Unexpected Father

by Carolyne Aarsen

  “I do. I love you and I want to be with you and I want you to be happy and I want me to be happy and this way...this way everybody is happy. You have all I have ever wanted. You have a loyal, faithful heart. A heart for family.”

  Denny laughed but Evangeline could see he still harbored some doubts and concerns. “I come with a lot more family than you might be comfortable with.”

  “I’m willing to risk it.” She stopped herself there. She had said enough. It was up to Denny now.

  Then the door to the bookstore opened again and Evangeline felt a beat of exasperation. Didn’t people know she was planning her future here?

  But as the door shut behind the newest customer, Evangeline’s heart thudded in her chest.

  Her father stood just inside the door, looking at Denny and Evangeline with narrowed eyes, as if trying to adjust to this reality.

  “So. This is the guy you’re willing to give your dream up for?”

  Evangeline’s heart slowed, then she nodded. “This bookstore isn’t as important to me as Denny is.”

  “He must be special.”

  Evangeline looked back at Denny but his eyes were on her father. Holding her hand, he turned to face him. “Before I say anything more to Evangeline, I want you to know that I want to ask her to marry me.”

  Evangeline felt her breath leave her chest as Denny shot her a sidelong glance.

  “If you’ll have me, that is.”

  She clung to his hand with both of hers, her chest unable to hold in the happiness that made her heart want to burst. “Of course.”

  “Are you asking my permission?” Andy said, walking toward them, still frowning.

  “I guess I’m letting you know what my intentions are,” Denny said.

  Andy looked at Denny then back at Evangeline. “So, poppet, is he the one? Is he the hero you’ve always been waiting for?”

  “And more,” Evangeline said, unable to say more than that.

  Andy released a heavy sigh then turned to Denny. “You know that she’s precious to me.”

  “And she’s precious to me,” Denny said, turning his attention back to Evangeline, his eyes shining with a light that stirred her to the depths of her soul. “And I hope to take care of her the best way that I can.”

  “Okay. If that’s the way it is.” Andy walked toward them and laid his hand on each of their shoulders. “Then you have my blessing.” He squeezed Evangeline’s shoulder. “I haven’t always been a good father to you,” he said quietly. “But I hope I can be the father I should be right now. I want you both to know I’m not selling the ranch or the bookstore.”

  His words tugged Evangeline’s attention away from Denny.

  “What do you mean?”

  Andy gave her a melancholy smile. “I’m sorry, poppet. For all that I put you through. But I see that you really care for this guy. I can’t imagine you giving up something so important to you if he wasn’t the one.” He reached over and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “I want you to be happy and if this is what it takes, then I’m willing to give up a few plots and plans to see that happen.”

  Evangeline returned his hug. “Thanks, Daddy” was all she could say.

  Andy gave her a quick nod, then took a step back. “So, I guess I’ll leave you two alone. I’m sure you have lots to talk about.”

  Denny smiled down at Evangeline, slipping his arm around her shoulders. “We certainly do.”

  Andy gave them both a smile, then turned and walked out of the store.

  Evangeline waited until the door fell shut behind him and turned back to Denny. “I can’t believe this is happening.”

  “Me, either. But I want you to know that I will spend my lifetime loving you and taking care of you.”

  “I know you will.”

  This netted her another quick kiss.

  “So, anything else you need to do here?” Denny said. “I’d like to go home.”

  Home. The word filled her soul, soothing away years of sorrow and pain.

  “That sounds like a good plan,” she said. And on their way out of the store, Evangeline picked out a book for Ella. Tucking it under her arm, she slipped her hand in Denny’s and together they walked out of the store and toward the next part of their story.

  * * * * *

  Keep reading for an excerpt from THE FOREST RANGER’S RETURN by Leigh Bale.

  Dear Reader,

  I love bookstores. I love spending time in them and the expectations they create every time I step in one. The sense that all these books so neat and clean and uncracked hold an adventure waiting for me. I used to want to own a bookstore just so I could read brand-new books instead of the well-read ones I got from our local library. My own house is a reflection of that wish. Bookshelves line the walls of two rooms and part of our living room. I love buying books and with this story of Evangeline and her own bookstore I was able to live out part of my fantasy. But the most important book, the most read book in our home is our Bible. From its pages we find our strength, our hope for our present and our future. I hope you too can find time to read that precious book and I hope you enjoyed this time with Evangeline and her bookstore.

  Blessings,

  P.S. I love to hear from my readers. You can write to me at caarsen@xplornet.com or check out my website at www.carolyneaarsen.com. Be sure to sign up for my newsletter and be able to keep up with what is happening.

  Questions for Discussion

  Evangeline spent a lot of time waiting for her father. Was she realistic in her expectations of him? Why do you think he kept disappointing her?

  Denny said that his life was messy. Why do you think he would say that?

  Denny felt like he made some bad choices in his life. What were some of those choices and what were the repercussions for him and his family?

