If You Don't Know By Now

by Teresa Southwick

  “Not always. That would be too black-and-white. I live in the gray area. I’ve seen things—whole villages wiped out. Women and children massacred. You can’t see things like that, do things that I’ve done, without paying a price.”

  “Besides protect yourself, what have you done that was so bad?”

  Pain jumped into his eyes. That and the muscle contracting in his jaw were the only signs that he’d heard her. “I didn’t protect the men in my charge.”

  “What do you—”

  “It was a training exercise. My job was to make sure nothing went wrong. I planned, gathered information, prepared down to the smallest detail. I left nothing to chance.”

  “Jack, I don’t—”

  Intensity burned in his eyes—bright and hot. “There was an explosion, Maggie. A man died. Two others were hurt.”

  “How long ago?”

  He rubbed the back of his neck. “Just before my grand mother died.”

  “It was an accident. War. A fact of military life.”

  “No.” He shook his head. “There are missions where you expect casualties and you make the decision whether or not the objective is worth acceptable risk. This was a training exercise. No one was supposed to get hurt. But someone died and I didn’t see it coming.”

  “You can’t blame yourself.”

  “Then who? I was in charge. I should have seen something—done something to prevent it.” He laughed bitterly. “Ironic, isn’t it? I was a screwed-up teenage rebel your parents wouldn’t let through the front door. In boot camp, I found something I was good at. I served my country and they would probably shake my hand, maybe even call me a hero. They might think I was good enough for you now.”

  “You are.”

  “No, I—”

  She pointed at him, interrupting the protest. “I’m on a roll and would appreciate it if you wouldn’t interfere with it.”

  “Okay.” She noticed that one corner of his mouth quirked up. That was something, anyway. Maybe she could get through to him.

  “You’re the man who plucked my child from the jaws of death in the stock pen, with complete disregard for your own safety. And that was before you knew she was your daughter, too. You’re a man, Jack, a brave man. You put your pants on one leg at a time and do the very best you can. But you’re not perfect. Some times things happen that are out of your control.”

  He didn’t answer, just let out a long breath and stared at a point over her head.

  She reached up and framed his face with her hands, forcing him to look at her. “You need to focus on the things that are in your control. Like Faith. You took legal steps to adopt that little girl because it’s the right thing to do. You resigned your commission to stick around for her.”

  He met her gaze then. “Did my grand mother know that Faith was my child?”

  “No. Why?”

  “Because you told me you hadn’t said anything to anyone. I’m convinced Gran put that wacky provision in her will to keep me here—because she knew. You didn’t tell her?”

  “No.”

  “What if I don’t believe you?”

  “Come on, Jack. I agree that Dottie probably knew about Faith. But she guessed. She didn’t hear it from me. And she was a hopeless romantic who believed in happy endings. She threw us together and hoped nature would take its course. And she was right if last night was anything to go by.”

  “You expect me to believe you didn’t even tell your parents?”

  Maggie sucked in a breath against the pain of his words. Struggling to keep her voice calm, she said, “I never told anyone. God knows why, but from the moment I found out I was pregnant, it seemed important to protect you. My mom used to ask if Faith looked like him. All I said was yes. I finally told them her father was just a guy who wasn’t coming back. Just a guy who didn’t want me.” She shook her head. “Eventually, they just stopped asking questions. That’s the truth, Jack. If you don’t believe me, ask my folks.”

  “That’s not the point. I just proved I’m a cynical bastard.”

  He was another casualty of that training exercise fiasco, except his wounds were on the inside. He was willing to turn his back on hap pi ness because he didn’t believe he deserved it.

  “You’re throwing up road blocks. There isn’t any couple who doesn’t have doubts at one time or another. But we have to take a chance. It’s called a leap of faith.”

  “Don’t you get it, Maggie? That’s what I’m trying to tell you. I don’t have faith.”

  “Yes, you do. She’s our daughter.”

  “Yeah, I—”

  The squeak of the gate interrupted his response and they both looked there to see the daughter in question come into the backyard. Without noticing them, Faith quietly latched the gate. She turned and stopped short when she saw both of them staring at her.

  “Why aren’t you at baseball practice? Did it end early?” Maggie asked, her mother’s instincts screeching that something wasn’t right.

  The child shrugged. “No. I was hot.”

  Maggie studied her daughter. “Were Stacey and Kasey O’Connor hot, too?”

  “I dunno. Why?”

  “Because I don’t think Sheriff O’Connor made a special trip to camp just to drive you home.”

  “What does that mean, Mom?”

  “It means that we agreed to carpool. I dropped the three of you off and he was supposed to drive you home when it was over.”

  “Oh.”

  “Yeah. Oh.” She walked over to the girl. “How did you get home?”

  “I walked,” she answered, her head lowered.

  “Faith Elizabeth Benson.” She looked at Jack and said, “I mean, Riley. What were you thinking? I made arrangements for a ride so you wouldn’t have to do that. I don’t want you alone on the street. And the sheriff will have a fit when he can’t find you.” She thought for a second and realized there were a number of pressing questions. “How did you know I was here?”

  “I didn’t,” the girl said.

