Bertie tossed some cherry tomatoes into the salad bowl. “Maybe she’s a little like Amelia, in a way, not having a daddy growing up? I think Amelia feels a little lost, too.”
And there it was, what his mother really wanted to get at. The very new relationship between him and his daughter. “Amelia has a daddy. Unfortunately, her mother—and believe me, I use that term loosely—was the only one who knew it.”
He heard a noise behind him, a small rush of air, and turned to see his daughter, Amelia. Just her back and a whirl of dark brown hair as she stormed out of the room, slamming the door behind her. Joe stared at the closed door, the perfect metaphor for their relationship. “She wasn’t at school today when I got there. She walked home alone again.”
He felt his mother’s hand on his back. “She’ll come around, bud. She’s had a lot of change to deal with. All that anger hides how she really feels.”
“She hasn’t spoken a word to me in the two weeks that she’s been here.” He had a lot of ground to make up with Amelia, he knew that. He may not be ready to be a dad, but he was one, and he didn’t want to screw it up. But where in the world did you start when you’d missed twelve years?
“Joe, she was dropped off at the door with a note and a backpack full of clothes that didn’t fit her. Give her some time. You weren’t exactly a bundle of joy when you first came here.”
That was an accurate statement. He paused for a second. “Did you ever regret it, taking me on?”
She shut the refrigerator door and grabbed his face between her hands, like she used to do when he was younger. “Darling boy, I would never regret you. You are my son in every way that counts. It’s tricky now, but soon you’ll be finding your way. I promise.”
Fighting the knot in his throat, he said, “I would do anything to be able to go back and make it right for her.”
After high school, he’d gone straight into basic training. He’d been in Afghanistan when Lori Ann was having his baby. She could’ve gotten word to him, but she didn’t try. He had no idea Amelia even existed until she showed up on his mom’s doorstep and he’d seen his own blue eyes staring up at him.
“I know you would do anything for her, and one day Amelia will understand that, too.” Constantly moving, she stirred the okra and tapped the wooden spoon on the side of the pan. “It’s normal, Joe, to have feelings and questions about your childhood. You’ve had a rough few months. It’s no wonder you have questions.”
Maybe that was what brought Claire to Red Hill Springs, the questions that she’d never had the answers to.
“How long did you stay out there at the plantation? Was she nice?”
Long used to his mother’s seeming ability to mind-read, Joe shrugged, but he remembered the look on Claire’s face as she’d stared at her inheritance. “Her name is Claire. She seemed nice enough. A little thrown by the condition of the place. It’s falling down.”
“Is she staying at a hotel in Spanish Fort?”
“No, I think she’s staying there at the plantation.”
“That place is a dump.” Bertie pointed the spoon his way. He watched it warily as he sneaked a taste of the limas from the edge of the pan closest to him. “Go pick her up for dinner and tell her to bring her stuff. She can sleep in Wynn’s room.”
“Mom, I’m not sure that’s a good idea.” He rubbed his shoulder, sending a sidelong glance at the firmly closed door to the living room. “We have a lot going on right now.”
“We do.” His mother nodded in agreement. “But no one should show up in town and be left without a hot meal or a clean place to lay her head.”
He didn’t want to get involved. He wasn’t like his mother. Trusting, having faith, it didn’t come easily to him. A wary sense of self-preservation had been ingrained in him as a kid. Then he fought a war on foreign soil. And then he became a cop.
But he picked up his keys and said, “You’re sure about this?”
“Do I look undecided?” His mom had blond hair cut into a straight bob at her chin. She always looked perfectly groomed, even standing over a hot stove, or after a long day on her feet in the café. What she didn’t look was indecisive.
Arguing with his mother was pointless. Once Bertie took on a project, the best thing to do was get out of the way. Even his father could never say no to her, which was how they ended up with two cats, four dogs and an extra kid.
Now she was wanting to take in the mayor’s daughter, and that was the last thing he needed.
Chapter Two
Claire leaned over the kitchen table, her pen moving almost as fast as her mind as she made an action list for the next day. A small mountain of chocolate wrappers smushed into little silver balls lined the table. The shock had faded and been replaced by a certainty that no matter how hard this was, she wasn’t going to back down. Of course, electricity would help.
The house was completely dark now except for the kitchen, which was lit by the several dozen candles she’d found in the closets around the house. A large room that ran the width of the house with a fireplace at one end, the kitchen had real potential as a gathering place.
At current count, there were one hundred and forty-two things on the to-do list and that was just for the house. It didn’t begin to cover the mountain of paperwork and red tape she had to tackle.
A knock at the open door was loud in the too-quiet house. She jumped to her feet, her hand at her chest. Through the screen, she saw the guy from earlier.
Joe, he’d said his name was. He was still dressed the same, except for the boots, which she hadn’t noticed before. They were scuffed and dusty and well-worn, which made her think there might be some hope for him. He didn’t have the sunglasses on, but they were in his T-shirt pocket.
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you. You were pretty deep in thought.” He gave her a little apologetic shrug.
She walked to the door. “I didn’t expect to see you again so soon. Is there a problem?”
