Caught in the Act (The Davenports)

by Law, Kim

  And the fact that every time he checked the news stations, his daughter had been on them.

  He picked up the remote and tried again. It took a few minutes, but yes, there she was. Blonde head ducked to avoid the cameras, rushing into the Davenport house in front of Cat.

  All thanks to his brother.

  Brody had escorted Thomas back to his house that morning, remaining at the front door until he’d left. Then he’d stood in the middle of his kitchen and fumed. He didn’t know Annabelle yet, hadn’t even met her, and already he was protective. He’d wanted to get in his car and drive over to Cat’s.

  And the real kicker was, it hadn’t purely been Annabelle he’d wanted to protect.

  Thus, he’d gotten even angrier.

  Cat had looked fine in the footage that had been captured. And clearly she’d made it back into her home. Her kids were with her; they’d made it back in, too. But all of them had been running. As if the blasted paparazzi had been chasing them. It made his blood pressure soar. And it pissed him off that he cared.

  A soft rap sounded on his door, and he looked sharply around. It was still too early for Annabelle, only . . .

  She stood in his doorway.

  He rose, and they stared across the small space at each other. He wasn’t angry now. He was terrified. When his eyeballs began to burn from not blinking, he broke contact and cleared his throat.

  “Annabelle.” He stepped out from behind his desk.

  She was so beautiful.

  And she looked like Cat. She was built the same, had the same silky hair, and he could see a similar tilt of her chin that Cat got when she was unsure about something. It put a lump in his throat and he suddenly imagined Cat at sixteen. Scared, alone, having just given birth, and handing over her daughter.

  Cat was too giving a woman for that not to have destroyed her.

  “Come in,” he said. He put Cat out of mind as he motioned with his hands. “Please.”

  Annabelle nodded and stepped into the room. Her eyes were immediately drawn to the shelves lining his wall, and he wished he’d learned a thing or two from Cat. He should have cleaned up his books. Put some order to things. His daughter would think he was a slob.

  “This is awesome,” she finally said. She moved to the shelves and pulled down one of his favorites. A manual on sixteenth-century European politics.

  “You like history?” he asked.

  A crooked smile flitted across her mouth. “I plan to get a doctorate.”

  Her words excited his heart. She was a part of him. She had his likes.

  When she faced him again, she kept the book in her hands, and he could see the intelligence behind her eyes. Patricia Weathers had done okay for his daughter. That was a huge relief of a worry he hadn’t even known he’d had.

  “So you’re my dad,” she deduced.

  He held his hands out to his sides. “Looks like.”

  “It’s the eyes.”

  “What?”

  “My eyes. They look like your eyes. I got Cat’s hair and short stature, and your eyes. I’d always wondered. My adoptive mother is a six-foot brunette. We are clearly not blood related.”

  He didn’t know anything about her mother, but her other words stuck in his head. She had wondered about him. Wow. He would have wondered about her, too. If he’d known she existed.

  Which immediately brought him back to anger toward Cat.

  Annabelle put the book down on a chair and reached for another. The first one fell to the floor. She didn’t seem to notice. This made Brody smile.

  “Ohmygod. I’ve been looking for this book for years.” She picked up a rare illustrated study of the Mississippi Valley. He’d found it on one of his and his mom’s antiquing expeditions a few years back.

  “You collect books?” he asked. He was still standing in the middle of his office, as if unsure what to do next. Because he was unsure.

  “Only history books. I found this in the Library of Congress when my mom took me there in junior high. I’ve been looking for my own copy since.”

  “You can have it.”

  She looked up at him. “You’d give it to me?”

  He’d give her anything. And how was it that that was the case? He’d just met her.

  Yet the wealth of emotion he felt for her was real. It was overpowering. It made him wonder again how Cat had managed to hand her over.

  And it made him think about all that he’d missed out on.

  “How long are you staying?” he asked. His mother had begged him to let her be here for this, but he’d wanted to meet Annabelle on his own first. He had promised to call, though, if today was it. He didn’t want his mother missing out on the chance to meet her only granddaughter.

  “Through Saturday. My mom is coming back and we’ll be attending your play.”

  “Terrific.” He finally made himself move. He went to the shelves and pulled down several other books that rated as his favorites. Her eyes lit up with each one.

  Damn, she was fantastic.

  “Thank you for wanting to meet me,” he stammered like a teenager.

  She shot him a rolled-eye look and he laughed.

  “That sounded lame, didn’t it?”

  “Totally.” She grinned, and he was a goner. He fell completely in love with his daughter on the spot.

  As she continued walking the length of his shelves, reading the title of each book, she stroked a hand over the spine of a two-hundred-year-old tome. That particular book never hit his floors. There were some that got special treatment.

  She glanced over at him. “How could I not want to meet you, though? You do realize that you’re now a part of our country’s political history? An illegitimate Harrison? You can bet that’ll make the books.”

  “Then I suppose that means you’ll be in there, too.”

  “I’m counting on it.” She turned to him. The book he’d given her was held solidly against her chest. “But I’ll also be in there for my part in the changes that will someday take place in Washington.”

