by Cindi Madsen
“She’s a little shy when you first meet her,” Emma said to Cam, then she reached down, scooped her daughter into her arms, and hugged her tightly. “Zoey, this is my friend Cam. Cam, Zoey.”
…
In the field, Cam never froze. He reacted, and he reacted quickly, not letting himself second-guess anything, because it could mean the difference between life and death. But here he was now, frozen in place by a two-year-old.
The cutest little two-year-old girl he’d ever seen. She had Emma’s curly hair, although it was blond, not brown, and she had Emma’s nose. But the eyes…they were a Brantley family trait. Her face shape was his, as was the slight dimple in the chin. There was something that hinted at Mom, too, although he couldn’t pick out what. Part of him had still doubted she was his until this moment, but all of that faded as he looked at her.
“Hi,” he said, not knowing what else to say. She curled into Emma, her pink ballet skirt crumpling. But then she peeked at him and gave him a small smile, and his heart cracked right there. He had no idea what to do about the fact that he had a daughter.
But something inside him had told him he’d regret it if he didn’t at least see her. If only he knew how to act now that he had.
Emma bounced her higher on her hip. “Zoey, I’m going to order some pizza and—”
“Cheese!” she said, adamantly shaking her head.
“I was going to say, and I’m going to finish making you mac and cheese.” Emma tapped Zoey’s nose and then glanced at him. “It’s all she eats right now. That and L-U-C-K-Y C-H-A-R-M-S. I do make her eat veggies and fruit once in a while, though, I swear.”
She seemed worried he’d judge her. He had no idea how to take care of a kid, and Zoey looked healthy to him. Healthy and happy.
Emma asked about pizza toppings, he assured her whatever was fine, and then she gestured to the couch. “Make yourself at home.”
Cam sat on the small couch and glanced around the room. Pink toys sat in every corner, and there was a pile of large Legos in the middle of the room. Besides the toys, the house was clean, although dated and a little run-down. Nothing major, just a few cracks in the overly textured walls, peeling eighties linoleum in the entryway, and brown swirl carpet that’d seen its fair share of use.
He’d grown up about like this—if you added a thin layer of dirt, Dad’s stacks of magazines circling the room, and an empty six-pack of beer on the table—so he knew that you could live in these conditions, but he wasn’t sure Emma was as fine as she claimed, especially financially.
His defenses prickled at the timing of it all, her telling him only after he and Heath had acquired the property that’d taken their savings, as well as a portion of Quinn’s. He certainly didn’t have spare cash sitting around, but if the lodge did well…
Movement from near the kitchen caught his attention. Zoey peeked out at him and then ducked back around the corner. The minutes ticked by, slow and yet fast, his head still spinning as he tried to grasp the fact that he had a kid, and then the pizza guy showed up.
They ate in the kitchen, mostly in silence, but afterward, Zoey tugged on the leg of his jeans and led him over to the dollhouse in the corner of the living room. She handed him a doll and then began playing. When he just stood there, the doll dangling from his hand, she grabbed that hand, showed him how to play—clearly thinking he didn’t get it—and then sang to herself.
This was so freaking weird. It felt like he’d fallen into a dream, or someone else’s life, and part of him wanted to wake up, even as he felt a strange pull in his gut toward the little girl in front of him.
After a few minutes he found himself making voices for the doll, struggling to interpret what Zoey said, and sitting on the floor with his legs crossed. Occasionally he’d glance at Emma, who smiled encouragingly, even though he was sure he was getting everything wrong. There was a hint of nervousness in every move Emma made, too, which only added to the pressure building inside him.
When Zoey had a meltdown over a dress not going onto the doll the way she wanted, Emma came over and picked her up. “That means it’s bedtime.”
“Uh-uh,” Zoey said, but Emma carried her into the hall, rocking and humming low, and Zoey dropped her head on her shoulder. Cam didn’t know if he should follow or just stand there and wait, and finally he settled on picking up toys, since it was something he felt semiqualified for.
