Читать книгу The Dad Next Door - Stephanie Dees - Страница 11

Chapter Two

Claire leaned over the kitchen table, her pen moving almost as fast as her mind as she made an action list for the next day. A small mountain of chocolate wrappers smushed into little silver balls lined the table. The shock had faded and been replaced by a certainty that no matter how hard this was, she wasn’t going to back down. Of course, electricity would help.

The house was completely dark now except for the kitchen, which was lit by the several dozen candles she’d found in the closets around the house. A large room that ran the width of the house with a fireplace at one end, the kitchen had real potential as a gathering place.

At current count, there were one hundred and forty-two things on the to-do list and that was just for the house. It didn’t begin to cover the mountain of paperwork and red tape she had to tackle.

A knock at the open door was loud in the too-quiet house. She jumped to her feet, her hand at her chest. Through the screen, she saw the guy from earlier.

Joe, he’d said his name was. He was still dressed the same, except for the boots, which she hadn’t noticed before. They were scuffed and dusty and well-worn, which made her think there might be some hope for him. He didn’t have the sunglasses on, but they were in his T-shirt pocket.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you. You were pretty deep in thought.” He gave her a little apologetic shrug.

She walked to the door. “I didn’t expect to see you again so soon. Is there a problem?”

He shook his head. “No, not at all. You look busy.”

She’d changed into different jeans—ones without a stain—and a soft, loose T-shirt. Not so fancy, but at least it was clean. “I’m making a list. A very long list.”

“May I come in?”

She hesitated before she unlatched the screen, but it wasn’t like he hadn’t been alone with her in the house this afternoon and this wasn’t the big city. People were probably neighborly here. She pushed the door open and he stepped inside the room. “I have a few Diet Cokes left in my cooler if you’d like one.”

“No, thanks, I’m good.” He tested a chair before he sat down in it. “What’s first on the list?”

“Getting more candles. Or even better, electricity.”

The corner of his mouth kicked up again. “That does seem like a priority.”

“Right?” She stacked the papers on the table and watched as the shadows from the candles danced across his face. “Before it got dark, I was able to look around a little bit. Most of the house is structurally sound, but all of it needs work if it’s going to be livable.”

“It sounds like a huge undertaking.”

She appreciated that he didn’t try to sugarcoat the truth. It was a huge undertaking. Gigantic. She blinked. “Yeah. My mom wasn’t afraid of picking up a hammer and taught me to be the same way, so I can do some of the work myself, but even so, the timetable is going to be tight.”

“It’s a beautiful old place. It will be great when it’s all fixed up.” His eyes were gentle and hers stung, again.

She told herself to get a grip. “Thanks. I think it can be, too. So what brings you out this way again?”

Joe cleared his throat. “My mom always cooks enough food for the entire block and she wanted me to invite you to dinner. It’s also possible that she wants to get a good look at you before the rest of the town does.”

“That’s nice... I think.” The candles flickered in the breeze from the open window and she glanced around the dim room. “You live with your mom?”

A bark of laughter escaped. “Yes, thanks for mentioning that. I wasn’t planning on staying in Red Hill Springs long enough to need my own place. My daughter is living with me now, though, so I’m looking. It’s hard to find a short-term rental in a town this size.”

“What brought you back to Red Hill Springs?”

“My dad died. I got shot.” He shrugged, like that kind of thing happened every day.

“Were you hurt badly? How long are you in town for? How old is your daughter?” So many questions. He was so much less predictable than she’d thought when she first met him. Those boots didn’t lie.

“I was shot in the line of duty. I’m a cop, like my dad was. I’ve been here for four months rehabbing my shoulder and will be here at least two more. And Amelia’s twelve.”

She was quiet for a moment, absorbing all the information. “Does your daughter like it here?”

Joe grimaced. “I wouldn’t normally lead with this information, but if you’re around town at all, you’ll hear it. Her mother—” He stumbled a little on that word but quickly recovered. “Her mother decided to go into rehab and dropped her off at my mom’s with a note and a backpack. I didn’t know she existed.”

Dark lashes had dropped over his eyes and she couldn’t see his expression. But the tone of his voice sounded like shame and that wasn’t okay. “Rehab is good, I guess, right?”

“If that’s where she actually went. I’ve checked all the ones within a few hours’ drive and she isn’t registered at any of them. She made a bad mistake, but I’m not sorry my daughter is with me.” He made a face. “Amelia’s not too happy about it, but that’s another story.”

Claire didn’t know why she felt such a kinship with this man she didn’t know, but there was something. Maybe it was that he was starting his life over with a daughter and she was starting over, period.

Maybe.

She looked at him, considered. And then thought, why not? “There’s a little cabin on the property, on the other side of the pond from here. It’s in pretty bad shape from what I can tell, but if you want to look at it tomorrow, you’re welcome to it.”

His head snapped up. “How much do you want for rent?”

“We can talk about the rent after you see it. It’s not much, but it has a pretty view.”

“I really don’t know how long I’ll be here, but thank you, it’s a kind offer.” He stood. “We should be getting back for dinner. And I forgot to mention my mom also said to tell you to bring your bag and you can sleep in my sister’s room.”

