It didn’t take long for Logan to do the math. He’d come into the hotel bar at the end of October, not quite six years and nine months ago.
“I’m sorry,” I whispered, hoping to calm the angry waves rolling off his body. “I tried to—”
He didn’t let me finish. Spinning on the heel of his fancy shoes, he stormed out of my bar.
I didn’t follow.
Instead, I took a deep breath, squared my shoulders and walked over to the table where Logan’s friend sat stunned next to an equally shocked Willa.
Then, six years and many months too late, I asked for Logan’s last name and phone number.
“Is she asleep?” Hazel asked.
“Yeah. Chasing frogs all day wore her out.” I collapsed into a padded wicker loveseat across from where Hazel sat on the white railing of our back porch.
“That girl. She’s not happy unless there’s dirt under her fingernails.” Hazel smiled and took a long drag of her menthol cigarette. Her wrinkled hands shook a bit as she lifted it to her lips.
She wasn’t as steady as she used to be, though I guess that was to be expected after you reached sixty-five. But I kept my observations quiet. Reminding Hazel Rhodes that she was not as young as she pretended to be was just asking for an ass chewing.
“Is she still mad that you made her set the frog loose?”
I nodded. “She told me she’d just find another one tomorrow.”
Hazel laughed and shook her head. “Oh, Charlie.”
Her laugh was more of a cackle these days. Her voice held a permanent rasp from all those Virginia Slims. But as rough as it was, that sound had soothed my worries more times than I could count.
And tonight, I could use some soothing.
With thoughts of Logan running through my mind, I propped my head into my hand and stared blankly across the yard.
The house where Hazel, Charlie and I lived wasn’t much, just a cramped three-bedroom cottage that barely fit us all. But it was home, and the backyard was a sliver of heaven.
The lawn was wide with thick green grass that spread between two groves of evergreens. The trees stood as tall posts on both sides of our gravel shoreline. And in the center of our rocky beach, was a long, battered dock that stretched out twenty feet into the lake’s rippled water.
It was no wonder that Hazel’s little cottage with the sage-green siding and aqua door was worth millions.
Land prices in Lark Cove had skyrocketed in the last two decades. I’d asked Hazel to consider selling this place a year ago so she’d have some money for retirement, but she’d refused. I hadn’t been surprised.
Not only did this cottage hold sentimental value from her own childhood, but it was the only home Charlie had ever known. Which meant Hazel would live here for the rest of her life.
She’d grown up in this house before setting off for New York City after high school. She’d worked for years at various places in the city, mostly at animal shelters or children’s centers. One day, she came to work at the home where I was being raised. She arrived when I was eight and stayed until I turned eighteen. Not long after my birthday, her parents both passed in the span of two months and she returned home to Montana to run their bar.
Eventually, I followed.
When I rolled into town on a Greyhound bus, six months pregnant, she took me in. She moved me into this house, gave me a job and assumed the role of Charlie’s grandmother.
Because that’s what Hazel did.
She collected strays.
Lucky for me, I was one of her strays. So was Jackson. Together, we ran her bar after she decided to retire. Now she spent her days chasing Charlie around and volunteering in the kitchen at the Flathead Summer Camp.
A camp, I’d learned, that had just been purchased by Charlie’s father.
“How are you doing?” Hazel asked.
“Shocked,” I muttered, taking a deep breath of the smoky air. “I really want a cigarette.”
“Too bad you quit.” She took a drag. “And I don’t share.”
I smiled. “Yeah. Too bad.”
Hazel had told me on more than one occasion to cremate her with a pack of cigarettes. Her dedication to the habit was legendary. But she’d never condoned smoking as one of my vices.
My first cigarette had been at sixteen. I hadn’t even been old enough to buy them myself. But once I’d learned I was pregnant with Charlie, I’d quit cold turkey.
At times, I’d pretend to smoke. I’d hold one, unlit, between my fingers, letting the little white stick calm some nerves. I had a pack in my underwear drawer for just that reason. But tonight, I wanted more than just to pretend. Seeing Logan again had me itching for a puff.
“I can’t believe he came into the bar.”
Hazel hummed and turned toward the lake. “Yeah. It’s, um . . . crazy.”
Why did she sound guilty? Her tone was a lot like Charlie’s had been earlier when I’d found that nasty frog in the bathroom after she’d promised to keep it outside.
My eyes narrowed as Hazel picked at the wood railing. “What did you do?”
“Me?” she gasped. “Nothing.”
What a terrible liar. “Hazel,” I warned.
She took two more drags before finally stubbing out her cigarette in the ashtray she left out here. Then she slipped off the railing and came to sit in the wicker chair across from my love seat. “It might not have been just a coincidence that he came to Montana.”
My jaw slackened. “What?”
Hazel had known how to find Logan? How long had she known? Why hadn’t she told me sooner? I trusted her more than any other person on the planet. We didn’t keep secrets from each other. She’d let him walk into the bar today and surprise me completely. How could she keep something this important from me?
“I can hear those gears turning in your pretty head from over here, so before you make yourself dizzy, let me explain.”
