His Secret Daughter

by Lisa Carter

  Strict boundary lines would be essential. High fences crucial. Because, after today, suddenly he had such hopes for becoming a real part of his daughter’s life.

  “I’ve been thinking—wondering—about where Maisie and I go from here.”

  Callie’s eyes widened.

  He held up his hand. “About where all of us go from here.”

  She squared her shoulders as if bracing for a blow. “What are your thoughts?”

  How could he begin to unravel the tangle of emotion he felt when he didn’t even understand it himself?

  Jake rested the back of his head against the wall. “God has given me a piece of Maisie’s heart today.” He looked away. “Something I in no way deserved.”

  “None of us deserve His grace, but He gives it anyway.” She angled toward him, only inches separating them. “And I think Maisie’s given you more than just a piece of her heart.”

  His lips curved. “You think so?”

  For the first time it occurred to him that if he truly wanted to make a fresh, new beginning in his life, he needed to extend the same grace to Maisie’s mother. In keeping his child from him, Tiffany had greatly wronged him. But if, on his behalf, God would do this incredible transformation in Maisie’s heart, how could Jake do anything less for Tiffany?

  Please tell her I forgive her, God.

  The boulder he’d carried for almost three years lifted. And he felt able to breathe deeply—really breathe—for the first time since he’d received the divorce papers from Tiffany’s attorney.

  Forgiveness. Two months ago, nearly an unthinkable idea. He’d changed since coming to Apple Valley Farm. This place had changed him. Knowing the Jacksons had changed him. Most of all, God’s love had changed him.

  And now Maisie’s love had changed him, because more than anything, he wanted to be the father she deserved. A father she could respect and be proud of. In the truest sense of the word, he wanted to be her dad.

  But he needed to talk through a more immediate issue with Callie. She was expecting—counting on—him to leave in a few weeks. He prayed for the right words to convince her to allow him to be more of a permanent part of Maisie’s life.

  “I thought I’d call my buddy in Houston. Let him know I won’t be taking the job.” He focused on the stair below them. “I’d like to settle nearby. So Maisie and I...”

  Callie rocked back.

  He opened his palms. “Maisie would stay here at the orchard with you and Nash. She belongs with you. That isn’t going to change, I promise you, Callie. You’ve got nothing to fear from me.”

  She exhaled in a slow trickle of breath.

  “After what Tiffany’s likely told you, you have no reason to trust me—”

  “I do trust you, Jake. It’s Tiffany I...” She dropped her head, denying him access to her eyes.

  Callie Jackson’s expressive brown eyes were a window into her soul.

  “We could make a formal custody agreement.” He gulped. “If you’d allow me to spend time with Maisie. At your discretion, of course.”

  Callie knotted her hands. “I’d never keep your daughter from you, Jake. Especially not now. No matter what, she will always be your daughter. Yours.” Her mouth hardened. “And no one else’s.”

  She sounded angry, yet the anger wasn’t directed at him. If not him, though, who? Maybe Tiffany. He wasn’t the only one Tiffany had placed in a difficult position.

  Callie tucked a fiery tendril of hair behind her ear. “And you will be here, Jake, to watch her grow up. Like a father should.”

  “I won’t be here, here.”

  She stiffened. “You said—”

  “Apple season will be over soon. You won’t need me on the farm anymore.”

  Her chin came up. “That’s not true. We will need you.”

  Jake shook his head. “I think it would be better if I moved out.”

  “But—”

  “I can rent a room or an apartment in Truelove. Whatever it takes to stay close to Maisie—I’ll bus tables at The Mason Jar if I have to. Dig ditches.”

  “There’s no reason for you to leave the farm.” Her mouth thinned. “Do you hate it here so much?”

  Hate the orchard? Was she kidding? This already was closer to home than Jake had believed he’d ever come in this life.

  Yet, due to the emotions he felt for Callie Jackson, a little distance wasn’t only wise, but entirely necessary.