The thought of not spending the night on the floor in this creepy, silent house was appealing, but she didn’t move. “That’s really not necessary. I don’t want to put your mother out.”

“You won’t be putting her out, believe me. Plus, she insisted and I’ll get in trouble if you don’t.”

The thought of this big, muscular man getting in trouble with his mom amused her. “I do appreciate it, but this is going to be my home. I think I better get used to it.”

In the distance, an animal howled. The haunting sound hung in the air. Claire’s heart began to pound. “What was that?”

“Sounded like a coyote. They’re opportunistic hunters, but you’re probably fine in here.”

She couldn’t really see his expression across the room in the candlelight, but he seemed dead serious. Maybe she should go to stay at his mother’s house.

No. Maybe it was pure stubbornness, but she was staying. “I’ll be fine. Please tell your mom I appreciate the offer and I’ll look forward to meeting her.”

He looked skeptical but didn’t argue. “If you’re sure.”

She wasn’t sure at all. “I am.”

“Okay, then, I’ll see you around.” He swung the screen door open and a few minutes later, all she could see was the taillights of his truck headed away from her house.

The coyote howled again, and this time he was joined by his friends. She closed the door and locked it. It was going to be a long night.

* * *

Joe lifted the cup of coffee and savored a moment of peace before the battle began again. The battle for ground with Amelia, the battle to rehab his shoulder and regain his range of motion. He clenched his fist and uncurled his fingers one at a time.

In the kitchen, pans clanged, bacon sizzled and Martin, the cook, yelled, “Order up.” His mother bustled behind the counter, a ready smile and a fresh cup of coffee for everyone.

Behind the silver aviators, he watched his twelve-year-old daughter across the Formica table from him. Her eyes were on her cell phone, thumbs flying. She might as well have been in another state for all the attention she was paying him. “What do you want for breakfast, Amelia?”

She didn’t look up.

Lanna, best waitress at the Hilltop, stopped at their table. “Hey, Joe, what’ll it be?”

They’d been friends since middle school when they used to sneak behind the gym for a smoke. She’d written him letters every single month while he’d been overseas. “I’ll have my usual and Amelia will have blueberry pancakes.”

Lanna topped off his coffee from the pot on her tray and raised one perfectly arched eyebrow. “Pancakes today. All right, then. Be back in a jiff.”

Every day Joe insisted that Amelia join him for breakfast before school at his mother’s diner. Every day she refused to eat. Every day he ordered her something different off the menu, figuring eventually he’d order something she wouldn’t be able to refuse.

“How’s school going? Have you gotten to know any of your teachers?”

No answer.

“My favorite teacher was Mr. McAdams. We called him the Mac Attack. He brought doughnuts to our homeroom every Friday.” He looked up as Lanna brought their food and slid it onto the table, along with a warm pitcher of maple syrup.

“There you go. Y’all holler if you need anything, okay? Bertie said to tell you she put extra blueberries in the pancakes, just for you, Amelia.”

Amelia still didn’t look up, but he saw her swallow hard. The edges of the pancakes were crisp and buttery, the scent of blueberries and warm maple syrup mingling in the air. It had to be getting to her.

The chimes at the entrance jingled and Claire Conley came through the door, light brown ponytail swinging. She had jeans and a sweatshirt on, but as she got closer, he saw the edge of a flannel pajama top sticking out from under the sweatshirt. There was a crease in her cheek from a pillow. She obviously needed coffee more than he did. As she caught sight of him, he held a mug up to her, an offering.

Claire cupped it in both hands and took a long, greedy sip, sighing in appreciation. “Thanks. Obviously, I didn’t think this through. No electricity means no coffee. And I didn’t get to sleep until about four. Crazy coyotes.”

“Claire Conley, this is my daughter, Amelia.”

Amelia still didn’t speak, but she did look up to check Claire out.

Claire smiled at her, seemingly oblivious to the tension between the two of them. “I just came in to pick up some breakfast. I have to get back to the farm. My horse is being trailered in today. Amelia, you’ll have to come and see him.”

Amelia’s blue eyes widened. “Is she pretty?”

“Yes, very handsome. His name is Freckles.” Claire dug her cell phone out of her back pocket and showed Amelia a picture.

“He’s awesome. I want to be a vet one day.”

Joe looked from Amelia to Claire. Amelia had just said more words in the last sixty seconds than Joe had heard in two weeks. He jumped into the conversation. “I’ll pick you up after school and we’ll go see Claire’s horse, if you want.”

She shot him a quelling look, grabbed her phone and shrugged into her backpack at the faint sound of a bell ringing in the distance. “It’s time for school. See you later, Claire.”

Watching as she crossed the street to the school, Joe couldn’t help but think she looked so small with that enormous backpack. He turned back to Claire. “I can’t believe you got her to talk. She’s been on a conversation strike.”

She shrugged and he waved at the bench across from him. “Feel free to eat the pancakes. She didn’t touch them. She’s on an eating strike, too.”

