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Reunited by a Secret Child

Page 12

by Leigh Bale


  Katie averted her eyes.

  “Early morning is when the fish bite the most,” Reese said.

  He laid a couple of lawn chairs in the back, then took the picnic basket and first aid kit from Katie’s hands. She caught his scent, a subtle mixture of spicy cologne and oranges.

  Yesterday in the restaurant, he’d looked pale and startled. Like he was lost and didn’t know how to act anymore. Katie wasn’t sure how bad his PTSD was. She figured he needed a friend to talk to, but she didn’t want it to be her.

  He glanced at her oversize bag and gave her a lopsided smile that shot darts of charm straight to her heart. “What have you got in there, the kitchen sink?”

  She laughed and adjusted the straps of the heavy bag. “No, just some extra towels, in case Chrissy wants to go swimming. I also brought you the morning newspaper, but you may not like what you see. There’s a picture of you inside.”

  His eyebrows quirked. While she rummaged around in her bag for the paper, he stood nearby, wearing a deep frown.

  “What picture?” he asked.

  She unfolded the paper and held it up for his view. He took it and scanned the article. The front page showed a picture of him standing in Mrs. Watkins’s yard with the headline Local Hero Mends Fences.

  He jerked his head up and stared at Katie. “Did you take this snapshot?”

  Katie heard the accusation in his voice and shook her head. “No, I did not.”

  “Then who did?”

  She pointed at the small print, which listed the photo credit. “Bruce Miller. When Chrissy and I saw you at Mrs. Watkins’s house yesterday, I noticed a blue sedan parked down the block. Someone was inside, smoking. The man looked vaguely familiar, but I wasn’t sure. Then when I saw the article today, I knew it was him.”

  Reese’s eyes narrowed on the article and he shook his head in disgust. “Bruce Miller.”

  “Do you know him?” she asked.

  “Yeah, he’s an independent journalist that writes award-winning articles for the National News Registry,” Reese said. “He was here at the motel that first day when I got into town. He won’t seem to take no for an answer. Now it appears that he’s going around town interviewing anyone willing to talk, so he can get a story on me.”

  “I’m sorry, Reese.” She hated that he might believe she had any part in this. She’d been writing about him, too, but didn’t plan to publish her story unless he gave his permission. She’d seen firsthand how tortured he was over losing his hotshot crew. She planned to wait until he seemed more at ease before asking him if she could let her editor publish it.

  “My work at Mrs. Watkins’s house was personal,” Reese said. “I didn’t want to draw attention to it. Most of the media has left town, but it seems that some reporters are still hanging around.”

  “I know. And I’m sorry, Reese. Truly I am,” she said.

  And she meant every word. Maybe her article would never be printed, but that didn’t matter if he was hurting.

  Reese reached for Chrissy’s bag and he gave his daughter a teasing frown. “What is all this stuff?”

  “My things. I need them,” she said.

  Katie almost laughed out loud. Chrissy had packed her dolly and blanket, a jacket, several books and a few other nonsensical “necessities.” A complete girlie girl.

  “It looks like you’re packing for a monthlong trip,” Reese teased, but he stashed her stuff in the back like a good daddy.

  “I’m bringing my compass with me, too.” Chrissy reached into her pocket and pulled out the case for his inspection.

  “Good! I’m sure we’ll have time for another orienteering lesson.”

  “Orienteering?” she asked in a quizzical tone.

  “Yes, it’s the skill of being able to navigate your way by using a map and compass in an unfamiliar area.” He leaned down and welcomed the girl’s tight hug, brushing a curl of hair back from her cheek as he smiled into her eyes.

  Seeing this man interact with her daughter in such a personal way tweaked Katie’s heart. For just a moment, she wished they could always be like this. That they could be a real family. But thinking like that would get her nothing but trouble. Reese wasn’t interested in a family. He never had been. She should enjoy the day and take it at face value. It was a fishing trip, nothing more.

  Charlie came outside, packing a digital camera. “Picture time.”

  “Yes, let’s get a picture of Reese and Chrissy together,” Katie said.

