Читать книгу From Duty to Daddy - Sue MacKay - Страница 8

CHARLIE LANG FOLDED her laptop shut and put it aside on the outdoor lounger she sat on, but continued to stare at the blasted thing as though it was to blame for all of her problems. Angst at her continued failure ate deep inside. ‘I’m never going to find him, am I?’

Dad sat back on his haunches at the edge of the over-grown flowerbed he was weeding below where she sat. ‘Aimee’s father? Who knows, love? You’ve got so little to go on.’

Make that next to nothing. ‘How many doctors are there in the US army called Marshall Hunter?’ Her head spun with the frustration of it all, whizzing the ever-present fear into a maelstrom in the pit of her stomach. ‘I must’ve sent hundreds of emails.’

‘I take it the latest one bounced.’

‘Yep.’ Like every one before it. ‘Why did he give me that address if he intended shutting it down?’ Why had Marshall given her an address at all when he’d gone to great lengths to ensure she’d understood there couldn’t be any contact between them after their fling finished?

On that last day, when he’d been heading back to war and she would shortly return to New Zealand, had he felt a sense of losing something special? She’d certainly been gripped by an awareness of impending loss. Had he suddenly found it impossible to walk away without some way of reaching her again? His note with the email address had been slipped into her shirt pocket while she’d been too busy kissing him goodbye and trying desperately not to cry. Trying to ignore the heat flaring through her body that one touch from Marshall had instantly triggered. Had always triggered—right from the get-go.

But he must’ve had another change of heart after he’d left Honolulu because not once had an email of hers got through to him. Fickle? Doubtful. Unsure of himself? Definitely not. Marshall had to be the most self-assured man she’d ever come across. Except when she’d asked about his family. Uncertainty had filtered into his steady green gaze then, only to be hurriedly blinked away and replaced with a cold, distant glare.

She’d understood instantly that to remain onside with him meant talk of his family was banned. Naturally, living with the outcome of that fling, she often wondered what he’d been hiding. Not that that was important right now. Only finding him was.

‘Ever thought that the guy doesn’t want to be found?’ Dad never minced his words when he wanted to make a point.

‘If I’m honest, it’s blatantly obvious that’s exactly what Marshall intended. In this day and age everyone puts their name, photo, even excruciatingly personal details out there in cyberspace so they can be found.’ Everyone except Marshall Hunter. Which kind of told her what she’d been avoiding all along.

He really hadn’t had any intention of ever having anything to do with her again—even in passing. That note had been an aberration she could put down to the emotional goodbye they’d been going through. Each kiss had been their last, only to be followed by another, and another, until Marshall’s friend had hauled him away and into an army truck.

She’d stood, fingers pressing his kisses deep into her swollen lips, trying to keep Marshall’s touch, his scent with her. Swallowing buckets of tears as the truck had disappeared round a corner, taking Marshall away forever.

Dad broke into her memories. ‘Maybe you should drop your search.’ He’d been sceptical right from the start about the man who’d got his daughter pregnant. Fair enough, she supposed. Fathers expected every man coming within reach of their girls to treat them carefully.

But what Dad wouldn’t concede was that Marshall didn’t have a clue she’d had his child, wouldn’t believe that Marshall was a good man at heart. Of course, Dad hadn’t met him.

She knew different. Or so she told herself regularly. ‘No, I refuse to contemplate that.’ Marshall had affected her deeply the very first time she’d laid eyes on him in the ED at the hospital in Honolulu where she had been doing post-grad work. His intense gaze had locked with hers and they’d both stepped closer as he’d teased her about her accent. When he’d smiled at her she’d felt as though she’d found something, someone she’d been unwittingly looking for all her life.

At the end of their shift he’d taken her hand and led her out of the department, out of the hospital and along the road to the beach. Walking barefoot in the warm sand, the waves crashing only metres away, her hand firmly held by Marshall’s much larger and stronger one and her shoulder brushing his arm, she’d thought she’d died and gone to heaven.

And in the warm air, with laughter and chatter spilling out from the restaurants dotting the foreshore, he’d taken her in his arms and kissed her so thoroughly her body had melted. She’d held onto him like he was a lifeline. Her body had wanted his, craved the release she’d known he, and only he, could bring her. Every nerve ending had desired his touch. Every muscle had trembled with anticipation.

Then he’d swung her up into his arms and run up the sand, across the road and into the first hotel they’d come to. She had always wondered what might’ve happened if a room hadn’t been available. There’d been no way they could’ve made it all the way to the tawdry apartment block where the hospital provided rooms for temporary doctors before they gave in to the pulsing heat gripping them.

Their affair had started that night in a burst of passion that had been insatiable. It ended as abruptly two weeks later when Marshall had been sent away to some unknown place with his army troop.

She’d missed him ever since, as though he’d taken a chunk from her heart with him. Damn it. That hadn’t been part of the deal. Neither had coming home pregnant.

‘I wouldn’t be looking for him if not for Aimee.’ Yeah, sure. Her pride would’ve prevented her chasing after him like some lovelorn teenager. Did she love him? She’d enjoyed him and the things they’d got up to in bed. But love him? Unfortunately she had a feeling she did. Otherwise why else did she still dream of him most nights? What other reason was there for daydreaming about him moving here and sharing her home? Maybe marrying her?

