by Lisa Jordan
Josie’s eyes drifted to the suds in the sink, watching bubbles rise to the surface of the dishwater and pop. Kind of like her dreams. “Praying for a miracle that seems out of reach.”
“Where’s your faith, girl?”
“I think it’s stored in a shoebox in my closet or some other place where I’d need a step stool to reach it.” She attempted a smile, but the muscles in her cheeks refused to cooperate.
Agnes wrapped an arm around her shoulder and squeezed. “See, that’s the great thing about faith—the more you need, the bigger it grows. That little ole mustard seed turns into a mighty tree. Takes some watering, though.”
Did tears count?
Josie closed her eyes. Her daughter’s face with the dark circles and blotchy cheeks swam behind her eyelids. God, you work miracles. Please give one to Hannah.
Agnes rinsed the rest of the dishes and stacked them to dry. “You need to get out of here and go home to that sweet child.”
“I have a few more things to do. You go ahead. I can finish up here.”
The timer dinged.
Agnes reached for the oven mitts. “I’ll take care of these. You do what you gotta do, so we can both get out of here.”
As Agnes removed the batch of cookies from the oven and transferred them to the cooling rack, Josie headed into the dining room to close out the register.
Her shoulders sagged as she stuffed the receipts and cash into the bank bag and tried not to let today’s lack of customers discourage her. All businesses had slow days, right? She blamed it on the weather. Or at least she hoped that was it. She couldn’t afford to close her doors like other small businesses in the area had done in recent months. She needed the insurance for Hannah’s medical bills.
Shadows of the flames from the electric fireplace crawled up the ice-blue walls and reflected off the framed prints of European cafes. She flipped the switch. The flames flickered, then died out.
“Sugar Pie, I’m outta here.” Agnes wrapped a designer scarf around her cinnamon-colored curls like an old Hollywood movie star. Long and leggy, the transplanted Texan had a heart the size of Dallas.
“Thanks for covering for me today, Agnes.”
“Anytime. That’s why you pay me the big bucks.” She winked, blew Josie a kiss and then headed out the front door.
Rusted Christmas bells hanging from a tattered ribbon—drooping with age and faded from sunlight—jangled against the glass as Agnes pulled the door closed behind her. Leftover from the previous owners of the old Baker’s Hardware. Josie considered replacing them with shiny, polished bells when she redid the place. But they added charm, character. They reminded Josie of what used to be.
Things were different now. A fresh start. New paint covered the scars, the imperfections.
The trendy coffee shop on the corner. A new beginning.
Her blends and fresh baked pastries whetted appetites more than a block away. Pride or ego didn’t tell her that. Her bank balance suggested, for once in her life, Josie had made a right choice. Business would pick back up again. It had to.
She’d give it all up, every drop and crumb, to have her daughter healthy again.
Bells from the old stone church down the street rang out the seventh hour, each note reminding Josie she needed to get moving. Hannah needed her.
The bells above the front door rattled again, startling Josie from her thoughts. A quick glance at the clock showed she was five minutes late in closing and had forgotten to turn the sign.
A man stepped through the door, closing it behind him. Dressed in a brown bomber jacket, cream cable-knit sweater and khaki cargo pants, he looked as if he had stepped from the pages of an Eddie Bauer catalog. The only thing missing was a pair of Ray-Ban aviators.
“I’m sorry, but I’m just about to close.” Josie headed for the door to flip the sign to CLOSED, but when the man turned and smiled, her footsteps stalled. “Nick. You c-came.”
He rubbed his hands together. “Hope you don’t mind a visit instead of a phone call. I have to admit seeing you at the university surprised me. It’s been a long time.”
She nodded, wishing her voice wasn’t clogged in her throat like a spoonful of peanut butter.
His long legs ate up the distance between them in a few strides. He reached for her hands, held her at arm’s length and gave her a once-over. “Wow, you look incredible.” He glanced around. “Owning a coffeehouse agrees with you. Decided against being a travel journalist, huh? Dreams can change.”