Several minutes later, Emma returned, her arms now empty. She looked at him, he looked back, and he could tell she had as little clue about what to say as he did.
“I…I want to be in her life,” he finally said. He didn’t know how to be a dad, but he couldn’t walk away and pretend he’d never met her now. It didn’t sit right with him, especially after he’d experienced parental abandonment. He’d probably screw up a lot, but he doubted saying that would inspire a lot of confidence in Emma. He figured he should be as truthful as possible, though. “I’m not sure how big of a role I can play, but I won’t leave her to wonder why I don’t want to be in her life.”
He could practically see the wheels in Emma’s mind turning as she processed everything he’d said.
“Okay.” She hugged her arms around herself like she’d done earlier and nodded. “Next time, we’ll tell her you’re her dad.”
“Will she be okay with that?”
A small smile touched Emma’s lips. “I’m sure she will. Little kids are pretty resilient, and they adjust faster than most adults. I’m sure it’ll be easier now than if she were older. She hasn’t quite realized it’s not normal for her to not know her daddy.”
He took a couple of steps toward her. “If I hadn’t come back? Would you have ever told me?”
Emma bit her lip. “Probably not. I heard you that night in the bar. You said you didn’t want kids. That you’d never change your mind—you sounded so sure that I truly figured it was for the best if you simply didn’t know, and with you so far away anyway…”
“I never planned to have any, it’s true. My dad…” He thought about the days after Mom walked out on them, leaving him and Heath to fend for themselves. It didn’t go very well, not when Dad’s drinking only got worse. “Let’s just say I didn’t want to turn into him. I have no idea how to be a dad.”
“I had no idea how to be a mom. Some days I feel like I still don’t know how, actually, and that I’ll never figure it out.” She reached out like she was going to touch his arm again, and he didn’t realize how much he wanted her to until she dropped her hand before contact. “I’m sorry, Cam, I am. I didn’t expect my life to turn out like this. But I wouldn’t change it, not now that I have her.”
The anger he’d felt earlier moved to the background. He was still upset she hadn’t told him, but he couldn’t hold onto it after spending the past few hours with her and Zoey. “Well, now that I’m here and I know, I guess we both have a lot of things to figure out. Like…” He gulped, because the words still seemed so strange, and thinking about all the details that’d need to be ironed out made him realize how much his life was about to change. “Child support and that kind of thing.”
“We’re okay. Like I said, I didn’t tell you so you’d feel obligated.”
Yeah, we’ll see. He did feel obligated, too, but it was more than a sense of duty. It wasn’t something he’d experienced before, so he didn’t know how to describe it. Still, his goals of the lodge and of adjusting to normal life had just become that much more important. “This week we’ll figure out the best plan of attack, and then we’ll put it into action.”
“How much trouble would I be in if I saluted you and said, ‘Yes, sir’?”
He cracked a smile, something he definitely hadn’t expected after she’d dropped the bomb this afternoon. “Feel free to follow all my orders,” he said, and she rolled her eyes.
Then everything that’d happened and all it meant came rushing back in. He could deal with a truce and helping out with Zoey, but he still didn’t completely trust Emma, and he wasn’t sure he
ever could.
“See you tomorrow,” he said, heading toward the door.
“See you tomorrow,” she echoed, and he told himself not to feel sorry for the sadness that’d crept into her voice.
But the tiniest part of him still did.
Chapter Seven
Wow, he did a great job of leveling the road, Emma thought as she pulled up to the cabin nearest the lodge. When she’d left work, Cam had been in a tractor, dragging the road from the turnoff to the Mountain Ridge property, and her car had made it over the smoothed-out rocks and dirt, no problem. If she’d gotten stuck again, she’d never live it down, even if the crew were long gone.
Emma reached into the backseat and undid the buckles of Zoey’s car seat. Zoey disliked being strapped down, so the second she was free, she launched herself out of the seat and into Emma’s arms. Emma kissed her cheek, carried her up the porch steps, and knocked on the door.
