The Single Dad's Family Recipe

by Rachael Johns

  But it was light in here and, in the heat of the moment, she’d felt as if she were a different person and had completely forgotten about her scar.

  “What’s this?” he asked, his voice soft as he reached out and touched it.

  Although her stomach fluttered as his finger ran a line along her skin, her body went ice-cold. How could she have been so careless?

  “Um.” She swallowed. Her mouth parched, she was all of a sudden aware of her nakedness. A voice in her head told her to ignore his question, to simply kiss him till he forgot it, but she couldn’t.

  She scrambled for her jumpsuit—this was no conversation to have sans clothes—and tried to collect her thoughts as she hurried to put it on again. She could lie. What other reasons were there for such a scar across her abdomen? But although there must be a zillion, her brain came up with not one.

  “Have you got a child?” he asked, his voice a little rough but his gaze trained on hers so she couldn’t look anywhere else.

  She shook her head and felt tears spring to her eyeballs. “Not anymore.”

  Chapter Eleven

  Not anymore. What on earth did that mean? For a moment, Lachlan wondered if, like Linda, Eliza had abandoned a kid to her ex, but he found himself unable to believe such a thing of her. His heart rate slowed as a number of other possible scenarios ran through his head.

  “What happened?”

  “I lost him,” she whispered as a tear snaked down her cheek.

  Lost? “You had a stillbirth?” he prodded gently.

  Again she shook her head and another tear followed the first. “His name was Jack. He was fourteen months old and he was beautiful.”

  Every bone in Lachlan’s body turned to ice. Fourteen months wasn’t a stillbirth. That would have been bad enough, but this...this was so much worse than he’d imagined. He had no words, but in his head, he swore.

  “One day I took Jack to visit a friend and her new baby. I was cuddling the newborn, talking to my friend...” She sniffed again, but it didn’t stop the flood of tears down her cheeks.

  He grabbed his jeans off the floor and dug in his pocket for the handkerchief his mom had made him carry from an early age. He held it out to her and when she took it, their fingers touched, but the current that usually flowed beneath them was different now.

  “Thanks.” As she wiped her eyes, Lachlan quickly pulled on his jeans, not wanting his nakedness to make her uncomfortable.

  “Jack was playing quietly with some toy cars on the floor behind us and we didn’t hear him wander off. As it was my friend’s first child, their house wasn’t fitted with all the usual child-safety devices yet, and somehow Jack let himself out the back door and into their yard.” She took a long breath. “They had a fishpond.”

  Shit. He could see where this was heading and almost could not bear to listen. He wanted to put his hands over his ears but if he couldn’t bear listening, how much worse must it be for her to be relating this nightmare to him? Instinctively, he reached out again and took her into his arms.

  As he pulled her close, her tears already soaking into his shirt, he whispered, “It’s okay. You don’t have to tell me any more.”

  But she did.

  She pulled her head back and looked up at him, her dark eyes wide with anguish. “I should have been watching him. If I’d been paying attention, I would have seen him leave the room and I would have followed him outside. He loved water... He was just being curious.” Again, her face crumpled. “I don’t know how long he was there, his little face under the ripples. Did he know what was happening? Did he wonder where I was? Why I wasn’t helping him?”

  Although she kept talking, her words blended together in her distress, becoming almost impossible to decipher. But he knew the gist. She blamed herself for the death of her child and he honestly couldn’t comprehend how anyone could ever get over that.

  He felt compelled to say, “It was a terrible accident. It’s not your fault. You can’t think like that.”

  But she countered quickly, “Tyler thinks it was. He can never forgive me, but what he doesn’t see is that I understand that, because I can never forgive myself either. I don’t blame him for finding solace in someone else.”

  Again, Lachlan wanted to tell her that Tyler was a fool, but deep down he understood where they were both coming from. He already didn’t like the man, but he understood that grief caused people to do terrible things, to make unwarranted statements. There were no winners in this game of blame and he didn’t think many marriages could recover from something like this.

  But what would be the point in saying that? His words couldn’t change the past.

  Feeling utterly helpless, he held her tighter, wishing he could do something to take away her pain. Yet he knew that was impossible.

  How could you ever get over the death of a child?

  His mind went to Hamish and Hallie, and his chest tightened at the thought of anything ever happening to either of them. Due to Hamish’s condition, he was more susceptible than most kids to illness. There’d been times when he’d been so sick Lachlan had feared the worst might come, but his son was a fighter and had always bounced back. As Hamish’s cerebral palsy was mild, the doctors believed he had a good chance of living a reasonably long life.

  But Lachlan had to wonder how he’d cope if the prognosis was different, if Hamish were taken from them. He wasn’t honestly sure he’d be able to.

  Perhaps having Hallie to live for would help, but Eliza didn’t have that.

  And the person who should have stood by her through all of it had turned against her. Somehow, despite everything, she’d managed to get out of bed day after day, to come into work, to paste a smile on her face when smiling was probably the last thing she felt like doing. Somehow, despite experiencing two of life’s most traumatic things—the death of a child and the breakup of a marriage—she’d attempted to continue living. And that only made him admire and respect her more.