She pulled her hands away and clasped them behind her back. She couldn’t afford to let his charm soften her heart. She had a responsibility to Hannah. “Motherhood has a way of doing that.”
“You have a child? You and your husband must be very blessed. Congratulations.”
She jerked back as if she had been slapped. “Congratulations? Seriously?”
“Did I say something wrong? I’m sorry. I just assumed…”
He rubbed his earlobe and stared over her shoulder.
“You’re acting like you have no clue.” She moved to the nearest table, straightening the chairs and centering the votive candles.
Nick gripped the back of one of the chairs. “Should I have known? I haven’t been back to Ridgefield since graduation. How long ago did you leave?”
“Couldn’t shake the dust from your boots fast enough, could you?” She snatched a Family Circle magazine off the couch and dropped it in the large wicker basket next to the fireplace.
Nick leveled her with a direct look. “What’s going on here, Josie? Let’s try again. It is good to see you.”
“Is it?” She glared at him, then headed behind the counter for a cloth and bottle of sanitizer.
Nick released the chair and crossed his arms over his chest. “What did I do to make you so angry?”
Josie spritzed sanitizer on the table. “You didn’t call, Nick. Not once. Not even when…not even when she was born. You weren’t there.” She scrubbed at the coffee ring embossed on the table, then threw down the rag. No use. The scar remained.
“But we had broken up.” He took a step toward her. “What did you expect?”
Josie held up a hand, and he stopped. “I expected you to be responsible.”
He held up his hands, palms to the ceiling. “Responsible for what? I’m so lost a GPS couldn’t bring me back to the starting point.”
She dropped onto the couch in front of the fireplace and massaged her forehead. “I needed you.”
Nick rubbed his eyes with his thumb and forefinger. “Just tell me what you’re talking about.”
“Two years ago, my daughter, Hannah, was diagnosed with acute lymphocytic leukemia.”
Nick sat on the matching chair across from her. “I’m so sorry.”
“She went into remission, but the leukemia has come back. Now her doctor is recommending a bone marrow transplant. I’ve been tested, but I’m not a match. Testing her other parent is the most logical choice right now.”
He shot her a puzzled look. “What does that have to do with me?”
Josie jumped to her feet and planted her fists on her hips. “Are you seriously this clueless, Professor? Choosing not to be a part of your daughter’s life doesn’t disqualify you from being her father.”
Chapter Two
“Her what?” His words tripped their way up his throat. His heart hammered against his rib cage. “Did you just say I’m a…father?”
She had to be joking. One look at her crossed arms and jutted chin showed she told the truth. He stood and moved away from her, needing a little distance. Grabbing on to the mantel, he stared at the black pit where logs lay cold. Fake. Not real. Imitation. Just like him.
“My daughter is nine years old, Nick. She’ll be ten in April. You’re the one with the fancy degrees. Figure it out.”
This could not be happening. There had to be some mistake. Wouldn’t he have known? Or at least been told? He faced her again. “How do you know she’s mine?”
“Because yo
u’re the only person I’ve been with. That night after my nonna’s funeral when we…” She looked away, her words trailing off. A strand of hair slipped out of her clip and curled against her cheek.
A tucked away memory filtered through his head. After her grandmother’s funeral, he had taken her for a drive down by the lake. He held her while she cried and kissed away her tears. He had known better, but in the heat of the moment, common sense fell away as quickly as their clothes. Regret coated his throat.
And now they had a child.
Pink tinged her cheeks. “I got pregnant. Hannah is your daughter, too.”
“So you decided to wait until you needed something to tell me?”
Her head snapped up, her brown eyes the size of teacups. “Excuse me? Don’t you dare act like this is news.”
“How am I supposed to act? I’m hearing about this child for the first time.” His words, laced with self-loathing, burned his tongue.
She jumped to her feet, nearly tripping over the coffee table, and poked him in the chest. “I called your mother and begged for your address, but she said it was best that I didn’t hold you back.”