  To not reveal the depth of feeling she inspired within him. He fought the urge to run his fingers through her tawny tresses. Battling the need to touch her mouth with his lips.

  Jake couldn’t go there with her. “I don’t think it would be wise for us to overcomplicate an already complicated situation, Callie.”

  Her eyes blazed. “You think so, do you, Jake McAbee?”

  Jake fidgeted, not liking the low purr in her voice. “It’s the smart thing to do, considering.”

  “Considering what?” She sprang to her feet, towering over him for once. “You should be careful what you wish for. Because one day, you might get it.”

  He’d figured she’d be glad to see the back of him since he always made her uncomfortable. Not for the first time did he think that women spoke a different language, which showed how little he’d ever understood women.

  Crossing his arms, he rose. In the narrow stairwell, one deep breath and his chest would brush against her arm. He uncrossed his arms, determined to keep his distance.

  High walls... Tall fences...

  “You are the most...” She jabbed his T-shirt with her finger.

  At the touch of her hand, a lightning bolt of fire and ice sizzled his nerve endings.

  Her finger punctuated her words. “The most infuriating—”

  Before he could stop himself, he caught her hand, loosely encircling her wrist with his fingers.

  She gasped, her eyelashes fluttering.

  “Whereas you, Callie Jackson, are the most lovely woman I’ve ever had the pleasure of knowing.”

  And suddenly the space between them disappeared.

  Cupping her elbow in his palm, his other hand pressed into the small of her back. She didn’t move away. Maybe he no longer made her so uncomfortable. Perhaps she didn’t dislike him after all.

  Swaying into him, she lifted her face, and the ache to taste her mouth intensified. He pulled her close. His heart jackhammering in his chest, he bent his head. He tilted his chin. Her lips parted and—

  “Cawee! Wursty, Cawee!”

  They broke apart so fast he fell into the wall.

  Hand to her throat, she scrambled up the stairs. “Maisie’s thirsty.” Callie edged past him, her sweater scraping against his arm.

  Jake scrubbed his face as she disappeared into Maisie’s room. If Maisie hadn’t called out, what would have happened with Callie?

  This...this...attraction? Whatever he felt for Callie was exactly why he needed to leave the farm. Before something else happened between them.

  Before the desire to kiss Callie overcame what he knew to be right. He could never be right for someone like her. And if he continued on this foolish path, he’d only succeed in losing the one person who’d ever loved him—his daughter.

  He slipped into his bedroom. If Maisie hadn’t called out, would Callie have kissed him back? Or spurned him like Tiffany?

  It turned out to be a long night of staring at the ceiling.

  Because, despite everything, he couldn’t stop pondering what it would’ve been like to feel Callie’s lips against his own.

  Chapter Twelve

  The next day the bell jangled over the entrance as Callie stepped inside The Mason Jar. The smell of hash browns, ham and eggs permeated the crowded diner. Behind the counter, coffee percolated on the burner of the coffeemaker. She scanned the diner for Amber.

  Maisi
e had gone with Pop-Pop and Jake to the hardware store. A not-to-be-missed event for a farm girl like Maisie McAbee. She’d insisted Jake carry her down the sidewalk.

  There was something about a strong man holding a child in his arms... Was there anything sweeter?

  Callie had decided to make the most of her free time by seeking out Amber. She desperately needed an objective viewpoint on the crazy tangle of emotions she felt for Maisie’s dad. And when she told Amber about what had happened last night—

  That was the thing. She couldn’t decide if she was happy or sad about what had not happened on the stairs.

  Door swinging behind her, Amber emerged from the kitchen. On her shoulder, she carefully balanced a tray laden with plates of French toast. Callie took a seat in a recently vacated booth, waiting for her friend to deliver the order to a customer.

  Spotting Callie across the room, ErmaJean and IdaLee waved. GeorgeAnne sipped her coffee. Callie nodded, but lest they mistake her politeness for an invitation, she directed her attention to her BFF at the nearby table.

