by Deb Kastner
“But,” he continued, reaching out a hand and stroking the back of one finger across her jaw, “I am glad you found me when you did. Otherwise, I might have—would have—gone to the nearest town and spent the evening on a bar stool in front of a tumbler of whiskey.”
“Which is exactly why you can’t do this yourself. You need to surround yourself with people who care for you.”
Panic flashed across his expression, but he quickly schooled his features.
He might think he could do it alone, but Alyssa was just as positive he could not. And Martin was not the person to speak to about her concerns.
Maybe Jo Spencer would have a good idea. Alyssa certainly had no clue, nor had she ever felt so helpless.
“Do you want to tell me what happened?” she asked, feeling as if she was getting nowhere.
She still wondered about his bloodshot eyes. If he hadn’t been drinking, then what...?
“I called Sharee again,” he admitted. “After you and I had our conversation, I felt I needed to take the initiative to reach out to her and make sure I connected this time. In the past, I’ve let it slide when my call has gone to voice mail, but now I see what a bad idea that was. The last thing I should have done was to give her enough space to make all the decisions about our baby on her own.”
He blew out a frustrated breath. “I did finally get a hold of her. I called over and over until she answered. And then I found out—” His voice cracked. “The situation is worse, even than I could have possibly imagined.”
“How is that?”
His beautiful azure eyes pooled with moisture.
That explained his red-rimmed eyes.
He hadn’t been drinking.
He’d been crying.
She didn’t think less of him for it. It took a strong man to process his emotions, especially since he no longer had his usual backup—alcohol.
She didn’t know what to do to help him.
Oh, Lord. Be with Cash right now. Comfort him and give him Your peace.
“Sharee has already made arrangements for our daughter to be given away in a closed adoption.”
“It’s a girl?” she asked, her voice catching.
Despite everything, he smiled shakily.
“Yeah. I have a baby girl on the way. Can you believe it?” Moisture appeared on his forehead and his chest heaved. He was hyperventilating.
“Breathe, Cash. No matter what Sharee told you, she can’t just give your baby up for adoption without your consent. It will only take a simple swab test to confirm paternity. You are the baby’s biological father. You have rights.”
Alyssa knew zilch about adoption laws, but she was certain the biological father would have a say in what happened to his daughter. Surely Cash must have the right to claim the custody of his child if that was what he wanted.
“Not according to Sharee. She said she’s not putting my name down as father on either the birth certificate or the adoption papers, and she’ll deny my baby’s paternity if she’s pressed on the issue.”
That woman should be ashamed of herself.
“Are you kidding me? After she spread it all over the news that you got her pregnant? That is the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard.”
“Yeah. I thought the same thing.”
“Okay,” Alyssa said, inhaling a calming breath and letting it out slowly. “There’s no way she’s going to get away with this. It doesn’t matter what she does or does not write on the birth certificate when we can easily get biological proof. We just need to figure out what to do next.”
His gaze widened, and he brushed the tears from his cheeks with his shirtsleeve.
“We?” His glossy eyes brightened, and his Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed convulsively.
“Of course.” She reached for his hand and squeezed it. “I’m here for you, Cash. Whatever you need—starting with meeting Sharee face-to-face. We’re going to fight this. You’re going to win full custody of your daughter.”
She wished she felt as confident as she sounded. In truth, she had no idea what the future held.
Thankfully, she knew Who did.
Chapter Eight
Cash surveyed himself in the mirror, brushing a piece of imaginary lint off the shoulder of the best burgundy-colored chambray shirt he owned. He narrowed his eyes on his reflection, thoughtfully appraising himself before straightening his cowboy hat, which he’d brushed clean the night before.
His gut churned, and he swallowed back the burn in his throat.
He didn’t know why he was putting this much effort into his appearance. In general, he rarely gave a thought to what he wore or how he looked. And it wasn’t as if he was going before a judge or anything.
Not yet, anyway.
Why was today different? What did it matter how he was dressed? Yet some unnamed emotion urged him to do whatever he could to look his best.
Part of it, he privately admitted, might have to do with Alyssa. She’d be the first one to see him today. Her natural, unassuming beauty had caught his eye more times than he could count. What would it feel like if she noticed him as more than the man she had won in an auction, a man who had been nothing but trouble for her?
But that was dangerous thinking, and there was no way he would go there.
He couldn’t.
Alyssa was an incredibly thoughtful, sensitive woman and deserved the very best in life, including an honorable, straight-as-an-arrow Christian husband with whom to build a stable, loving family.
Everything he was not, in other words.
Alyssa had a quiet strength about her—another attractive quality, and one of many. He still couldn’t believe she was willing to stand by him during one of the biggest crises of his life.
One of them.
Despite his best efforts to the contrary, his thoughts flashed to Aaron, and the whole reason he’d been involved with Sharee in the first place. He would never have imagined that what started out as two friends fighting over a girl they didn’t even know would have such long-lasting consequences.
