly a date,” Gabe said. “Shelby had asked me to go to this dinner several times, and I finally gave in about an hour beforehand. I forgot about the talking problem.”

  “What talking problem?”

  “Shelby’s. She babbles.”

  “Oh.”

  “So by the time we were getting in my car to head to the cousin’s house, I’d already listened to about twenty minutes of chatter. When she asked about my day I was relieved.” He shrugged. “I told her about it.”

  Josie snorted.

  “Besides, I’ve always talked to the women I date about you. I don’t remember you being angry about it.”

  She pinched her lips together.

  Okay. Things had changed. If Josie didn’t want to believe it, he did. Gabe figured that their relationship had started shifting sometime after Halloween.

  They’d kissed, and for the first time acknowledged the sexual energy between them. Or maybe it’d been before Halloween, whenever he’d started feeling jealous of the men who flirted with Josie.

  That was what he wanted to talk to her about tonight. Maybe they could stop the touching and kissing, but how would they handle the out-of-place feelings?

  “I screwed up, telling Shelby,” he said. “It was an old habit. I apologize.”

  “Forget it. I’m fine.” She rolled her eyes and let out a huffy sigh. “But, Gabe? I’m not comfortable with this key trade idea, anymore.”

  “Key trade?”

  “You’re in my house. You let yourself in.”

  “Uh-huh.”

  “I think you should wait for an invitation now, okay? Still friends, but more respectful of privacy.”

  Yeah. He had felt odd letting himself in today. “Sounds fair.”

  “I’ll give you your keys. You return mine.” She grabbed her key ring and wrestled with it. He pulled his set from his pocket and detached her house and truck keys. After a moment, they met in the middle of the kitchen and traded.

  “Oh! Your car key’s on my dresser. I never got around to putting it on my ring. Be right back.” She started down the hallway that led to her bedroom.

  He couldn’t follow her.

  Even if he did tackle her on a run and bounce her onto her bed, Josie knew self-defense. She’d use it on him.

  Probably.

  She had kissed him back rather vigorously on several occasions. She’d allowed him to explore her bare skin once.

  She’d played tongue tag with him.

  Hell’s bells. He couldn’t go back to her bedroom.

  Gabe leaned against Josie’s kitchen counter, staring out the sliding-glass doors into the backyard and trying to think of something besides that hot jealousy in her eyes whenever he mentioned Shelby.

  He wondered where she’d been these past few days. Out with Wisconsin, despite his single-dad status?

  Gabe’s intention to talk calmly about choices vanished. He wanted to ask if Josie had missed him as much as he’d missed her. Had she missed her old friend Gabe?

  Or the man she’d been kissing?

  He wanted sex and forgiveness and a mutual responsibility to protect each other’s feelings—

  Here she was.

  She walked in and gave him his spare car key. As he took it from her, their knuckles touched. Gabe could imagine himself grabbing her wrist, yanking her forward and kissing her until she recognized the rare passion in his touch.

  Until she felt it, too.

  But Gabe lived with his feet on the ground.

  And the moment moved away. “I told Shelby I wouldn’t be seeing her anymore,” he said.

  “So soon?” Josie asked, her voice breezy as she stood beside him, next to the fridge.

  “Nadine was sure I’d like her, too. I guess sisters aren’t always the best matchmakers.”

  “Well, Shelby was nice.” Josie sounded too cool. “And she was that tall blond type you go for.”

  Gabe was tempted to call Josie’s bluff and kiss her.

  If she was bluffing.

  She turned to yank open her refrigerator door to investigate the contents, as though bored with the subject.

  If he’d found the courage, Gabe could have told her that he’d avoided the good-night kiss with Shelby, even though the teacher had hinted that she’d be receptive.

  Instead, Gabe had told her he was uninterested, forever and always, and had hurried home to imagine ho
t, bathtub kisses with Josie.

  Josie shut the fridge door after a moment, then moved across to the opposite counter. She didn’t look prepared for a feelings conversation.

  “You been out?” he asked.

  “I visited Joe again.”

  She’d gone alone? “How did that go?”

  “Better than you might think. He has some bad habits, but he was open with me. He’s smart. Sincere. I think we’re going to get along very well.”

  Gabe curbed a hug impulse. “I’m glad.”

  She began listing some of the things that Joe had done and said, and Gabe listened with a smile on his face. Other folks might have been put off by their discovery of a poor man who’d made irresponsible choices.

  Josie would forgive the superficial things. She’d find the good in a person.

  Lord, he loved that about her. Not just her pluck or her eyes or her laugh. He loved the way she viewed the world through kind eyes.

  “He acted as though he enjoyed our conversation as much as I did,” Josie said, her voice growing stronger as she got into the telling of her experience. “I see so much of myself in him, too.”

  Gabe fought to control his thoughts. “Like what?”

  “He’s also the youngest of three, and he claims that his brother and sister are perfect.” She shook her head, laughing. “He jokes about it the same way I do.”

  “I happen to prefer you to your sisters. They are remarkable. But they aren’t you.”

  The tinge to Josie’s cheeks was all the thanks he needed.

  “This has been surreal,” she said. “At Halloween, I set out to find my father for Lilly’s sake—Callie’s and Isabel’s and my father, that is. It’s not even Christmas and I know I’m their half sister. And I’ve met my own dad.”

  Suddenly, she looked lost.

  Damn it. This was a tough time for Josie. Could Gabe not remember that for ten minutes?

  He sat at her kitchen table and used his foot to scoot a chair out across from him. “Get comfortable,” he said. “Tell me more about this visit.”

  “Would you like a beer?” she asked, opening her refrigerator door again. “Dang. I only have one. It’s yours if you want it.”