  Her wheat-colored hair slicked away from her heart-shaped face into a tight ponytail, Amber appeared thinner than the last time they’d talked, the shadows under her dear friend’s eyes more pronounced. Callie reconsidered laying the burden of her troubles upon Amber’s already overloaded shoulders.

  But before she could beat a hasty retreat, Amber carried her now-empty tray over toward Callie.

  “Hey, girl.” Amber’s blue eyes sparkled. “Let me clear the table for you—”

  “Don’t worry about me.” Callie started to slide out of the booth. “You’re busy.”

  Amber blocked her escape. “I’m due a break anyway. Busing the table will give me a good excuse to linger.”

  Setting the tray on the table, Amber began loading the dirty utensils and glasses. “Besides, it’s good to see a friendly face.” She dropped her gaze, scraping the leftover food onto one plate and stacking the rest.

  “What do you— Oh.” Callie’s eyes widened. At the far end of the counter, Amber’s estranged father hunkered on a stool, nursing his coffee. “Why is he here?”

  Amber’s lips flattened. “Because he wants to make sure I don’t forget my mistake.”

  Callie frowned. “Or maybe he’s just checking to make sure you’re okay.”

  “Like he cares.”

  Callie pursed her lips. “Your father is a proud man. It’s hard for him to admit he was wrong. To say he’s sorry.”

  Amber’s eyebrows lowered. “But he wasn’t wrong. Not about that no-good ex-husband of mine.”

  Callie leaned over the discarded pile of napkins. “You’re exhausted, Amber. You can’t keep working at The Mason Jar all day and then take classes every night.”

  Amber smoothed her hands down her jeans. “I’m fine.” But she wouldn’t meet Callie’s probing gaze. “Like my dad said, I made my bed hard and now I’ll have to lie on it.”

  “My dad and I, we want to help.”

  Amber shook her head. “I appreciate the offer, sweet friend, but your family is swamped this time of year with apple season. I couldn’t ask you to take on two more little girls.”

  Callie lifted her chin. “I happen to love little girls.”

  Amber smiled, and the tired lines in her forehead eased for a moment. “My girls love you and Maisie. Maybe after apple season...” The lost, forlorn look returned as her eyes cut toward her stiff-necked father. “But it’s up to me to make a better life for us. And no matter what, I’m determined to show my father I can.”

  Proving it to herself, too? But Callie didn’t say that.

  Amber slid into the booth opposite Callie. “My love life may be in shambles, but you, on the other hand?” She grinned. “I’d say your love life is on an upswing.”

  Callie sniffed. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

  “Tell me another one.” Amber nudged her head toward the diner wall. “What’s with that, though?”

  Callie peered over the graying heads of Truelove’s matchmakers to the community bulletin board. Squinting, she took in the notice tacked onto the corkboard.

  Below the words Looking to Rent, Jake’s name and cell number.

  She slumped. “Jake thinks it would be better if he moved out of the farmhouse.”

  “Better why?”

  Taking a deep breath, she gave Amber the condensed version of the events of the past seventy-two hours.

  Amber’s eyes shone. “I’m so happy Jake and Maisie have connected.” Her smile fell. “That’s what you wanted. Or not? I’m confused.”

  Welcome to the club.

  “He’s not taking Maisie away from the orchard, is he?” Amber half rose. “If that’s what he—”

  “Jake isn’t planning to take Maisie anywhere. He believes she belongs with me.”

  “So why the sad face?”

  “I’m not—” Callie bit her lip.

  Okay, she was feeling a bit blue at the prospect of not having Jake McAbee around the farm. Though “a bit” didn’t even begin to describe the myriad conflicting emotions she felt when it came to the ex-soldier.

  “Why do I get the feeling I’m missing something? Unless you and Jake...” Her mouth dropped. “Did you and Jake... Did Jake kiss you?”

  “I wish...” Callie sucked in a breath. “No, I don’t wish...” Groaning, her head fell back onto the seat. “I don’t know what I wish.”

  Amber laughed.

