Needed: One Dad

by Jeanne Allan

  “Hannah and the others disagree with your analysis.”

  “What did you expect them to say? That they’d deliberately set you up with ineligible men?”

  “There’s no reason for them to lie.”

  Sam threw his hands in the air. “My grandmother would lie, cheat or steal, and maybe commit mayhem and murder to get me married. But I am not going to marry you.”

  “Don’t yell at me. If you weren’t always kissing me, we wouldn’t be engaged now.”

  “We are not engaged.” The blue veins bulging in his neck matched neither his eyes nor his shirt.

  “If you want to tell that to your grandmother, be my guest.” She waited until he had one hand on the doorknob. “Don’t be surprised when she hands you your packed suitcase and shows you the front door.”

  He turned slowly. “What the hell does that mean?”

  “Hannah thinks you’ve been playing fast and loose with me. Promising me marriage, seducing me, and bailing out when she caught us. When I told her we weren’t getting married, she threatened to call your mother.”

  “I’m thirty-five years old, Adeline. Even if Grandmother called my mother, what’s my mother going to do? Stop my allowance?”

  “You still get an allowance?”

  “No!” He practically howled. “I do not get an allowance. I was trying to make a point.” Sam stalked from the room.

  Addy picked up a heart-patterned polymer cane. She’d completed six beads before Sam returned. “Did you manage to weasel out of our engagement?”

  “Grandmother’s being a little difficult.”

  Addy studied the six monstrously ugly, misshapen beads on the table before her. “You mean we’re still engaged?”

  Sam switched tactics, saying in an irritatingly reasonable voice, “Even if we did overlook the fact we have nothing in common, our getting married would never work out. Nobody likes to be used, and you’d be using me to keep Emilie.”

  Addy smashed a bead with her fist. Sam Dawson annoyed her as no single individual had in her twenty-eight years of life.

  “Why did you destroy it?” Sam looked over her shoulder. “I like those. They’re the first lovely, refined beads I’ve seen you make. Small, pastel, ladylike.”

  Undoubtedly he’d just described the type of woman he preferred. Not that his prejudices regarding the female sex interested Addy the tiniest little bit. She smashed the other five beads.

  Sam resumed his pacing. “I had a thought.”

  “Don’t panic. It happens to the rest of us all the time.”

  He gave her a brief look of disgust. “I’m willing to accept partial responsibility for our predicament.”

  The phrase “partial responsibility” immediately raised Addy’s ire. “I don’t know why you refer to our engagement as a predicament.” She enjoyed the muscle twitching in his jaw.

  Sam halted by the table, and scowled down at her. “I’m willing to make a deal.”

  “Addy Dawson.” She couldn’t resist baiting him. “It has a nice sound, don’t you think?” She suspected he jammed his hands into his back pockets to keep from strangling her.

  “I’m trying to deal with this in a rational manner,” he said coolly, “but you would drive a thinking man to drink.” When she didn’t respond, he said, “You’ve convinced yourself the only way you can feel secure about retaining custody of Emilie is by getting married. I don’t think your custody is a matter of concern, but there’s no point in discussing an issue you’re emotional about. I’m not going to marry you, but I will help you find a husband.”

  “Excuse me,” Addy said sarcastically, “but I believe we’ve been down this road before. How dumb do you think I am?”

  “Is that a rhetorical question?” He continued. “If you’d bothered to share your concerns with me at the beginning, we could have devised a sensible plan for your future comfort.”

  “You sound like you’re trying to sell me insurance or a cemetery plot.”

  “If you don’t quit interrupting,” he said tightly, “you may need both. I’m trying to help you.”

  “You’re trying to escape a marriage noose. While it’s tempting to marry you to teach you a lesson, as fond of teaching lessons as you are, I’m not into education at the moment. Quit panicking. I’m going to do what you wanted me to do all along. I’m leaving.”

  Sam came to an abrupt halt, staring at her from across the room. “Leaving. You’re running away?”

  “Call it what you like.”

  “I call it stupid.”

  “We can’t all have Ph.D.’s, Dr. Dawson.”

