by Barb Han
Chelsea laughed.
Yeah, right.
That was about as likely as Skylar getting a job and pitching in to pay the bills.
Locking the door to her place—her new restaurant—caused tears to well in her eyes. Happy tears.
She turned toward her pickup. She gasped and took a step back, only to be stopped by the industrial metal door.
Travis’s flat smile was more like a sneer.
“Baby, you’ve been hard to track down.”
Chapter Four
“I have no idea where you’ve been and what you’ve been doing, but I have a document that says I have no legal ties to you anymore,” Chelsea said. Four years of anger, abandonment and betrayal welled inside her, threatening to bubble over. She fisted her hands and readied to draw her knee up, fast and hard, straight to Travis’s groin if he took one step closer.
He seemed shorter than before but it was probably her perspective that had changed. At five feet, ten inches, with a decent build, he still paled in comparison with Nate Kent. Travis had sandy-blond hair and hazel eyes. Some people would consider him attractive with the defined jawline and runner’s build. Not Chelsea. That ship had sailed the minute she’d seen behind the façade to the real man.
“A man has a right to see his wife and child—”
“Ex-wife,” she corrected. “And you lost your rights when you disappeared with all of our money and left me with nothing to take care of a newborn.”
“People make mistakes,” he countered with one of those smiles that had made her heart flutter years ago. Standing there now, it was hard to know what she’d seen in him. She’d been young and naïve. He’d been a heck of a lot more charming when she hadn’t known what a heartless jerk he’d turn out to be.
“Listen, baby—”
“Don’t call me that. My name is Chelsea.” She’d be damned if she let him get away with any of that sweet talk now. Besides, she’d never been big on being called baby. Kids could be manipulated. She was a grown woman, an ex-wife, and had the scars to prove it. No one—and that especially meant Travis—would ever be given the chance take advantage of her again. She was reminded of the old saying “Fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice, shame on me.”
If she fell for that easy charm and smile again, she deserved every moment of heartache that came along with it.
Travis stared at her for an uncomfortable moment before he made a show of glancing around. There was nothing genuine about the look in his eyes. She could see that so clearly now.
“Where’s the little one?” he asked.
He didn’t know if she’d given birth to a girl or boy. How on earth could a man not know something that important about his own child? “You would know if you’d showed up at the hospital four years ago. Move out of my way. I have plans.”
His smile turned into a sneer as she tried to push past him. A dark cloud passed behind his hazel eyes.
“You’re mad. I get that. But we had something special, bab—”
She shot him a look so harsh he stopped mid-word.
“Chelsea,” he continued. “I did something I shouldn’t have, but it can’t be too late to be a family. Our child needs a father.”
“We’ll see about that,” was all Chelsea said. She hadn’t asked for child support in the divorce and she wondered if he’d even received the paperwork. Of course, he’d had to have by now. A wave of panic washed over her. She imagined the possibility of court battles for custody and the need for a lawyer. She’d never been anxious before Travis. Now she lived with her nerves on the edge. Being broke and bringing up a child on her own did that to her.
And it was great that he was now saying that Skylar was his in the first place. When she’d first told him the news about the pregnancy, he’d accused her of sleeping with one of her employees.
“There’s not a judge in Texas who would deny me the right to see my child. You better get used to the idea of seeing me around, because I plan to be in both of your lives.” He brought his hand up to touch her face, but she smacked it away before he made contact.
“Don’t touch me, Travis,” she stated as calmly as she could with her heart hammering against her ribs. She needed to talk to a lawyer to find out her legal rights. “What gives you the right to waltz back into our lives? Where have you been?”
“Alaska,” he said. “I went to work on a pipeline so I could save money to pay you back and see if you’d give me another chance.”
Okay, her ex was seriously delusional if he thought she would look at him twice let alone consider a reconciliation. He’d have to be delusional or drunk, and she didn’t smell alcohol on his breath. If he had been in Alaska and that whole story turned out to be true, she might have to figure out a supervised visitation schedule. How many nights had she held her infant daughter and wished the little girl could grow up with a father?
Too many to count, a voice in the back of her mind said.
But before Travis got a chance with their daughter, Chelsea needed to know he wouldn’t disappear again. Her angel deserved a man who stuck around, not someone who popped in and out of her life every four or five years when it was convenient for him.
The timing of his showing up again with Chelsea about to open a restaurant following receiving an inheritance was suspect. None of this exchange was sitting right with her. She figured she could do an easy enough internet search to check out his story. She could make some calls. She’d never filed criminal charges against him for draining their bank account and, technically, the money was as much his as it had been hers. She’d been crazy enough to trust him to put both names on the accounts. He’d showed an interest in her growing company and she’d had a vision of running a family business someday.
“You can start by paying your child the money you stole from us, Travis. Don’t waste your time trying to win me back. If you stick around this time and prove you really want to be a father to your child, we can talk about you two meeting. Until then—”
Travis’s sneer intensified as he took a threatening step toward her. He was so close she could smell his aftershave, which had been put on with gusto.
