The Daddy issue

by Melissa Beck

  Gretchen frowned. “He's a reporter?"

  "Yup. Checked out his rental car on the way in. He had a stack of newspapers on the back seat, some legal pads with scribble all over them, five paper cups from coffee shops, and a black case, size of a computer."

  "Maybe he's a paperboy."

  "With a press badge hanging from his rearview mirror?"

  She shook her head, smiling. “Wow, Eula. You're a regular Sherlock."

  "Eh, I watch a lot of TV mysteries. What else is an old woman to do around here?"

  Gretchen rolled her eyes. “You walk three miles to town every day and you read a stack of books a week. Don't try to tell me you're bored or old.” Getting back to the matter at hand, she said, “So what do you think? What would a reporter want with Daniel?"

  "To stir up trouble, most likely."

  Gretchen pressed her lips together. What was the guy up to? Did Daniel have a part in it? She shrugged. A heavy feeling had settled in her shoulders.

  "Don't frown so, child. You'll give yourself wrinkles. Anyway, time'll tell. It always does.” Eula narrowed her faded blue gaze on Gretchen. “When you introduced me to your friend Daniel at the musical last night, he reminded me of someone. Does he remind you of someone?"

  "No,” Gretchen croaked.

  Eula smiled. “Secrets are always safe with me.” Turning away, she moved to another row to shop.

  Gretchen's stomach lurched. Who else could she have meant but Amy?

  She had to talk to Daniel and see why this guy was here. He knew about them. And now Eula knew. Their secret had protected them, but now she had this sinking feeling that someone might slip and say something.

  Guilt permeated her for giving in to Daniel's kisses and letting her guard down, when she should've insisted, “You've seen Amy. Now go."

  Even if their secret was still safe, the worst thing she could do was fall for Daniel, and because of that put Amy at risk. Memories of her mother standing in the doorway as her father left, and later, sobbing on the couch with a half-empty bottle of whiskey tucked under her arm after her latest lover walked out, made her even more determined. She'd never put Amy through the loss, fear, and sadness that she'd lived through. She never wanted her daughter to have to feel like the grown-up in their family, either. Amy was a happy, carefree child.

  Making sure she stayed that way was more important than anything else in the world.

  * * * *

  "I'm at Wally's plant, discussing marketing plans for the festival,” Daniel told Gretchen over his cell phone around two that afternoon. “He set me up with Eula Miller for a tour of the caves since they're on her property. I'd like for you and Amy to come with me."

  "To the farm?” She'd been distracted by his voice, rich as butter. Butter is bad for you. Coming back to her senses, she said, “I thought you were leaving today."

  "I was. But Wally asked me to stick around and help him at the festival. I gave him ideas for tie-ins to his sponsorship and I think he wants to show me he can pull them off."

  "Tell me again why you're helping Wally?"

  "Because I like him. I said I'd help him, and I'm enjoying myself."

  Interference crackled over the cell.

  "I liked last night, too, Gretchen."

  Heat flashed through her, and she pressed the phone closer to her ear. Did he mean he'd enjoyed their kiss, or the musical?

  "That's the main reason I want to stay a little longer. After last night, I'm convinced Amy needs me. She needs to know I'm her father."

  He was right. But that didn't alleviate her worry.

  "Come with me to the caves and we can discuss it."

  She rubbed her forehead. “What time will you be here?"

  "How about as soon as you get home from school?"

  "Fine."

  She set her phone down, though she wanted to beat herself upside the head with it. What was with her? The sound of his voice made her pulse dance. What had happened to her vow, only hours ago, to keep her head about this?

  She leaned against the counter behind the cash register. And darn it, in the rush of their conversation, she'd forgotten to mention his reporter friend was looking for him.

  * * * *

  Daniel pulled up in the driveway just as Gretchen unloaded Amy's schoolwork from her book bag onto the kitchen table.

  Amy ran to let him in the front door.

  Gretchen glanced his way. Their eyes met, and his lips slid into a grin. He must have had his window down in the car, since his hair bent in more willful waves than usual. Plus, the sun had lightly tanned his skin these past few days. Sheesh, how much better could he look?