  “Where are you going? Where will you live? How do you expect to support yourself?” The questions came with machine-gun rapidity. “You haven’t the faintest idea, do you? You’re not going anywhere.”

  “How do you plan to stop me? Lock me in my room?”

  “I could. Or I could have you arrested for stealing my grandmother’s pearls. I’m sure Carlson will remember those pearls, and how provocatively they nestled between your breasts the other night.”

  “Hannah loaned me her pearls,” Addy said indignantly.

  “Your word against hers. Before you claim she’ll back you up, let me assure you, she will not.”

  “Liar.”

  “Why do you think I allowed my grandmother to insist we continue with this sham of an engagement?”

  “Because she threatened to throw you out of her house if you refuse to marry me.”

  Sam gave her an exasperated look. “Not me. You.”

  Stunned, Addy slumped against the back of her chair. “Hannah wouldn’t... You’re lying.”

  “She has her good name to think of. How long do you think it will take to get all over town she caught you and me having sex on the bedroom floor? How will it look if she condones our activities? Not to mention what will people think when she doesn’t fire you from the community center, where, she reminded me, people entrust their children to you. And speaking of children, she only has it on your say-so that Emilie is the daughter of your sister. No one from around here has ever met any sister or any other family member of yours. She’s old, she sleeps soundly. Who knows how many men have been climbing the balcony and into your bed at night?”

  “She doesn’t sleep soundly. She can tell you every time Emilie rolls over at night.” Addy hardly knew what she was saying. Her entire brain had gone numb. Shock and disbelief shielded her from the pain she knew she’d suffer later.

  “She’s also a master manipulator, so wipe that stricken look from your face,” Sam said in a harsh voice. “She doesn’t believe a word of it. She used that garbage as a threat to keep me in line. She knows I won’t dare call her bluff.”

  “In line? Bluff?” Addy asked in a daze.

  “Adeline, hello! Have you been paying any attention at all to what’s going on around here? Grandmother brought us together for one reason. Marriage. She’s not throwing in the towel until she marches us down the aisle together.”

  “Since you say Hannah’s bluffing, we can ignore our short-lived engagement and the rest is my problem.”

  “I’m perfectly willing to play chicken with Grandmother when it comes to my life. I’m not willing to gamble with yours and Emilie’s. Subject closed.”

  “It’s not closed. Why would Hannah make such a threat?”

  “I told you. She wants me to marry you.”

  “But why?”

  “Because, damn it, she likes you!”

  “You don’t have to shout.”

  Sam slapped his hands on the table and leaned across the width until his nose practically touched hers. “You’d prefer I paint the words on your chest with pink paint?” he asked through clenched teeth.

  “Snarling at me isn’t going to solve anything. You’re behaving emotionally, not rationally. We need to view the situation calmly and objectively. Apply a little logic.”

  He slammed the sitting room door so hard the entire house shook. Addy gave him fifteen minutes. He retur
ned in five.

  “You’re absolutely correct,” he said evenly. “Indulging in wishful fantasies at this time solves nothing. We need clear thinking and practical solutions. I have a plan.”

  “Wishful fantasies?”

  “You don’t want to know,” he said, adding in a surly voice, “since you star in them.”

  Addy elected not to probe further.

  Tossing her a sardonic look, Sam pulled out a chair and sat across the table. “First of all, we need to declare a truce.”

  “Armed or unarmed?”

  “By all means, armed. I’d hate to outlaw that rapier wit of yours. If only you’d use it to cut out your senseless worries about Emilie, we’d all be happier.”

  Addy thought fast. If she pretended to go along with Sam, he’d think she had changed her mind about running away. She’d play things his way until he left, but as soon as he took flight for Boston, she’d take flight for—for somewhere. “Go ahead,” she said meekly. “I’m listening. A truce. OK.”

  He looked suspiciously at her before saying, “I’m planning to return to Boston next week. Until then, a truce. For a week. Even you ought to be able to keep one for that long.”

  “Obviously you won’t,” Addy retorted.

