Their Surprise Daddy

by Ruth Logan Herne

  “Where’s all this going?”

  “The back of our carriage house,” she told him. “Dad leaves the third bay for my pre-K stuff.”

  “Mice don’t bother it?”

  “We’ve lost some books and art supplies in the past,” she admitted. “It’s a garage, so the occasional mouse is a given.”

  “Could we store it someplace else?”

  She shook her head, eyes forward. “The price of a storage unit wouldn’t offset a few crayons and yarn. The garage is fine.”

  “All right.” He drove back to the Gallagher house, backed the truck into the designated bay and dropped the tailgate. “How about if you hop up there and slide those boxes and totes back to me? I’ll stack them.”

  It made sense, so she did it, and by the time they were done, Cruz had stacked everything into neat sections. She had to hand it to him, his organizational skills were pretty solid. Her father would have hodgepodged the boxes into a corner. She started to jump down.

  Two hands at her waist stopped her. Two big, beautiful, strong hands, with a gentle but firm grip.

  She ordered her pulse to slow down.

  It refused, and actually sped faster when her feet touched the ground, because Cruz didn’t let go. She looked up. Met his gaze.

  Her heart joined in the amplified rhythm when he smiled at her.

  She knew that smile. She’d been falling head over heels for that smile and the strong, funny man behind it. He held on for long, slow ticks of the clock, then dropped his hands. “Let’s get those tables.”

  “All right.”

  She cleared her head of the smile and the feel of his hands at her waist. He was just trying to help in her father’s place, so to make more of it than that would be foolish on her part, and she’d had enough of that.

  They loaded the tables, tucked them into the garage and closed the bay.

  “Done.” Cruz looked at her, triumphant.

  “Yes. Thank you. It’s always good to have that job out of the way.”

  “You do this every summer? Set everything up in the church, then break it down when preschool is done?”

  “Not always the church,” she reminded him. “We set up in whatever building has a room they don’t mind us using. The old fire hall, church basements, a rectory basement, unused meeting rooms.”

  “So of course you’d want a place of your own.” He didn’t glance across The Square at the Belker buildings, but she knew he was thinking of it.

  “That’s one of the reasons,” she replied, as if they were just a couple of old chums talking. “I think I’m pretty effective with kids, regardless of surroundings. I make it work, and the kids don’t notice. They want love and attention and someone to teach them and be nice to them. The other reason to establish my own program is to offer kids a chance they might not get the way things are now. Kids like Lily and Javi were before you came along. Kids in loving homes but with no money for schooling, who start at a disadvantage.”

  “It’s a solid goal, Rory.” He held her gaze as if he wanted to say more, then didn’t. “Your dad will be needing the truck for hauling lumber. I better head back.”

  “Of course.” She stepped back, too, polite, just like Cruz. “Thank you for helping.” She indicated the stuffed garage with a glance. “I couldn’t have done it alone.”

  “Glad to be here.” He touched the tip of the old Grace Haven Eagles ball cap he was wearing, got into the truck and drove away.

  And that was that.

  But it wasn’t. She didn’t want him to drive away, and she’d promised herself she’d see the kids. She didn’t even know when he was leaving, and she’d avoided the topic on purpose so she wouldn’t get silly and emotional.

  She went inside, restless.

  “Rory?”

  She turned when Kimberly called her name, surprised. “I forgot you were here.”

  “Shh.” Kimberly put her finger to her lips. “Davy’s sleeping, and despite what they said about waking him every couple of hours to eat, I’m letting him sleep. That was the first two-hour nap I’ve gotten in weeks.”

  “Here, sit down.” Rory pulled out a chair. “Do you want coffee? Can you have coffee?”

  “Yes to both, but I’d rather have Mom’s iced tea. Nobody makes it better. Wasn’t that nice of Cruz to help you?”

