by Cindi Madsen
He found himself drifting closer with every word, and he couldn’t agree more. This place was beautiful, and the cabin designs made him feel like he was at home, whether looking at them from the inside or standing outside looking in. It felt like the world couldn’t touch him here. “They’d be crazy not to want to come back.”
He noticed a black smudge on the corner of her mouth. “Um…” He gestured to it. “You’ve got some ink.”
Emma reached up, wiping the wrong side, and without thinking, he stepped forward and swiped the pad of his thumb over the black drop. Her mouth dropped open, a shallow breath escaping from it, and her eyes lifted to his. Then she took a quick step back and rubbed the spot until only a hint of the smudge remained.
He’d gotten so caught up in how easy it was to talk and joke with her, he’d forgotten that he’d come in here with a purpose. “I hope that you don’t feel awkward because of what happened all those years ago.”
She shrugged. “It happens, right? I mean, not to me. Well, not usually. Or ever. But obviously, it did. That, uh, once. I’m fine with it, though. Really.”
Yeah, he could tell by the way she wasn’t looking at him anymore. “We have to work together for the next month or so, and I just don’t want you to think you have to avoid me the whole time.”
“I wasn’t—” At his raised eyebrow, she cut herself off. “It’s not why you think.”
Ah. The shadow. “Pete? Is he your boyfriend?”
She shook her head. “He’s more like…my comanager, I guess. Since this is the first project where I’m taking point, and he’s completed a lot of projects like this, we’re working closely together. I’m trying to make a name for myself with this job and hoping that I can use the experience to get a position at an architecture firm. Possibly even in Laramie or Cheyenne, where there’d be more design opportunities and I could make more money.”
His gut sank at that, even though he wasn’t looking for anything steady with Emma. “Guess everyone tries to leave, right?”
“You did.”
No use in denying that, he supposed. “I did. I wasn’t sure I’d ever come back, either. If it wasn’t for Heath, I probably would be off to Afghanistan again.”
“Is that an option still? You deploying?”
Did she sound upset or hopeful? He couldn’t tell. “Just to the mountains. I plan on heading up with nothing but the pack on my back as often as possible, whether with a tour or not.”
“I’m jealous. I used to head up there for days at a time. Just me, my tent, a good book, the occasional fire… My mom was sure I was going to get eaten by a bear.”
The longing in her voice made it clear that she wasn’t one of those women who claimed to love the mountains and camping but wanted to leave the second you set up camp and a bug showed up. He could picture her by the fire, a book in hand, the glow from the flames dancing across her pretty features, and he found himself wanting to be there next to her. They could chat, she could laugh some more…
“We should head into the hills some time.” Was it so bad to want to be friends with Emma, regardless of their past? There was something calming about her presence, and they obviously shared a few hobbies. “I could use help figuring out exactly what trails and sites I want to use for the tours.”
“Oh.” She retreated to herself again, hugging her arms around her middle. “As much fun as that sounds, I’m afraid I’ll have to pass. Those trips are a thing of the past for me. At least for a while.” She bit her lip and glanced down. Then she sighed, one of those sighs that carried so much weight it made it clear that whatever followed would be bad. “I…this is… man, this is hard. I’ve thought of every possible outcome, and I know… But…”
He wanted to put his hands on her shoulders, look into her eyes, and tell her to just spit it out, but he had a feeling that’d only freak her out. Maybe people still viewed him as scary here—they certainly hadn’t been his biggest fans when he and his brother were teens and out causing a bit of trouble, and she’d probably heard a ton of gossip about him and his family. Hell, his dad had knocked up a stripper. Who was apparently getting her real estate license now, so they could be an almost normal family.
“Cam, I have a daughter,” Emma said, all in a rush. “She turned two a few months ago. It’s why I haven’t been to the mountains for more than a picnic or a quick fishing trip in a long, long time.”
