Hero Dad

by Marta Perry

  He would. He didn’t realize he’d be David going up against Goliath, but without even a slingshot.

  She nodded, turning toward the door. Maybe, if she went quickly, she could reach the car before she fell apart. She grasped the doorknob.

  “Julie.” Siobhan’s voice stopped her with her hand still on the knob, her throat thick with unshed tears. “You said you were going to disappear as soon as you knew Davy was all right. Why didn’t you?”

  Honesty compelled her to look at the woman she would have liked to have called a friend.

  “I couldn’t.” Tears flooded her eyes, and she tried futilely to blink them back. “You must know why. I loved him the moment I saw him.”

  She spun away from them, yanked the door open and ran for the car.

  “Well, what do you think?”

  Seth leaned against the kitchen counter, watching his mother’s face. In the hour since Julie had run out of the house, his mother had said very little. While the rest of them went back and forth over every word that had been said, Mom had turned inward. Praying, maybe.

  She rinsed a cup slowly, put it in the rack and then turned to look at him. “I was thinking about those two girls.”

  For an instant he didn’t understand. “You mean Lisa and Julie.” Coupling their names felt odd. He hadn’t been thinking of them as siblings, like him and Ryan.

  “Their childhood must have been a bitter thing, to damage both of them so much.”

  Damage them. His mind grappled with the thought.

  “What do you mean? Lisa—well, she didn’t want to have anything to do with them, but she was okay.” Wasn’t she? “And Julie—she’s successful. Rich, I guess.”

  Her loving eyes studied his face. “It seems to me they both carried scars from their childhood.”

  He moved, trying to ease the discomfort from his soul. “It’s not as if he beat them.”

  “There are worse things you can do to a child than hit them. Make them feel unloved, for example. Make them feel unworthy of ever being loved.”

  Something cold settled deep inside him. Was that why Lisa had never been able to find happiness, even with a husband and a baby?

  His mother polished the counter with a cloth, not looking at him. “You know, I have to admire Julie.”

  “Admire her?” His mother frequently surprised him with the breadth of her ability to love, but this seemed a reach even for her. “After what she did?”

  “She was wrong to lie to us and she certainly went about things the wrong way. But look at her efforts on Davy’s behalf. She hadn’t even known he existed until recently.”

  “She definitely went the wrong way.” He’d been trying not to think of those kisses they’d shared. Had that been all part of the act?

  “And she has courage, at least. She didn’t run away from her troubles, even though it might have been easier.”

  “She still lied to us.” The thought hardened in him. “I can’t forgive that.”

  “Don’t say that, son.” Siobhan put her hand on his arm. “Don’t ever close your heart to forgiveness. It will hurt you far more than the other person.”

  His mouth curved in an involuntary smile, and he leaned over to press a kiss against her soft cheek. “You are one great mother. Have I mentioned that lately?”

  “Not often enough.” She patted his cheek. “Actually, there are a couple of things I have to thank Julie for, in spite of her deceit.”

  He lifted an eyebrow, prepared to be surprised. “What?”

  “Well, you’re not talking about making a foolish marriage for companionship any more, are you?”

  He winced. “I guess not.” Not after what he’d begun to feel for Julie. Companionship seemed pretty tepid after that.

  “And then there are the photographs. We’d never get pictures like that of Davy. We’ve got the love, but not the skill. Julie has both.”

  “If you’re saying I should forgive her just because she says she loves Davy—”

  “Not says. She doesn’t have to say. It’s clear in every picture she took.”

  “Even so.”

  She shrugged, turning away. “I was just thinking about how hurt and lonely Julie must be feeling about now. It seems to me a person who’s trying to do the right thing doesn’t deserve that.”

  Julie had taken a hot shower, changed into her most comfortable sweat suit and downed a cup of hot tea. Now she curled up on the loveseat in the tiny living room of her suite, trying to get warm. Even the blanket she’d pulled over her didn’t help.

  She’d never felt as cold as she had when Seth stared at her the way he had. Oh, he couldn’t be cruel, as her father had been. Seth didn’t have it in him to be cruel.

  But still, that look had sliced her heart into pieces. It would be far better for her if she never saw him again.

  She pressed her fingers to her temples, trying to look at this situation rationally. She’d told Seth he was a buffer and he hadn’t denied it. Now she was the one trying to be a buffer. Trying to protect him, even though he didn’t think he either wanted or needed that protection.

  But Davy did. Her heart clutched at the thought of Davy’s bright, beautiful confidence. It came from never having doubted that he was loved and cherished.

  Would that be enough to protect him if he had to enter into a relationship with her father? Or would it be nipped by the frost of his icy disapproval?

  A knock at the door startled her. She tossed the blanket onto the back of the loveseat and went to open it.

  Seth. Seth stood there. She tried to steel herself. Whatever he wanted, she had to deal with it.

  She took the chain off and opened the door wide. “Do you need something more?”

  “No.” He came in, studying her face as if he could read the traces of the futile tears she’d shed. “I came to see if you’re all right.”

  The unexpected kindness made her eyes well with tears.