  Rory recognized her big sister’s informational-quest expression, the one where she said one thing while ferreting out another. “Very nice. Stop probing. I do believe I explained that he’d be adopting the kids and taking them to New York, end of story, so get that gleam out of your eye.”

  “Of course that makes sense,” offered Kimberly. “He lives in Manhattan.”

  “It doesn’t make one bit of sense,” Rory argued.

  “No?” Kimberly arched a brow.

  “Not when the kids are so happy here. What is there about living in a midtown high-rise that works for kids? Kids that are used to running up and down hills, playing hide-and-seek in grapevines. All I can see is total culture shock.”

  “I see your point.” Kimberly paused, playing the moment the way big sisters often did. “So what if you married Cruz and you adopted the kids together and he stayed here and you raised them while running your new school?”

  “Give the lady a prize,” Rory muttered as she slid onto the bench facing Kimberly. “That would be the first choice, of course, but since that’s unlikely to happen, I think those sweet darlings are fated to be raised in Manhattan.”

  “It’s a beautiful city with amazing facilities. They’ll be fine.” Kimberly yawned, then stretched her hand to Rory’s. “But I’m sorry there isn’t going to be a wedding. I would have taken great joy in getting everything ready for you. Sweet, simple and rooted in faith, the kind of wedding you’ve always wanted.”

  Rory shrugged. “In God’s time, right? And in light of my crushing failure in the romance department, iced tea isn’t cutting it. I need the real deal. Do you want a cone from Stan’s?”

  Enthusiasm lit Kimberly’s eyes. “Not a cone. I want a banana split, the triple-scoop size. And I’m buying.” She reached into her pocket and pulled out a twenty. “You go get them while I listen for Davy, and we can sit on the porch, eat our custards and remember all of our summers.”

  “Deal.” She crossed The Square and brought the sundaes back home a few minutes later. They sat on the porch, talking softly, long after they’d finished their sundaes. By the time Drew pulled up with Amy, little Dave was starting to fuss. The calm was broken, but it had been nice to share that time with Kimberly, especially when she wasn’t in bossy big-sister mode. She reached out and gave Rory a hug while Drew changed the baby. “I never used to believe in God’s timing.”

  Rory knew the truth in that. Her big sister had come to town pretty sure she could handle everything completely on her own. “I remember.”

  Kimberly smiled. “And then out of all the crazy, things started working out amazingly well.”

  Rory hugged her. “I love that you’re still smart. Motherhood hasn’t stolen all your brain cells.”

  “I love you, Rory.”

  “I know.” Rory tipped her gaze up to Kimberly’s. “Feeling’s mutual. And I really like the kid, by the way,” she added as Drew brought the baby their way. “Just looking at him makes me see everything a little brighter. A little better.”

  “Me, too.”

  The phone rang as Kimberly and Drew left. Holbrook School District was on the other end, asking to schedule an interview the next morning.

  And there it was, the writing on the wall. Maybe she was meant to get this job. Maybe when the door closed on the Belker house, and nothing else became available, this was the window, sliding open.

  “Yes, I can be there at nine thirty, and thank you.” She hung up the phone with mix
ed emotion.

  So many people would jump at the chance to be part of the guaranteed paycheck in the public school system. Benefits, retirement. Oh, she’d heard it all, for years.

  And if that was what she was meant to do, she’d do it. It was a wonderful opportunity, a great chance to be gainfully employed and independent. If it meant putting her plans on hold, or putting them aside forever, perhaps that’s what had to happen. If her dream of a school was supposed to become reality, wouldn’t things have worked out sometime in the past two years?

  Creeping shadows cooled the evening. Pots of flowers meant for Rosa’s grave lined the walk. It had been too rainy to place them the week before, but the ground had dried.

  She grabbed a small rake and shovel, a bag of mulch, some gardening gloves and the six potted plants. She drove the two miles to the cemetery, and made three trips across the section to carry everything to the grassy plot.

