Hero Dad

by Marta Perry

  He leaned against the door frame. “Do you think we could talk without a chain between us?”

  She ought to leave the chain right where it was, but she couldn’t think of any logical reason to do so. She released the chain and opened the door.

  “Sorry. Come in.”

  She took a step back, feeling the need for some space between them. The burden of the secret she carried was so heavy it must show in her face.

  He closed the door and stood with his hand still on the knob. “Look, I just wanted to be sure you’re all right. You seemed so upset when you left the house.”

  Upset. Yes, that pretty much covered it.

  “I’m fine.” Well, that certainly wasn’t enough to make him go away. “It was obviously a family problem. I didn’t want to intrude.”

  “That doesn’t really explain why you were so upset.”

  “I care about you.” He ought to hear the ring of truth in that. “All of you,” she added hurriedly. “A friend would be upset for another friend. You’d be upset if I were in trouble, wouldn’t you?”

  His face softened. “I guess that’s true.”

  He was accepting it. She felt as if she could breathe again. “Then you can see why—”

  But Seth was looking over her shoulder, his expression tightening. She didn’t have to turn to know what he was looking at. Her suitcase, open on the bed.

  He took a quick stride toward it, as if to confirm what he was seeing. Then he swung to look at her.

  “You’re leaving.”

  Her throat felt tight, and she had to clear it before she could speak. “Something came up.”

  “And you were going to leave, just like that. Without saying goodbye.”

  “I—I was going to call you. To say goodbye, I mean.”

  That didn’t sound convincing, even to her. She could see the suspicion in his eyes.

  “So it’s just a coincidence that you have to leave just when we’ve found out about this private detective.”

  The longing to tell him the truth burned on her tongue. But she couldn’t speak. If her father knew about Davy, then Seth would have to know the truth. But if he didn’t, if this was all some bizarre effort on her father’s part to control her, then it would be far safer for Seth if he didn’t.

  “I’m sorry you think that.” She tried to speak calmly, even though her heart was thudding and her hands felt like ice. “I’m your friend, Seth. I’d never intentionally do anything to hurt you.”

  “And you didn’t have anything to do with hiring this private detective.”

  “No!” That came out with the conviction of truth. “Of course not.”

  Something in her tone must have gotten through to him, because his expression eased. “Sorry. It just seemed as if the coincidences were piling up pretty high.”

  She took a steadying breath, choosing her words as if she were choosing her steps through a minefield.

  “I wish I could help.” She waved toward the suitcase. “As far as leaving is concerned, I need to see my editor about the story.”

  She needed to tell her there wouldn’t be any story.

  “This is goodbye, then.” He looked at her steadily, as if assessing the truth of her words.

  “I hope not for good. I hope to come back for a few more days after I settle this situation.”

  She hoped it. She didn’t think it would happen, but she did hope it.

  She held out her hand to him. “Goodbye for now, Seth. I’m grateful we had this opportunity to work together.” The cool tone cost a great deal to achieve.

  He studied her face for a long moment. Then he took her hand, clasping it firmly. It felt as if he held her heart.

  “Goodbye, Julie. Call and let me know when you’re coming back.”

  “I will.” Go, Seth. Please go while I can still hold onto my composure.

  He nodded, almost as if he’d heard her thought, and turned toward the door. He took one step before wheeling around and coming toward her.

  Before she could guess his intent, he’d grasped her arms and kissed her.

  And then he was gone before she could regain her composure enough to say a word.

  Chapter Ten

  She’d gotten here too quickly, that was all Julie could think. The security gates slid open, and she pulled between the twin pillars that marked the drive to the house. The streets in this section of Baltimore were lined with fine old houses that sat discreetly behind the walls and trees that hid them from view.

  The Alexander mansion was generally conceded to be the finest example of Greek Revival architecture in the city. As she pulled to the sweep of gravel at the portico, it struck her for the first time that the mansion looked more like a mausoleum than a home.

  Breathe, she reminded herself, and got out of the car. She’d driven through the night to get to the city, too upset after that encounter with Seth to linger in Suffolk. She’d gone straight to her apartment and collapsed into bed, unable to go through any more of her nighttime rituals than a mumbled prayer.

  She’d slept like the dead, thank goodness. When the alarm rang she’d called her father’s secretary, learned he was spending the day at home and made an appointment to see him at ten.

  She glanced at her watch. Nine fifty-five. She raised the heavy brass knocker on the pristine white door and let it fall. Her stomach gave a familiar, protesting lurch.

  The door was opened by the current secretary, who murmured in hushed tones appropriate for a mortuary that Mr. Alexander awaited her in the study.

  Of course it would be the study. That was where their father called them to express his disapproval for whatever minor infraction had caught his eye. There had always been something. Neither she nor Lisa had ever managed to measure up to his requirements.

  She hesitated before the door. Please, Lord. She didn’t have to finish the prayer. Surely her Heavenly Father knew by now the armor she needed to confront her earthly one.

  She straightened, hand on the knob. She wasn’t a trembling eight-year-old any longer. She was a successful professional woman with a career of her own. Oddly enough, that didn’t make her feel any better.