  “I’m sorry. It won’t happen again.” His eyes narrowed, but he chose not to make an issue of Addy’s muttering. “You’re convinced the answer to your perceived problem is a husband, and a husband does have the virtue of solving my problem.” At her look of inquiry, he said with exaggerated patience, “If you’re marrying someone else, you can’t marry me. The obvious course of action is, I have one week to find you a husband.”

  “Where do you plan to find this poor sucker?”

  “Good question.” Picking up some finished beads, he rolled them in his palm. “Maybe we ought to give the ladies’ four candidates a second perusal in case I failed to factor in all the necessary data. If none of them work out, there must be more than four single men in this area. If we had more time... There’s a couple of men who work for me, a scientist or two I’ve had contact with, hell, I’d even sacrifice my own brothers.”

  “The theory being, better your brothers get stuck with bubonic plague than you?”

  Sam concentrated on laying the beads one by one in Addy’s divided storage tray. “I’m a consultant. I spend more time in planes than I do in my apartment. One day I’m in Philadelphia, the next I’m in Japan. One fellow who works for me is in the middle of being divorced by his wife who decided if she was going to practically be a single parent, she ought to have the dating privileges. Another employee’s fiancée dumped him for a college professor. Said she wanted a husband who showed up for dinner every night.”

  “So for the good of womankind, you’re going to stay a bachelor all your life?” Addy asked sarcastically.

  “I’d like to get married someday. There are plenty of women who don’t want a man continually underfoot.” He rolled a bead back and forth in the box with his finger. “Most of them don’t want kids underfoot, either, so I guess I’ll have to either give up the idea of kids, or maybe switch careers.” He switched his gaze to Addy. “I wouldn’t be the kind of husband and father you and Emilie want.”

  Addy came perilously close to asking him what made him so sure. Emilie, at least, would take whatever piece of Sam Dawson she could get. As for Sam... Sam and kids went together like peanut butter and jelly. How sad he couldn’t see that. Addy rubbed her elbow. It ached from kneading clay.

  Emilie wiggled and squirmed, so excited she couldn’t sit still. Addy gave her a quick squeeze. They were waiting for Jim Carlson who had invited them to take the train up Pikes Peak with him and his boys. Jim hadn’t mentioned Sam, and Sam hadn’t said how he’d arranged the outing. Emilie’s anticipation pleased Addy. Regardless of Sam Dawson’s instructions, she did not intend to spend the day peering at Jim and his boys under some kind of perverted microscope to see what kind of father and brothers they’d make.

  “How much longer, Addy?” Emilie asked impatiently.

  “Mr. Carlson will be here soon.”

  The sound of a throat being cleared came from the other side of the screen. “Carlson just called.” Sam opened the screen door. “He can’t go. One of his boys has a funny tummy.”

  Emilie’s eyes opened wide. “Can’t go?”

  “I’m sorry, Emilie. We’ll go another time. Mr. Carlson’s son won’t be sick long. He’ll take us another time.”

  Sam bent his knees to sit beside them on the porch steps. “Actually, he probably won’t. When his son got sick at his apartment, Jim called Lois, she went over, and well...” Sam shrugged.

  “They’re getting back together,” Addy guessed. She didn’t need Sam’s nod for confirmation.

  Emilie buried her face in her teddy bear. “I want to ride the train. You said we were. You promised.”

  “I didn’t promise.” Holding Emilie’s face in her hands, Addy scrunched down to the child’s eye level. “I know you want to take the train. If I could make it happen, I would, but I’m not a fairy godmother, Emilie. Riding trains takes money, and I don’t have the money right now. At the end of the summer, if I sell enough jewelry, we can ride a train.” But not this one.

  “Chrissy rode on a plane,” Emilie said in a heart-rending voice. “I want to ride on a train.”

  Emilie’s words drew a clear picture for Addy. The treats other children took for granted didn’t often come Emilie’s way. Addy swallowed hard. “We will, Sweetheart.” Other places had trains. She handed Emilie a tissue from her pocket. “Blow your nose and give me a smile.” When Emilie’s mouth continued to turn down, Addy put a dark frown on her face. “Addy gets maddy when she doesn’t get big smiles.” Reluctantly a tremulous smile curved Emilie’s mouth. Addy smiled back before giving the little girl a big hug. “I love you, Emilie Johnson. Now go wash the unhappiness from your face.”