  “I’m sorry.” She suddenly pulled back. “You don’t need me falling apart on you like this. I just...”

  “Don’t apologize,” he said, perhaps more forcefully than needed, but the last thing he wanted was for Eliza to feel like opening up to him had been a burden. They may have known each other less than a month, but he already cared deeply for her. All those sleepless nights suddenly made a lot of sense and he wished she’d told him earlier, so he could have supported her. “Let me be here for you. If you ever want to talk about Jack, I’m happy to listen. I can’t even imagine what such loss would feel like, but...”

  Anger flashed across her face. She fisted the handkerchief into a tight ball in her hand. “I don’t want to talk about it! Talking doesn’t help, it only makes the ache worse. That’s why I moved here—to start afresh—and the only hope I have of achieving that is if people don’t see me as the woman with the dead baby. That’s why I didn’t tell you before, because I didn’t want you to look at me the way you are now.”

  He opened his mouth to object, to tell her that he would never think of her in such terms, but then he felt the pity etched in his face and he knew she was right.

  Eliza cast her gaze around the garage and thrust her finger at the old bicycle leaning against the wall off to one side. “Is that the bike your mother said I could have?”

  “Yes.”

  “Tell her I’m sorry but I’m not feeling well and I had to go home,” she said as she crossed the garage to retrieve it.

  “Eliza, please. Don’t go. I’m sorry, I...” he called after her, but she waved a hand at him.

  As she unlocked the door, she turned back and Lachlan’s heart squeezed with hope. “Can you promise me one thing?” she asked.

  He nodded. “Of course. Anything.” After the conversation they’d just had, she could tell him to run a marathon on hot coals and he’d give it his best darn shot.

&
nbsp; “Can you not mention this conversation or...my...Jack to anyone? It’s not that I want to forget him,” she said, as if he would ever think anything of the sort, “but it’s easier this way.”

  He took some comfort from her request as it made it sound as if she didn’t plan on quitting and leaving Jewell Rock or anything like that. Perhaps he hadn’t just lost the best employee he had. But no matter how much he loved and wanted the restaurant to succeed, it wasn’t the restaurant worrying him now.

  “I won’t,” he promised.

  “Thank you,” she said, before opening the door and disappearing with the bike.

  Lachlan wanted to go after her, to make sure she was okay, but he didn’t want to risk making things even worse than they already were. And if he didn’t head back to the house soon, they’d probably send out a search party. The last thing he felt like doing was going inside and playing happy families.

  Leaning back against a workbench, he dropped his head into his hands and sighed. Talk about complicated. When Eliza had leaped at the chance to enjoy some no-strings-attached sex, he should have wondered what the catch was.

  After a few moments, he straightened his clothes and forced himself to go back to the house. His mom was just serving her famous marionberry pie for dessert when he returned, and all his family looked past him quizzically.

  “What have you done with Eliza?” Blair asked, amusement in his voice.

  “She wasn’t feeling well,” Lachlan said, crossing over to his seat and ruffling Hamish’s hair as he said back down beside him. He had a sudden urge to hug both his kids. “She had a really bad migraine.”

  When Sophie raised her eyebrows, he elaborated, not meeting his sister’s or anyone else’s eye. “It came on really quick and she just needed to get home and lie down.”

  Lachlan knew he’d never been a good liar and this falsehood was probably written all over his face, but he was hardly going to tell his family the truth—whether there were kids present or not.

  “But she left her stuff behind.” Hallie stooped down and picked up Eliza’s purse from where it had been sitting on the floor by her feet.

  Lachlan cursed silently. He guessed her cell and house key were in the bag and the fact she hadn’t even thought about this proved just how upset she was. Although he didn’t think she wanted him to go after her, part of him was glad for an excuse to do so. He pushed to a stand. “I’ll take them to her,” he said, reaching across the table to take the purse from Hallie.

  Before anyone could say anything else, he was out of there. He grabbed his keys from the hallway table as he rushed out of the house and headed for his truck. Eliza hadn’t made it far and he saw her on the road just past the entrance to the distillery. He slowed the vehicle and jumped out. “Eliza!”

  She looked up and her eyes widened as she held up her hand to halt him. “Please, Lachlan, I can’t. I just...don’t want to. Not now.”

  Her cheeks were red and blotchy, her eyes bloodshot and her mascara was running down her cheeks, mingling with her tears. To him, she still looked gorgeous and it took all his willpower not to rush at her and hold her close. He longed to help, to offer her comfort.

  Instead he took a tentative step toward her and held out her purse as if he were holding out a treat to a wild animal. “It’s okay. We don’t need to talk, but you left these behind.”

  Horror flashed across her face. “Oh, Lord, what must your family think of me?”

  “Don’t worry about them. I told them you had a migraine and I’m a pretty convincing liar.”

  “Thank you. I didn’t even realize.”

  He nodded. “You’re welcome.” And then as much as it pained him to do so, he turned and went back to the truck because that’s what she wanted him to do.

  His cell started ringing in his pocket as he parked back in front of his house. Could it be her? Hope lit in his heart as he yanked the phone out. If she needed him, he would turn right back around. But the hope was short-lived when he glanced down at the screen and saw Linda’s name staring back at him.