  The air went out of his chest. “Really? You want to go into politics?”

  “I’ll have my name on a ballot the first year I’m eligible.”

  Of course she would. She was a Davenport, after all.

  If this wasn’t his life and his daughter, he’d laugh. Whether he wanted it or not, he would be a part of politics for the rest of his life. Because unless this young lady kicked him to the curb, he was in her life for good. He supposed he might as well get used to smiling and shaking hands.

  Three bright, sunny New England days left and Cat would have the park donation in the bag. She shook hands with a local business owner who’d been helping all day, the two of them chatting about mundane things as he drank from a cold bottle of water and Cat scanned the kid zone for Becca and Tyler. She found them playing in the sand pit with several other children they’d met over the last week. JP and Vega were helping man the children’s area. Annabelle was over there, too, though it was more as an older sibling watching over her brother and sister.

  It was a sight Cat would have never imagined seeing. And it flooded her with love.

  Her oldest daughter would go back to California Sunday morning, and Cat would return to Atlanta, her vacation over. The kids’ lives would return to normal, and she had no idea what would come next for her.

  She did know one thing, though. It was looking very much as if all of it would happen without another word from Brody. Which hurt her more than she would have guessed. It had been a week since she’d seen him, and four days since he’d grudgingly replied to her last text.

  That had been way too long.

  She had heard about him, of course. Since Annabelle had met him on Monday, she’d split her time between Brody and Cat. It was strangely similar to sharing custody. Only, their child was old enough to
transport herself, so neither parent had to actually see or talk to the other.

  It was depressing, and made Cat wonder if this was what her life would have been like for the last eighteen years if she’d kept her daughter. Because love or not, making a relationship last at the age of sixteen rarely worked. The odds would have been stacked against them.

  Toss in the logistics, the fact that the world would have forever been watching, and the lack of maturity on both their parts, and she remained convinced that Annabelle being raised by Patricia had been the best thing for her. It shamed Cat to admit it, but at the same time, she felt like such a grown-up for recognizing it for what it was.

  Annabelle ambled her way over then, shaking hands and talking with a couple of locals on the way. The paparazzi that remained soaked it up, yet Cat didn’t believe for a second that Annabelle was doing it for the attention. She was doing it because it came naturally. Annabelle Weathers would someday become a public figure; Cat would bet on it. She could recognize the signs anywhere. She wondered if Brody was aware of that.

  “Did I tell you I met Brody’s mother today?” she asked Cat when she reached her side. Annabelle grabbed a yard-size trash bag from the supply pile, and the two of them moved to one of the last areas to be cleaned of construction trash. “I had lunch with them.”

  “Yeah?” Cat took one end of the bag.

  “She’s great. Entertained us the whole time with stories of the security guy you hired for her. I think she called him Tank.”

  “Stone.” Cat chuckled as she pictured Annabelle Hollister and Stone together. Cat had heard rumors that there was a bit more than security going on at Annabelle’s New Hampshire home. “But Tank fits him better.”

  “Yeah, he was a big guy. And she seemed like a great mom. Brody was protective of her. It was cute.”

  Cat could imagine how protective Brody would have been of a daughter growing up.

  “It’s a shame not everyone can have a mom like that,” Annabelle mused.

  “Tell me about it.” They moved together, Cat tossing a piece of scrap wood into the bag.

  “It’s pretty cool that I was named after her.”

  Cat peeked over at her daughter. “It’s pretty cool that Patricia kept the name. It means a lot to me that she did.”

  They both grew silent, each in her own thoughts as they worked to clean up the area. The building of the playground would wrap up in the morning, and landscapers would descend on the area on Friday.

  “What was your childhood like?” Annabelle suddenly asked.

  “Mine? It was . . .” Cat gave it some thought. It had been normal. At least, she’d thought it was at the time. “I thought it was good. We were prominent in the news, of course, and I understood that from an early age. We always had to be careful about where we went and what we did, but I have two brothers I love to death. I was a total daddy’s girl, and until this last week, I had thought my mother wasn’t so bad. Driven, yes. I think she might have been the one to sustain our dad’s career during periods of his life—whether he wanted her to or not. But she loved us. In her way. I had a good childhood.”

  She rattled on. As if trying to convince herself that it had been good. When she glanced over, Annabelle said, “I had the best childhood and the best mother in the world.”

  Cat chuckled. “I’m glad.”

  “I’m not saying that to rub it in or anything. But just to let you know that it was really good. And also . . .” Annabelle paused, and Cat stopped what she was doing to wait. She didn’t want to miss what her daughter had to say. She sensed it was important. Finally, Annabelle shrugged and added, “To say that I understand you giving me up. I thought I was pregnant last year.”

  Annabelle paused and Cat’s eyes went wide.

  “God, Mom doesn’t know,” Annabelle said quickly, throwing up a protective hand toward Cat. “Please don’t tell her that.”

  “Okay,” Cat said gently. “I won’t. You’re a big girl, I’m not going to run to your mom.”

  Annabelle blew out a breath. “Good. Because she hated the guy. She would kill me. But yeah, I had a scare.”