  Reese willingly hunkered down and pulled Chrissy onto his knee. They both smiled widely as Charlie clicked the camera.

  “Now let’s get one of all of you together,” Charlie said.

  Katie stepped back, feeling off balance. “Dad...”

  “Yeah, Mom. Get in here with us,” Chrissy urged.

  Before she knew what was happening, Katie found herself standing next to Reese, with Chrissy in front of them.

  “Say cheese,” Charlie urged.

  Katie tried to smile but feared it would look more like a grimace. Her dad snapped the picture and she breathed a sigh of relief that it was over.

  Charlie hugged Chrissy, tickling her ribs. “You have fun today, all right, bug?”

  “Papa! Stop that.” The girl squealed, but it was obvious she was enjoying herself.

  Charlie laughed and finally released her, then turned to embrace his daughter. Leaning close, Katie accepted his kiss on her cheek, then tensed when he whispered in her ear. “Relax, Mom. Our little girl is gonna be just fine with her dad. Go and have fun.”

  Katie snapped her head around to look at Reese, fearing he might have overheard. Thankfully, he was buckling Chrissy into her booster seat and didn’t appear to have noticed.

  “How many fish do you think we’ll catch today?” Chrissy asked, when they were all settled and on their way.

  Reese waved at Charlie as he pulled out of the alley and onto the dirt road leading up to Cove Mountain. “I don’t know. It’s a calm day, so we should be able to catch enough for dinner.”

  Chrissy glanced at her mom. “Are you gonna invite Daddy to supper?”

  Oh, no. Now that Chrissy had said it out loud, Katie didn’t see a way to avoid an invitation. After all, when they went fishing, they usually ate their catch for their evening meal. Except Chrissy, who always wanted macaroni and cheese.

  Before Katie could respond, Chrissy whirled toward Reese. “You’re coming to supper with us, aren’t you?”

  “Um, that’s up to your mother, sweetheart.” Reese stared straight ahead.

  The girl swung around to face her mother, her nose crinkled in a perturbed frown. “He can come, can’t he, Mom?”

  “Sure,” Katie said, without much enthusiasm. “You’ll have to drive us back home, anyway. You might as well stay for supper.”

  “Thanks. That sounds nice,” he said.

  They soon arrived at Cove Lake and Reese killed the engine. They all climbed out and he unloaded their things, including a tackle box, which Katie recognized as her father’s. It was filled with colorful lures, sinkers, hooks and extra fishing line. He looped the strap over his shoulder, then hefted the two fishing poles.

  “Are you ready to go?” he asked, looking first at Katie, then at Chrissy.

  “I am!” the child responded.

  “Then let’s go fishing.” He headed toward the lake. Chrissy was right beside him, skipping over rocks, plants and fallen logs.

  Katie followed, grateful that Reese didn’t seem to be overly bothered by the newspaper article and the invasion of his privacy. As she walked, she listened to Chrissy’s buoyant chatter and the deep timbre of Reese’s laughter. She inhaled the fresh air and gave a quick shudder.

  Being together in the mountains like this did something to her. It set off a longing she had suppressed since she’d had Chrissy. And having Reese her
e only made that longing worse.

  * * *

  Reese didn’t know what to think. Had Katie taken his picture when he’d been working over at Mrs. Watkins’s house? After all, she was a reporter for the Minoa Daily News. A big story might advance her career. Especially if it got picked up by the national news.

  Surely she wouldn’t stoop that low. Bruce Miller’s name was captioned in the article. Katie hadn’t known about it. He could trust her. Couldn’t he?

  At the lake, she sat on a large boulder next to him, holding Chrissy’s fishing pole. When Chrissy caught her first fish, she’d cried and begged Reese to throw it back. Not knowing how to handle her tears, he’d done as she asked, wondering what they would eat for supper without any fish in their basket. When she got the fishing line caught in her hair, he’d patiently untangled it. She’d lost interest in the activity after that. Now she strolled along the pebbled beach, picking up colorful rocks.

  “She never keeps the fish she catches. She’s too tenderhearted,” Katie said.

