Читать книгу The Seal's Secret Daughter - Christy Jeffries - Страница 12

Chapter Three

“But what if she changes her mind and doesn’t want to stay with him?” Monica asked Carmen when the two women got downstairs and circled around to the sidewalk in front of Domino’s Deli. “What if she runs away again?”

“Then I’d suggest you let Freckles know that the girl might show up at the Cowgirl Up again. Maybe she thinks of it as a safe space.”

“Does that mean you think she might not feel safe with him?”

“I know you’re worried about the girl.” Carmen placed a reassuring hand on her shoulder. “I can’t predict the future any better than you can, but I got the impression that she ran off the first time thinking she was saving face. You know, getting away before her father could reject her. Kids that age have a tendency to act tough when they’re afraid. When we talked to her back in the restaurant and told her that Ethan was out searching for her and seemed genuinely worried about her well-being, she appeared willing to give him a chance. Listen, Monica, I never would’ve released her into his custody if I thought it wasn’t in her best interest.”

Monica had always liked and trusted the female police officer, who preferred mysteries while her twin sons raced through a couple of Magic Tree House books a week. They’d never really socialized much, but then again, Monica wasn’t much for hanging out with her neighbors or attending the community activities.

She was too busy working two jobs and taking care of Gran. Being pleasant and making small talk with the customers at the restaurant took all the energy she had left. Still, she knew how to keep her eyes and ears open and Carmen Gregson was compassionate with the townspeople, observant on her patrols, and dedicated to her job and family. Everyone in town valued the woman’s opinion.

Looking at her watch, Monica estimated that she had fifteen more minutes before she would have to leave for the library. So she didn’t bother keeping the hesitation from her voice as she asked, “What do you think of Ethan Renault?”

“In what way?” Carmen was a cop and an observer. Like Monica, she probably did her research and analyzed things from all angles.

“As a father, I guess.” Monica stated the obvious when what she really wanted to ask—what she’d really wanted to know for the past few months—was if she was a complete fool for having a teensy tiny crush on the man.

But her ill-advised attraction to Ethan was something she could barely acknowledge to herself. There was no way she would say it out loud. Besides, now certainly wasn’t the time to ask about the guy’s relationship suitability—which had lost all potential anyway the second Trina showed up.

Carmen turned to face her, seeming to look beyond Monica’s forced casual expression and deep down into what her mind was really thinking. Wrapping an arm around her midsection, Monica toyed with the tie of her apron, trying not to feel too exposed.

“He’s one of my husband’s best friends, so keep in mind that my opinion might be a little biased.”

Monica nodded. “Grain of salt taken.”

“When I first met Ethan, I would’ve pegged him for a typical Navy SEAL with a cocky ego and an adrenaline complex. The type of guy who doesn’t mind breaking hearts or breaking bones if it involves having a good time. Although, I’d also pegged Luke the same way and he proved me wrong. I think Ethan has been through a lot and seen a lot, yet doesn’t talk about the darker stuff. Probably hides it behind that flirty smile and arrogant charm.”

So Monica wasn’t the only one who’d noticed the lazy, seductive grin. Or the possibility of a string of broken hearts left in his wake. Resolution made her spine stiffen and her commitment to not fall prey to his flirtatious banter intensified.

“But,” Carmen continued, “I also think he takes his responsibilities seriously and he isn’t afraid of a little adversity. Luke told me that of all his former teammates, Ethan was the one he trusted the most. I know the guy probably doesn’t seem like the fatherly type now, but Trina is in safe hands.”

Monica gave a slight nod as she exhaled, but she still held on to her doubts. Her own father had come and gone from her life many times before he’d finally left for good. She and her mom had lived with Gran until Monica was six, and when her mother passed, Gran seemed to think that her dad might come back to get her. Part of Monica had been terrified that she would have to leave her grandmother and the only home she’d ever known. But the other part of her had been excited that she could have her father back, that she might finally get to experience a dad’s love. Just like Monica, Trina had to be nervous and terrified of what awaited her, but maybe she was just a little excited, too. Excited that she would now get a chance to know the man who made up part of her DNA.