“Fast.” I sat on my hands so I wouldn’t rip a cigarette out of her pack and suck it down.
“Remember I told you that I was helping Willa try and find a buyer for the camp?”
“Yeah.” It had been a few months ago, but Hazel had spent a lot of long nights hovering over her laptop as she researched charitable foundations.
“Well, while I was researching, I stumbled across the Kendrick Foundation.”
The Kendrick Foundation.
Logan Kendrick.
I’d guessed a hundred potential last names for Logan, but never Kendrick. It suited him though. Much like the man himself, it was classy and strong. It was a name not easily forgotten.
Too bad he hadn’t mentioned it years ago.
“His family is wealthy.”
“Obviously,” I deadpanned. “Anyone with two eyes can take one look at him and see that’s true. How about we get to the point where you kept a secret from me for months that involves Charlie’s father?”
“Don’t get pissy with me, young lady. You know I always think of you first. Just give me a minute to explain.”
“Fine,” I grumbled, then clamped my mouth shut so she’d continue.
“I was shocked when I saw his face on that foundation website. I recognized him immediately from the drawing in Charlie’s room but wanted to be sure. So I snuck in and got it to double-check. Sure enough, I put that drawing side by side with the computer and knew I’d found him.”
The drawing did look a lot like him, probably because I’d poured my heart into that sketch.
He was just as handsome as I remembered, though he had changed some. In a good way. Time was kind to men like Logan. The color of his eyes was deeper than before, more mesmerizing. His jaw seemed stronger and more refined. His hair was a bit shorter but still tamed around the inch-long part on the left.
But one thing hadn’t changed. He still had the ability to capture the room. Ten minutes in the Lark Cove Bar and I’d been completely off-kilter in the one place I felt completely at ease.
“I don’t think Charlie re
cognized him today.”
I didn’t want to keep her from Logan, but until I knew exactly what was going to happen, I didn’t want her in the middle. I wanted the introduction to her father to be one she’d remember with a smile, not some chaotic memory that would scar her for life.
“I don’t think so either,” Hazel said. “She was more worried about her frog than a stranger in her gran’s bar. But trust me, if you give her a quiet minute to really look at his face, she’ll recognize him right away.”
My daughter wouldn’t need much to put it all together.
She didn’t ask about her dad much. After I’d given her that sketch, she’d asked about him once or twice a year, usually around her birthday. I liked to think she didn’t ask about Logan because she didn’t feel like a part of her family was missing.
“Never mind Charlie,” I said. “Let’s get back to how you came across his identity and didn’t share.”
Hazel took out another cigarette from her pack and stood, going back to the railing and her ashtray. After she lit it up and took the first drag, she blew out a long stream of smoke before continuing. “It shocked me to the middle when I came across his face. I didn’t sleep a wink that night, wondering what to do.”
“You could have talked to me.”
“I know.” Her shoulders slumped. “But I love you and Charlie like you are my own. The last thing I wanted was someone coming in and causing you problems. You’ve had enough of those in your life. So, right or wrong, I decided to keep it quiet until I could learn more about the guy.”
“You should ha—” I stopped my retort. Snapping at her wasn’t going to change anything. And I couldn’t be mad at Hazel when her heart had been in the right place. “Well, it’s done now. Tell me what else you know.”
“He’s a lawyer in New York. He works for some fancy firm. He went to college and law school at Columbia. He’s thirty-three. Not married. And he doesn’t have other children, from what I can tell.”
A lawyer. Thirty-three. Not married. I soaked up these tidbits like a dry sponge, craving any information about Logan. I’d spent too long guessing about his life.
After our night together, I spent a month working at that hotel bar with one eye on the door, willing Logan to walk through. I craved him more than I ever had nicotine. The five months after that, I watched the door, praying he’d come back for an entirely different reason.
But when my sixth month of pregnancy rolled around and I still had no earthly clue how to find Logan, I gave up hope. The manager of the hotel bar had downgraded me to day shifts, and when I complained about needing the better evening tips, he encouraged me to look elsewhere for employment. Apparently, pregnant bartenders weren’t part of the image they were trying to convey in their high-class establishment. I could have refused and found a cheap lawyer to fight back, but instead, I decided to quit and leave New York.
I called Hazel and confessed my troubles. She told me to “get my ass to Montana and we’ll figure it out from there.” Two days later, I hopped on a bus with the entire contents of my life packed in one large suitcase and a backpack I’d bought secondhand.
I left knowing I’d never find Logan, and that Charlie would never know much about her father. The only things I could tell her were that he’d been sweet and kind. I could tell her that he’d treasured me, if only for one night.
I guess Charlie could learn a lot more about her dad now.
All she had to do was ask Hazel.
“You found all this out on the internet?”
She shrugged. “No such things as secrets in a world with Facebook.”
I shook my head. “I still don’t understand why you didn’t tell me. After you learned all of this. How could you let him ambush me like that?”
“I’m sorry.” Her face fell with her apology. “I was going to tell you but then decided to wait and see how Willa’s pitch played out. I thought it would be easier if you could see him in person and explain face-to-face.”
“Did you know he was coming here today?”
