Читать книгу The Return of Connor Mansfield - Beth Cornelison - Страница 13

Chapter 5

Darby froze as Connor knelt before their daughter and stroked her cheek. Seeing the man with whom she’d dreamed of building a future beside the child they’d created together was an image she’d conjured so many times in her mind. And now it was real. But also heartbreaking.

Though she knew Connor would never hurt Savannah, he was a stranger to her. Connor could easily frighten Savannah if he came on too strong, too fast. Darby’s heart thumped wildly, and she held her breath, watching.

“Hello, precious girl,” he murmured.

Savannah wrinkled her nose and tipped her head as she studied her father and the medical scrubs. “Ah you a doctuh?”

Darby joined Connor in a crouch beside Savannah. “No, baby, this is...uh—” Daddy. The name stuck in her throat. Even though Connor was here for the sole purpose of meeting his daughter, the idea of telling Savannah who he was, only to rip her father away within days seemed cruel. She met Connor’s golden-eyed gaze, and a shudder raced through her. The tender awe and love in his expression wrenched inside her, tripping over her anger and confusion.

Darby scooped Savannah into her arms quickly and stood, turning her back to him. She needed to set some ground rules with Connor before things went any further.

“What’s wrong, Priss? Did we wake you?” She stroked Savannah’s head. “Does your tummy hurt?”

Savannah shrugged and stuck her thumb in her mouth. Darby didn’t have the heart to fight the bad habit that had reappeared recently. Anything that gave her baby comfort was fine with her. Her daughter craned her neck to peer over Darby’s shoulder to Connor. “Where’s Kaylee?”

A grin tugged Darby’s lips. Savannah loved Kaylee, Grant’s new baby. And she had to admit, with his hair darkened, Connor looked a good bit like his older brother. “Kaylee’s at home. That’s not Uncle Grant.”

Darby shot Hunter a glance, looking for help, but Connor’s younger brother only shrugged, deferring to her. He jammed his hands in his jeans pockets and sent her a commiserative glance.

She leaned back to meet Savannah’s light brown eyes. Connor’s eyes. “Remember at the hospital a little while ago, Uncle Hunter told you he had another brother?”

Savannah wrinkled her nose again, clearly skeptical.

From behind her, Connor moved into her peripheral view. The knot of frustration and overwhelming confusion tightened in her belly. “This man is Hunter’s other brother.”

“The one who died?” Savannah asked, her brow furrowed in obvious confusion.

“Well, that’s what we thought. But we were wrong.” Darby rubbed her daughter’s arm and forced a grin. “Connor didn’t die after all.”

“You can call me Uncle Connor,” he told Savannah, taking Darby’s cue. His baritone voice was pitched low and rolled over her like a warm spring breeze. “It’s nice to meet you, Savannah.”

When I hold you like this, the rest of the world just fades away. You are my everything, Darby. The echo from her past, spoken in the same deep, lulling tone, washed through her with a bittersweet pang.

Uncle Connor. Another lie. Connor should be more to Savannah than the uncle who passed through town once when she was almost four years old.

Savannah’s father was alive. When she remembered the call that started today’s incredible events and brought Connor here to meet his little girl, she was hit with a fresh onslaught of emotion. Fragile hope. Wary joy. Tentative expectation.

Could Connor be the key to saving Savannah’s life? Darby couldn’t help the tiny catch in her breath when she considered the prospect of Connor’s marrow healing their daughter.

Connor shifted his gaze to Darby, and his face grew serious and direct, his eyes blazing with a purpose and passion. Clearly he’d read in her face where her thoughts had strayed. He’d always had an uncanny knack for reading her. Years ago, she’d believed that synergy meant they were soul mates. But then he’d left her.

Savannah patted her mother’s face, claiming her attention. “I want some juice.”

Darby shook off the painful memories, hoping Savannah wouldn’t pick up on the tension in the room. Clearing her throat, she asked, “How do you ask for juice?”

Savannah rolled her eyes. Forget the teen years. Her daughter was already a drama queen. With an exaggerated sigh, Savannah said, “May I have juice? Please!” She grasped her throat, adding, “I’m so thirsty!” Then, obviously an encore for their guest, Savannah wilted in Darby’s arms as if she’d passed out from thirst.

Connor grinned, clearly amused by Savannah’s melodrama.

“Someone’s been hanging out with Peyton,” Hunter said with a laugh. “I swear, where do my nieces get all this angst and theatrics?”

Savannah perked up hearing the name of Grant’s oldest daughter. “Peyton is my cousin. She’s six.” She fumbled to hold up six fingers.

“Six,” Connor repeated, his expression honestly stunned as he absorbed the truth of how his niece had aged in his absence.

“Come on, silly goose. Let’s get your juice.” She cast a glance to Connor as she headed into the kitchen. “Would you like to join us for a drink?”

“Absolutely.” He and Hunter fell in step behind them. “What kind of juice are we having?”

“Gwape!”

“My favorite.”

“Mine, too!” Savannah grinned, her eyes sparkling as Darby helped her climb into her booster seat at the table.

Darby bit her bottom lip, pleased to see how comfortable Savannah seemed around Connor, but also troubled. Her daughter adored Hunter and Grant. If she became as attached to Connor as she was to her uncles, Savannah would be heartbroken when Connor left.

She paused with her hand on the refrigerator door, a stabbing ache lancing her chest. When Connor left... The cruel truth was, Connor was leaving again, going back into hiding with WitSec. And whether she hated him for his lies and resented him for his desertion, she would still be devastated when he returned to his new life.

* * *

While Darby poured juice for them, Connor pulled Hunter into Darby’s mudroom. “Did you sleep with her?”