Wow. A kid. Being involved with a single mom in any shape or form was another thing entirely, and he understood now why she’d hesitated. “I didn’t realize. So…a two-year-old. You must be busy.”
“You have no idea.”
“Just you? Or are you…married? Divorced?”
The laugh that slipped out wasn’t her usual warm laugh. This one was hollow and almost sarcastic. “No. Never been married. I’m a single mom, and I’m fine with being that, I swear I am. The most important thing in my life is my daughter, and I can take care of myself. I just need you to know that.”
“Okay,” he said, confusion setting in. He understood that having a kid made life more complicated. Maybe his offer had come out more like asking her out on a camping date. And maybe he would have been more okay with that than he’d thought he would be, but of course the news about her having a kid changed everything—he definitely wasn’t ready for complicated of any kind, dating or friends. Casual fun was probably a no go when you were a parent, and honestly the thought had him itching to get away from the entire awkward situation as fast as he could.
“Well, you have a good night. I’ll talk to you tomorrow.” He started toward the door, resolving again to keep his head down and focus on the lodge, the way he was supposed to, no more thinking about the intriguing woman he’d spent an amazing night with so long ago.
“Cam?”
He slowly turned back, a pang going through him at the vulnerability working its way across Emma’s features. He didn’t know why he felt everything so much more strongly around her. The war between wanting to soothe her and wanting to rush away before he started to care more than he should was giving him internal whiplash.
“That night at the Triple S…when we were in your truck…” She couldn’t seem to decide what to do with her hands. One second she was wringing them together, then she moved one to rub the side of her neck. “Do you remember…?” Red crept across her skin, and she tucked that strand of hair behind her ear.
“Of course I remember—we established that yesterday, I thought.” And again a few minutes ago, when he told her he didn’t want things to be awkward between them because of it.
“What I mean is, do you happen to remember if…?” She brought her hand up to her mouth and bit on her thumbnail. “I thought you pulled out a condom, I just don’t remember…if you actually put it on?”
He frowned. “I’m always sa—” Cold crept across his skin, and his internal organs turned to lead. She wasn’t implying that he might… How old did she say her kid was? “Wait. You’re not saying…”
“I am. That’s the night I got pregnant. Cam, Zoey’s yours.”
Chapter Five
Emma’s words hung in the air, taking up all the space from one end of the unfurnished cabin to the other.
She’d run through several scenarios in her head of how this would play out, every one ending in him yelling at her.
Instead, Cam stumbled back a few steps, like her words had shot him in the chest. He reached back for the empty bed frame and sat down on it, his mouth slack.
She didn’t know why she hadn’t factored in shock. After all, when she’d lifted the pregnancy test and looked back and forth from the box to the result window, confirming she was, in fact, pregnant, she’d stumbled back against the wall, slid down it until her butt hit the floor, and stared at that damn stick for about five minutes before she’d believed it. Then the tears had come, fast and furious.
Cam scrubbed a hand over his face, and she thought he’d reached the acceptance stage, but then he jerked up his head. “Are
you sure she’s mine?”
A sharp twinge shot through her chest. Of course he’d doubt it—she wished it didn’t hurt, but it did. “I’m sure. My boyfriend had dumped me a month before that night in the bar, and we hadn’t had sex for a month before that. There was no one after you, either. I did the math a bunch of times—and I’m good at math. The details of that night are a bit fuzzy, but I’ve come to the conclusion that either you never put on the condom, or we’re the one percent who it didn’t work for.”
Cam stared at her, those eyes so much like Zoey’s, but unlike their daughter’s, his were completely unreadable.
The back of her throat tightened, making her have to work for every word. “I don’t want you to feel obligated—I know you didn’t want kids, and I can take care of her. I can keep going on how we’ve been going. I just…well, I thought you should know.”
“You thought I should know?” The words came out edged in ice, and she flinched—she shouldn’t have told him. He obviously didn’t want to know.