  Damn. He wanted to speak to his ex-wife even less than he wanted to go inside, but he knew that if he didn’t answer, she’d keep calling until he did. Better to get it over with. With a resentful sigh, he slid his finger across the screen to answer and lifted the phone to his ear. “Linda.”

  “And a good afternoon to you, too, Lachlan.”

  “What can I do for you?” he asked, ignoring her obvious dig. He was in no mood to deal with her antics.

  “I’ve got some good news!”

  “Your aunt has had a miraculous recovery?” Although he hoped that was the case for the sake of this woman he’d never met, his stomach clenched at the thought that he would have to give Hallie back. It might have been crazy and exhausting trying to juggle her activities with Hamish’s and the restaurant preparation, but they’d managed and he’d loved having both his kids with him, where he’d always wanted them to be.

  “What?” She sounded as if she didn’t know what he was talking about. “Oh, um...yes actually, she seems to be doing much better, but the really good news is I’ve scored an acting role in a new sitcom. I’m going to be famous!”

  “Excuse me?” He shook his head, wondering if he’d heard right. Linda had always proclaimed she’d one day make it big as an actress but, as far as he knew, she’d never taken any steps toward this so-called dream.

  She repeated herself. “Isn’t it exciting?” When he didn’t say anything, she added, “Oh, Lachlan, can’t you just be happy for me for once?”

  “I knew there was never an aunt!”

  Her irritating giggle sounded through the phone line. “Actually there was. The role I’m playing is a woman looking after her dying aunt. Apparently I nailed the audition and they might actually make this woman’s character bigger than it was originally going to be.”

  His body filled with loathing. He didn’t give a damn about any of that. “What about our daughter? Where does she fit in this new life of yours?”

  “Well, that’s why I’m calling. To let you know I’m going to be busy for a while focusing on work, but once I’ve set myself up in an apartment, I guess she can come live with me in LA.”

  “You guess?” Lachlan’s grip tightened on the phone. This day was going from bad to worse. He thought of Eliza, of the tragic conversation they’d just had and how she would do anything to get her child back. And here was his ex, so blasé about their children. “What about the fact her family and friends are here?”

  “She’ll make new friends and there are such things as airplanes, you know.”

  “Over my dead body will she be moving to LA,” he growled. “If you go through with this, that’s it. I’ll file for full custody again and this time, I’ll make sure I get it.”

  “Don’t take that tone with me, Lachlan. I’m not your wife now. But,” she added, “perhaps you have a point. I don’t really think I’m cut out for motherhood. I need some time to find who I really am, so maybe it would be better for Hallie if she lives with you permanently and comes to visit me for holidays.”

  Not cut out for motherhood? His ex-wife was damn lucky they were having this conversation over the phone because he’d never been more angry in his life. Linda didn’t give two hoots about what was best for Hallie, she was only thinking of herself. His heart ached for his daughter, who deserved more than a mother so willing to pass her on to someone else to look after. He wanted his daughter’s mom to fight for her, to want her.

  Hallie, and Hamish, warranted so much more than a mother who was more invested in her own life than she was in her children’s. He couldn’t remember what he’d ever seen in Linda. The less she had to do with his kids the better. Heaven forbid Hallie would grow up to be anything like her narcissistic mother.

  “Good. It’s settled, then,” he said. “I’ll have my lawyer draw up the papers and
send them to you.” Then before she could say another word, he disconnected the call.

  He stared at the phone in his hand, feeling totally conflicted. A big part of him wanted to celebrate the fact that he’d soon have full custody of both his kids—although he wouldn’t put it past Linda to make things difficult just for the sake of it—but there was another part at a loss.

  What would he say to Hallie? She’d seemed nonplussed about Linda going off for a while, but how could he tell her that her mother wasn’t coming back? Abandoning Hallie to look after a sick relative was one thing, but choosing to star in some stupid sitcom over her daughter was quite another.

  And celebrating anything after the conversation he’d just had with Eliza didn’t sit right.

  Lachlan felt like he’d been put through the emotional wringer—in less than an hour, he’d gone from highly aroused to the depths of sadness, then raging anger and now desolation again. But as much as he cared for Eliza, his focus needed to be on Hallie and making sure she was protected in all this. He’d need to think carefully about what to tell her and how to tread from here on in.

  With that thought, he let out a heavy sigh, shoved his cell back into his pocket and went inside to face the music.

  Chapter Twelve

  Eliza couldn’t get back to her apartment fast enough. Her legs and lungs burned with the exertion and her eyes stung almost as bad. Not wanting to have another bike stolen, she took the bike into the building and then hurried into her apartment where she went straight into the bedroom and pulled out the photo of Jack. She flopped onto the bed, looked down at his perfect little face and then clutched it desperately to her chest.

  Her whole body ached at the knowledge this was as close as she would ever get to holding him again.

  After all the tears she’d sobbed, she didn’t think there would be any left, but she knew that tears didn’t have a limit. Only right now, she wasn’t sure whether she was crying about her loss or the fact she’d done what she’d promised not to do and told Lachlan about her son.