If You Don't Know By Now

by Teresa Southwick

  Hannah nodded. “That’s very good.”

  She checked Faith from head to toe, looking into her ears then noting the obvious scrapes on her legs. Finally, she looked at Maggie. “I don’t think there’s any serious damage. But that’s an awfully big knot she’s got there. I’d like to do a CAT scan, just to be on the safe side. We can do it here in the clinic.”

  Maggie nodded. “Whatever you think best, Doctor.”

  “Will it hurt?” Faith wanted to know.

  “Nope. I promise you falling out of that tree hurt more than this will.”

  “Okay,” the child agreed.

  “I’ll have the tech take her back.”

  “Can I go with her?” Maggie asked.

  “Sure. After we get the results, I’ll be back in to talk to you.”

  “Thanks.”

  A few minutes after she left there was a knock on the door. A young woman opened it. “I’m Leigh Denton. This must be Faith.”

  “Yeah,” the child said.

  “I’m going to take you for a ride in this chair,” she said, pushing in a wheel chair.

  “I can walk,” Faith answered.

  “Sorry. It’s the rules.” Leigh shrugged.

  Jack moved forward. “Let me give you a hand.”

  He lifted her from the exam table and set her in the chair. “Lead the way. And don’t pop any wheelies.”

  Faith giggled as the technician wheeled her out the door and down a long hall to the rear of the office. Maggie followed along with Jack. He put his hand at the small of her back to guide her and she was grateful for his support. He could have fetched her, then excused himself. After all, he didn’t know yet that he was Faith’s father. And she’d assured him the accident wasn’t his fault. Still, he’d stayed. Maggie couldn’t help wondering why.

  Leigh opened a door and led them into a waiting area with another hall in front of them. “This is as far as you can go. Make your selves com fort able. And try not to worry.”

  “Mission impossible. But thank you for taking such good care of her,” Maggie said, sincerely meaning every word.

  The next moment the tech had wheeled Faith into a room and closed the door. Maggie was alone with Jack. Unable to sit still, she started to pace.

  “She’s got a pretty hard head,” he offered.

  Maggie stopped in front of him and looked up. “And you know this—how?”

  “She’s your daughter.”

  And yours, she wanted to say. But she didn’t want him to find out like that. She didn’t want to blurt out the information. It was important to set it up, to minimize shock. To deal with him gently.

  “Are you implying that I’m hard headed?” she asked.

  “The fruit doesn’t fall—”

  “Far from the tree,” she finished.

  “Sorry. Bad example.”

  “It’s okay. That expression is so appropriate in this situation.”

  He reached out and pulled her into his arms, holding her against him. It felt so good not to be alone. In the beginning, when Faith was a baby, her mom and dad had been there for her. But it wasn’t the same as having the support of the only other person who could care about this child as she did. This was the first time Jack had shared a parental crisis with her. Would it be easier—or harder if he knew the truth?

  It was so good to have him there. He was so big, so solid. So strong. She would go t hell for being selfish while Faith was under going tests, but she couldn’t help remembering the kiss they’d shared on her couch the night before. If Faith hadn’t interrupted them when she had, Maggie wasn’t sure she could have resisted Jack. She hadn’t been able to turn him away a decade ago and the yearning she still felt for him seemed to have intensified in direct proportion to the number of years since she’d last seen him.

  What would happen when she told him he was Faith’s father?

  She shook her head. One crisis at a time. When Faith got the all-clear, she would worry about the kinder, gentler way she was going to break the news.

  The door opened and Leigh wheeled Faith into the waiting room. “We’re finished. You guys can wait in the exam room. Follow me. This place is like a maze. When I first started working here, I felt like I had to drop a trail of crumbs to find my way out.”

  Maggie laughed. “Yeah. This is the first time we’ve been back here.”

  “That’s a good thing.”

  A few minutes after they’d settled in the exam room, Hannah walked in and Addie followed her inside. “Every thing looks fine. The nurse is going to clean up the scrapes on Faith’s knees while I talk to the two of you in my office.”

