Then he heard Renee Albertson’s melodic voice, and he followed it to a room in the back.
Addison sat at a table, her tongue clamped between her lips as she cut something out of a piece of pink paper. She glanced up as Tate came in, dropped her scissors and ran to his side.
“Daddy, you finally came,” she exclaimed, the unadulterated joy in her voice making him smile.
Then Renee looked up from the table, and as their eyes met, attraction arced between them.
“Look, Renee, my daddy brought the pictures.”
When Renee broke the connection and turned toward his daughter, Tate mentally shook his head to get his mind back to the present.
“That’s great. Now we can figure out what to do.” Renee gave Addison a warm smile, and the concerns he’d felt about Addison working with Renee eased.
“So, how do we start?” Tate asked, pulling up a chair to the table.
Addison was fairly humming with excitement as she pulled open the box.
“The first thing to do is figure out what size album, but Addison already picked one out while we were waiting.” Renee sat down across from Addison and showed Tate a small book in Addison’s favorite color, purple. “She also told me she wanted to put the pictures in chronological order, and we picked out some of the papers she wants to use.”
“You decided all that already?” Tate asked, surprised that Renee seemed so willing to talk to his daughter when she’d been so reticent around her yesterday. “You and Addison?”
Renee nodded, her head bent as if she understood exactly what he was implying.
“I know we didn’t get off to the best start,” Renee said quietly, sorting through the brightly patterned papers in front of Addison. “But I think things will work out well.”
She looked directly at him, and he held her candid gaze, then nodded. He immediately felt bad for his brusque question. Renee was trying, and he was being an overprotective father.
“Thanks for that,” he said. “I had a few concerns.”
“I understand. I would have, too, given...given my reaction.”
He felt the tension in his neck ease at her oblique confession. She was trying, and though he didn’t understand what it was about Addison that made her feel so uptight, he had to accept her apology.
He smiled and was pleased to see her smile in return.
She really was pretty, he thought, suddenly unable to look away.
“This was me as a baby,” Addison said suddenly, holding out a picture of Molly cuddling her. “I was kind of funny-looking.” She dropped that picture on the table and grabbed another one. “Here’s my first day of school.” She tossed that one aside, too, and grabbed another one as the picture fell to the floor. “This was when I went to dance class and Mommy got sick. Oh, and here’s one of my daddy when—”
Tate was about to tell Addison to be careful, when Renee gently laid her hand on Addison’s. “Why don’t we start at the beginning and sort the pictures out first. You can tell me about them as we go.”
Addison frowned at Renee’s hand, but when she looked up at Renee, she nodded.
“We want to be careful with the pictures, don’t we?” Renee said. “So why don’t you pick up the picture you dropped.”
“That’s okay. I can get it another time.” Addison waved off Renee’s suggestion.
Then, just as Tate was about to reprimand her, Renee put her hand on Addison’s shoulder. “It’s just right here,” she said, turning her to look at the pictures that had fallen.
Tate’s protective instincts rose up at the hurt look he saw on Addison’s face from Renee’s reprimand. “She just wanted to show you the pictures,” he said quietly.
Renee cut him a quick glance, then held up a hand. “Sorry. I wasn’t trying to take over your job.”
As soon as she spoke, Tate realized how he had sounded. “No. I’m sorry,” he said, slanting her a quick smile. “Just being a father.”
“That’s not a bad thing to be,” she returned, adding her own smile.
Their gazes held for a heartbeat longer than they should have, then Renee broke the connection first as she bent down to pick up one of the pictures Addison had tossed on the floor.
She laid the picture down on a piece of white paper. “This would be a good one for the first page. You and your mom and dad leaving the hospital. Do you also have one of you and your mommy or daddy inside the hospital? After you were born? We could put that one with this picture.”
Addison leaned over the photo, shaking her head. “I was adopted, so we don’t have lots of hospital pictures.”
Renee picked up another photo, her fingers trembling, her face suddenly pale. “Where was this one taken?” she choked out as she held up the photo of Molly, Tate and Addison standing in front of the hospital.
Tate smiled at the picture as he took it from her. Sunshine had poured down from the sky that day, and Molly had been happier than she’d been in years. It’d been the most life-changing day of his life.
“It was taken here,” he said, gently tracing the bundled figure in Molly’s arms. “In Rockyview.”
He looked up at Renee, who had her hand on her chest, her face as white as the paper she had been holding seconds before.
“Where were you living at the time?” Her question came out in the faintest of whispers, her face twisted in an expression of near terror.
“I was working as a lawyer. In Whitehorse, in the Yukon Territory.”
Renee glanced from the picture to Tate, to Addison, then turned and suddenly ran from the room.
Renee stood in the back alley behind her store, her heart drumming in her chest as what Tate had just told her whirled through her mind.
The picture of Tate and his wife holding a newborn baby was taken in front of Rockyview Hospital.
The baby was Addison.
And Addison was eight.