Unwanted memories washed over him as he recalled every detail of that fateful night when Aaron had gotten behind the wheel of his car and had driven off after having far too much to drink. How he had missed a stop sign and had crashed headlong into a semi. The single blessing, if one could call it that, was that the doctors had said Aaron had died instantly, with no suffering.
But all those memories brought Cash right back to the present and his relationship with Alyssa. He needed to tread very carefully where his friendship with her was concerned.
Aaron’s death was the main reason he had to nip his attraction to Alyssa in the bud, even more than Cash knowing she deserved better than him.
He couldn’t be with her.
Not now.
Not ever.
If he was dressing to look his best today, it was to demonstrate to Sharee, however subconsciously, that he had his act together.
That he was responsible and had what it took to be a good father to their daughter.
Even if in truth, he didn’t.
When he’d first discovered he was going to be a daddy, he’d thought he would have more time to try to learn all the ins and outs of caring for an infant, to read all of the bestselling baby books and maybe spend time with some of his friends’ babies.
But not now. There wasn’t a minute to waste. He could no longer wait until he felt ready.
This situation had to be resolved now.
Today.
Whether he was ready or not.
He heard Alyssa honking her horn from out in front of his cabin and his shoulders slumped in relief. He was so grateful she had offered to be here with him today. He inhaled deeply, then let the air out slowly.
With Alyssa standing beside him, he could do this.
She had offered to drive, which he’d happily taken her up on. He was so shaky he wasn’t certain he could have handled the wheel if he’d tried, never mind the accelerator. That was all he needed, to mindlessly drive into a ditch because his thoughts were elsewhere.
He had called Sharee back and they’d arranged to meet.
Cash and Alyssa were making the trip to Dallas, where Sharee was currently living, with the intention of convincing her he really did want full custody of his daughter. Hopefully if she saw him in person, she would realize how much he’d changed.
Getting to the weekend seemed to take forever. He’d had far too much alone time during the past couple of days—every second he wasn’t at Emerson’s working with Alyssa—to mull over what would happen.
He couldn’t eat. He couldn’t sleep.
He had imagined every possible scenario, every way this confrontation could go wrong.
He was worried about distressing the baby when they met with Sharee, knowing Sharee would get all worked up about them being there. He hated the idea that his presence might have a negative effect on the child, but he couldn’t see any way around that.
It had to be done. There was no other way he could see to make things right.
He hoped she wouldn’t panic and accelerate her plans to sign the adoption papers before they had the opportunity to talk things through.
Could she do that?
He had no idea when those legal proceedings happened.
Before the baby’s birth, or afterward?
He prayed he wouldn’t ever have to know. If necessary, he would be contacting a family lawyer to discuss his options once he knew where Sharee’s head was at.
“You look terrible,” Alyssa remarked as he slid into the passenger seat of the cab.
Despite his anxiety, his mouth jerked into a wry half smile.
“Well, thank you for that. And here I spent extra time primping in front of the mirror this morning.”
The pathetic part of that statement was that it was true.
Her cheeks colored an attractive shade of rose.
“That’s not what I meant,” she chided softly. “You’re handsome and you know it. I don’t think anyone needs to boost your ego in that department.”
Not anyone. But he did like hearing it from Alyssa.
“You clean up very nicely—although I’m wondering if you ought to roll down the window and hang your head out to get some fresh air. You’re green around the gills.”
That didn’t sound like a half-bad idea.
He groaned and clutched at his stomach. “I feel like I’m going to be sick. This is worse than any hangover I’ve ever experienced.”
“It’s nerves. You’ll be okay.” She put the truck into gear and headed for the highway.
She sounded so convinced of what she was saying. He only wished he felt the same assurance.
“I wish I believed that. I stand to lose my very own flesh and blood today and I have absolutely no control about how this is going to go down.”
She glanced over at him and then back at the road. “You might not know what the future holds, but I know Someone who does.”
“Who?”
“I’m talking about God. I’m not going to get up on a soapbox and tell you what you should believe. I can only show you what He has done for me. Right now, He’s giving me peace. Otherwise, I’d be totally tripping out and wouldn’t be able to breathe, much less drive.”
“You really think God’s got this?”
She nodded vigorously. “Oh, I know He does. I’m not saying everything that happens today will be perfect and we won’t have any conflict with Sharee. We very well may run into trouble. It’s hard to say, given everything I’ve heard about that woman. But I do know God wants that sweet, soon-to-be-born baby girl to stay with her biological father—a daddy who loves her.”
She flicked a glance at him. “And I want you to know I’m going to fight with every last ounce of my being to make sure that happens.”
“I wish—” He paused and sighed softly. “I wish—”
He didn’t know how to put what he wanted to say into words, to explain how he was feeling right now, so in the end, he clenched one arm around his middle, stared out the passenger window and let his words drop into silence.