  Maggie’s stomach clenched, but she didn’t dare start this conversation in front of her daughter. If it was bad news, she would figure out a way to break it to the child.

  Jack took her hand and gave it a reassuring squeeze as they followed Hannah into an office. The top of the desk was obscured with papers and charts. A plush leather chair waited behind it. Hannah motioned to the two wing chairs in front of the desk. “Have a seat.”

  “I’m too nervous. Tell me, doctor. What is it?”

  “Everything really is fine. I didn’t mean to alarm you. Some times the kids get upset with scary medical stuff.” She put the films up on the viewing board behind the desk then flipped on the light. “I did a training rotation in emergency medicine. These are textbook normal. No indication of traumatic or brain injury. She’s good to go.”

  “Thank goodness,” Maggie said, pressing a hand to her chest in relief.

  “Yeah, thanks, Doc.”

  “You’re welcome.” Hannah looked at Jack. “It’s amazing,” she said, shaking her head.

  “What?”

  “Faith looks just like you.”

  Maggie’s heart dropped. Her head snapped to the side to gauge Jack’s reaction. She opened her mouth to say something, but no words could make it past the lump in her throat.

  Unaware of what she was doing, Hannah continued. “She’s inherited your blue eyes, your black hair—although she’s got her mother’s curls. I under stand you’re career military.”

  “That’s right.”

  “That would explain why Faith never shed a tear. Your daughter is quite a brave little soldier, too.”

  “My daughter?”

  Maggie felt as if a boulder the size of Texas had just dropped on her chest. She looked at the astonishment in Jack’s expression and knew he was about to deny the doctor’s statement. But then he looked at her and his face turned to granite.

  “My daughter,” he said.

  Chapter 7

  Jack maintained surveillance through his front window until he saw Faith get in the car with her friend and the girl’s mother pulled away from the curb. Earlier that day in the doctor’s office, Maggie had pleaded with him to wait before asking questions. She didn’t want to have that conversation in front of Faith. He agreed it would probably be for the best to discuss the situation when she wasn’t around.

  Damn right, he had questions. As angry as he was, he didn’t think he could censor himself for a kid’s ears. Maggie had said she would arrange something so that Faith would be gone. They could discuss everything in private. He waited until the car turned the corner.

  Good to go, he thought.

  He crossed his driveway and the SUV parked there, then went to Maggie’s house and raised his hand to knock. Before his knuckles connected with wood, the door opened.

  “Hi, Jack.”

  “Maggie.”

  “Come in,” she said, pulling the door wide when she stepped back.

  As he passed her, he caught a whiff of some sweet, flowery fragrance. It seemed innocent somehow. But that was impossible. After all, this was Maggie Benson. She was the furthest thing from innocent and honest. She’d lied to him for ten years.

  But as he studied her now, he damned the fact that the sight of her still brightened his day. Whenever he looked at her he couldn’t help but think sunshine. She was wearing yellow short
s made out of some clingy T-shirt material and a matching tank top that skimmed her waist band. He all but held his breath waiting for her to move because he knew he would catch a glimpse of the creamy white skin of her abdomen. When it happened, his palms tingled and he curled his hands into fists, battling the urge to touch her. It didn’t help that she wasn’t wearing a bra.

  Focus on something else, Riley, he ordered himself.

  Raising his gaze, he studied the top of her head. Her red hair was pulled into a ponytail at her crown and spilled curls every where. Why that should make him think of summer nights and twisted sheets was a mystery—and damned frustrating. Apparently there was no safe territory where Maggie Benson was concerned.

  If his hands weren’t fisted already, he would have done it then as he fiercely fought the unrelenting desire to touch her. He could tell she’d taken some time with her appearance. As much as he tried to feel otherwise, he would enjoy the hell out of mussing her—

  He swore softly. He was an idiot for not having this conversation over the phone. He was angry as hell at what she’d done to him. But face-to-face, with her all cute and colorful, was making him forget. Damn it, he was a specially trained operative who’d learned to control his emotions. What was it about Maggie and her lie that made him feel so out of control? He’d done somethings that he could never be proud of. But he’d always been under orders. What was he r excuse?