Unfortunately, that excitement would soon fade once Ethan let the girl down. Even with Carmen’s vote of confidence on keeping her safe, there was no way a tried-and-true bachelor like him could change his ways and provide a nurturing home to a preteen who’d just had her world turned upside down.

For Trina’s sake, Monica would hope for the best. But leopards didn’t change their spots. It was a good reminder for the next time she found herself attracted to a man like Ethan. Blowing a curl out of her face, she couldn’t believe that she’d been secretly enjoying his flirtatious banter every Monday and Wednesday when she’d waited on him during her breakfast shift, hoping he’d ask her out.

A crackling sound shot out from the walkie-talkie on Carmen’s duty belt and Monica recognized the dispatcher’s voice through the static. A retiree with a tie-dye shirt and comb-over hairstyle that didn’t fool anyone, Harv Jenkins preferred science fiction and the occasional graphic novel. In addition to being a part-time dispatcher, he also volunteered at the senior citizens center and had always been sweet to Gran, despite the fact that her grandmother hated his comic book drawing classes. But his words today made Monica’s pulse leap. “Be advised, we just got a call about the fire alarm going off at the Alvarez house again.”

The siren from the nearby fire engine rang out and a heavy ball of dread settled in Monica’s stomach, a familiar feeling lately where her grandmother was concerned.

“You want me to drive you in the patrol car?” Carmen offered.

“No thanks.” Monica jogged across the street toward the Cowgirl Up Café and called over her shoulder, “As long as it’s not as bad as last time, I’m going to need my own car to get to work after I check on her.”

She’d already left her shift at the restaurant early to help with Trina. Now she was going to be late to open the library to help with Gran. And it was Western Wednesday, which meant that she only had thirty minutes before the Louis L’Amour book club arrived for their monthly meeting in the reading room.

At this rate, Monica was going to lose both of her jobs. And then where would she and Gran be?

* * *

Trina came out of the bathroom as soon as Monica and Carmen left. Ethan thought about offering to show her around the small apartment, but honestly, there wasn’t much need for a tour at this point. Besides the kitchen and combination living room–dining room, there were only two bedrooms and she’d probably already seen those on her way down the hall.

Plus, she still hadn’t said much directly to him and he didn’t really know what to say either.

He tried to remember what he’d been like at that age. Sullen and defiant and lonely because his dad was often out of town working for days at a time, leaving Ethan alone to fend for himself. Swallowing down his own feelings of resentment, he decided to try a different tactic.

“So, you have a caseworker back home?” he asked. She’d casually mentioned as much back in the kitchen at the Cowgirl Up as though it were no big deal. As though every eleven-year-old had one of those. If she was anything like him, she would try to put on a tough front to cover how scared she was.

Trina shrugged, but at least it was a response.

So much for the small talk. Ethan took a deep breath, steeling himself for the tougher questions he knew he needed to ask. But before he could, she turned to face him, her eyes narrowed with doubt.

“Were you really a Navy SEAL?”

Okay, so if she wasn’t going to talk about herself, maybe he could lure her into a conversation by letting down his own guard. “How did you know that?”

“I’m not blind.” She pointed to a class picture in a frame on his fireplace mantel. Besides the small, fake plant he’d inherited from his dad, it was the only personal item in the room. “It says ‘Basic Underwater Demolition/SEALS Training.’ Plus, Chantal already told me you were in the Navy.”

A jolt of surprise caught him, and not just because the girl referred to her mother by first name. “What else did your mom tell you about me?”

“That you got her pregnant and then took off.”

“Trina...” Ethan took a cautious step forward, dipping his chin so he could catch her eyes. “I want you to understand that I never would’ve left if I’d known about you.” If she didn’t believe anything else about him, he needed her to know that he’d never intentionally abandoned anyone.

Instead of giving any indication that she heard his words, Trina pivoted as she studied everything else in the living room but him. “She once told me that you dated anyone in a skirt.”

Ethan’s throat tightened. Was this how eleven-year-olds talked nowadays? He didn’t want to call her mother’s honesty into question, but he also didn’t like the idea that the deck of lies was already stacked against him. “That’s not exactly a fair assessment, considering we only knew each other for a couple of months and we both were in a rush to act like grownups. I was barely eighteen at the time.”