  Then she thought of Davy, and a wave of love swept through her. For him, she could do this. She opened the door.

  Her father sat behind the heavily carved mahogany desk that had looked enormous to her when she was a child. Gray hair, gray suit, gray eyes—everything about Ronald Alexander was gray.

  She crossed the Oriental carpet to the visitor’s chair. He continued to write as if he hadn’t heard her.

  She sat down, crossing her ankles with an assumption of poise. “Good morning, Father.”

  For just an instant she pictured Davy racing toward Seth, screaming, “Daddy, Daddy,” at the top of his lungs. That had never happened here.

  “Julia.” He placed the cap back on the pen before looking at her. “I understood you were not returning until next week.” His tone implied that it was inconsiderate to arrive earlier.

  “I had to see you right away.”

  His steel-gray eyebrows lifted. “May I ask why?”

  She’d figured out the best way of approaching this—a way that didn’t reveal anything about Davy. Now she just had to implement it.

  “I want to know why a private investigator is following me around.”

  He took his time about answering, pinning her with a frosty look. Finally he put his hands flat on the polished surface. “You know the answer to that, don’t you? The investigator isn’t interested in you. Just in my grandson.”

  Her throat tightened until it was an effort to breathe. He knew. He knew about Davy. How had he found out?

  She struggled to focus. How wasn’t as important as what he intended to do about it. About Davy.

  She had to protect Davy. Fear for him gave strength and passion to her voice. “You can’t interfere in his life. I won’t let you.”

  “Really, Julia.” He gave her a contemptuous look. “Such dramatics are hardly ne
cessary. I want the same thing you do for the child.”

  “I don’t think that’s likely.”

  He sighed. “I’ll spell it out for you. I want to be sure my grandson is in a happy, secure situation. Isn’t that what you want? Isn’t that the purpose of all your cloak-and-dagger antics?”

  “You’ve known all along what I was doing.” When she was a child, she’d thought he could see around corners. Maybe she hadn’t been far off.

  “I make it my business to keep track of you.”

  She should have realized that. A man in his position didn’t want to be embarrassed by his offspring, particularly not if he had some sensitive business deal pending.

  He shrugged, impatient with a moment’s silence. “That doesn’t matter. What does is that our interests coincide for once. We both want to provide for the boy.”

  “Without interfering,” she said quickly. “He has a good life. There’s nothing you or I can give him that he doesn’t already have.”

  “Really, Julia, it’s time you outgrew your childish ideas of me. I only want to provide for the boy’s future. I won’t live forever.” A trace of what might have been regret appeared in his eyes. “I want to be sure the child receives his appropriate share of my estate.”

  “He’s a three-year-old. He doesn’t need millions.”

  “In trust for his future, then. That’s where you come in.”

  “How?” All her alarms went up. He wanted something from her.

  “Just to continue what you’re doing. Spend time with those people. Get to know them. Then report to me on how I can best provide for him. Who should be appointed to administer a trust, for instance.”

  “His father,” she said instantly, and the imprint of Seth’s lips seemed to linger on hers.

  “Who should handle it if something happened to the father? He’s in a dangerous profession, after all.” He spread out his hands. “This seems a small enough thing to ask of you.”

  She looked at him uncertainly. “You give me your word you’re not going to interfere.”

  “I’ve never found it necessary to lie to you. Do as I ask, and I’ll call off the private investigator.”

  She paused, looking for trouble spots. There didn’t seem to be any. Her father was offering to do voluntarily exactly what she might wish.

  “If you feel this way about it, I don’t see why you don’t contact them yourself.”

  He made a small expression of distaste. “I have no desire to do so. I don’t want to know these people your sister preferred to her own family. I certainly don’t want them coming to me for money.”

  “They wouldn’t do that.”

  “Don’t be naive. Of course they would. Just do as I ask. No one need know of the child’s connection to me until my will is read.” He smiled thinly. “That should make you happy. You’ve gone to enough trouble to assure that they don’t know who you are.”

  She had. And now she was stuck with that.

  Still, this seemed a better outcome than anything she might have come up with. She took a deep breath.

  “Very well, Father. I agree.”

  She’d stayed in the city for several days before making the trip back to Suffolk. She’d thought she could get her head together, regain her composure, go back to the person she’d been before Seth kissed her. Maybe she was as naive as her father insisted.

  She parked in front of the Flanagan house and sat for a moment. Dusk shadowed the lawn and made deeper, blacker shadows under the shrubbery. But warm yellow light glowed from the wide windows across the front of the house, inviting her.

  Home, she thought. Foolish as it sounded, she felt as if she’d come home.

  Well, anything would look welcoming next to that chilly, austere mansion where she’d been so unhappy. She picked up the manila envelope of enlargements she’d brought. That was her excuse for being here.

  She slid out of the car, and caution mixed with her anticipation. For all she knew, the Flanagans might have learned who that private detective had been working for. They might have found out who she was.

  If that was true, she’d know it the moment she saw Seth’s face. Then she’d have to figure out how to pick up the pieces that remained after the inevitable explosion.