  “Tenderhearted is good for a girl her age. I just wish she was having more fun,” Reese said.

  “She is, believe me.”

  He glanced doubtfully at his daughter. She was bent over, picking up a glistening rock. Her teddy bear hung limp from her left hand. “How can you tell?”

  Katie pointed at the child. “Look how she’s playing on the beach. And listen. What do you hear?”

  Reese paused, holding his fishing pole with both hands. The girl’s lilting voice rose through the air in a sweet song he’d learned at church as a child. He couldn’t remember the words but knew the melody well enough.

  “She’s singing,” he said.

  Katie nodded. “Yes. Which means she’s happy. Besides, she’d let us know if she wasn’t having fun. Believe me.”

  “But she cried when she caught a fish,” he said.

  Katie shrugged as she leaned the fishing rod against an outcropping of rock. “That’s just a girl for you, Reese. She’s having fun. Trust me.”

  “But she’s making such a racket that she’ll probably scare all the fish away.” He chuckled, wondering if he’d ever figure out how the opposite gender worked. Being a father was so new to him, yet he couldn’t deny that he liked it so far. But he hated it when girls cried.

  “Don’t worry. If we don’t catch any fish, I’ve got some T-bone steaks in the fridge. Dad can fire up the barbecue while I make a salad and slice some watermelon,” Katie said.

  “That sounds delicious.” In fact, he couldn’t remember ever having a barbecue with his parents. But he’d cooked a lot of steaks with his hotshot buddies. And the fun memories brought a dull ache to his heart.

  “Did you visit your parents at the cemetery this morning?” Katie asked.

  “I visited my mom.” Gazing at the sparkling lake, he tugged on his fishing line, slowly reeling it in. He’d neglected his mother when she’d been alive and he regretted it more than he could say. This morning, he’d told her how sorry he was. He just wished she was still here and he could wrap his arms around her and be a better son. In fact, he’d made a promise to her that morning. That he’d change. That he’d be the kind of man she had raised him to be. The kind of man she could be proud of.

  “What about your dad?” Katie asked.

  He quirked his mouth. “As far as I’m concerned, my father can lie in his casket and rot.”

  Katie flinched. “That’s rather harsh.”

  He turned away, hating to let her see this dark side of him. His mom had raised him to be a Christian. To love and serve the Lord. To be a good, hardworking, honorable man. And though Reese had gone to church when he was a child, by the time he became a teenager, he’d wanted nothing to do with God. He didn’t know if he could ever forgive his father for the hurt he’d caused them, and he didn’t want to involve God in his feelings of anger and isolation.

  “My father wasn’t a nice man, Katie. You already know that, so let’s not pretend. Because of him, life was beyond difficult growing up in my parents’ home,” he said.

  She shifted her weight beside him and he turned his head. Her beautiful brown eyes were tinged with sadness. “I know your father was an alcoholic, but maybe it’s time to forgive him. After all, he’s gone now and it’s in the past.”

  Reese snorted. “Forgive him? I left because of him. The night of our high school graduation, after I took you home from the dance, my father was in another drunken rage. He beat me so badly that he broke my nose, Katie.”

  “Oh, Reese. I’m so sorry.” She covered her mouth with one hand, looking repulsed.

  “I wasn’t a kid anymore, Katie. I was eighteen years old and tall enough to look him in the eye. I knew if I didn’t leave, I might kill him one day. I knew that was no good. That I was becoming someone I detested. So I got on a bus and left town early the next morning. As I told you before, I begged Mom to go with me, but she refused. She wouldn’t leave my dad. She said she loved him. But I didn’t. I hated him. And so I left. I called Mom about a year later, after I’d found a job and got settled with a place to live. But in all honesty, I wanted nothing to do with this town ever again.”

  “I’m sorry to hear that,” Katie said.

  Reese caught the throb of hurt in her voice.

  “I did think about you often over the years, though,” he said.

  She lifted her eyebrows in disbelief. “Really?”

  “Yes, it’s true.”

  “Then why didn’t you contact me?”