  “I’m—” She wanted to say that she was fine, but the words wouldn’t come out. They stuck in her throat, choking her.

  He shouldn’t be looking at her with concern on his face. She didn’t deserve it. She couldn’t deal with it.

  She shook her head, turning away from him, struggling to regain her composure. His hands came down on her shoulders, warm and strong.

  “I’m sorry.” His voice went low and soft. “I shouldn’t have been so hard on you.”

  That softness undermined whatever was left of her control. She tried to take a breath, but it came out as a sob.

  Seth gave a murmured, incoherent sound of distress. Then he drew her onto the loveseat, sat down next to her and pulled her into the comfort of his arms.

  She couldn’t stop the tears. If he’d been cold and angry, she’d have found the strength, but his kindness opened the floodgates. The sobs ripped through her.

  Seth didn’t do anything. He didn’t say anything but the kind of soft, reassuring phrases she’d heard him say to Davy the night he’d been ill. She’d never known such comfort. She never wanted it to end.

  But it had to. She pulled away finally, trying to regain control.

  “Sorry.” The word came out on a hiccup, and her throat felt too raw to try again. Her eyes burned from the tears.

  Seth rubbed his hand soothingly along her arm. “Don’t keep saying you’re sorry. Everyone’s got a right to fall apart now and then. You don’t have to apologize for that.”

  She pressed her palms to her eyes and took a deep breath. “In my family you did. It was considered inappropriate to lose control of yourself.”

  She remembered, only too well, stammering out an apology in the face of that cold-eyed stare that made her feel as if she were defective.

  He took her hands in his and held them warmly. “Listen, you don’t have to run your life by your father’s rules any longer. You’re trying to do the right thing. That’s what’s important.”

  “Are you sure?” She studied his face, longing to believe he meant that. “That�
��s not the impression I got from you a couple of hours ago.”

  He smoothed her fingers. “My mother pointed out how dumb I was being.”

  “I’m sure Siobhan didn’t say any such thing.”

  He smiled. “Not in so many words, no. But she pointed out that you were already hurting, and it wasn’t fair to keep kicking you.”

  She blinked away the tears that threatened to recur. “Your mother is very kind. And very wise.”

  “Tell me about it. She said something that made me think.” He hesitated, his brows drawing down. “She said that you and Lisa had both been damaged by your childhood. I guess I hadn’t thought about it that way.”

  She looked down at their intertwined hands. His were strong and wiry, and there was a pale scar across the back of the right one. They were capable hands that could put out a fire or comfort a child.

  “I suppose that’s true. Lisa and I didn’t know that all families weren’t like ours. We thought that we were the ones at fault. That we didn’t measure up.”

  “What about your mother? Lisa’s mother?”

  “I don’t remember my mother at all. I remember Lisa’s mother a little.” A whiff of some expensive perfume, the rustle of silk. “Sometimes she’d come in to say good-night to us. They both left.”

  “Neither of them tried to gain custody of you?”

  “Not that I know of. They just went out of our lives. We knew we weren’t supposed to ask about them. It would have made Father angry.”

  His fingers tightened. “He hurt you?”

  “Not physically. He’d never do that. I don’t think he ever touched us at all.”

  “No hugs?”

  “No hugs.” She thought of the easy, casual hugs the Flanagans seemed to exchange on every occasion. Of the way Davy raced to be hugged, always sure of being caught, embraced, tossed into the air. “Not like your family.”

  His smile flickered. “Everyone’s not like us.”

  “He just—disapproved.” She shook her head. “I don’t think I can explain the power of that feeling. He has a way of looking at you as if you’re a piece of shoddy merchandise he’s considering returning to the store.”

  He pulled her back against his shoulder. “There’s nothing shoddy about you. The man sounds like an idiot.”

  She shouldn’t lean on him this way. “He’s not that. Your father had it right, I think. All that matters to him is what he wants. He wanted perfect daughters who would be a lovely reflection on him. Neither Lisa nor I ever measured up to that, and he let us know it. I remember—”

  “What do you remember?” He prodded when she stopped.

  “There was a boy, when I was in college. I thought I was in love with him. More to the point, I thought he was in love with me.”

  “What happened?”

  “My father found out that he’d been taking pictures of me, trying to peddle a story to the tabloids. ‘Poor little rich girl’ kind of thing.” The taste of it was still acid in her mouth after all these years.

  “What did your father do?”

  “Bought him off. And pointed out to me that it was highly unlikely anyone would be interested in me for any other reason.” She shook her head. “Sorry. That really sounds self-pitying. I came to know, eventually, that I was valuable in God’s sight. That’s what matters.”

  “I guess I can see now why Lisa ran away.”

  “Yes.” Her throat went tight. “She ran away when she was in high school, but the police brought her back. After that she waited. Once she was in college, she planned to disappear. She said it was the only way she could have a life of her own. So she did. She was braver than I was.”

  He stroked her back, as if he felt her pain. “You didn’t know where she was all that time?”

  “I should have.” The guilt pulled at her. “I should have tried to find her. When she was little, I promised to take care of her. I didn’t do it.”