“Look, if you don’t want to meet Zoey and be part of her life, that’s your choice. You’re missing out, but again, that’s completely your choice.”
“Choice?” He laughed, and like the laugh she’d given after he’d asked if she’d been married, it wasn’t the happy kind of laughter. “You didn’t give me a choice. I should’ve known—past tense. How could you have not told me when you found out you were pregnant?”
Her heart thundered, and sweat pricked her forehead, the reaction she always had when dealing with any kind of conflict—she hated conflict and usually avoided it at all costs, but she’d gotten herself into this mess, no avoiding it now. “You were several countries away. I didn’t even know how to contact you.”
He stood and advanced on her, and fear spiked. She backed up, but he kept on coming. “You get my information from my dad, or my brother. You… Damn it! You find a way!”
When he raised his arm, she flinched, but he only ran a hand through his hair. His eyebrows drew together, offense pinching his features. “I’m not…I’m not going to hit you.”
Tears gathered in her eyes. “I don’t know—it’s not like I know you. Your brother just moved back, like, six months ago, and I’ve been sick with guilt over not saying anything. But what was I supposed to do? Write you and say, oh, hey, remember me, the girl you slept with because you were drunk and getting ready to deploy and I was there? Well, now I’m having your kid.”
“Yes.”
Emma gritted her teeth, resolved to keep the tears from spilling down her cheeks. “You’re right. I did try to find your email address, but I should’ve tried harder. I…” She almost went into how she’d attempted to talk to his dad, but she didn’t want to insult his family right now, and in the end, it was still an excuse. So she went with the truth. “I was scared. I’m still scared, every day. I’m sorry, because I know I did this all wrong. But I was trying to protect my daughter.”
“Our daughter,” he said, his gaze boring into her. “According to you.”
“Yes. Our daughter.” Despite her best efforts, her tears spilled over and ran warm trails down her cheeks. “I can’t change the past, but now you know. That also scares me, more than anything ever has, because Zoey—she’s my world.”
Cam stepped back again, his head shaking over and over, and she couldn’t take it anymore. As hard as it’d been, she’d told him, and now he’d have to figure out what he wanted to do about it. But she couldn’t stand there in the suffocating, tension-filled room any longer. So she swallowed the lump in her throat and walked out of the cabin.
She meant to calmly walk away, but before she knew it, she was in the truck and peeling out, headed away from Mountain Ridge.
One thing was for sure. No one would call her life boring now.
…
The headache working its way across Cam’s forehead pounded harder, in time to his rapidly hammering heart, beating out rational thought. He’d made it out of the cabin in time to see Emma’s taillights through a cloud of dirt. Anger and shock had formed a toxic combination, and he knew he needed to release some of it before he spat out any harsh words or made a decision he’d regret.
So he’d ducked into the cabin he’d been working on earlier in the day, picked up some drywall and a package of nails, and hammered for all he was worth. The first few he’d gone too hard, driving the nail so deep that he’d left circular hammer imprints.
Still the anger came in waves, so he kept at it.
How stupid was I, thinking she was trustworthy. Thinking that she was different from other women.
She should’ve told me yesterday.
No, she should’ve told me years ago, instead of just springing it on me and claiming she doesn’t expect anything.
He swung and swung, until his shoulder screamed with each movement.
“Cam?” Heath walked in, his arm around Quinn. “We appreciate your enthusiasm about finishing these up as soon as possible, but it’s time for dinner.”
He just shook his head. Once again his temper whispered that he was just like Dad, and now he didn’t have missions and taking out bad guys as an outlet. How could he be a father? Why had he ever thought going back to civilian life would be good for him?
Coming back home to the slow pace of Hope Springs was supposed to be calming. Supposed to help heal the broken part of him.
Then again, he wasn’t supposed to have a kid. A two-year-old daughter. He swung the hammer again, this time missing the stud completely and bashing a hole in the drywall. The broken plaster bits rained down on his forearms, the dust clinging to the hairs there and turning them white.