A chill washed over him. He grabbed her wrist. “Wait a second. My mom knew you were pregnant?”
She pulled her hand free and backed away from him. “Of course she did. When she refused to give me your address, she said she’d relay the message and let you decide. Actions really do speak louder than words, don’t they?”
“She never told me.” He scrubbed a hand over his face. Mom, what have you done?
“Yeah, right.” She scoffed and rolled her eyes. “You couldn’t wait to leave Ridgefield for your big shot college and put everything behind you, including me. Now you’re blaming your mom for your lack of decency. I expected more from you, Nick. Funny how expectations end up being disappointments, too.”
Nick fisted his hands to keep from shaking her. Did she seriously think he’d have walked out on her if he had known? Especially what she knew about his childhood? “I swear I didn’t know.”
Her eyes narrowed. “I don’t believe you.”
“It’s the truth.”
Josie’s shoulders sagged. She dropped on the couch, cradling her head in her hands. “Why wouldn’t she tell you?”
Nick sighed and jammed his hands in his pockets. “I have no idea.”
She pointed to the cordless phone on the counter. “Give her a call now and ask.”
“I can’t.” Guilt gripped his vocal cords and twisted. He massaged his throat. Eight years. Still not long enough to forgive himself for destroying his family. “She’s dead.”
Her hand flew to her mouth. “I’m sorry. What happened? Wait. That’s none of my business.”
“Car accident.” He didn’t mention he was the one driving. He pushed ghosts of that night out of his thoughts and focused on the petite Italian beauty in front of him.
“So it’s you and your brother now? Ross, right? How’s he?”
“Yes, Ross. He’s…fine.” And he was. For the most part. He couldn’t tell her about Ross. Not yet.
“I—I thought you knew about Hannah. I’m sorry this is such a shock.” She reached up and touched his arm. “But she’s your daughter, and she needs your help, Nick.”
The pleading in her eyes cut him to the core. In the past ten minutes, his world had been turned upside down. He needed a minute to collect his thoughts.
Turning away, he swept his gaze over a rough-hewn bookcase decorated with ivy and tiny white lights. A stack of books lay on their sides next to a trio of chunky candlesticks in the corner. Cans of tea for sale lined the middle shelf. One of the labels on the tea can boasted an unforgettable experience. He didn’t need to drink tea to have that. It had been handed to him the moment he walked through the door.
He remembered another door, a lifetime ago. The one his father walked out of when Nick was in first grade, leaving him with a sobbing mother and a screaming baby brother. Seeing his father throw that duffel bag in the back of the rusted pickup and barrel down the street had Nick racing after him, screaming his name and crying. He hadn’t seen his dad since. He promised his mother and brother he’d never abandon his family.
But he had done just that to his daughter. He was no better than his father. A pain knifed his gut, threatening to drag the breath right out of him. He pressed a fist against his sternum.
“And then what, Josie?” His voice sounded hoarse to his own ears.
“What do you mean?” She sounded halfway across the room.
He turned and stared, drinking in the dark, loose curls escaping her clip and framing her face, the way her blue shirt and brown pants clung to her soft curves. With the dimmed overhead lighting casting shadows on her, she appeared no more than seventeen. The same age as when he got her pregnant. “What happens after I get tested?”
“Well, we wait to see if you’re a match.” She tugged on the hem of her shirt.
He took a step toward her. “No, I mean with Hannah and me. With you and me.”
Her eyes flashed. “There is no you and me. You burned that bridge a long time ago.”
He’d thought it was the best thing for them. Even after he started his freshman year, he’d thought of her often, had been so tempted to pick up the phone just to hear her voice, but he resisted. He’d had no right to lead her on.
Maybe that was why she hadn’t tried a little harder to contact him. He glanced at her hand. No wedding ring. That didn’t mean she wasn’t in a relationship now. “There will always be a you and me. Now that I know about Hannah, I want to be a part of her life.”