  They stopped walking to stand face-to-face. The wind blew around them, ruffling both their hair at the ends. Cat found it almost funny how similar they looked standing there together.

  “I didn’t want my whole life changed because of a baby, you know?” Annabelle added. “I have plans. Things I need to do. To fix. Things I want to accomplish.” She gave an apologetic grimace. “I had no idea what I was going to do.”

  Cat could understand what Annabelle was trying to do for her, and she appreciated it. “My future wasn’t my only deciding factor in giving you up, I’m afraid.” That guilt hadn’t left her—knowing that it hadn’t just been about Annabelle—no matter that it had been the right decision. “My family name played into it way more than it should. In fact, it shouldn’t have at all.”

  “So what?”

  Cat gave her a pointed look. “What do you mean, so what?” Wasn’t it clear?

  “I mean, move on.” Her daughter looked at her. “Forgive yourself, Cat. Don’t feel bad for me. I like you and all, but I wouldn’t have chosen you over my mom. Ever.”

  “Ouch.” The truth hurt. “But okay, that’s good to know. So Patricia really did do good, then?” Not that Cat had doubted it. Annabelle was amazing.

  “She’s the best. She’s older than my friends’ moms, yeah, but I think that gave her something they don’t have. She has a better perspective on the world. Not to mention, more money and the patience to actually focus on me.” Annabelle gave a wide grin. “I realize I’m lucky—though I’d probably deny all of this if you ever tell her I said it.”

  Cat smiled. “It’s our secret. But what would you have done?” she asked. “If you’d been pregnant?”

  Annabelle shook her head as a sadness Cat hadn’t seen with her before crossed over her face. “I have no idea. I’m just thankful I didn’t have to find out.”

  Cat was, too.

  “Are you more careful now?” Cat asked. “You’re about to go away to college. The boys are different there, you know? They’re older. More—”

  “Stop,” Annabelle groaned. “Don’t even start on me. I don’t need another mom. Not one like that.” She reached over and gave Cat a warm hug. “You can be my mom, too,” she whispered. “I’d like that. Only, we’ll just be kind of friends instead of mom and daughter.”

  “That would be nice,” Cat said. She had to fight to get the words around the lump in her throat. She’d hugged her daughter a couple of times over the week, but this one had been different. It had healed something inside her. “I’m glad you stuck around this week.” She squeezed Annabelle’s hand but did not let herself get teary. Annabelle would be embarrassed. “Think you might visit me again?”

  “Do you mean here or in Atlanta?”

  “Well, I live in Atlanta.” Though she would move if she had a reason. Not that that reason was speaking to her anymore.

  “You could move here,” Annabelle suggested. “It’s a great place.”

  It was a great place. She’d fallen in love with it as well as Brody. “I don’t know. It might be too hard for me.”

  “I get it. That’s part of why I don’t want to go to Brown. The guy from last year, we ended rough. We didn’t make it through the pregnancy scare like I thought we would.” Annabelle made a face. “He’s going to Brown.”

  “Don’t let a guy dictate your choices, Annabelle. If Brown is where you want to go, then go. He’s just a guy.”

  “The thing is, I had kind of chosen it to begin with because of him.”

  “I see. Then the slate is clean.” She gave her daughter a wink as they went back to picking up scraps. “Only, you’d better choose soon. Your time is running out.”

  “Tell me about it. Mom’s going to lose her shit if I screw up an
d miss out on going to school in the fall.”

  “I can understand that. I would probably lose my shit if Becca or Tyler did the same.”

  “But there are other things I could do.” Annabelle cut her a sideways glance. “I hear the peace corps is always looking.”

  Cat smiled and reached over to hug Annabelle once again. She would be proud if her daughter did anything Cat had done. It was nice to hear that the thought even entered her mind. “I may not have raised you, kid, but I sure made a good one.”

  Annabelle laughed out loud. “That you did, Cat. I’m pretty darned good. And yes, I’ll come visit you. Wherever you are. Maybe you can come visit me, too.”

  “You can count on it.”

  CHAPTER THIRTY

  KNOCK, KNOCK.”

  Brody looked up from the papers he was grading to find his daughter standing at his office door. It brightened his day.

  “Hey, AnnieB.” He’d given her a nickname. It suited her.

  “Hey, Dr. H.” She’d followed suit. It had been a good week for them. They had so much in common. Their interests, their insights.

  He shook his head with pride as she moved into the room and shoved books to the floor before plopping down in the chair in front of him. She’d made time for him every day this week, as if he meant something. Which was good, because if she hadn’t, he would have driven over to Cat’s place and sought her out himself. Because she did mean something to him. He’d met her three days ago, and already he was dreading her departure on Sunday. He had no idea when he might see her again.

  “What are you doing here?” he asked. They’d made plans to meet for an early dinner before he would take her to the play. She’d been trying to wait until Saturday to see it in the new amphitheater, but he’d worn her down. He wanted to introduce her to the cast and to Clyde. He wanted to show her off.

  “Just hanging out. You heard back from that producer yet?” she asked conversationally.