Sliding onto the red vinyl bench across from him, Claire looked up, startled. “She’s not eating? For how long?”

“Don’t worry, she eats. Just not with me. She doesn’t trust me and, really, I don’t blame her. She thought I didn’t want anything to do with her for twelve years.”

Lanna slid a to-go box onto the table in front of Joe. “For the pancakes. Coffee for you, miss?”

“Claire Conley. It’s nice to meet you. I’d love some coffee, thanks.”

“Claire...got it. I’m Lanna.” The light dawned in Lanna’s eyes as she poured a mug for Claire and placed some cream on the table. “You’re the mayor’s daughter. No one even knew the mayor had a daughter. Everyone’s talking about it. Need anything else, just yell.”

“It was a closed adoption, so I didn’t know the mayor was my father, either, until recently. I guess my arrival will be fueling the town gossip for a while.” Claire’s eyes sparkled with amusement as Lanna hustled back to the kitchen.

“No worries. Pretty sure Amelia and I still occupy the top spot.” Joe cleared his throat. “So, the coyotes kept you awake?”

“I didn’t even know coyotes were a thing, but I looked it up on the internet on my phone. There are hordes of them.” She shuddered. “But they’re afraid of donkeys, so guess who will be getting a couple as soon as the funds allow?” Claire grinned and shoved a huge bite of blueberry pancakes into her mouth.

“I’m guessing that would be you.”

“These are so good.” She took another big bite out of the pancakes and picked up her mug. “Okay, so when you come out to the farm to look at the cabin later on, bring Amelia to see Freckles. He really is good with kids.”

“Believe it or not, that exit this morning was progress. The first week, she wasn’t nearly as friendly and affectionate.”

She laughed and almost choked on her coffee. “I know you probably keep hearing this, but give it some time, you’re doing fine.”

Joe narrowed his eyes at her. “And you know this because you have a bunch of teenage daughters who hate you, so you’ve been through the process?”

Claire laughed again, her lake-blue eyes wide-open now. “Something like that. I’m a social worker. I had a bunch of teenagers in my caseload who hated my guts and a few younger kids who could give them a run for their money. I loved the feeling when they eventually learned they could trust me. And you will, too, once you get past this stage.”

“How exactly do I do that?”

“By doing what you’re doing. Don’t let her get away with not sitting at the table or joining in family outings. The daily breakfasts are good. Eventually, she’ll get the idea that you’re sticking.”

He studied her face as she talked—animated, alive—and comprehension dawned. He had enough instincts and experience to see trouble brewing. “So when you say you’re ‘kind of’ opening a bed-and-breakfast, what you really mean is you’re turning your inheritance into a foster home, where kids will have a bed and eat breakfast.”

She had the grace to blush. “Yes, something like that.”

“Were you trying to hide the truth?” He wasn’t opposed to giving her the benefit of the doubt, but this new friendship might be short-lived if she had a habit of lying.

“No! Really, I wasn’t. You assumed bed-and-breakfast and I didn’t correct you. I never intended to keep it a secret.”

“A foster home is going to raise some eyebrows in this town.” Not that he cared. He wasn’t planning to be here long enough to witness the fallout.

Claire frowned. “Why? My sister, Jordan, and I were in foster care for a while after the first couple who intended to adopt us changed their mind. Foster kids aren’t delinquents, they just aren’t able to live at home for some reason.”

“That may be true, but it’s not people’s perception. Red Hill Springs is a friendly little town, but people are set in their ways.”

She stared at him, unflinching. Then grinned again. “Then I’ll just have to change their mind.” She leaned over the plate and took another big bite of pancakes as she slid out of the booth. “Gotta run. I have to make sure the fence line will keep my horse in.”

Claire walked up to the register, where she chatted with his mom for a few minutes. She stopped back by the table to say, “Don’t forget to bring Amelia out this afternoon. We can talk about rent then, if you like the cabin.”

His eyebrows drew together. “I still don’t get it. You don’t even know me. And I definitely don’t know you.”

“Maybe I have a soft spot for a daughter who never knew her dad.” She tossed the words over her shoulder as she swung the front door open. “Plus, you’re armed and I don’t have a donkey yet.”

Bertie slid a to-go cup of coffee in front of him as the door swung shut behind Claire. “She’s cute and she seems nice.”

His eyes were on Claire as she walked toward her car. “Yeah, maybe.”

“Hopefully, Amelia will eat with you tomorrow.” His mom smiled as she reached for the dirty dishes on the table.

He laughed softly, shaking his head. “Who knows?”

“Well, don’t give up, bud. She reminds me of someone else I knew once who was pretty bullheaded. Besides, you need her.”

It wasn’t until he was on the street walking back to his mom’s house that he realized his mom had said you need her. That was ridiculous. Daughters needed a father, not the other way around.

But there was something there, some restlessness inside that he couldn’t identify. His mom had said God was preparing him for something big. Something risky.

Like moving-across-the-country-to-start-a-foster-home risky?

He curled his fingers into a fist and stretched them out one by one, refusing to wince at the pain that shot up his arm. Sometimes just getting through every day seemed like a risk.