  Not too many people get babies dropped into their life. How do you think you would react if this happened to you?

  Evangeline had good friends to help her through the disappointments in her life. What role do your friends play in your life?

  Evangeline is also part of a book club. Do you belong to one? If so, what kind of books do you read? If not, what would you like to read?

  Tyler was part of Evangeline’s past and maybe not the best part. Why do you think she might have been attracted to him?

  Denny had his life all planned out—at least until Ella was dropped on his doorstep. I’m sure there have been many times in your life that plans have had to change because of circumstances beyond your control. How did you cope? How did it affect your relationship with God?

  Why did Evangeline feel as if she had no input in Denny’s decision when we know he meant a lot to her? What in her past might have made her feel that way? How did she resolve this?

  Evangeline had a complicated relationship with her father. What do you think she needed to learn about him and about herself and about her relationship with God to truly accept who she was?

  We hope you enjoyed this Harlequin Love Inspired story.

  You believe hearts can heal. Love Inspired stories show that faith, forgiveness and hope have the power to lift spirits and change lives—always.

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  Chapter One

  Dallin Savatch breathed deep of the cool morning air. Stepping off the wraparound porch at Sunrise Ranch, he glanced at the damp dirt road surrounded by fields of newly sp
routing alfalfa. Dark shadows clung to the jagged peaks of the McClellan Mountains, a hint of sunlight brightening the eastern sky. All was quiet; no one else was up yet. A whispering breeze carried the tangy scent of sage, horses and rain. Though the May weather had been unseasonably warm, a spring storm had struck in the middle of the night, awakening Dal with a clap of thunder. His left leg ached and he wasn’t able to get back to sleep.

  Phantom pain, his doctor called it.

  That didn’t prevent him from taking his morning run. Even at age thirty-six, nothing kept him from exercising his legs. He feared the wheelchair and losing his independence too much. Feared becoming less of a man than he already was.

  He walked across the graveled driveway, then leaned against the hitching rail next to the barn. Wrapping his fingers around the coarse wood, he stretched his body for several minutes. The exercise warmed up his stiff muscles and relaxed the tight tendons.

  Magpie, a gentle gray mare who didn’t mind little kids tugging on her mane, stood inside the corral. She lifted her head over the rail fence and snuffled at him.

  “Sorry, girl. No sugar cubes this early in the morning.” Dal rubbed her between the ears. Then he turned and jogged toward the main road, picking up speed as he headed toward town, five miles away. He settled into an easy rhythm, his body moving well. Arms pumping. Blood pounding against his temples. Inhaling oxygen into his lungs.

  He got his second wind just as he passed the turnoff to Secret Valley. His first-mile marker, where the graveled road turned into asphalt. His breathing came in even exhales. He was moving strong. Feeling invincible. But he knew from experience that was an illusion. Life was fragile, the human body easily broken.

  He reached the main road, the sole of his running shoe pounding against the pavement. Another two miles and he’d turn back toward home. A rivulet of sweat tickled between his shoulder blades. He liked this quiet time when he jogged six miles before most people even started their day. He liked being alone to think about the work he had ahead of him back at the ranch. Horses to feed, stalls to muck out, bridles to repair, wild mustangs to train. Running not only cleared his head but also kept him in excellent condition. Something he valued more than anything else, except his relationship with God.

  His gaze skimmed the fertile fields. A thin creek wound its lazy path through the valley and widened as it ran parallel to the road. Not once had he regretted his decision to move to Stokely, Nevada, the small ranching town where Cade Baldwin, his best friend, had settled and started a family of his own. Though Dal frequently felt like an intruder, the Baldwins were the closest thing to a family he would ever have, and he loved them dearly.

  He focused on the terrain in front of him. Through the thick cluster of cattails, he caught a glimpse of Black Angus cattle nestled among the green pasture, chewing their cud. Soon they’d be up foraging for grass.

  And then he spied a woman. Running toward him through the field on the opposite side of the stream. Through the tall willows, he could just make out the top half of her white jogging shirt and blue shorts. She pumped her bare arms hard as she ran. Sunlight gleamed against her long chestnut ponytail. Even from this distance, Dal caught the unwavering glint in her eyes. The lock-jawed determination to push herself hard.

  Obviously a morning runner like him.

  She glanced his way and waved. He lifted his hand in a halfhearted acknowledgment. Ever since he’d returned from the war in Afghanistan, he’d avoided women. His fiancée had broken off their engagement, and he couldn’t really blame her. He no longer had much to offer a woman.

  “Oww!” The stranger crumpled to the ground, disappearing from view.

  Dal’s mouth dropped open in surprise. She’d gone down! Maybe needed his help.

  Leaving the road, he stepped down the graveled incline. He found a narrow spot in the creek where he could cross without wading through the muddy water. Gripping branches of willows, he pulled himself up the embankment. As he trotted toward the spot where he’d seen her fall, he called out, “You okay, ma’am?”