Instinctively, Chelsea turned her face to the side and winced. And then she caught herself acting afraid. She remembered that the best way to stop a bully was to confront one.
She turned her face toward his. He grabbed her chin and forced a kiss on her lips before she could push him back a step.
He came at her again, but this time she threw her right knee into his groin.
Travis brought his hands up to the door to brace himself and keep from dropping to the ground. He blew out a couple of sharp breaths as Chelsea tried to duck underneath his arm.
She managed to break away until he spun around and grabbed her by the arm.
“You’re hurting me,” she said through clenched teeth. She dropped down to her knees, breaking his grip.
“When did you get so mean?” Travis asked through labored breaths as she stood up and sidestepped him.
“Go away, Travis.”
“Not until I see my child.” He seemed to know right where to hit her. Four years ago, it was her financial security. Now, money paled in comparison to the need to protect her daughter from harm. She wanted to tell him that would happen as soon as hell froze over.
Checking into her legal rights just became top priority.
She stalked to her truck that was parked on the street, half expecting him to charge up behind her again. This exchange was making her late to pick up Skylar.
Chelsea made it to her pickup and jumped inside. She immediately closed and locked the door. And then she drove around the block a couple of times to make sure Travis was gone and hadn’t followed her.
When she was certain he was long gone, she pulled over and let the school know she was running late.
Ten minutes later Chelsea pull
ed into the parking lot and found a space. It wasn’t hard because it was empty. Surprising tears sprang to her eyes. Travis in Skylar’s life should be a good thing. He was her father. Knowing what he’d done and what he was capable of doing slammed into Chelsea.
A car pulled into the lot and she watched it all the way until it parked. Relief flooded her when a female stepped out of the driver’s side. Chelsea wished she’d taken note of what Travis had driven.
She hurried inside the building. There were two kids besides Skylar, and Chelsea was grateful that she wasn’t the last one there.
“I’m so sorry to be late,” Chelsea said to the head mistress, Mrs. Bartels.
“She had a great day,” Mrs. Bartels informed her. “She was a little shy at first, but that all changed once she got comfortable with the other students.”
Normally that kind of news would make Chelsea smile and ease the tension she’d been feeling.
“That’s really good to hear,” Chelsea finally said. “Thank you.”
“Would you like me to walk you to her classroom?” Mrs. Bartels asked.
The female from the parking lot rushed in.
“Hello, Mrs. Stanley,” Mrs. Bartels said.
“Hi, Elaine,” the woman responded. “How’d he do today?”
Chelsea excused herself. She needed to see her baby, to know that Skylar was okay, even though she already did on some level. If there’d been trouble, Mrs. Bartels would’ve phoned. And, besides, Travis didn’t know he had a daughter let alone where she was.
Skylar’s eyes lit up when she saw her mother step into the room. Her little face broke into a wide smile. “Mommy!”
Chelsea made eye contact with the teacher, Mrs. Eaton, who smiled her approval.
Dropping to her knees, she welcomed the little angel who had flown over to her. Those tiny arms wrapped around Chelsea’s neck brought an unexpected tear.
“I’m so happy to see you.” She held her little girl a bit tighter.
“I had fun. I colored a picture of an elephant and rode a real bike.” Skylar’s enthusiasm for her day eased some of Chelsea’s guilt for being away from her so long.
“It sounds like you were very busy,” Chelsea agreed. She pulled back a little to look into her daughter’s eyes. “And you get to come back tomorrow.”
Skylar’s face nearly burst from smiling so hard as she nodded. “Do you think he’ll be here?”
A wave of panic ripped through Chelsea. There was no way Skylar could be talking about Travis. “Who?”
Her gaze darted toward Mrs. Eaton for an answer.
“You know,” Skylar said, making eyes at her mother. “The fireman.”
“Probably not, sweetie.” Relief washed over Chelsea. “But all your new friends will be. Now go get your coat.”
Before Skylar trotted away, she said, “He was right about Henry. My teacher has a frog.”
Mrs. Stanley came into the room and the little boy who’d been sitting at the same coloring table as Skylar perked up.
“Hey, buddy,” Mrs. Stanley said, bending to one knee. “Are you ready?”
He dutifully walked to his cubby and got his things. Skylar struggled with hers.
Chelsea walked over to help her daughter with her coat as a man’s voice from the hallway shot through her. She sucked in a burst of air and spun around.
Mrs. Eaton looked at Chelsea, confusion stamped on her forehead. A man in a janitor’s shirt nodded and walked in to empty the trash.
“Sorry,” Chelsea mumbled as she led Skylar out of the classroom, down the hallway and into the parking lot. It was dark outside now and she watched wearily as every car drove by while she buckled her daughter into the car seat.
* * *
CHELSEA PULLED INTO her driveway and her heart clenched. An unfamiliar truck was parked on the pad next to the house. Complete panic was a stalking panther coming up from behind. Chelsea used the rearview mirror to glance at her daughter, who was strapped into her car seat in the back.
What if Travis knew where they lived?
Chelsea cursed the wave of fear threatening to suck her under. She’d already dealt with him once today and wasn’t sure she could take another round. She couldn’t tell Skylar to stay in the truck alone and nothing in her wanted to go inside to see who was there.