  "What else have you been up to today?” She tried to sound casual around the nervous energy building inside her. “Other than hanging with Wally."

  "I ran this morning. Then I had coffee. Then went to your newspaper office and placed an ad for the festival. After what you and Wally told me yesterday about the caves, with the scientist and the rare fish, I came up with this macabre sort of tour centered around the casket company and the caves.” He raised his dark brows. “What do you think?"

  "Sounds good.” She moved about the kitchen, preparing Amy's snack. And thank goodness for the chore, which kept them from intimate conversation. Hiding how he affected her had become more and more difficult. “Could you get it in other papers, too? We need tourists, not locals."

  "I put it in Cincinnati's and Lexington's.” He frowned slightly as he leaned against the counter. “If I'd known about it sooner, I could've done more widespread advertising."

  "How can you have time for this? Don't you have to get back to your own work?"

  "You sound like my brother.” He pulled out a chair at her breakfast table and sat. “He keeps calling and reminding me I'm losing money."

  "That doesn't make you anxious to leave?"

  "No, because I need to stay with Amy longer.” His gaze lowered and settled on her mouth a moment before he lifted it again.

  Uh oh. He's moving toward becoming a part of Amy's life.

  She struggled around a dry throat and got out, “What's the bottom line here, Daniel? What exactly do you want?"

  He shook his head slowly. “I'm not sure. This is all new to me. I rarely take a vacation, much less visit a small town to see my daughter."

  She crossed her arms—as if that'd stop the blast of fear assaulting her. His staying would only delay his inevitable leaving. While she fretted over that, she suddenly remembered his visiting friend. Maybe he'd come to take Daniel back to Chicago. “There was a guy in town today asking for you. He went by the café, and then he came to see if you were with me at the shop."

  He frowned. “Who was it?"

  "He wouldn't say. Eula thinks he's a reporter."

  "What'd he look like?"

  "About your height. Thin, with dark blond hair. And he seemed pretty hyper."

  His frown deepened at first, and then she thought she saw a glint of recognition before he shrugged. “I don't know how anyone outside of my agency could've gotten wind of where I was. The only person I told was my brother, Sam."

  "This guy knew we'd been together in Chicago."

  "Like I said, I don't know how."

  "So you don't have a friend who's a reporter? You didn't tell him about us?"

  "Are you kidding? This is personal business. I don't discuss my personal life with anyone. I'm not a publicity hound."

  "Really?” She went to the cabinets, pulled out her shoebox of clippings and handed it to him.

  Lifting out a few of the carefully trimmed photos, he murmured, “Ugly mugshot.” Tossing them back in the box, he looked at her with his brows raised. “Why do you have these?"

  "They're for Amy.” She took the box. As she returned it to its hiding place, she said, “It was for later, when she asked about you."

  "Then I'm even happier about coming here, so she can know who I really am.” Sincerity shone in his gaze. “The truth is it's easier for me to be around people
I barely know than to be here, getting to know my daughter. Getting to know you."

  She couldn't help herself. That insistent tone he used when talking about Amy made it hard for her to breathe and made her hands clammy. “Once you tell Amy, it can't be undone. Have you thought about what it would mean to your lifestyle? Do you really think it's fair to tear her away from the only parent she's ever known?"

  He jerked his chin back. “What kind of guy do you think I am?"

  "One with powerful lawyers who get you what you want."

  He closed his eyes. When he opened them again, he said, “Gretchen, please at least attempt to trust me."

  Off in the corner of the living room, Amy giggled over something on TV.

  Daniel craned his neck in that direction. “Hey, Amy, guess what? I had breakfast today. Not just cereal, but a whole, big breakfast."

  She turned and looked at him. Then she came and stood right at his knee. Her expression was as sober as a judge when she aimed the cookie she'd been nibbling on at him. “Me, too."

  "Yeah, but I haven't eaten a real bacon-and-egg breakfast since I was a kid."

  She pursed her lips. “That's not true."

  "It is.” He placed his hand over his heart. “I promise."