Reality hit her with the weight of a truck.
Eight years ago Renee had been pregnant. Eight years ago she’d given birth to a baby girl in Rockyview Hospital.
When her boyfriend, Dwight, had found out she was pregnant, he’d broken up with her, leaving her alone to face her mother’s disappointment.
The only people who’d stood by Renee were her friends Evangeline and Mia.
Afraid and alone, though her mother had told her repeatedly that she would support her, Renee hadn’t seen her way clear to being a single mother.
So she’d visited Mr. Truscott, Tate’s father, and told him that she wanted him to facilitate a closed adoption. She didn’t want to go through Social Services. Didn’t want her mother to find out from any of the people she knew who worked there.
Renee thought she had covered her tracks. Thought she had done everything necessary to put her past behind her.
Now the baby she thought had been adopted by a couple living thousands of miles away in the Yukon, the baby she never thought she would ever see again, was sitting in her store. She was real. Sweet. Adorable.
Renee couldn’t breathe. Her lungs couldn’t pull in enough air.
She pressed her hand against her chest, trying to slow her heart down, wishing time would stop.
Dear Lord, how could this have happened? How could her past have invaded her present so dramatically? Her daughter was supposed to remain safely in the past.
Not here in her present. Not so vividly alive and...here.
She closed her eyes, trying to pull in another breath. Trying to figure out how she was going to process this information.
Her throat closed as the ever-present sorrow raised its dark head. How was she supposed to keep working with Addison now, knowing who she was?
“Renee? What’s wrong?” Tate stood in the doorway, concern etched on his features. “Are you okay?”
Reality washed over Renee.
Tate was her little girl’s father.
She looked at him as her thoughts tumbled around in her head. “I’m sorry,” she mumbled. “I just... The pict
ures...”
She took another breath, the puzzlement on Tate’s face showing her how confused she sounded. But how to explain?
She struggled to gather her thoughts, pull herself back together. He had to know.
She was about to speak, when Addison appeared behind him, peeking around her father, a frown pulling her delicate eyebrows together.
“Are you okay?”
Renee couldn’t stop her mind flashing back to the memory of the first time she saw Addison.
A tiny baby, red face, eyes scrunched closed, hair dark as ink. Too easily Renee remembered how she’d traced her daughter’s features and marveled at her delicate eyebrows. Let her miniature fingers curl around hers, the hours and hours of unrelenting labor pain washed away in that precious moment.
She wasn’t going to do it, Renee remembered thinking. She was going to keep the baby in spite of her mother lying in a coma in a hospital two hours away. In spite of how impossible it would be for her to raise this baby and take care of her mother on her own.
But then the doctor came to give her an update on her mother just as she was struggling with her decision, this precious child in her arms.
The doctor looked so solemn and Renee felt everything she had imagined, even if only for a few fleeting moments, slipping away.
Her mother’s back was broken. There was no way to repair it. Her mother was going to be in a wheelchair for the rest of her life.
Renee knew she couldn’t take care of her mother and a baby at the same time. And she knew her first priority was her mother. Given what had happened.
So when the nurse came to take her baby away she relinquished her with a prayer that she would be taken in by a loving family who could give her everything Renee knew she couldn’t.
Renee drew in a long, steadying breath as regret and sorrow shivered like icy fingers down her back.
You couldn’t take care of her, Renee reminded herself.
Though her mother had promised to help take care of the baby, that promise was untenable when the doctor brought her news of her mother’s diagnosis.
She dragged her gaze away from Addison, looking straight ahead at the range of mountains she saw rising over the tops of the buildings across the alley from hers.
They’d always been here. Solid. Protecting. She’d grown up with them surrounding her, played in their shadow, used the movement of the sun down their sides to determine when it was time to head home.
“I lift up mine eyes to the mountains.”
The words of the psalm slipped into her mind, soothing her. The Lord would help her deal with this new problem. Besides, it was only for the next six weeks. Six weeks until she and her mother were gone.
And what would her mother think if she found out about Addison? Could she keep that away from her?
Her heart plunged again, sorrow clawed at her.
She couldn’t. She simply couldn’t tell her. Her mother had this once in a lifetime opportunity to take part in the therapy that would have her walking again.
And Renee owed her that far more than anything else.
She pushed herself away from the brick wall, forced her stiff lips into a smile, then turned to face Tate and Addison.
“I’m okay,” she said, her voice a reedy sound. “I was just feeling faint.”
Tate’s frown told her he didn’t believe her. “You were saying something about a picture?”
“Nothing. It’s fine. I just...I haven’t been feeling well. Too much stress I think.” She gave him a tight smile, then walked past him and Addison, heading to the back room of the scrapbook store, Addison trotting along behind her. “Are we going to finish sorting the pictures?” Addison asked.
How could she do this? How could she look at pictures of her baby in the arms of another woman?