  Rosa had ordered a small stone the year before, to mark Elina’s and Maria’s lives. It sat off to the right, next to Cruz’s father’s.

  Rory turned the soft earth, shook out grass and weeds and gave the potted flowers a permanent home. She watered them from the pump-handled spigot along the cemetery path, then spread the mulch.

  The site looked more peaceful now. Loved.

  Soon there would be no direct family around to take care of the plot. But maybe Javi and Lily would come back someday, and when they did, they might visit their mother’s stone, the family plot, and Rory wanted it to look loved.

  She finished the job and packed up her things, and as she started the car, she looked back.

  Rosa had made mistakes. Everyone did. But the one thing she’d taught her son was to go the distance. To do his best in everything.

  As she looked at the small cheerful garden, she reconsidered tomorrow morning’s interview.

  If she was meant to be a regular teacher, would God have put this fire in her heart for the disadvantaged?

  No.

  And if they offered her the position, would it be right to take it when someone else—someone more invested in that kind of teaching position—might appreciate it more and do it better?

  It wouldn’t be right. She’d be compounding the kind of mistake she abhorred, thinking of trading service solely because of money. And yet, she’d found out the hard way that starting a school was a costly process.

  Gallaghers never give up.

  Her grandma always said that, and her family proved it. They’d be fine with whatever decision she made, but the truth was, Rory wouldn’t be fine with it.

  She called Holbrook first thing the next morning, canceled the interview and had them remove her name from their list.

  Yes, she loved teaching, but she had a dream, and she wasn’t ready to give it up. Not yet.

  She’d stay on the active substitute teacher list, and search for funding and a spot because, yes, a door might have closed a few weeks back—but that didn’t mean the right window wasn’t going to open. It merely meant she needed more patience and focus to see that it did.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Cruz looked around the newly divided office space overlooking The Square, then faced Chen Motsuma. “Are you all right taking lead in the office until school starts in two weeks?”

  Chen crossed the new office. He tipped a blind and looked out the window. “A somewhat different view, Cruz.”

  Church spires rose between The Square and Canandaigua Lake beyond. “That’s for sure. Do you think Lara and the kids will enjoy living here?”

  He held up his phone. “Lara has already put our names on a church list, a school list and some kind of welcome thing from Gabby somebody or other.”

  “Gabby Gallagher, one of the best bakers around. That’s a welcome basket you’ll be happy to have land at your door.”

  “We’ve got the house pretty well set, and Lara’s taking the kids on nature hikes every day. I think she’s crazy glad I came to my senses, and now that Rodney lifted the lock on my funds...”

  “The threatened lawsuit probably didn’t hurt,” Cruz acknowledged.

  “It definitely tipped the scales in my favor.” Chen motioned south toward Casa Blanca. “You get those other things done, get the little ones situated and, yes, I’ll take charge here. And, Cruz,” he added as Cruz started to move toward the door leading to Main Street. “Thank you.”

  Cruz gave him a thumbs-up. “We should have thought of this a long time ago. It’s a shame it took family loss to give us a reason to change things, but I couldn’t be starting this new enterprise with anyone better, Chen.”

  “Agreed.”

  Cruz walked outside, started to approach his car, then crossed The Square instead. He strolled over to Creighton Landing, knocked on the Gallagher door, and when Rory answered, he had to make his heart slow down so he could breathe half-right again. “Hey.”

  She looked up at him, then beyond him. “Hey.”

  He read the look. “The kids are at the house, helping Regina’s daughter get stuff done. Which means they’re most likely getting in the way.”

  “Packing is never fun.”

  “Why would they be packing?”

  “For New York.”

  A ripple of anticipation rode up his spine because she hadn’t heard about his change of plans, a fact that was directly related to her father being a non-talker. “Oh, yes. New York. About that...”

  She didn’t wait for him to finish. “Would it be okay if I come to visit them sometime? I know they were only with me for a few weeks, but I’ve actually known them since they first came to town, and I’d like the chance to see them. If that’s okay,” she added again. “I don’t want to be disruptive, Cruz.”