  "Then it's silly."

  "Silly to wait that long to enjoy breakfast, eh?” His eyes flashed with humor as he glanced at Gretchen, before turning his attention back to Amy. “Guess I just need to keep smart girls like you around to warn me when I'm about to fall into the ‘silly’ trap."

  Leaning on the counter behind them, Gretchen saw how the light in his eyes reflected in Amy's. When Amy giggled and he responded with a low chuckle, Gretchen's hesitant heart expanded. “C'mere, Amy. Let me tie those shoes again."

  "I'll do it,” Daniel offered, and bent to do the job. It took him twice as long as it would've taken Gretchen. She could have gone and taken over for him, but she didn't. She suppressed a smile, watching him struggle to form bows with his man-clumsy fingers. When he'd finished, one “rabbit's ear” was over an inch longer than the other. Gretchen swallowed back the emotion that filled her as father and daughter bent toward each other. Their similar mannerisms were so obvious to her. She couldn't believe nobody had noticed that, or at least remarked on their mirror image eyes.

  "Let's go, then,” she said. Maybe a little fresh air would clear her head.

  Amy hurried out the door. Gretchen and Daniel followed, and before they reached the SUV and Amy, he said, “Mind if I ask you something personal?” His tone seemed lower, more tentative.

  She glanced sideways at him. “What?"

  "Are you in love with Joel?"

  "No.” A rush of nervous energy ran through her. “Why?"

  "Just wondering.” He never looked at her. He just dropped the subject and went to hold her door. But she thought she heard him whistling as he went around to the driver's side.

  * * * *

  Eula was waiting for them when they arrived, cane in one hand and an old kerosene lantern in the other. She'd cuffed her jeans and donned a pale blue sweatshirt that matched her eyes and showcased her white puff-cloud hair. She'd also tied on her hiking boots. “Cile's looking for you in the kitchen, missy,” she said to Amy in her gruff tone. But there was tenderness in her eyes when the child hugged her around the middle. “I think she brought home some of that ridiculous ice cream with gumdrop fishes in it."

  As if on cue, Cile opened the front door.

  Amy tore off toward her.

  "Here, young man. Take this thing for me.” Eula swung the lantern toward Daniel. “It's heavy."

  Gretchen reached out to help her move forward then, only to receive a hard look and a curt, “I'm not ready for one of Wally's caskets just yet.” She managed fine then, barely putting much weight at all on the cane.

  Still, Gretchen thought Eula moved a tad slower today. Under the weather, perhaps. She stayed close by, and Daniel brought up the rear as they started out across the yard.

  Gazing over the vast expanse of property, Daniel noted, “We could drive this in your pickup."

  Eula eyed him. “Walking's good for you."

  "True."

  "By the way, some reporter man is looking for you."

  "So I hear.” He exchanged a look with Gretchen. “It seems he found everyone but me."

  He listened as Gretchen explained how he had no idea who this guy might be. But sharp-eyed Eula glanced back at him long enough for him to see the speculation in her eyes and tightly closed mouth.

  He was being paranoid, assuming suspicion this way. Still, by Gretchen's description, this mystery “reporter” stalking him could be his old nemesis, tabloid photographer Eddie Artis. Eddie had covered his divorce, lurking around corners and taking potshots that cast him as the guilty party. But why here? Why now?

  Worst case scenario, whoever it was could somehow blow his chances with Gretchen and Amy. He clenched his jaw.

  As they crested a small hill, Eula pointed with her cane. “There! See the cave there? That's Lion's Den. Then there's a string of little ones behind it that we call Ants’ Hills."

  Daniel nodded approvingly. Lion's Den looked the way he'd expected it to—a wide, dark opening in the stone-encrusted hill. Eula motioned for him to step forward and hold up the lantern. He did, casting light over craggy stone and exposing shadowy crevices. Upon closer look, one great shadow became an opening about five feet high and two feet wide where they could enter the hill.