  A thin wail came from the tall meadow grass. He found her lying on her side as she clutched her right ankle tight against her chest. She clenched her eyes closed and bit her bottom lip, fighting off a spasm of pain.

  “Hey, you all right?” He stooped over her, giving her time to catch her breath. Hoping it wasn’t serious.

  She jerked her head around and gasped in surprise. “You... You’re...”

  She didn’t finish her sentence, her gaze lowering to his legs. She sucked in a harsh breath, no doubt caught off guard by his prosthesis and the absence of his left leg. He got this a lot, though he never got used to it. It was an automatic response for people to stare at his legs, but he hated it with every fiber of his being.

  Correction. One leg. He was an amputee above his left knee. This morning, he wore his black J-shaped running prosthesis made out of flexible carbon fibers. He wore a regular C-Leg prosthesis for walking, but he loved and wore the J-Leg whenever he could. To the point that his handicap was no longer a handicap. Not if you considered the two gold medals he’d won in the Paralympics years earlier.

  He braced himself as her gaze surfed past his running shorts to his good leg, a long, muscular limb dusted by a smattering of dark hair. He ignored her wince of sympathy.

  “I... Yes, I’m fine. The pain is subsiding,” she said.

  As she pushed herself into a sitting position, he studied her face. Something familiar about her tugged at his memory. The tilt of her head. The shape of her chin and the warm, golden color of her eyes.

  And then recognition struck him like a jolt of electricity. In spite of the two decades that had passed, he knew her.

  Julie Granger.

  A man just didn’t forget the first girl he ever kissed.

  She made a pretense of brushing dirt off her arms and knees. Staring at the ground. Staring at the trees. Staring anywhere but at him.

  Didn’t she recognize him, too? Maybe she was so distracted by his legs that she hadn’t taken a good enough look at his face.

  After all these years, he should be used to this by now. But he wasn’t. Though he felt grateful to be able to walk and run again, the war had taken almost everything from him.

  His leg. His fiancée. And almost his self-respect.

  She peeled back the cuff of her white sock and rubbed her ankle. The movement commanded his gaze. Nice, trim ankles and shapely calves. He was still a man after all, and could appreciate a pair of pretty legs.

  “May I?” He reached out a hand and she nodded.

  He pressed his fingers gently against her bones, testing the structure for damage. Bloody abrasions scuffed her smooth skin, but he didn’t have access to a first-aid kit right then. A battery of questions bludgeoned his mind. Where had she been all these years? How had life treated her? Was she married with a passel of kids? And why had she abandoned him so long ago?

  “Nothing broken. You’ve probably just got a nasty sprain,” he said.

  Bracing her hands behind her, she leaned back and looked at him with a mix of dread and amazement. But not a smidgeon of recognition.

  His heart rate ratcheted up several notches, and he felt suddenly protective of her. Just like the night her parents were killed. Only now he wasn’t a young, powerless kid who couldn’t stop Social Services from taking her away.

  She shook her head with disgust. “This was so stupid of me. I took my eyes off my path and stepped in that hole over there.”

  She pointed at a rather deep gopher hole camouflaged by clumps of bleached grass.

  “It’s probably not good to run in the fields. They’re very bumpy and hard on the legs,” he said.

  He wanted to tell her who he was, but something held him back. Something he didn’t understand. Of all the people in the world, he hated for Julie to see him like t
his. One legged. No longer whole. But she’d turned her back on him long ago, and his situation would probably be of little importance to her now.

  “How’d you lose your leg?” she asked.

  He blinked, taken aback by her blunt question. But Julie had always been like that. Never mean or cruel. She’d just spoken her mind. At least until she’d disappeared from his life.

  As if realizing her mistake, her face flushed. “I’m sorry. That was rude. It’s none of my business.”

  “No, it’s okay. Most people pretend they don’t notice my missing leg. I lost it in Afghanistan.” But her candor still surprised him. A lot. And very few people surprised him these days.

  “You’re in the military?” She sat forward again, looking interested.

  “Not anymore. I’m a marine.” He tightened his mouth, not wanting to disclose too much about himself. To anyone. Especially a girl he’d loved when he was fifteen years old and too young to know anything about the world.

  “Ah, well, thank you for your service to our country. And I’m so sorry for your loss.”

  He caught the tone of sincerity in her soft voice. No pity, just gratitude.

  She braced herself to stand, and he reached out an arm. “Here, let me help you.”

  She eyed him, looking skeptical. Then, without a word, she accepted his offer, sliding her fingers against his.

  Trusting him.

  The warmth of her soft skin zinged through his arm. He tightened his grip and pulled her up, then let her go and stepped back.

  “You think you can walk? Or should I call someone for you? A husband, maybe...?”

  “No, I’ve never been married,” she said.

  Alone, just like him.

  Surely he imagined the subtle throb of regret in her voice. And yet, a single man of his age was probably more sensitive to other people in the same predicament. But he was still amazed that she didn’t seem to remember him.