  He shrugged, feeling ashamed of himself. “Honestly, I thought I didn’t deserve a girl as good as you. I figured you must have gone to college, become a doctor and married some physicist or something. I figured you were happily living a life of luxury in a big city somewhere. You didn’t want to be shackled to a guy like me.”

  She shook her head. “Is that what you really thought?”

  He nodded. “You were great, Katie. Smart and hardworking. So talented. Good at everything you ever did. You deserved better than a boy like me from the wrong side of the tracks.”

  “Don’t you think that was for me to decide?” she asked.

  “I suppose so. I’m sorry now that I didn’t ask.” And he meant it. Every word. At the time, he’d been so filled with anger and hate. He didn’t show it outwardly, but he’d had very little self-esteem. Had been too wounded to stop and think that maybe he had hurt Katie, too. That maybe she needed him as much as he needed her.

  “We all have our problems to cope with. Even me,” Katie said. “Maybe your dad had an even more rotten childhood than you did. Who knows what problems he was carrying around that made him bury himself in a bottle. Maybe if he’d gotten some help, he could have overcome his addiction. No matter what, you don’t need to carry your hurt and anger anymore. You can hand it over to the Lord and let Him carry it for you.”

  Reese didn’t respond. Instead, he changed the topic. But he couldn’t help wondering about what Katie had said. She made forgiveness sound so easy. Like all he had to do was tell God all of his sorrows, that he regretted his mistakes, and he could move on and let it go. But he’d been angry for so long. How could he just hand it over to the Lord? He wasn’t sure, but he sensed it would require a lot of prayer. He’d have to actively seek out God. To ask forgiveness and resolve to become a better man. In spite of Katie’s convictions, Reese wasn’t sure he could do that. Not right now when he was hurting so much. Maybe never.

  Chapter Ten

  Katie sat on a pew in the redbrick church house and folded her hands in her lap. Chrissy was sandwiched between her and Charlie, waiting for the Sunday service to start. Soft organ music filtered through the air, a hymn that set the reverent tone for the meeting. But Katie couldn’t help feeling restless.

  Her discussion with Reese the day before still troubled her. Until he had talked about the horrible fight with his fat
her that caused him to leave town, Katie hadn’t realized how difficult life must have been for him. His dad had broken his nose, and Reese had feared he might kill him one day. She’d encouraged him to forgive his father, yet she felt like a hypocrite. In her heart of hearts, she knew it wasn’t fair to ask Reese to forgive his dad when she hadn’t yet forgiven him. Now she knew that his leaving town had nothing to do with her. Nothing at all. Maybe she had judged him unfairly. Maybe...

  “Daddy!”

  Katie turned. Planting her knees on the bench, Chrissy faced the back of the building and waved.

  A stutter of silence swept over the room. Even the music stopped on a discordant note. Megan and Jared Marshall, and numerous other people in the congregation, turned to look. Their eyes widened, their mouths dropped open. And Katie didn’t need to ask why.

  Reese stood in the double doorway, the morning sunlight silhouetting his tall figure. No doubt everyone was surprised to see him walk through the church doors, but that wasn’t what had given them such a shock. They’d overheard Chrissy. She’d called him Daddy and they were now putting two and two together.

  Katie swallowed a groan as she lowered her head and stared at the tips of her strappy high heels. A flush of heat washed over her, prickling her skin with mortification. How she wished she could disappear. Word would soon be all over town that Reese Hartnett was little Chrissy Ashmore’s father. Everyone would know. Katie would be the brunt of gossip once more and there was nothing she could do to stop it.

  Chrissy shifted restlessly, her face drawn with excitement. Katie reached up to quiet her, her peripheral vision catching Reese’s movements. Without a word, he quickly took a seat in the back pew, close to the doors. All alone.

  With his hair slicked back, he was dressed in a pair of navy slacks, a beautiful blue paisley tie and a white oxford shirt that fit him to perfection. Probably his best clothes. Katie wondered mildly if he owned a dress suit, but it wouldn’t have mattered. Even without looking closely, she could see that he was freshly shaven. More handsome than a man had a right to be.

 

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