“Cameron.” Heath put his hand on his shoulder, and when Cam glanced at his brother, worry hung heavy on his features. “What’s going on?”
Cam tossed the hammer aside, the loud thunk slightly satisfying. He sucked in a deep breath and let it out. “Emma. I need to talk to her. Where does she live?”
Quinn walked over, slow and calm, like life hadn’t suddenly stopped making sense. “Look, Cam, Emma’s awesome, and obviously she’s very pretty, too, but her life is super complicated. She’s a single mom, and I’m not sure that you and she would be a good idea.”
It was way too late for good ideas now. “Heath, did I ever tell you that I slept with Emma the night before I deployed?”
Heath’s jaw dropped, which he took to mean no.
“Holy shitballs,” Quinn said. “I so didn’t see that coming.”
Cam kept his eyes on his brother’s. “Have you seen her little girl?”
He nodded. “Yeah, I’ve seen her around town a couple of times. She’s a cute kid. Lots of blond curly hair, always wearing a ballet skirt.”
“Tell me something…” His heart thumped hard in his chest. One beat, then two, then three. “Does she look anything like me?”
Chapter Six
“But what about pizza?” Emma asked Zoey.
Zoey held up the box of mac and cheese. “Cheese.”
“Pizza has cheese, and you love pizza, remember?” She loved to pick off the cheese and leave the tomato sauce and crust, anyway.
Zoey’s eyebrows drew together and she held the box of mac and cheese higher. Nothing made you feel more in control of life than losing an argument with a two-year-old.
With a sigh, Emma gave up and took the box from Zoey’s pudgy fingers. This day had beaten everything out of her, and she didn’t have it in her to debate the merits of pizza versus neon-orange noodles anymore. She figured she’d just have one of those disgusting microwave dinners—the ones she’d bought when she’d decided she needed to eat healthier, and the “lean” on the package and mini section for vegetables had lulled her into a false sense of healthiness. As usual, she’d pick at it and end up eating the other half of the macaroni straight from the pot.
She’d just poured a pot full of water when the doorbell rang. She walked over and looked through the window on the door, and her stomach fell right to her toes. Si
nce Zoey was busy with the dollhouse in the corner of the living room, Emma stepped outside quickly, pulling the door shut behind her.
“Cam. Hey.”
“I want to see her,” he said.
A clashing mixture of relief and fear tumbled through Emma. “It’s my job as her mom to protect her, and more than anything, I want her to feel loved and wanted. I have to be careful about pulling people into her life.”
The muscles around Cam’s jaw tightened, and she put her hand on his arm. “I’m not saying you can’t see her—I want you to. I’m just trying to figure out the best ground rules to keep us all safer.” His gaze moved to her hand, and she dropped it, working to keep her composure. “At least until you spend a bit of time with her and decide what kind of a role you want to play in her life.”
Cam slowly nodded. “I guess that makes sense.”
Emma glanced through the window of the front door. Zoey was still busy with the dollhouse. “We were about to have dinner. If we go out…well, then the entire town will be talking.”
“I’d rather not do this in front of everyone.”
“I agree. I could order a pizza?”
He nodded again. “That’s fine. I just want to see her.”
At least he’d decided that much. Now hope jumped into the mix of emotions—hope that Zoey could have a dad who cared about her and that they could work out some kind of arrangement, even though fear edged every beat of her heart at the thought of it going wrong. “For now, we’ll just introduce you as my friend Cam. Is that okay?”
Cam shrugged, and it was odd to see the massive, all-man dude on her porch looking so unsure of himself. If the situation weren’t so awkward and difficult, it’d be endearing.
Okay, maybe it was endearing anyway. Emma took a deep breath and walked inside, holding the door open for Cam. Zoey glanced up, tossed her doll aside, and ran over. She wrapped her arms around Emma’s legs, clinging to them.