  “Is our front door locked?”

  “No,” she said, shaking her head.

  “Then I don’t under stand. Why did you come here?”

  “I wanted to talk to my dad.”

  Maggie felt a tug in the region of her heart. “I see. You want to take it from here, Jack?”

  Jack looked from mother to daughter and wished for a nice, simple covert mission. He’d never felt more out of his element. “What’s going on, Faith?”

  “It’s all your fault.”

  The hair at his nape prickled. It was the same feeling he got when he sensed danger. The sensation was responsible for saving his life more than once. But the drop-dead look in his daughter’s eyes told him his lucky streak had just run out.

  “What’s my fault?” he asked, his tone a cool, calm credit to all his training.

  “They threw me out of baseball. I’m suspended. From the first game—maybe more.”

  “Why?”

  “I’m the fastest one on the team, Dad. I’m the best batter. No one else can hit like I do. What if we can’t get a run? What if we lose?”

  “I asked you a question, Faith. Why did they suspend you?”

  “He had it coming,” she said angrily.

  He let out a long breath and wondered if the circuitous route to the truth was a hereditary trait she’d inherited from her mother. He glanced at Maggie. Her expression swung from worried to irritated and back again. He took small satisfaction from the fact that she was as confused as he was. And he felt the most insane urge to pull Maggie into his arms and hang on for dear life. Because right now he had a nine-year-old who was up to her cute, shiny black curls in trouble. So far all he knew was that it was his fault and the boy had had it coming.

  “What did you do?” he asked patiently.

  “Gosh darn Logan Peterson.” She started pacing, then walked to the patio and threw herself into one of the padded chairs. “He’s such a dork.”

  “Why?”


  “He’s always bugging me.”

  Jack had wanted to take care of the little creep, but Maggie had stopped him. She’d urged him to let Faith deal with her own problems. What kind of solution had gotten her bounced from camp?

  “Did you say anything to the adults around so they could handle it?” he asked.

  “No.”

  “Care to explain why?”

  Her small hands curled into fists. “I just got so mad.”

  “Faith, you need to give us all the facts,” Maggie urged.

  The child looked at her, anger and misery swirling in her blue eyes. “He was callin’ me names, like he always does. I told him to quit it. My dad wouldn’t like him messing with me.”

  “You’re right about that,” he said grimly. “I think I’ll go talk to the little turkey—”

  “Jack,” Maggie said. “You need to get all the information before you do anything,” she advised again.

  “Okay.” He let out a long breath. “Then what happened, Faith?”

  “He said something else.” The child glanced at Maggie, then at the hands in her lap, fingers twisting together.

  “About you?” he asked.

  “No.”

  “About me?” he questioned, figuring he had it coming.

  “No,” she said again, glancing at Maggie.

  “About your mom?” he asked gently.

  Faith met his gaze then, eyes so like his own flashing fire. “He said my parents aren’t married. He called her a bad name. His mom should wash his mouth out with soap. He’s such a jerk.”

  “What did you do? Unless you tell us, we haven’t got a clue how to help you.”

  “You helped enough,” she said, springing from the chair. “I kicked him the way I saw you doing it. Then I hit him in the nose with the side of my hand. I saw you do that, too. His nose was bloody and he fell down and scraped his elbow. Then they threw me out.” She looked down at her hands. “I can’t go back—not until Mom talks to them.”

  Jack felt as if he’d been kicked in the chest. She’d copied his moves? She’d decked the little creep? He was torn between pride and horror. Horror won when he realized she was right. It was all his fault.

  If she’d never seen him practicing martial arts, she wouldn’t be in this fix now. He should never have come back. More important, he should have left. He would have—except for two things. Faith was his child and he wanted to be there for her.

  And he was in love with Maggie.

  Maggie walked over to the chair where their daughter slouched. “That’s enough, Faith. You shouldn’t talk to your father that way.”

  “Why not? It is his fault.”

  “He’s not the one who kicked Logan Peterson then gave him a bloody nose.”

  Jack could have sworn he heard the smallest trace of amusement in her tone. She just didn’t under stand because she wasn’t responsible for this mess.

  “You guys don’t under stand—”

  “Maybe not. But you need to go home and cool off, young lady,” she said. “I’ll be there in a few minutes. I need to talk to your father and we’ll decide what to do with you.”

  “Yes’m.” Faith stood and started for the gate, then turned. “I guess there’s going to be something worse than dire consequences this time, huh?”

  “We’ll figure it out. Go,” Maggie said, pointing.

  When the child was gone, Maggie looked at him. “What’s wrong? Are you planning to take on the nine-year-old boy who got your daughter in trouble?”

  “That was the furthest thing from my mind.”

  “Not mine,” she said. “I’d like to take the twerp out myself. I figured I’d have to hold you back. You’re the family warrior.”

  “A family can’t have too many warriors,” he answered grimly. “Aren’t you upset?”

  “Of course I am. But it goes with the territory.” She took a deep breath. “Well, I better go deal with Little Miss Drama Queen. Do want to join me?”

  He shook his head. “I trust you to handle it right. You’ve done a great job with her so far. Without me,” he added.