  With Eula up front now and in control of the lantern, Daniel motioned for Gretchen to precede him inside so he could watch their backs. They picked their way along, with the sides of the cave cool and hard and close to their bodies. “Have you been in here before?” he murmured in Gretchen's ear.

  "A few times.” She looked over her shoulder at him and smiled. “It was a favorite make-out spot when we were in school."

  With his own make-out session with her last night fresh in his mind, he caught her arm and held her back a few steps. As Eula moved further into the cave, he said a low, “Why'd we have to bring her along?"

  "That was your idea.” With a grin and a lifted brow, Gretchen turned and hurried to catch up to Eula.

  Daniel followed, touching the cold rock around him and hoping it'd cool him off. He wanted nothing more than to ditch their guide and spirit Gretchen away, deep into the cave, where he would make love to her. Hadn't he been thinking about that from the moment he stood in her yard and she came up in those ugly slippers to pull her dog off him?

  Why hadn't he figured Gretchen might know her way around the caves?

  They rounded a corner then, and the scene in front of him yanked even the lust from his mind for the moment. He'd never seen anything like it. The pool was black and liquid, stirred only where water dripped from stalactites overhead. It was cool, quiet, awe-inspiring.

  What would it be like to make love to Gretchen here, on the banks of this beautiful water? Afterward, they could cool their bodies with a swim.

  "Is the water just like a freshwater lake?” he asked.

  "It's pure enough. But it's very cold.” Eula's rough voice echoed off the dank walls. “And slippery. Watch your step."

  He scanned the area one last time as they started away from the pool. It really was a pristine place, an oasis from the outside world.

  "I can see why you'd want to preserve this place,” he told Eula. “It's beautiful.” Leaning forward, he murmured into Gretchen's hair, “I can see why people come here for lovemaking, too. It's very private.” He couldn't gauge her response, because it was dark and she didn't look at him.

  Moments later, they stepped out of the cave's mouth and into bright sunshine.

  Eula headed straight for a crop of boulders, sat on a large one and fanned herself with her hand.

  Gretchen went to stand beside her. “Are you okay?"

  She nodded.

  "I'll take Daniel to Ants’ Hills while you rest. We won't be long."

  Eula nodded again,
and waved them off. “Gonna sit here and catch my breath."

  "Sure she'll be all right?” Daniel asked as they started away.

  "Huh! That woman's got more determination than most people our age."

  He followed her over the next set of hills. Finally they came to a little range with three vertical openings into caves. “Do you want to find out what's behind Door Number One, Two, or Three?” she asked, humor lighting her eyes.

  "Lady, I'm with you,” he said in a voice gravelly from thinking about make-out caves, and lovemaking. “Lead the way."

  "That's what I like. A compliant man."

  "Hey, if it were up to me, I'd be beside the pool in the Lion's Den with you, behaving like the lion."

  She laughed, a sound as light and gentle as the trickles of water down the walls of the cave. Taking up his hand, she said, “Come on, then.” The thrill of the adventure sparked in her expressive eyes. “This might not be as impressive, but you need to see it, too."

  I just need to see you. I just need to be with you.

  He followed her into the cave, this one narrower at the beginning than the last, and darker. She held the lantern and moved adeptly over the smooth stone floor in front of him, since once again there was only room for single file. Minutes later, they stepped into an inner room ornate with icicle-like mineral deposits, cool and close. The entire space was nothing bigger than a walk-in closet, and a small one at that. There was room for both of them to stand or sit, but that was it. No cavorting. But he didn't wish to cavort. He just wanted to kiss Gretchen in this place where the pesky Joel couldn't pop in and break it up.

  She set the lantern down and turned to face him.

  It was so dark, he missed seeing the marine blue of her irises. Still, he'd caught the teasing shine in her eyes when she swung the lantern toward her earlier. He wanted to bridge the gap between them, but something held him in place. What if she turned away from him? What if she made it clear that any advances on his part weren't welcome? He hadn't analyzed the kiss on the porch before he tried it. Why the hesitation now?

  "I can't figure you out, Daniel.” Her low tone bounced off the close walls and echoed sweetly in his ear. “What is it you want?"

  I want you to come over here.