  She had given birth to his child and never told him.

  How could he ever forget that? Even after the way she’d kissed him last night. It seemed like a lifetime ago, but, God help him, he wanted her to do it again.

  “Why don’t we go into the family room?” she suggested.

  “That’s appropriate. Although you never gave us a chance to be a family.”

  She visibly winced, but didn’t say anything. Turning away, she headed for the other room and he followed. He struggled to ignore her trim back and the soft curves of her bottom—and the way he wanted to explore her from her silky hair to her slender ankles. Why couldn’t she have worn jeans? Denim would have better camouflaged her feminine form. It would have been so much easier to resist touching than the smooth thin knit she wore.

  “Would you like a beer? Or something stronger?”

  “Beer would be fine.”

  He wanted the something stronger, but any alcohol was a bad move since it was tops on the list of things to never do if you want to keep a clear head. He had the un com fort able feeling he just wanted to watch her as she walked away from him. She came back into the room and handed him a long-neck.

  “Thanks,” he said, taking it from her. He was careful to not let his fingers touch hers.

  She sat on the sofa, arm’s length from a glass of wine that waited on the coffee table. She looked up at him. “Let’s get one thing straight right now. Faith is your daughter. In case you were wondering.”

  “I wasn’t.”

  On some level he’d known as soon as he’d met the child. He’d rationalized, justified and finally decided that Maggie must have taken up with another guy right after he’d let her go. Although there was a part of him that never quite believed his own explanation. Maybe because he couldn’t under stand how a man like him could be responsible for someone as pure, innocent and un tainted as Faith. And maybe because he couldn’t stand the idea of Maggie with anyone else. How stupid was that?

  Faith was his child. Even now he couldn’t quite take it in. But as soon as Hannah Morgan had pointed out that she had his blue eyes and dark hair with her mother’s curls, he’d known it was the truth.

  Maggie just looked at him now without speaking. He’d nick named her Magpie for a very good reason, but she sure didn’t have much to say at the moment. And she definitely had a lot of explaining to do.

  “Did you tell her yet?”

  She shook her head. “I thought we needed to talk first.”

  “Let’s talk,” he prompted. “Why didn’t you tell me about her ten years ago? Why did you keep it a secret?”

  She reached for her wine glass and her hand was shaking. Instead of taking a sip, she pulled back and laced her fingers together in her lap. “I planned to tell you—from the moment I could no longer deny the fact that I was pregnant.”

  “But?”

  “I felt it was something I should tell you in person. News like that shouldn’t be delivered over the phone or in a letter.”

  “How sensitive of you,” he said. When her eyes darkened, he knew his sarcasm had hit home. “So why didn’t you tell me in person?”

  “I was waiting until you came home on leave after boot camp.”

  “And I never came home,” he finished.

  “On top of that, you dumped me.” There was a tinge of anger in her voice and when she met his gaze, her eyes were full of fire.

  Why did he suddenly feel as if he were on the defensive? “I still had a right to know,” he said.

  “Agreed.”

  “So why didn’t I?”

  “There was that letter I wrote you. Remember? The one you marked Return to Sender.”

  If he’d only known. “There were ways to get in touch with me if you’d really wanted to.”

  “I was a pregnant teenage girl. Put yourself in my shoes.”

  “Tough assignment.”

  “Try. You’d just brushed me off with a Dear Jane letter. Then you refused to read what I had to say. I stopped trying. I was only seventeen.”

  “Old enough to know what you were doing.” He couldn’t help another sarcastic jab even though he had a feeling he was digging himself a foxhole he couldn’t climb out of.