She shot him a “you’ve got to be kidding” look. “You don’t even know her.”
“Not by choice. Now that I have a chance, I’m not going to walk away.” He was not going to be his father. He had to prove to Josie—somehow, some way—that he was in this for the long haul.
“I will not let you hurt her. She’s been through so much already.” Her voice shook. Her fingers trembled as she reached up and released the clip from her hair. It cascaded down her back like a waterfall.
“I promise you—I will never hurt her. I can put her on my insurance.” He waved a hand toward the front of the store. “This is a great little place, but I can help you financially.”
Josie’s eyes narrowed. “I didn’t ask for your money. I want only one thing—a blood test. Hannah’s life depends on you.”
He couldn’t change the past, but he could make up for it. Starting now. She didn’t have to do things alone again. He was here to help. If only he could get her to see that.
How could he prove he was committed to their daughter? His heart stuttered as a sudden thought crossed his mind. No, he couldn’t. It was crazy. Before common sense could engage, he opened his mouth. “Marry me.”
*
If he had suddenly sprouted a horn from the middle of his forehead, Josie wouldn’t have been more shocked. She stared at him. “Excuse me?”
“You heard me.” He stepped closer.
“No. No, I don’t think I did.” She swallowed and tried not to inhale the richness of his cologne. His closeness stirred feelings she’d stuffed away a long time ago. Feelings that got her into trouble.
“Josie—”
“Are you insane?” She stepped back, needing distance. “I asked you for a blood test, you idiot. Not for a marriage proposal. You’re crazy.”
He raised an eyebrow and leaned against a table, arms crossed over his chest. “I’m serious.”
“So am I.” She threw her hands in the air and muttered something in Italian that would’ve gotten her in trouble as a child. “Who in their right mind marries a guy off the street?”
“I’m not exactly a stranger.”
She whirled around and searched his face for a hint of common sense. “To Hannah, you are. I haven’t seen you in over ten years. I have no idea who you are anymore. A little girl’s life is at stake here, and you’re playing games.” Funny how the Nick she knew back then
was completely different than the man standing in front of her.
He watched her without saying a word. His jaw clenched. He was serious.
What a mess this was becoming. “Nick—”
Nick pushed away from the table and shoved his hands in his front pockets. “I missed out on nine years of my daughter’s life. I’m not going to have some test done, give her another piece of me and disappear for the rest of her life. I have a responsibility now. I won’t abandon my family.”
“Your family? Where were you when she was teething? Where were you on the first day of kindergarten? Where were you when she spent the night throwing up after her first chemo treatment? We quit being yours the day Hannah was born, and you didn’t show up.”
“Not. My. Fault.” His voice rose. “Maybe if you had faced me yourself, we wouldn’t be here right now.”
He blamed her? “I was seventeen, living at home, without a high school diploma, much less a job. You expected me to chase you across two states in the off chance you just might want to play house? I don’t think so.” Her chest heaved.
She grabbed the back of the couch and dug her fingers into the fabric. She drew in a deep breath and blew it out slowly before facing him again. Feeling a tiny bit calmer, she turned back to him. “When you didn’t show up after I called your mother, I wrote you out of our lives. But now I’ll do whatever it takes to save Hannah’s life. Even if it means dealing with you again.”
Nick closed the distance between them in two strides and placed both hands on her shoulders. “If I had known about Hannah from day one, I would have been there. I would have given it all up to raise her with you.” Nick’s gaze pierced her soul. “That option was taken from me. I can’t make up the past, but I will be a part of her life—with or without your consent.”
Josie’s heart raced. Was he threatening her? She pulled his hands off her shoulders, squeezed his fingers and softened her tone. “Look, I respect your wanting to be a part of her life, but that doesn’t mean we have to get married. Come on, Nick, get real. Who does that? Besides, how could I marry someone I can’t even be sure is going to stick around?” She had plenty of experience with people claiming to love her and then leaving.