  If not, well, she wasn’t exactly back where she’d started. She no longer had to worry about her father finding out about Davy. She just had to figure out how to do what he wanted.

  Her stomach gave a protesting lurch as she mounted the porch steps. She was taking a risk in believing her father meant what he said. Still, as he’d said, why would he bother to lie to her?

  She could still say no to him, even though the thought made her stomach heave. She didn’t want to feel like a spy for him. But if she did say no, what might he resort to in order to find out what he wanted?

  Trying valiantly to block that out of her thoughts, she rapped at the door.

  Seth opened the door, and his face lit with pleasure at the sight of her. “Julie. You’re back.” He drew her inside, holding onto her hands. “I’m glad you’re here.”

  “Maybe I should have called first.” At least Seth’s greeting proved that he hadn’t learned any unpleasant truths about her while she was gone.

  “Don’t be silly. You’re welcome any time.” His hands rested warmly on her shoulders for a moment as he took her jacket.

  “It’s quiet.” She glanced around the living room, empty except for the two of them. A fire burned in the fireplace, and the newspaper tossed to the floor beside a wing chair told her Seth had been relaxing in front of it.

  “Unusual, isn’t it?” He grinned, ushering her to the couch and sitting down next to her. He studied her face, sobering. “You look tired. Didn’t things go the way you expected in Baltimore?”

  The question was so on-target that it pierced her heart. If only she could tell him how true that was.

  “Not exactly, but it’s going to be all right.” She hoped and prayed that was true.

  She realized she was still holding the envelope. She handed it to him. “Your mother mentioned something about wanting some enlargements of the photos of Davy, so I made some up for her. And a composite. I hope that’s okay.”

  He slid them out. “Okay? She’ll be thrilled.” He touched the image of his son’s face gently. “It’s too bad she’s not here, but everyone went to a supper at church.”

  “Everyone but you.”

  “I’m glad I was home.” He put his hand over hers, and his touch traveled straight to her heart.

  She’d thought those days apart had cleared her mind. She’d resolved that she couldn’t let herself be emotionally involved with Seth when she couldn’t be honest with him. That resolution seemed to be hanging by a thread.

  “Won’t Brendan get after you for skipping?” She tried for a light tone.

  He shook his head. “Davy’s down with a cold, so I didn’t want him up late.”

  “I’m so sorry.” Little kids caught colds, she reminded herself. Don’t overreact.

  Seth leaned back, turning so that he faced her, just a few inches away. Her breath caught.

  “Are we all right? When you left so quickly, I didn’t know what to think.”

  He’d thought she was responsible for the private detective, she remembered. Her heart winced. Did he still harbor suspicions about that?

  “I’m sorry it worked out that way. I was upset.” She forced a smile. “Partly about work. Partly about you.”

  “Only partly?”

  The smile eased to something more natural. “Well, maybe mostly.” She sobered. There had to be a way of getting things on an even keel between them, so that no one got hurt when she left.

  Well, no one but her. That was a foregone conclusion.

  “I guess I was concerned about how quickly things were moving between us.” She said the words carefully. “I like you, but the way our lives are right now—” She gestured, leaving the rest unsaid.

  He nodded. “Your job. My job. The
fact that I’m a single father.”

  “Single father of an adorable child. I’ve grown to care about Davy.”

  I love him. If only she could be free to say the words.

  “I think he’s a pretty great kid myself.”

  “But that makes it even more important to—well, not rush things.” She searched his face. “Do you understand what I mean?”

  “I think so.” He brushed a strand of hair back from her face, and his knuckles touched her cheek. “You’re right. Unfortunately.” He smiled. “We’ll just have to—”

  A sound echoed down the stairwell—a high-pitched, shrill cough that sounded as if Davy were choking. She started to her feet, but before she could take a step, Seth was already at the stairwell. Heart pounding, she raced after him.

  Davy. Please, Lord, protect him. The prayer kept time with her running feet.

  Seth was already in Davy’s room by the time she reached the top. By the dim glow of the night-light, she saw him scoop the child up in his arms. The terrible cough shook Davy’s small body.

  “What is it? Is he choking?” She felt as if she were choking herself in her fear for him.

  Seth brushed past her and charged into the bathroom. “Croup. He’s had it before. Come and help me.”

  Her mind started working again. She hurried into the bathroom. He’d switched on the light already, and he struggled to turn on the faucets while wrapping Davy in his arms.

  “Steam,” he said abruptly. “We need lots of steam. Turn the faucets to full on and shut the door.”

  Shaking, she did what he said. Davy was crying, obviously frightened, and the cries just seemed to make that horrible barking sound worse.

  Please, Lord, please, Lord. The prayer continued to run through her mind, like a soundtrack playing behind everything else.

  Steam began to billow through the small room. Seth leaned closer to the faucet, talking soothingly to Davy.

  “It’s all right, little guy. We did this before, remember? Just try not to cry. There’s my big boy. You’ll start to feel better in a minute.” He rubbed Davy’s back in gentle, soothing circles.