  She stared at the popcorn ceiling. “But with Jake moving out, I guess I won’t ever have the chance to find out what I wish.”

  “Girl, you’ve got it bad.”

  Callie straightened. “I do not have it bad. He’s Maisie’s father. We’ve only known each other a few months.”

  “Not true. You got to know each other through email before you ever met.” Amber shrugged. “Trust me, after my disastrous experience, slow and steady is the best way for a relationship to develop. So what are you not telling me, Callie Rose Jackson?”

  Callie fiddled with a sugar packet. “Last night we were both so happy after what happened with Maisie that he... I...” She took a deep breath. “We almost kissed.”

  Amber jerked her thumb at the board. “Hence, his panic-induced reaction.” Her nose crinkled. “Men. So typical.”

  Callie planted her elbows on the sticky tabletop. “Jake’s not like that. He’s wonderful. He’s smart. He’s hardworking. He loves Maisie so much...” Her eyes misted.

  “Maybe things were moving too fast for him last night. Some guys—especially quiet ones like Jake McAbee—like to turn things over in their mind before they take the next step in a relationship.”

  “I’m not sure he’ll ever be ready for another relationship.” Callie’s chin dropped. “Not after Tiff.”

  Amber’s features closed. “Is this about Jake’s inability or yours to accept his past? If him once being with Tiffany is a nonstarter for you, then it’s better he move out now and you put him out of your mind.”

  Callie was disconcerted by the uncustomary glint in her best friend’s eyes. But she’d struck a nerve. This was Amber’s worst fear—that no man would ever be able to get past the fact she’d been married, albeit so disastrously, to someone else.

  She snagged Amber’s hand. She held on when Amber might have pulled away. “You deserve to find love again, Amber Dawn Fleming. It will happen. I know it will, someday.”

  “Perhaps someday.” But Amber looked away as if she didn’t believe her.

  “And it doesn’t matter to me that he was once married to Tiff. It’s—” Callie clamped her lips together.

  How could she have a relationship with a man from whom she kept secrets?

  “What’s holding you back?”

  “It’s complicated.”

  Almost Jake’s exact words to her.

&n
bsp; She scrubbed her forehead. “He’s determined to move out. And after apple season, we’ll return to being polite strangers. I’ll probably only see him when he picks up Maisie to spend time with her.”

  Amber got out of the booth. “I wouldn’t worry too much about him moving out.”

  “Why not?”

  Amber balanced the tray on her hip. “Take a look—that’s why.”

  Scraping her chair across the café linoleum, Miss GeorgeAnne rose and untacked Jake’s notice from the bulletin board. She stuffed it into her voluminous quilted tote.

  Callie shook her head. “But he’ll only put up another one. All over town, too, I expect.”

  “And they’ll take them down, each and every one.” Amber wagged her finger. “I hear they’ve already put out the word. Woe to anyone who so much as offers him couch space. No worries. Jake McAbee isn’t going anywhere.”

  Callie unfolded from the booth.

  Amber batted her eyes. “You know how relentless the matchmakers are when they get a notion in their heads.”

  Callie was almost afraid to ask. “And what idea is that?”

  “That Jake McAbee has found his true home in Truelove, North Carolina.” Without losing her grip on the tray, Amber gave her a gentle hip bump. “True love on an apple orchard with his sweet little daughter and a certain home-grown, budding photographer.”

  “I’m not a—”

  “You are a photographer, and if these ladies have anything to say about it, the three of you will get the happily-ever-after you deserve.”

  “Happily-ever-after?”

  “I hear that’s possible.” Amber shoved off toward the kitchen. “At least, for some people.”

  After that heartrending statement, Callie wanted to call her friend back. But how could she explain Amber was wrong about her?

  She’d perpetuated Tiff’s cover-up. It wasn’t Amber or Jake who didn’t deserve a happily-ever-after. It was Callie.

  * * *

  His shoulders tensed. Jake didn’t understand how, but he knew somewhere behind him stood Callie.