  Emilie ran into the house, banging the screen door behind her. Sam grabbed Addy’s ankle when she stood. “You know, I haven’t taken that train for years, and I admit I was jealous you and Emilie were going.” Still holding her ankle, he stretched out his legs and leaned back on one elbow. “I’ll buy Jim’s tickets from him and the three of us can go.”

  Fierce anger surged through Addy’s body. Closing her eyes for a moment, she forced herself to breathe slowly and deeply. “I’ve told you before, Emilie and I don’t take charity.” She tried to wrest her ankle free.

  His grip tightened. “If I showed you some pictures of a woman, by looking at the kind of clothes she wears and so on, could you come up with a necklace designed exclusively for her? The woman I have in mind would be crazy about your stuff. I’d be willing to pay in advance.” He hesitated. “I meant to ask you about it earlier.”

  Addy increased her efforts to break free. She wasn’t dumb. The type of woman Sam Dawson escorted wasn’t likely to appreciate an Addy Johnson original. Solid gold studded with diamonds would be more appropriate for Sam’s Boston beauties. Addy never doubted there was more than one.

  Therefore, Sam was offering her charity. Despite claiming he’d meant to ask her earlier, the idea had come to him less than sixty seconds ago when he’d heard Addy’s pathetic sob story to Emilie about how poor they were. He probably couldn’t imagine anyone not being able to afford the train ride up Pikes Peak.

  Addy hated charity. People offered you charity because they pitied you. It was one thing to accept Sam’s help in solving a mutual problem. It was quite another to accept charity. She wasn’t about to take one dime from Sam Dawson. “I’m afraid my jewelry is too wild for you.”

  “A good businesswoman doesn’t turn away a customer, Adeline. You’ll need the money when you run.” Blue eyes blandly noted the look of guilt on Addy’s face.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  “RUN?” Addy asked nonchalantly after a pause which lasted far too long.

  “Do you think I can’t tell when someone’s humoring me? You figure there’s not a chance I’l
l find you a husband,” Sam said, “but you decided it would be easier to bide your time than argue with me. I think you plan to cut and run the minute I leave.”

  “It’s a free country. Think whatever you want.”

  “I notice you don’t tell me I’m wrong.”

  “I haven’t been able to tell you anything since you arrived,” Addy retorted.

  “That’s right, you haven’t.” Sam stood up and yelled through the screen door. “Emilie, we’re taking the train up Pikes Peak today. If you’re going, you have one nanosecond to get down here.”

  “I told you we weren’t going with you.”

  “You can’t tell me anything, remember?” Sam laughed at the vexed look on her face. “Don’t say it.” Turning, he scooped up the child flying through the doorway. “Here’s Squirt, raring to go. Grab your stuff, Adeline, we’re off to see the Peak.”

  One look at Emilie’s smiles and shining eyes, in stark contrast to her earlier tear-drenched face, told Addy she had no choice. “OK, but I’m paying for Emilie’s and my tickets.” She’d juggle the budget somehow. She’d hoped to buy Emilie new clothes in a real store before the little girl started kindergarten this fall, but careful shopping at a thrift shop, and if she cut up some of her own clothes for fabric, she could make—

  “Are you listening, Adeline? Emilie is my date, so I’m buying her ticket. An independent woman like you can buy your own ticket with the profit you make from selling me a necklace.”

  Profit without a gallery’s cut. Addy’s jewelry flew off the shelves, attesting to its popularity. Sam would receive value for his money. “All right. I’ll make the jewelry for you.”

  “Good. I’ll scare up some photographs, and you can draw up some ideas and give me an estimate, which I’ll pay in advance. If the jewelry ends up costing more, I’ll make up the difference,” Sam said in a brisk, impersonal voice. “I’m in no rush, say for Christmas?”

  “Fine.” Addy reached for the screen door. She’d be resettled by then. She’d find a way to send him the necklace.