He shook his head. “No, not at all. You look busy.”
She’d changed into different jeans—ones without a stain—and a soft, loose T-shirt. Not so fancy, but at least it was clean. “I’m making a list. A very long list.”
“May I come in?”
She hesitated before she unlatched the screen, but it wasn’t like he hadn’t been alone with her in the house this afternoon and this wasn’t the big city. People were probably neighborly here. She pushed the door open and he stepped inside the room. “I have a few Diet Cokes left in my cooler if you’d like one.”
“No, thanks, I’m good.” He tested a chair before he sat down in it. “What’s first on the list?”
“Getting more candles. Or even better, electricity.”
The corner of his mouth kicked up again. “That does seem like a priority.”
“Right?” She stacked the papers on the table and watched as the shadows from the candles danced across his face. “Before it got dark, I was able to look around a little bit. Most of the house is structurally sound, but all of it needs work if it’s going to be livable.”
“It sounds like a huge undertaking.”
She appreciated that he didn’t try to sugarcoat the truth. It was a huge undertaking. Gigantic. She blinked. “Yeah. My mom wasn’t afraid of picking up a hammer and taught me to be the same way, so I can do some of the work myself, but even so, the timetable is going to be tight.”
“It’s a beautiful old place. It will be great when it’s all fixed up.” His eyes were gentle and hers stung, again.
She told herself to get a grip. “Thanks. I think it can be, too. So what brings you out this way again?”
Joe cleared his throat. “My mom always cooks enough food for the entire block and she wanted me to invite you to dinner. It’s also possible that she wants to get a good look at you before the
rest of the town does.”
“That’s nice... I think.” The candles flickered in the breeze from the open window and she glanced around the dim room. “You live with your mom?”
A bark of laughter escaped. “Yes, thanks for mentioning that. I wasn’t planning on staying in Red Hill Springs long enough to need my own place. My daughter is living with me now, though, so I’m looking. It’s hard to find a short-term rental in a town this size.”
“What brought you back to Red Hill Springs?”
“My dad died. I got shot.” He shrugged, like that kind of thing happened every day.
“Were you hurt badly? How long are you in town for? How old is your daughter?” So many questions. He was so much less predictable than she’d thought when she first met him. Those boots didn’t lie.
“I was shot in the line of duty. I’m a cop, like my dad was. I’ve been here for four months rehabbing my shoulder and will be here at least two more. And Amelia’s twelve.”
She was quiet for a moment, absorbing all the information. “Does your daughter like it here?”
Joe grimaced. “I wouldn’t normally lead with this information, but if you’re around town at all, you’ll hear it. Her mother—” He stumbled a little on that word but quickly recovered. “Her mother decided to go into rehab and dropped her off at my mom’s with a note and a backpack. I didn’t know she existed.”
Dark lashes had dropped over his eyes and she couldn’t see his expression. But the tone of his voice sounded like shame and that wasn’t okay. “Rehab is good, I guess, right?”
“If that’s where she actually went. I’ve checked all the ones within a few hours’ drive and she isn’t registered at any of them. She made a bad mistake, but I’m not sorry my daughter is with me.” He made a face. “Amelia’s not too happy about it, but that’s another story.”
Claire didn’t know why she felt such a kinship with this man she didn’t know, but there was something. Maybe it was that he was starting his life over with a daughter and she was starting over, period.
Maybe.
She looked at him, considered. And then thought, why not? “There’s a little cabin on the property, on the other side of the pond from here. It’s in pretty bad shape from what I can tell, but if you want to look at it tomorrow, you’re welcome to it.”
His head snapped up. “How much do you want for rent?”
“We can talk about the rent after you see it. It’s not much, but it has a pretty view.”
“I really don’t know how long I’ll be here, but thank you, it’s a kind offer.” He stood. “We should be getting back for dinner. And I forgot to mention my mom also said to tell you to bring your bag and you can sleep in my sister’s room.”
The thought of not spending the night on the floor in this creepy, silent house was appealing, but she didn’t move. “That’s really not necessary. I don’t want to put your mother out.”
“You won’t be putting her out, believe me. Plus, she insisted and I’ll get in trouble if you don’t.”
The thought of this big, muscular man getting in trouble with his mom amused her. “I do appreciate it, but this is going to be my home. I think I better get used to it.”
In the distance, an animal howled. The haunting sound hung in the air. Claire’s heart began to pound. “What was that?”
“Sounded like a coyote. They’re opportunistic hunters, but you’re probably fine in here.”
She couldn’t really see his expression across the room in the candlelight, but he seemed dead serious. Maybe she should go to stay at his mother’s house.
No. Maybe it was pure stubbornness, but she was staying. “I’ll be fine. Please tell your mom I appreciate the offer and I’ll look forward to meeting her.”
He looked skeptical but didn’t argue. “If you’re sure.”
She wasn’t sure at all. “I am.”
“Okay, then, I’ll see you around.” He swung the screen door open and a few minutes later, all she could see was the taillights of his truck headed away from her house.
The coyote howled again, and this time he was joined by his friends. She closed the door and locked it. It was going to be a long night.