Alyssa reached across the cab and squeezed his hand. He didn’t know if it was only meant to be a quick, comforting gesture, but he laced his fingers through hers. He needed human contact right now.
“We’ve got a big project to do next week,” Alyssa said conversationally. “It’s time to dig through my shed and get out all the Christmas decorations for the store.”
“All of them?” He groaned. “What are we talking about? A box of tinsel and garland and a string of lights?”
He appreciated that she was trying to distract him but talking about Christmas wasn’t the way to do it. He’d never cared for the season because he’d never really seen the point. His parents had never done much for him when he was a kid. They went to the midnight Christmas church service and that was about it. Mama had a soft heart toward God, but his dad ran a tight household, and he’d never had much use for religion. So his mom had done what she could, but it wasn’t much.
As an adult, they did even less together. They didn’t even get together for the holidays, which meant Cash would spend his Christmas alone.
Ho, ho, horrible.
“Among other things. What’s wrong? You don’t like Christmas, Cowboy McScrooge?”
His lips twitched into a smile. “Something like that.”
“Then I’ll make it my personal mission to convert you into a Christmas-loving cowboy. I always bring in a live evergreen to the store and decorate it to the hilt. You name it—ornaments, lights, garland, tinsel. I string hundreds of blinking lights all around the inside and outside of the shop and place a large nativity scene in the front window. Of course, this year we’ll also have our Kickfire display.”
“That’s right. The big debut is coming up, isn’t it? Black Friday?”
“Yes, and I can hardly wait.”
“Yeah. Me, either.”
“Buzzkill. You don’t exactly sound enthused.”
“Oh, I will be, or at least I’ll look like I am, all dressed up in my Kickfire gear. I haven’t forgotten that I’m serving as your face for the grand opening. Pete will be there with his camera and a film crew from the local news, too.”
“Really?” Her face brightened, and Cash was glad he’d gone to the extra effort of bringing in a news crew. This wasn’t just about a promise anymore.
“Thank you,” she whispered.
“For what?”
“For everything.”
“I should be thanking you.” He squeezed her hand.
They rode in silence for the rest of the trip, each lost in their own thoughts. Cash mentally rehearsed everything he intended to say to Sharee once they were speaking face-to-face. Trying to remember every line of reasoning he would propose. What he would say when she raised her objections, as he knew she would. Just thinking about it was making every muscle in his body bind up in painful knots.
“Here we are,” she said, pulling into a vacant parking spot in the middle of a beat-up apartment complex in what was clearly a not-so-great neighborhood in a bad part of town. The place didn’t look very well kept up, with faded yellow siding peeling away from the wall, and dirt and dandelions poking up where the landscaping ought to be.
Cash didn’t move, except to reach for the truck handle. He gritted his teeth and managed to tighten his grip but didn’t open the door.
Alyssa cleared her throat. “I know I can’t even begin to imagine how difficult this must be for you, so I’m not going to say otherwise. All I can tell you is to embrace what is happening and seek God through it all. Believe that the Lord has His best planned for
you and for your precious baby. This may be the day you look back on as the day you claimed paternity of your little baby. The first day of the rest of your lives together as a family.”
Or, conversely, this might be the worst day of his entire life.
Their gazes met and held, and he could tell she was thinking the same thing, even if she wasn’t willing to voice her thoughts.
This could be the day he lost everything.
* * *
Alyssa’s stress level was off the charts. She wasn’t even certain she and Cash had made the right decision coming here. There were far more ways this scenario could go wrong than having it go right, and she thought she’d probably considered every last one of them.
But what else could Cash do?
He was that baby’s biological father and he wanted his daughter. He was going to have to fight for her.
Alyssa didn’t share her fears with Cash. She could see by his expression he was having the same thoughts as she was, and he was the one with everything to lose. She wished she could do more for him than just support him and stand by his side.
When Cash didn’t immediately exit the cab after they’d pulled up in front of Sharee’s apartment, Alyssa used the moment to center herself in prayer. She had to be strong for Cash—not in her own strength but with Christ’s strength within her and through her.
“Are you ready?” she queried softly.
He blew out a breath. “No. Not even close. I need a drink, and I’m not sure how I’m going to get through this without one.”
She tilted her head, regarding him closely. “You really think that would help?”
His gaze met hers. “No. Not really. But I’ve used alcohol as my coping mechanism for so many months that it’s hard not to be tempted.”
“Of course you’re tempted. Not giving in to that feeling is the hard part.”
“Right.”
“I know you have to mentally prepare yourself for what may lie ahead. I’m not in a hurry. You can take as long as you need.”
“That’s half the problem,” he admitted. “I have been mentally preparing myself—which inevitably leads to my thinking of all the ways this could go wrong.”