Then her own mother appeared by the table, looking from her to Addison, concern on her features, her hands resting on the arms of her wheelchair. Renee was reminded of the reason she had given up her baby in the first place. “Is everything okay? I saw you running outside.”
Renee kept her smile pasted on her face. “Everything is fine. I was just short of air.”
Her mother’s frown deepened. “Are you sure you’re okay?”
Renee wished everyone would stop peppering her with questions. All she wanted was to get through the next half hour without falling apart.
“I’m okay,” she said more sharply than she’d intended.
Thankfully, her mother turned her chair around to tend to another customer.
Renee swallowed, her heart still fluttering in her chest. She grabbed the edge of the table, concentrating on the pictures.
They’re just pictures, she reminded herself. Pictures of other people. Don’t think of them as pictures of your baby. Addison belongs to Tate. She’s not a part of your life.
“So, let’s get these sorted,” she said, surprised her voice sounded so normal considering how hard it was for her to breathe.
Thankfully, Addison didn’t notice anything wrong and eagerly spread the pictures out, looking over her shoulder at Tate, who had joined them. “You have to help me with this, Daddy,” she said.
“Sure thing, sweetie.”
In her peripheral vision, Renee caught Tate shooting her another concerned glance, which she chose to ignore. She had a job to do, and Tate was as much a part of her problem as Addison.
The father of her baby.
The man she had unexpected feelings for.
The next fifteen minutes were agony for Renee as Tate and Addison sorted through the pictures, chatting about various things, consulting Renee as to how they should lay them out. And always, in every picture, there was Molly. Blonde, beautiful, smiling. The perfect mother, according to Addison’s stories.
The mother Renee never could have been.
“I think that’s it,” Tate said, laying the last picture on one of the piles on the table. “We don’t want the book to get too long.”
“Okay. Good.” Renee glanced over her shoulder at the clock, then straightened as she turned back to Tate and Addison. “I’m sorry, but I just remembered I have another appointment in about fifteen minutes. So, I don’t think it’s worth getting started on putting the pictures in the book today.”
“Aw. Really?” Addison’s wail cut into her heart, but what cut harder was the truth Renee had just discovered. “Can’t you change it?”
Renee gave her what she hoped was a regretful smile. “Sorry, sweetie. I can’t.”
She caught Tate’s puzzled look, realizing how this looked through his eyes. First Renee’s initial reaction to Addison. Then the dramatic exit a little while ago. Now she looked like she was brushing them off.
Which she was. Kinsley didn’t need to have her go over the printing of her potential photography brochures right now.
“If you want, my mother can help you start the book,” she said, her mouth growing tired from holding her smile.
Addison pouted as she looked down at the pictures, then shook her head. “No. I want you to help me.”
Did the little girl know on some subconscious level who she was? Was that why she was so stuck on having Renee and only Renee help her?
Renee dismissed the questions, her gaze sliding over Tate, who still looked confused. She knew she had to talk to him and explain what was going on, but not now.
Then another thought slipped in.
What would Tate’s reaction be to this revelation?
She pushed the question aside, as well. For now, she just had to keep moving. Operate on autopilot and do whatever came next.
“So, we can come back tomorrow?” Addison asked.
Renee tapped her lips with her fingers, making a show of remembering something important. “You know, let me check my appointment book. I think I might have something going on tomorrow after school. I’ll call your dad tomorrow and let him know, okay?”
She didn’t want Addison’s disappointment to influence her, but the little girl’s exag
gerated pout hooked into her heart.
She glanced at Tate, raising her eyebrows in question.
“Sure. Sounds good,” he said, his voice suddenly chilly.
She guessed he knew she was putting Addison off, but right now his opinion of her was secondary to her self-preservation.
He surged to his feet, grabbing his jacket and shoving his arms into it. “C’mon, honey. We should go.”
He flicked a hand toward the pictures on the table. “Should we take these along or leave them here?”
“Just leave...them here,” Renee stammered, disappointed at her reaction to him. His muted anger bothered her in a way she couldn’t examine right now. “They’re not a bother.”
“Okay. Let’s go, Addison. We’ll come back when it’s convenient for Ms. Albertson.”
He’d been calling her Renee until now.
She kept her head down as he and Addison walked past her, realizing how guilty she must look. She managed to hold it together as father and daughter left the store. Then she stumbled to the bathroom and locked the door.
She fought to keep her breath steady, fought to keep the sorrow pushing at the fragile barriers she had spent years constructing against the memories.
Her little girl.
Here. In Rockyview.
Why now?
She swallowed and swallowed and then when she could hold it back no longer, she pressed her hands to her face and wept.
Chapter Four
“So, that’s all we need to do,” Tate said, smiling at Tanner and Sabine Bond as they scribbled their signatures on the papers on his desk. When they were done, he slipped a copy in an official-looking folder embossed with the name of his father’s law firm on the front. “I’ll keep one copy of your will on file here in this office, and this copy is for your own records,” he said, pushing the document toward them.
Ever Caring Page 4