Cam answered, wearing jeans and a T-shirt that stretched across his chest and showed off his tattooed arms.
Emma’s heart skipped a couple of beats, and she told herself to focus. This night was about him and Zoey getting to know each other better, not for ogling and lusting after all those muscles. Then again, she’d always been a good multitasker. “Hey.”
“Come on in.” Cam stepped aside, and she walked into the living room. She’d expected it to look different from the last time she’d been inside, but he hadn’t added any personal touches. The place was also extremely clean, to the point of looking unlived in. She wondered if he made his bed so tightly you could bounce a quarter off it, if that was something they really made soldiers do anymore.
How do you even climb into a bed made so tightly?
Okay, no thinking about Cam climbing in bed, or how he probably sleeps shirtless.
Zoey wiggled down and went right for the fireplace.
“No, Zoey! Dangerous!” Emma scooped her back up, scanning the place for other safety concerns. “If Zoey’s going to be spending time here, the fire will need a grate. The outlets need to be covered, and if you’ve got any chemicals or cleansers under the kitchen sink, it’ll need to be childproofed, too.”
Cam glanced around the room. “I never thought about any of that.”
“Yeah, it takes some getting used to.”
“I’ll get right on it tomorrow.”
Despite the other night and the blips of polite conversation they’d had at work the past couple of days, awkwardness still crowded the air, and she wondered if she’d ever get used to this new development.
Speaking of, she supposed it was time to break the news to her daughter—it was part of the plan of attack they’d come up with, after all. “Zoey, you know how I’m your mommy?”
She nodded, her curls bouncing with the motion, and tapped Emma’s chest as she repeated, “Mommy.”
“Cam is your daddy.”
“Why?” she asked.
“You want to take that one?” Emma asked Cam, laughing when his eyes went comically wide. “I’m only teasing,” she said, then she turned her attention back to her daughter. “Because everyone has a mommy and a daddy. Sometimes mommies and daddies live separately, but everyone still has one.
“So, I’m your mommy…” Emma took Zoey’s hand, tapped it to her chest, and then guided it to Cam’s chest, tapping it there. “Daddy.”
“Why?”
“And you can call him Daddy.”
“Why?”
“Because that’s who he is.” Emma smiled at Cam, who had an expression between bewilderment and wonder on his face. “Two-year-olds really like asking why.”
“I’m starting to see that,” he said. Then he picked up the nightstand next to the couch, hoisting it like it weighed nothing, and placed it in front of the fireplace, blocking that hazard area.
“So how was that, soldier?” Emma asked as she bumped the hip not supporting Zoey into his, unable to resist teasing him a bit, slight awkwardness notwithstanding. He’d laid out the plan earlier today at lunch: Come over at 1900 hours. Tell Zoey I’m her father together. We’ll see how that goes and then take it from there.
She could tell he was used to giving orders and not having anyone ask questions. Since she was still trying to atone for not telling him the truth before, she’d meekly nodded and said okay. But she refused to go back to the quiet, submissive person she used to be in high school, so from here on out, she’d insist on a two-way type of discussion.
Zoey demanded to be put down before Emma could get a good read on Cam’s reaction to her teasing, but as soon as she straightened, he leaned in and whispered, “Just fine, smart-ass.”
She bit back a laugh, but she wasn’t able to suppress the shiver that traveled down her spine at the feel of his warm breath on her neck.
No surprise, the first thing Zoey decided to investigate was how to undo being cut off from the one place she needed to stay away from—why was it kids were drawn to the most dangerous thing in the room? Emma really hoped the self-preservation instinct kicked in soon, preferably before she had an aneurysm worrying about the many ways her daughter could be injured.
The nightstand in front of the fireplace rocked a little, and Cam steadied it with a hand on top and pulled a Barbie, still in her plastic case, off the mantel. When he handed it to Zoey and said he’d bought it for her, she, of course, asked, “Why?”
“Because I’m your dad, and I wanted you to have something from me.”
“Why?”