* * *
Joe lifted the cup of coffee and savored a moment of peace before the battle began again. The battle for ground with Amelia, the battle to rehab his shoulder and regain his range of motion. He clenched his fist and uncurled his fingers one at a time.
In the kitchen, pans clanged, bacon sizzled and Martin, the cook, yelled, “Order up.” His mother bustled behind the counter, a ready smile and a fresh cup of coffee for everyone.
Behind the silver aviators, he watched his twelve-year-old daughter across the Formica table from him. Her eyes were on her cell phone, thumbs flying. She might as well have been in another state for all the attention she was paying him. “What do you want for breakfast, Amelia?”
She didn’t look up.
Lanna, best waitress at the Hilltop, stopped at their table. “Hey, Joe, what’ll it be?”
They’d been friends since middle school when they used to sneak behind the gym for a smoke. She’d written him letters every single month while he’d been overseas. “I’ll have my usual and Amelia will have blueberry pancakes.”
Lanna topped off his coffee from the pot on her tray and raised one perfectly arched eyebrow. “Pancakes today. All right, then. Be back in a jiff.”
Every day Joe insisted that Amelia join him for breakfast before school at his mother’s diner. Every day she refused to eat. Every day he ordered her something different off the menu, figuring eventually he’d order something she wouldn’t be able to refuse.
“How’s school going? Have you gotten to know any of your teachers?”
No answer.
“My favorite teacher was Mr. McAdams. We called him the Mac Attack. He brought doughnuts to our homeroom every Friday.” He looked up as Lanna brought their food and slid it onto the table, along with a warm pitcher of maple syrup.
“There you go. Y’all holler if you need anything, okay? Bertie said to tell you she put extra blueberries in the pancakes, just for you, Amelia.”
Amelia still didn’t look up, but he saw her swallow hard. The edges of the pancakes were crisp and buttery, the scent of blueberries and warm maple syrup mingling in the air. It had to be getting to her.
The chimes at the entrance jingled and Claire Conley came through the door, light brown ponytail swinging. She had jeans and a sweatshirt on, but as she got closer, he saw the edge of a flannel pajama top sticking out from under the sweatshirt. There was a crease in her cheek from a pillow. She obviously needed coffee more than he did. As she caught sight of him, he held a mug up to her, an offering.
Claire cupped it in both hands and took a long, greedy sip, sighing in appreciation. “Thanks. Obviously, I didn’t think this through. No electricity means no coffee. And I didn’t get to sleep until about four. Crazy coyotes.”
“Claire Conley, this is my daughter, Amelia.”
Amelia still didn’t speak, but she did look up to check Claire out.
Claire smiled at her, seemingly oblivious to the tension between the two of them. “I just came in to pick up some breakfast. I have to get back to the farm. My horse is being trailered in today. Amelia, you’ll have to come and see him.”
Amelia’s blue eyes widened. “Is she pretty?”
“Yes, very handsome. His name is Freckles.” Claire dug her cell phone out of her back pocket and showed Amelia a picture.
“He’s awesome. I want to be a vet one day.”
Joe looked from Amelia to Claire. Amelia had just said more words in the last sixty seconds than Joe had heard in two weeks. He jumped into the conversation. “I’ll pick you up after school and we’ll go see Claire’s horse, if you want.”
She shot him a quelling look, grabbed her phone and shrugged into her backpack at the faint sound of a bell ringing in the distance. “It’s time for school. See you later, Claire.”
Watching as she crossed the street to the school, Joe couldn’t help but think she looked so small with that enormous backpack. He turned back to Claire. “I can’t believe you got her to talk. She’s been on a conversation strike.”
She shrugged and he waved at the bench across from him. “Feel free to eat the pancakes. She didn’t touch them. She’s on an eating strike, too.”
Sliding onto the red vinyl bench across from him, Claire looked up, startled. “She’s not eating? For how long?”
“Don’t worry, she eats. Just not with me. She doesn’t trust me and, really, I don’t blame her. She thought I didn’t want anything to do with her for twelve years.”
Lanna slid a to-go box onto the table in front of Joe. “For the pancakes. Coffee for you, miss?”
“Claire Conley. It’s nice to meet you. I’d love some coffee, thanks.”
“Claire...got it. I’m Lanna.” The light dawned in Lanna’s eyes as she poured a mug for Claire and placed some cream on the table. “You’re the mayor’s daughter. No one even knew the mayor had a daughter. Everyone’s talking about it. Need anything else, just yell.”
“It was a closed adoption, so I didn’t know the mayor was my father, either, until recently. I guess my arrival will be fueling the town gossip for a while.” Claire’s eyes sparkled with amusement as Lanna hustled back to the kitchen.
“No worries. Pretty sure Amelia and I still occupy the top spot.” Joe cleared his throat. “So, the coyotes kept you awake?”
“I didn’t even know coyotes were a thing, but I looked it up on the internet on my phone. There are hordes of them.” She shuddered. “But they’re afraid of donkeys, so guess who will be getting a couple as soon as the funds allow?” Claire grinned and shoved a huge bite of blueberry pancakes into her mouth.
The Dad Next Door Page 2