Hunter faced him, a startled look lifting his brow. “Did you really just ask me that?”

Connor firmed his jaw. “Don’t you think I have the right to know?”

His brother squared his shoulders. “I won’t apologize for being Darby’s friend, for giving her the support and comfort she’s needed the past few years. Or for being a father figure to my niece. Losing you was hell on Darby. Being a single mother, juggling work and a baby has been tough, and now, with Savannah sick—”

“Answer the question, Hunter.”

His brother paused, looked away and sighed. “If you were anyone else, and the circumstances were any different, I’d tell you it’s none of your business. But—”

“Did you sleep with her?” Connor grated impatiently.

Hunter propped a hand on the washing machine and narrowed a glare on him. “No. We’ve never had that kind of relationship. You know that.” A muscle in his jaw ticked, and he glanced away for a moment, a telling gesture, before facing Connor again. “But I asked her to marry me.”

Connor stiffened. “What?”

“When she told me she was pregnant...” Hunter swiped a hand over his mouth. “We thought you were dead, bro. I didn’t want her to feel she had to face being a mother alone. I thought I was doing the right thing.”

“What’d she say?” Connor held his breath.

“I’d think that was obvious. She said she didn’t want me to give up the chance to find my soul mate and spend my life with someone I loved. She said it didn’t feel right to marry me when she was still in love with my brother.”

Connor drew his shoulders back and scoffed. “Still in love? You could have fooled me.” He glanced back toward the kitchen, remembering Darby’s angry outburst.

“Can you blame her for being mad?” Hunter jammed his hand on his hip and arched a dark brown eyebrow. “She’s got a right to be hurt. You’ve been lying to her with your absence for more than four years. Where have you been? How could you trick us all into thinking you were dead?”

Connor sighed and scrubbed a hand down his face. “Long story. I promise you’ll get the details soon, but right now, I need to get back in there and drink juice with my daughter.”

Hunter huffed. “You mean your niece.” Sarcasm dripped from Hunter’s tone. “Why didn’t you tell her the truth?”

“That was Darby’s call. I’d love for Savannah to know who I am. I want to hear her call me Daddy more than anything. But I won’t hurt her, either. And when I have to leave again—”

Hunter straightened, his expression startled. “You’re not staying?”

Connor sighed, a hollow ache throbbing behind his ribs. “I can’t. If I blow my cover, all of you could be put at risk.” He took a step toward his younger brother. “For what it’s worth, I’m sorry. For the pain I caused you. All of the family. If I’d thought there was another way...”

Hunter’s expression eased, his brow furrowing. “Mom took it especially hard.”

Connor dropped his gaze to his feet. “I can imagine.” Then, glancing back up, he met his brother’s eyes. “How are Mom and Dad?”

“They’re doin’ all right. They look older. First they lost you. Now Savannah is sick. It’s been difficult for them.” Hunter shook his head sorrowfully, then sent him a half grin. “Kaylee’s been a bright spot, though.”

“Kaylee?” Connor asked, recalling Savannah asking about the girl.

A wider smile split Hunter’s face. “Kaylee is Grant and Tracy’s new baby. She’s two months old and cute as can be. Savannah adores her.” He shrugged, a sappy grin on his face. “We all do. Peyton dotes on her baby sister, and Grant is over the moon. Tracy miscarried twice in three years before they had Kaylee. So naturally we’re all thrilled for them.”

Connor smiled, remembering how his older brother had gushed when his first daughter had been born. Geez, he thought, Peyton is six years old now. Almost seven.

“That’s awesome. No one deserves it more. He’s a great dad.”

Hunter held Connor’s gaze for a moment, then stepped forward to give Connor another bear hug. “We’ve missed you, Con.”

Connor had to battle the surge of emotion in his throat before he could respond. “It’s good to be back.” Even if I can’t stay...

Pulling away, Hunter hitched his head toward the kitchen. “Now get in there and get to know your own daughter.”

My daughter. His pulse hiccupped in his chest as he stepped back into the kitchen.

“Sit by me, Uncle Connuh!” Savannah patted the table next to her.

“I’d be honored.” He pulled out the chair beside his daughter and took a sip of the grape juice Darby had waiting for him. Savannah already had a purple mustache from her juice, and Connor chuckled. “Looks like you’re wearing your juice.”

“Oops!” She giggled and swiped at her face with her arm.

His own beard and mustache, prosthetics he’d put on that morning with Raleigh’s help to aid in his disguise, itched. He looked forward to pulling off the faux facial hair at the first chance he got.

“Napkin,” Darby said from the kitchen.

Savannah reached for a napkin, her hand flapping against the table when she came up short. Connor handed her one and pulled another for himself. He found himself staring at the fragile little girl he’d helped create, marveling at every freckle, every precocious gesture. And worrying over every obvious sign of her illness. The hair loss, the shadows beneath her gold eyes, the red needle marks and bruising on her arms where she’d obviously been stuck for blood draws and chemotherapy treatment.

Leukemia. His gut twisted. His baby had cancer. How had Darby managed these past months with that dark diagnosis? Bile churned inside him. He should have been here, should have been with Darby, sharing the burden, supporting her.

Hell, he should have been here for Savannah’s birth, her first steps, her first words. When his sinuses burned with his rising grief, he gritted his back teeth, forcing down the sting of tears and regret. He hated all the milestones he’d missed, but he couldn’t let his daughter see his sorrow.

Someone pounded on Darby’s back door, then threw it open with a crash. “Darby!”

Connor stiffened, recognizing the voice.

“Grandma!” Savannah chirped.

“Darby, is it true? Is Connor—” His mother burst into the kitchen from the mudroom. With a gasp, she staggered to a stop when she spotted him and wheezed, “Alive.”