Cam laughed, squatted lower, and then helped her tear it out of the package—when the doll didn’t break free of the cardboard after a minute or so of tugging, he swore.
Zoey copied, the way toddlers instinctively do whenever anyone anywhere swears, and Cam glanced up. “I’m so, so sorry. It just slipped out.”
“Don’t make a deal about it or she’ll say it a hundred times,” Emma calmly said, then she pointed at the doll and forced extra enthusiasm into her voice. “Is that Barbie doll wearing a ballerina dress? Just like you?” At least today she’d managed to get Zoey to wear a T-shirt and pants under the tutu instead of pajamas.
“Ball-in-a!” Zoey said, sufficiently distracted, although her frustration at not getting the Barbie into her hot little hands was mounting.
Cam held out his hand for the doll, promising he’d give it right back, and then he pulled out a pocketknife. He sliced the plastic ties and then carefully closed the knife and put it away before handing the doll over, despite Zoey’s bouncing up and down, arms waving wildly in the air.
He needs a bit of training, but he understands the safety basics at least.
Emma lowered herself onto the stuffed chair in the corner, watching on. Here and there Cam would glance up at her and rub his neck, clearly unsure how to proceed, but she held herself back, explaining what Zoey was asking instead of stepping in and taking over. Control wasn’t easy for her to give up, but she knew he needed to get more comfortable with Zoey to really bond with her, and she wanted nothing more than to figure out a way to do this coparenting thing. If that was what he decided he wanted after he saw everything it entailed.
Emma’s phone rang, and she glanced at the display, worry rising when she saw it was the Hope Springs hospital. “I should take this. Are you okay?”
“Yeah,” Cam said, so she stepped outside where she could talk.
“This is Nurse Welch, and there’s no need to worry,” the voice on the phone said, which sent another surge of worry coursing through Emma, because she wouldn’t call without a reason.
“Is my grandma okay?” Nurse Welch had called her the last time Grandma Bev ended up in the hospital, and they occasionally had discussions about Grandma’s health and the treatments she was supposed to be following, much to her dismay.
“She fainted at bingo.”
“Because I actually got a bingo,” Grandma Bev yelled into the phone. “No other reason.”
Emma tightened her hold on the phone. “And because she mixed her pills with Vera Mae’s
famous punch?”
“That might’ve had something to do with it,” Nurse Welch said with a laugh. “She did hit her head pretty hard, though, and she lost consciousness for a minute, so—”
“That’s just what Judith said, because she wanted to break my winning streak. I’m fine. I told you not to call Emma and worry her over nothing.”
“We’re going to err on the side of caution and do a CT scan. From the sounds of it, we might have to hold her down…” Nurse Welch was mostly false threats, but she followed through with a look that made most people too scared to push their luck—even headstrong Grandma Bev, which was why Emma requested she be the one to treat her. “I just thought you should know.”
The words “just thought you should know” struck her as slightly ironic. She’d used them on Cam, and she saw now how ineffective they were at soothing frayed nerves.
“Can I talk to my grandmother for a minute?” Emma wanted to lecture her, but that’d never done any good, and more than anything she wanted to hear for herself that she was okay, so she figured she’d see how she sounded and then take it from there.
Apparently phrases were striking her right and left today, because now she was thinking about Cam again, and the way he’d told her, “We’ll take it from there,” all demanding, in a way that should bug her but seemed more like second nature to him.
She glanced toward the window of his cabin, thinking that maybe it was more that the guy was simply hard not to think about.
…
Zoey started dancing around, a dance that looked suspiciously like—
“Go potty,” Zoey said.
Cam looked to the front door, praying for Emma to come through it, but he could see her pacing outside the window, still on the phone. He didn’t want her to think he couldn’t handle a few minutes alone, even though he wasn’t sure he could.
I have no idea what I’m doing. One thing was sure, he was definitely in over his head.
“Um, bathroom’s right there.” He pointed at the door.
She grabbed his hand and started toward it. Once they stepped inside the bathroom, she looked up at him like he’d know what to do.