She grabbed the gearshift, ready to put the truck in Reverse on a moment’s notice. Maybe she could wait it out. She could park down the street and see who the truck belonged to.
“Momma, are we going inside?” Skylar looked at Chelsea with the most adorable albeit incredulous look on her four-year-old face.
“Maybe in just a minute, sweetheart. I’m not sure who that truck belongs to,” Chelsea admitted.
“What if Nanna is sick again and needs our help?” Skylar asked.
In Chelsea’s panic about her run-in with Travis, the episode with her mother this morning had slipped her mind. Well, that got Chelsea moving and her mind spinning.
“You’re right. Let’s go inside. But hold Mommy’s hand and stay behind me until I say it’s okay.” Skylar was old enough to unbuckle her car seat strap. Chelsea held the door open so the little girl could climb out.
Every step toward the front door caused Chelsea’s heart to pound faster against her rib cage. Tamping down her fears, she squeezed Skylar’s hand once they got onto the porch.
Skylar took her mother’s advice, hiding behind her leg.
Chelsea couldn’t bring herself to put her key in the lock.
“Can I do it, Momma?” Skylar always wanted to be the one to do the honors.
Normally, Chelsea wouldn’t have a problem letting her. The place had one of those old-fashioned skeleton keys and she was pretty sure the door, lock and key were original to the house. The place needed some updating once Chelsea got on her feet. For now, it was her own personal piece of paradise. The thought of Travis invading her territory made her downright furious. He’d taken so much already. He didn’t get to take this.
Chelsea worked up enough courage to open that door and face whatever was inside.
The sound of a man’s laugh from inside the house washed over her. The familiar timbre sent warmth spilling down her back. Nate Kent.
His laughter was quickly followed by her mother’s.
Chelsea walked into the hallway. A chill hit her. The heater had better not be out. The weather was turning and January in Texas could bring all kinds of cold snaps.
Her nerves were beyond fried at this point, even though her rebellious stomach freefell at the sight of Nate standing in her kitchen. Her mother was nowhere in sight but Chelsea could hear the woman’s voice and Nate was angled toward the kitchen table. Thoughts of her mother’s episode this morning struck hard.
“Is everything okay in here?” Chelsea asked the handsome near stranger. It had been an awful day and she didn’t need to make it worse by worrying about her mother. But what if something had happened to her mother?
Nate turned to look at Chelsea, causing a hundred butterflies to release in her stomach.
Under normal circumstances, she’d like to spend time getting to know Nate Kent. But the “normal” ship had sailed years ago for Chelsea. And no matter how wonderful someone seemed at first or how good-looking—and this guy hit it out of the park with his looks—she’d never truly trust another man again. Travis had done a number on her. Part of her realized that by allowing that experience to color the rest of her life, she was letting him win.
“Hey, mister.” Skylar darted around Chelsea’s leg and ran toward Nate. She’d never seen her little girl be so welcoming to a stranger before and a part of her wondered if the fast friendship had anything to do with the fact that Nate was a man. Was Skylar missing having a male figure in her life?
Chelsea was grateful for her mother’s help and presence in her daughter’s life. Even w
hile sick and requiring attention herself, the woman had been nothing short of a lifesaver. Linda McGregor had kept Chelsea from the staggering loneliness in those early days of Travis’s disappearing. She’d loved Skylar with all her heart from the moment the child had been born. And she’d pitched in to care for the little angel, which had allowed Chelsea to get back on her feet.
Working nights had made it all possible. Chelsea left for work at four. Skylar ate dinner an hour later and was in bed by seven. She’d always been an early riser and Chelsea was pretty certain she didn’t sleep for Skylar’s first three years of life. Those early years weren’t easy, but the Three Musketeers—as her mother had called them—had made it work.
Looking back, she kicked herself for not seeing through Travis sooner. He’d been charming and seemed genuine with his admission of falling for her even though he’d said he didn’t think it was possible with his background. He’d told her about a loveless childhood where he’d been bounced around from family member to family member when his mother’s “nerves” were shot. He’d said it was code for when she had to go into rehab again.
Chelsea had never met his mother, so she had no reason to doubt his claims. He’d explained that his mother and his family couldn’t come to their wedding because his mother had gone off on a bender. Chelsea had fallen for his lies.
After he’d left her and she’d searched for him, she found out that his mother was married to a pastor in a small town outside Little Rock. Chelsea’d been working long hours as her business expanded or maybe she would’ve been sharper. Lack of sleep didn’t always yield the best judgment.
Nate dropped down to his knees so he was almost eye level with Skylar, causing Chelsea’s heart to give another inappropriate flip. It was probably his training as a volunteer firefighter that had him so good with kids and not because he had some instant connection to Sky. Did part of her want Skylar to be able to connect with the handsome stranger?
She could admit that was true. Chelsea hoped her daughter would be able to trust men at some point. She’d always shied away from them and, deep down, Chelsea feared it would always be that way. There was something so totally different about Nate Kent, though. He was special.