“That’s how old I’ll be in seven years,” Trina said without looking at him.

Whoa. He did a double take as he realized she was right. He’d already missed more than half of her childhood, more than eleven birthday parties according to the birth certificate in her bag. “So, you just had a birthday, huh?”

“I guess. You know, this apartment is a total dump.”

He followed her gaze down the hall to the second bedroom, which held a creaky twin bed, a cheap dresser and all the cardboard boxes he’d had shipped from his storage unit in San Diego and never got around to unpacking. “Well, it came furnished and I only moved here six months ago. Speaking of which, how did your mom know where to find me?”

That got her attention and her lips went from a pout to a half smirk. “She didn’t. I did.”

Her admission floored him, but before he could ask how, a knock sounded at the door. If Ethan hadn’t already been studying Trina, he would’ve missed the apprehension flashing through her eyes before she hung her head and focused on the toe of her canvas sneaker again.

When he peeked through the peephole, he recognized Kylie Gregson, Kane’s sister, and Mia McCormick. Not only was Kylie related to his boss, she was also the sister-in-law of Ethan’s best friend Luke. Kylie and her best friend Mia wouldn’t come to his house unless it was for a good reason. A knot formed in his stomach and he glanced back to where Trina was standing. He wanted to communicate to her that he couldn’t not answer, but his daughter wouldn’t lift her face.

Daughter. He was still getting used to that word.

The knock sounded again, this time right against his temple which was resting against the door.

Smothering a groan, Ethan twisted the knob and let the women in.

“We can’t stay,” Kylie explained, passing him two paper shopping bags with handles. “But we wanted to drop off some stuff for Sugar Falls’ newest resident.”

If it had been anyone else, Ethan might’ve thought they were looking for an inside scoop. But he played poker on Thursday nights with both of their husbands and knew the women were sincere.

“What is it?” he asked.

“Mostly a hodgepodge of things a girl might need,” Kylie said. Trina must’ve shown some interest from behind him because one of their unexpected visitors looked past Ethan and spoke to his daughter. “Hi. I’m Kylie Gregson. This is Mia McCormick. She owns the dance studio in town.”

Mia lifted up a pink duffel bag. “I know these probably aren’t your style, but there aren’t a ton of shopping options in Sugar Falls besides the sporting goods store and Designs by Doris, which tends to only carry stuff for the...uh...senior generation, shall we say? Anyway, it was the best we could do on short notice.”

The women held up their offerings, but Trina didn’t make a move to take anything. She just stood there in her oversize T-shirt and jeans, her blue eyes were fixated on the bags as if they contained explosives. Ethan should’ve probably accepted them on her behalf, but his brain was still trying to catch up and process how the women not only knew that his daughter needed new stuff, but had gotten everything together so quickly.

“Anyway, I’ll be going into Boise this weekend,” Kylie said, setting the bags inside the entryway, before she took a retreating step onto the landing outside his front door. “So let me know if you want to pick out some different stuff. I’d be happy to take you shopping, if your dad is okay with that.”

With a wink at Ethan, she and Mia were out the door and making their way down the stairs before Ethan could even offer so much as a thanks. He’d yet to think about where he would get suitable clothes for a girl. But apparently, word had already spread about his daughter’s unexpected arrival and her meager possessions. For the second time today, he was the last to figure things out and the feeling left him hollow and powerless.

“I guess my mom was right about women wanting to throw themselves at you,” Trina finally said before slowly approaching the bags Kylie and Mia had left behind.

The back of his neck prickled in defense. “Those ladies are married to some of my good friends.”

Trina shrugged a shoulder, then used a toe to nudge the duffel as though she was looking for a hidden booby trap before she picked it up. Ethan scooped up the bags and carried them the few feet to the ugly orange sofa.

“What about that lady Monica?” Trina asked as she looked longingly at the bags. “Was she just being nice to me because she’s married to one of your friends, too?”

“Monica Alvarez isn’t married,” Ethan replied a bit too quickly, then cleared his throat. And she most definitely wasn’t throwing herself at him. In fact, she’d acted like she couldn’t get away from Ethan fast enough this morning. Which was interesting since, normally, she shut him down with a polite shyness or an indifference that made him want to pursue her even more. Today, though, there was an edge to her that he’d never seen and her anger had been solely directed at him. People didn’t get mad if they didn’t care.