  He was still for a moment. “I promised to take care of her, too. And I failed.”

  “You didn’t know.” Her voice choked. “You didn’t know what you were up against. I did.”

  Seth took her face between his hands, looking into her eyes with a gravity she’d never seen before.

  “Listen to me, Julie. This is not your fault. You weren’t responsible for what happened to Lisa. You were a child yourself. Someone should have been taking care of you.”

  She’d have liked to believe that, but she couldn’t. “I can’t absolve myself that easily. I was the big sister. But if I can help keep Davy safe, maybe I can make up for that.”

  And if she couldn’t—

  Seth didn’t see the extent of the danger. She did.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Two days later, Julie sat staring at the laptop she’d put on the scarred tabletop in the firehouse kitchen. The crew had gone out on a call, but no one had suggested that she go with them. She seemed to be existing in a kind of armed truce with the firefighters.

  So why was she still working on the article? It was highly unlikely the piece would ever appear in print.

  Still, writing the article had helped to keep her sane for the past couple of days. She’d felt as if she were in limbo since the evening she’d wept in Seth’s arms.

  She’d been closer to him in those moments than she ever had to another human being, except possibly Lisa. Seth had felt that closeness, too—she was sure of it.

  But then they’d both drawn back, seeing the danger. Maybe what she recognized in Seth was the thing she’d begun to recognize in herself—an inability to open the heart to a deep emotional connection.

  They had different reasons for that failing. With Seth it was a matter of personality, as far as she could tell. Maybe because of his position in the middle of a large family, he’d adopted the role of everyone’s friend. He seemed to prefer being the observer or the peacemaker rather than participating in the fray.

  She put her palms over her eyes, staring into the darkness for a moment, as if that would help her see more clearly. Her situation was different. Her heart had been bruised so thoroughly, at such a tender age, that she wasn’t sure about how it would function in the future. Or if she even had the courage to try to change.

  Lord, I’ve had to face some painful things about myself during my time here. Maybe that was always Your plan.

  She had made some moves toward risking her heart, hadn’t she? Her heart had opened a little to the Flanagans, more to Davy, still more to Seth. She just didn’t know if she could go further.

  Well, Seth might not want that, in any event. Their situation was so complex. Why on earth would someone like Seth want to risk the painful complications of a relationship with her when he so obviously preferred things emotionally smooth and easy?

  The rumble of the truck coming into the garage warned her that the crew was back. Apparatus, she reminded herself, not truck. They never referred to it as a truck. She was learning some firefighter lingo, anyway, whether she ever used it in the article or not.

  Footsteps sounded on the stairs and laughing voices echoed in the stairwell. Something inside her relaxed. The call couldn’t have been a serious one or they wouldn’t sound like that.

  They trooped into the kitchen, saw her there, and the easy laughter stopped. She wasn’t one of the gang anymore. That hurt more than she’d have expected.

  She arranged a smile on her face. “So, was it an easy call?”

  Dave smiled back at her, the look a little wary but at least not openly antagonistic. “It was if you can call it easy when Ryan has to go down into a storm drain after a stuck kitten.”

  “I still say it would have come out by itself if they’d put out a can of cat food,” Ryan grumbled.

  “Yeah, but then we wouldn’t have had the fun of watching you.” Seth clapped him on the back. “Go take a shower, will you?”

  They scattered, with Ryan moving off toward the crew quarters and the others going back down to the garage. Either accidentally or on purpose, they
left her and Seth alone.

  He looked as if he’d like to follow the others, but something held him in place. He wandered to the counter and poured a mug of coffee.

  She had to say something to break the uncomfortable silence. “I sent that information we agreed on to my father.” She closed the computer. “I haven’t heard anything more from him.”

  Seth nodded, frowning. He leaned back against the counter. It was his usual easy pose, but she detected tension in the long lines of his body.

  Her own tension edged up in response. What was bothering him? He clearly intended to say something to her.

  He set the mug down on the counter, as if he didn’t want the coffee after all. “I thought you should know,” he said abruptly. “I’ve decided to take that promotion.”

  She blinked, her mind readjusting to the unexpected subject. “You have? Why?” And why was he telling her?

  He shoved himself away from the counter and planted his hands on the back of the wooden chair next to her. He was close enough that her breath caught.

  “I decided you were right. It’s better for Davy if I accept the promotion.” He frowned down at her.

  “You don’t look very happy about it.”

  He held the frown for a moment longer. Then he shrugged, some of the tension easing from his shoulders. He pulled out the chair and sat down.

  “I guess I am still fighting it a bit,” he admitted. “But the decision’s made. I turned in the paperwork to the chief this morning.”

  “And you decided this why, exactly?” She was feeling her way, not sure what this turn of events meant. “In what way was I right about the promotion?”

  Seth planted his elbows on the table, folding his hands loosely in front of him. “Davy doesn’t have a mother. I owe it to him to take a position that might be a bit safer.”

  She considered that. “Did you make this decision because of my father?”

  “I figure it can’t hurt,” he said. “Maybe being a lieutenant will make me a bit more of a solid citizen in his eyes.”