“No.” She held up her hands. “I promise. With the Fourth last week and no camp, I hadn’t seen Willa in over a week. I was running late today and by the time I showed up in the kitchen, she was already out of the office, meeting with them. I guess they called a few days ago for an impromptu visit. When she brought them into the kitchen on their tour, I almost dropped a pan of sloppy joes when I saw his face.”
“A warning would still have been nice before they showed at the bar.”
“I tried to call your cell five times, and the bar phone four, but it was busy.”
Goddamn it. “I was on the phone with the distributor.”
The company we got our liquor from was old-school, so instead of online ordering, I had to call it in each month. It took me over an hour to dictate my order and negotiate on price to get the best deal.
“Thea, when I couldn’t reach you, I came down as soon as I could. But I had to finish up in the kitchen, then hunt down Charlie. She insisted on bringing that damn frog. I hustled, but they beat us to the bar by a minute.”
“Okay.” I sagged into the seat, trying to process everything she’d told me. “Anything else?”
“No, that’s it. I’m sorry, sweetheart. I was just trying to help.”
“I get it.” I gave her a sad smile. “I’m just . . . scared.”
My emotions were spinning faster than a tornado, but the one that stood out the strongest was fear.
Charlie was the light of my life. She was all that mattered.
I couldn’t lose her.
“What if he tries to take her from me?”
“Then we’ll fight,” Hazel declared.
Fight. Just the idea of a custody battle made me queasy. It made me wish Logan were still a stranger and that Charlie would stay mine and mine alone. It made me wish that the simple and happy life I’d built for her wouldn’t change.
It wasn’t right. I wasn’t proud of feeling that way. But she was my entire world.
I had no clue how to share her with a father.
That was if Logan hadn’t already run back to New York City.
Logan
I’m a dad.
A father.
I couldn’t get the concept to sink in.
Did other fathers feel this whiplashed? Or dumbfounded?
Maybe other men got used to the concept of fatherhood during pregnancy. They had time to adjust to the fact a kid was coming. But I hadn’t gotten nine months. I’d gotten ninety seconds for all the puzzle pieces to fit together.
I had a child.
Charlie.
I had a daughter who was five, almost six, and had my crooked pinky.
Shit. I should have taken that shot Thea had poured me. Maybe I wouldn’t have run out of the bar like a coward.
Though in my defense, I’d been in dire need of some air. The cluttered walls of the bar had closed in on me and I hadn’t been able to breathe.
So I’d stormed out, leaving Thea and a million unanswered questions behind. Then I’d wandered aimlessly around Lark Cove, trying to understand how I’d come to Montana this morning for business and had my entire personal life turned upside down by evening.
I didn’t know how long I’d been walking or where. I’d found myself on a small, two-lane gravel road that ran along the lake. Rather than stop and get my bearings, I’d just kept walking. I’d followed the road until it curved around a point, and finally stopped walking to sit on a large rock overlooking the water.
I didn’t know how long I’d been sitting here either.
When my stomach grumbled, I blinked and focused my vision to check my watch. Four hours. It had been four hours since I’d walked out of the Lark Cove Bar. Four hours since I’d become a father.
I ran a hand through my hair and got off the rock, brushing off the seat of my jeans. The sun was beginning to set and it cast an orange glow across the lake.
“What the hell am I going to do?” The water didn’t a
nswer.
I hated being out of control. I was always in control. I was the man in charge. There was surety in my every move.
Today had knocked that confidence down a peg or twenty. I’d never felt so helpless in my life.
I had no idea what to do with a daughter. I didn’t know how to braid hair, buy dresses or go to tea parties. Would she even want me around? What if Charlie didn’t like me?
The trees at my back were growing closer and the clouds above were closing in. I bent and gripped my knees, forcing air into my lungs before I fell over.
Fuck. I was going to pass out. I had no idea what I was doing.
But I had to figure it out. I wasn’t the type of man to shirk responsibility, and the fact was, that little girl was mine. I’d been part of creating her.
I had to pull my shit together.
When my feet were steady again, I took another slow breath and stood tall. Then I turned away from the lake and headed back down the gravel road. I still had no idea what I was going to do, but hiding out here wasn’t going to help. I needed to get back to Lark Cove and to Thea so we could make a plan.
And so she could explain how this had happened.
Thea and I had been safe. Hadn’t we? I’d used a condom the night we were together. A lot of condoms. So how had our one-night stand turned me into a dad?
Thea had charmed me instantly that night. I came into that hotel bar having escaped a fundraiser in the ballroom. My mother had been relentlessly trying to set me up with a friend’s daughter. I’d gotten so fed up with the matchmaking that I’d ducked out for a breather and wandered into the hotel’s bar.
There, I found Thea.
I skipped the rest of the fundraiser so I could sit and talk with her. Those hours of talking and laughing about nothing were so refreshing. Thea didn’t care that my last name was Kendrick. Hell, she didn’t even ask. She didn’t care about my money or my family’s status.
And because she didn’t care, I didn’t offer it up. Intentionally. We were just Logan and Thea, two strangers with chemistry off the charts.
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