  She pulled her shoulders back and straightened her spine. Pride shone brightly in her eyes. “The worst thing I could imagine was forcing myself and a baby on you, pushing you into something you clearly didn’t want. Because I was underage, my parents were threatening legal charges. I didn’t want to get you in trouble.”

  She’d been protecting him? His grand mother was the last person he could remember who’d done that. Soldiers learned to look out for one another, but it was a job. This was personal. He didn’t want, need or deserve it.

  Jack cranked up his defensive instincts again. He felt the situation slipping away from him and he couldn’t let that happen. If he didn’t have self-righteous anger, he didn’t think there would be anywhere else to take cover. “You never gave me a chance to decide what I wanted.”

  “I sent you a letter. It’s not my fault you dropped off the face of the earth.”

  A direct hit. When he was involved in a mission, it was darn near impossible to get a message to him. That’s one of the reasons he hadn’t been able to attend his grandmother’s funeral. And missing that had been the straw that broke the camel’s back. For the umpteenth time he questioned all he’d had to give up to do what he did. For a while now he’d been thinking burnout. He’d ignored the signs. Facing it would mean he’d have to figure out who he was.

  Feelings of self-doubt put him on the offensive. “Why should I believe you wrote to let me know about Faith?”

  Twin spots of color flared on her cheeks. Her eyes, usually moss-colored, darkened to hunter green. When she stood, he wondered if he’d just pushed the button that would send her into hot-tempered-redhead mode.

  “First of all, you were there when she was conceived. But you kept going without looking back. I had to do something.”

  “I’m not psychic. A guy expects a heads-up for something like that.”

  “I’ll be right back,” she snapped.

  While she was gone, he looked around the room. On one wall was a frame of collaged photos. He walked over to see them better. There were pictures of Faith from infancy to the present. Some with Maggie and an older couple he assumed were her folks. None of him. He felt a pressure in the center of his chest, near his heart. Anger surged through him again.

  And regret for all he’d missed.

  When Maggie returned she had an envelope in her hand. She held it out to him and
when he took it, she backed away, eyes flashing her own anger. He couldn’t help thinking she was beautiful when she was angry.

  Then he looked down at the yellowed letter with his boot camp address, instantly recognizing her writing. She’d written him every day and her distinctive scrawl reminded him that she’d been a lonely soldier’s link to the world. In the upper left-hand corner was the address where she’d lived with her parents. He’d never been to the house because her folks had decided he was too wild, a bad influence on her. The month and year were clearly marked. Written in his hand across the front was exactly what she’d told him: the directive to Return to Sender.

  “Read it,” she ordered.

  He briefly met her gaze, then turned the still-sealed envelope over. He ripped it open and pulled out a sheet of paper. As he scanned the words, he was very aware of the scared seventeen-year-old she’d been. She wrote that she under stood he didn’t want to be tied down. But she thought he should know that he was going to be a father and she would always love him. The last words were that she didn’t expect anything from him.

  And that’s exactly what she’d gotten.

  He folded the single page, then looked at her. “Maggie, I—”

  “You have to under stand, Jack. I was practically a baby—having a baby. I did my best. Then I realized I couldn’t get in touch with you unless I made a big stink. I didn’t want to do that. I decided to move on.”

  “How?”

  “After my parents got over the shock, they were supportive—even when I refused to name the father. After Faith was born, they doted on her. I got my high school equivalency and took some vocational courses at the local college. With a small business loan and some help from Destiny’s Sunshine fund, I opened This ’N That. It’s been more successful than I ever dreamed. When I realized that my folks were parenting Faith more than I was and we were becoming too dependent on them, I bought this house and moved out.”

  He watched the shadows that crossed her face and read between the lines. She’d had a rough time of it. He couldn’t imagine the strength and courage it had taken to not only get through it but to thrive. Soldiers received medals and commendation for acts of bravery. A Purple Heart for wounds suffered in battle. If the shadows in her eyes were anything to go by, she’d been wounded, too. And he was rubbing salt in it.