  Maggie touched his arm and looked up at him, a sympathetic expression on her face. “This, too, shall pass, Jack. Trust me. If a child doesn’t hate you at least once a day, you’re not doing your job as a parent.”

  “Most parents don’t teach their kids to take out their friends.”

  “You’re a good father. I’m glad you’ll be there for backup when I have to face the camp director.” When he didn’t respond, she said, “Jack?” There were questions in her eyes.

  “She’s waiting for you. Take it from a guy who knows—waiting is the worst part. Don’t drag it out for her.”

  She started to walk through the gate that Faith had left open. “But—”

  “Go, Maggie.”

  She nodded and disappeared, never hearing him whisper, “Before I can’t let you go.”

  Chapter 12

  Jack dropped his packed duffel bag beside the front door and took one long, last look at his grandmother’s living room. After he said goodbye to Maggie, he was outta here. He turned and reached for the knob, but before he could turn it, there was a knock.

  He flipped the switch for the porch light, then opened the door. “Maggie.”

  “Hey. I saw your lights still on. Is it too late?”

  It had been too late for them from the moment they’d met ten years before. Emptiness as big as the state of Texas opened up inside him. Unable to look away, he drank in the sight of her. To memorize the exact shade of her red hair when the light shone on it. To imprint in his mind the color of her eyes and watch them change when she was happy, sad or angry. To never forget the way it felt to bask in the glow of her sunshine.

  “I was just on my way to see you. Come in.” He stepped aside and when she passed in front of him, the scent of flowers drifted to him. His fingers curled into his palms, to keep from grabbing her and holding her to him. If he did that, he would never be able to let her go.

  A sad expression stole over her face as she glanced around, then laid a hand on the blue-and-green plaid sofa. Throw pillows in a floral pattern of the same colors adorned each arm and the matching love seat. A chair and ottoman in the same material as the pillows sat at an angle, completing the grouping. “Your grand mother asked me to help her pick out this furniture. Not too long before she died.”

  “There are a lot of memories here. Good and bad.”

  “Yeah,” she said with a last glance around before meeting his gaze. “So, why were you coming to see me?”

  “How’s Faith?” he asked.

  “Asleep.”

  “Isn’t it a little early?”

  “She cried herself to sleep.”

  The words squeezed his heart, but re in forced his resolve. “Is she okay by herself?”

  Maggie nodded and her curls danced around her face. She looked like she could use a hug, making it damn near impossible to keep his promise to not touch her.

  “I left her a note so she would know where I was.” She peeked out the window. “Her room is right there.”

  He nodded. “I just want you to know I’m sorry.”

  “That’s what I came over to talk to you about. I called the camp director and we have a nine o’clock appointment with him tomorrow, to get her re in stated.” She re treated several steps, backing into his duffel by the door.

  She glanced down, then at him. The look she shot him was all angry, stubborn redhead.

  “What’s this?”

  “My duffel.”

  “No kidding. Why is it out—” she touched it with the toe of her sandal “—and packed?”

  “I’m leaving. I was on my way over to tell you and Faith goodbye.”

  She folded her arms over her chest. “Silly me. I thought when you made the effort to adopt your daughter and buy a computer business in town—”

  “How did you know about that?”

  “It’s Destiny, remember? No one keeps a secret.”<
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  “You did,” he reminded her.

  “This isn’t about me. I thought you planned to be a permanent part of your daughter’s life.”

  “You don’t under stand.”

  “Explain it to me.”

  “I can’t stand to see her hurting.” He ran his hand through his hair. “She’s my child—my little girl. Dads protect their little girls.”

  “Bingo,” she said. “And it’s a whole lot more efficient to do that if you’re actually living in the same town.”

  He should have known she wouldn’t make this easy on him. Maybe if she knew what he was feeling. “Maggie, the slightest shadow on that little face rips my guts out. This time I’m responsible for putting it there.”

  “Part of a parent’s job is showing a child how to take responsibility for their actions. But you’re carrying that to a new level, Jack.”

  “Violence is a part of me and it’s rubbing off on Faith. She was imitating me,” he growled, pointing a finger at himself. “How can I stay and hurt her over and over?”

  “Painful lessons are part of life. They’re going to happen to her no matter what.”

  “I can’t stick around and contribute to it.”

  “How nice that you can walk in and out of her life at will.” Her voice was so cold. “I didn’t get a choice. I carried her for nine months and when she was born, I was the only one there to take care of her. Thank goodness, my folks were there to support me. I don’t know what I would have done without them. I’m glad I didn’t have to find out. But there was never a question in my mind about hanging in for the long haul.”

  “I’m sorry—”

  “I don’t want apologies.” She looked at the ceiling and caught her full bottom lip between her teeth. Then she met his gaze again and he wanted to take cover. “Do you think this is the first time she’s been in trouble?”

  “She was fine until I showed up.”

  She laughed, but there was no humor in it. “Hardly. Unfortunately underneath those black curls and that angel face, she’s got my red headed temperament and your rebellious flair. Up till now you’ve seen Daddy’s little angel. You just hit your first speed bump, Ace. Silly me. I thought I was going to have backup for the first time ever.”