  “I’d like that. In fact—” He leaned forward slightly, just close enough to appreciate the green and gold highlights in her caramel-toned eyes. “I’d love for you to visit, Rory. Anytime.”

  “You would?”

  “Oh, yes.” He smiled into the prettiest pair of surprised eyes he’d ever seen. “Got time for a cone?”

  “A cone?” She glanced from him to Stan’s Custard Stand and back, and when a slight smile teased her lips, Cruz figured he might be making some progress. “I’d be a fool to say no.”

  He tipped his head toward Stan’s and held out a hand. “Summer will be over soon. No one should waste a chance to get custard on a perfect August day.”

  “No, they shouldn’t.” She put her hand in his.

  He closed his fingers around hers and it felt so right that he almost said too much. He stopped himself, but it wasn’t easy. A custard cone first.

  And the hand-holding was nice, too.

  And then maybe she’d come out to the house, and see what he’d been doing since packing hadn’t entered into the equation.

  They walked up to Stan’s window, still hand in hand. “Cone? Dish? Sundae?”

  “A cone,” she decided, scanning Stan’s list. “A waffle cone with Dynamite Crunch.”

  He checked out the display, then held up two fingers. “Make that two.” And when they had their cones, he didn’t suggest they sit. He took her hand again, and led her toward the water.

  “You’re not working today?” She eyed their hands, the cones and the town clock snugged along the edge of The Square.

  “I took a few days off to get things in order. We weren’t done with fix-up projects when Mom passed away, so those had to be completed. And I had a few odd things to take care of. Your dad jumped in on those. He’s been a big help.”

  “He’s a wonderful man. I’m not surprised you like him.”

  He bumped shoulders with her. “Because I’m pretty nice, too?”

  She started to say something, and he paused, stopped and faced her, just before they reached the thick ribbon of sand. “
I want to apologize for not telling you about the Belker place sooner. I felt bad that I’d done it when you told me about your dream, but I should have told you right away. I’m sorry, Rory. I promise I won’t be keeping any more secrets from you. Okay? Will you forgive me?” He tipped his gaze down to her. “How I wish you would.”

  * * *

  He wouldn’t be keeping secrets from her?

  As in...in the future he wouldn’t keep secrets from her? But they didn’t have a future.

  Did they?

  She licked her cone to avoid it dripping down the front of her shirt, then answered, “I was too sensitive.”

  When he started to argue, she said, “Shush.”

  He shushed. And smiled.

  “I thought about it after I got upset, and I realized that you were only doing what you’re supposed to do. You see a great deal, you seize it. I do the same thing at the mall, but with fewer zeroes after the dollar signs. I shouldn’t have blamed you for being good at what you do. I was mad that I got bested and I overreacted. My bad.”

  “So you’re sorry?”

  “I do believe I suggested that.”

  He slanted her a quizzical look. “And yet you didn’t say it outright.”

  “I have to say it outright?”

  He grinned, waiting.

  She puffed out a long breath of air. “I’m sorry, Cruz.”

  “Your cone’s dripping.”

  It was, and it took a minute to regain the upper hand with her cone. By the time she did, they’d reached the sand. “I love it here,” he mused as they walked along the edge. Not too many people were sitting along the beach, but dozens were swimming, sunbathing and water-skiing. “I’d forgotten how beautiful it really is.”

  “You could always keep the house and use it for vacations,” she suggested. “Although it’s a pricey property to use that way. Or get something smaller when you sell, and that way the kids can have time up here as they grow. I think those memories would go a long way toward healing old hurts in little lives.”

  “It’s a thought.” He glanced at his watch and his eyebrows shot up. “And I’ve got to get back home. Regina’s daughter has an appointment tonight, and I don’t want to make her late. Are you working tomorrow?”