Did that mean that she possibly did care about him? A jolt of energy made its way through his bloodstream and a smile tugged at the corners of his lips as he thought of how close she’d stood when she was lecturing him in the corner of the Cowgirl Up kitchen. Of how her breasts had jutted forward when she’d—

“All this stuff is brand-new,” Trina said, interrupting the inappropriate turn his thoughts had taken. “It still has tags.”

She pulled out a green down jacket in a ladies’ size extra-small and a pair of black pants made of a waterproof fabric that looked a few inches too long. There were also a couple of plain, long-sleeved T-shirts and a package of thick socks. Trina held the pink duffel upside down and leggings, a wraparound sweater and some sort of white, strappy tank-top thing that looked like a sports bra fell out. He couldn’t be sure because Trina shoved it back into the bag too quickly for Ethan to see, which was just as well.

There was a separate sack at the bottom of one of the brown bags with the name of Lester’s Pharmacy on the front. Inside, Trina found a purple toothbrush and an assortment of body lotions and hair products that smelled way more fruity than anything Ethan kept stocked in his bathroom. Every item strewn across his ugly sofa was another reminder that he had absolutely no idea what a girl her age would need.

He racked his brain trying to think of what he’d required when he was that age. Clothes, food—lots of food—a skateboard, music, video games, friends.

“I guess we should probably get you registered for school,” he said, and this time he was positive that it was panic that flashed across her face. “What grade are you in?”

“I’m really tired.” She shoved the new clothes—the ones he would have to eventually reimburse someone for—onto one cushion at the end of the sofa and plopped down beside them. “Can I take a nap?”

His eyes narrowed at her evasive maneuver to throw him off topic. Although, back when he was that age, he tried to avoid any discussions involving school, as well.

“Yeah. Um, I don’t really have the extra room set up just yet, but you can sleep on my bed if you want. Or right here, I guess. Make yourself at home.” He knew the platitude sounded forced, but he truly hoped that he could make Trina feel welcome. He just didn’t quite know how to do it. “Maybe when you wake up, we can go to the grocery store or something?”

“Whatever,” she replied with a yawn before curling into a ball and using the green puffy jacket as a pillow.

It was only ten in the morning and there were still a million questions Ethan wanted to ask her. But she looked depleted and a little lost and, frankly, he didn’t even know where to begin. As she dozed on the sofa, Ethan opened one of his kitchen cupboards and took stock of the bare shelves. He debated whether or not he should go to Duncan’s Market while his daughter was asleep, but she’d already pulled one vanishing act today. He didn’t want to provide her with an opportunity to pull another.

Daughter. There was that word again, although it was coming to his mind with much more frequency considering the fact he still wasn’t one hundred percent convinced Trina was his. He used the internet search engine on his smartphone and typed in the letters “DNA,” but a wave of guilt crashed into him before he could add the word “test.” It felt wrong to even think about blood tests and genetic proof while she was right there in the room, peacefully sleeping after what she’d been through this morning. It wasn’t like he would get any answers today, anyway. Even if he did, would it change the fact that her mother had already abandoned her and she had nowhere else to go?

He shoved the phone into the back pocket of his jeans and went into the second bedroom to stare at the dozen or so cardboard boxes piled everywhere. The framed picture on his mantel had been a gift from Luke and Carmen when Ethan had moved to town. The sad-looking silk plant beside it was small enough to fit in his rucksack and served as a reminder that no matter where he went, his old man was always with him.

These boxes held the remaining contents of his life, but he couldn’t exactly remember what he’d placed in them before leaving it all in storage. He rolled up his sleeves then hefted one onto his shoulder. He didn’t bother opening any of them as he set to work transferring each box to his own bedroom. Whatever was in them obviously wasn’t something he’d needed in the past six months. Or even longer, considering he’d likely packed them right after that last deployment that had ended in disaster and resulted in his best friend flying home in a flag-draped casket.

He honestly wasn’t sure what he needed anymore. All he knew was what he didn’t need—and that was to have someone else depending on him.

Because the last time he’d been responsible for another person, they’d ended up dying under his watch.