Reaching for the laptop, she opened it and waited for her program to reboot. Reality sucked. And hurt. Her love wouldn’t ever be returned, and yet it was vitally important she track him down. For Aimee’s sake, at least. ‘I always knew there was no future for us.’

Dad gave her one of his ‘This is your father talking’ looks that she’d known all her life. It would lead into something she should probably take note of. Except she was an adult now, didn’t need her father’s wisdom. Much.

‘Why don’t you stop trying to find this guy for a while? Save your energy for getting completely well again and then maybe it won’t be essential for Aimee to have her dad here.’ He tried to hide the quiver of fear colouring his voice but she knew him too well.

Staring at her dad, holding onto the surge of her own fear, she ground out, ‘I have to find him. Aimee deserves a father, even if only a remote one.’ Would Marshall be thrilled or furious when he finally learned her news? There was only one way to find out and so far that hadn’t gone too well.

‘You’ve put too much time and effort into this for most of the past year. Let it go for a while. Put it out there and see what comes back.’

‘Dad? Put it out there?’ Despite everything, a giggle spilled across her lips. ‘Where did you get that idea?’

Dad’s cheeks coloured. ‘From your pal, Gemma.’

‘That’s typical of Gemma, but I never thought I’d hear you say it.’ Gemma and Dad? Had she missed something? Gemma often dropped by on the pretext of seeing her and Aimee but what if her older friend’s real interest was Dad? How did that make her feel? No blinding pangs of anger or disappointment struck. Surely that had to tell her something?

‘Charlie,’ Dad called loudly to get her attention back. ‘What I’m saying is there are other things you could be doing with your time rather than getting obsessed about something you’ve got no control over.’

She sat back in the lounger and stared at the laptop screen. Her finger hovered over the pad, ready to open the internet link. Could she stop searching? For a while at least? Take a break from the heart-wrenching negativity that failure to find Marshall regularly dumped on her when she already had enough to deal with?

It wouldn’t be easy when finding Marshall had dominated her thoughts for what seemed like for ever. This campaign had driven her to get up in the mornings when her body ached so badly she wanted to swallow pills and dive back into sleep to avoid the real world.

Doing what Dad had suggested might free her. Enable her to see the situation for what it was. She was a solo mother whose first priority was her daughter. Aimee needed her healthy and focused, not slumbering in self-pity and trying to do the impossible.

She closed down the laptop. Then she looked at her father, really looked, and saw the extra lines on his face, there because of her. Her chest swelled with love. ‘Okay, Dad, here’s the deal. I’ll …’ she emphasised her words by flicking her forefingers in the air ‘… put finding Marshall out there if you start focusing on getting your old life back. I don’t mean working longer hours at the medical centre. I’m talking fishing, hiking in the mountains, meeting your pals for a round of golf.’ Pausing, she watched the longing flick through his eyes so fast he probably thought he’d got away with it. She really had wrecked his life since coming home from Honolulu. Sticking her tongue in her cheek, she added, ‘Did I mention dating? Definitely need to find time for that.’ Should she bring Gemma’s name into it? No, best leave that to Dad to sort out. For now anyway. She could give him a prod later if necessary.

‘Dating?’ he snorted. ‘Me? At my age? You’ve been taking too many painkillers again.’

‘Yeah, Dad, you. At your ripe old age of fifty-nine.’ Thankfully right then a sound came from inside the house. Charlie usually heard her daughter crying almost before Aimee opened her mouth. Motherhood was so connected. As though a fine but strong strand of love ran between them so that deep inside she felt everything Aimee did.

‘There goes my peace and quiet.’ Charlie smiled, completely unfazed by the interruption.

Despite helping other women bring their babies into the world during her medical training, the overpowering strength of her love for one special little individual placed into her arms moments after the birth had been a revelation. And something Marshall had missed out on.

Her father chuckled as he returned to weeding the flowerbed beneath a pohutukawa tree. Obviously not too fazed by the dating suggestion, then. ‘Go on with you. You’ve been waiting for Aimee to wake up for the last hour.’

‘True.’ Driven by a sense of panic, of time running away on her and not knowing how long she’d be around for Aimee, she desperately wanted to grab every minute she could with her little girl. That same panic caused her to pause now. Was she forcing too much on Aimee? Rushing her through life instead of letting her learn to wait? To take each day, each little step slowly?

‘You should let her cry for a bit.’ Dad unwittingly underlined her thoughts. Sitting back on his haunches, he winked to take the edge off his comment. ‘Never hurt you to wait for your mother to come and get you at that age.’

Charlie laughed, and deliberately refrained from standing up, even though she itched to do so. ‘Maybe that’s why I used to hate lying around in bed once I woke up.’

‘Nah, that was because you were too active for your own good.’

‘I got that from you. Aimee’s the same. Guess it’s in the Lang genes.’ A yawn rolled up her throat and over her lips. It had been a long time since she’d been anything like too active. So long she’d forgotten how it felt to have abundant energy, not to need to go to bed till well after midnight.

When she’d finally gone back to work at the Taupo Family Medical Centre after her illness she’d truly believed she was ready for anything and everything, but her days off couldn’t come round soon enough so she could catch up on sleep. Not easy to do around a toddler with the energy of a trailer load of Energiser batteries.

‘Want me to get Aimee?’ Worry tainted Dad’s voice, adding to her sense of inadequacy. Not to mention her guilt for letting him see that yawn.

She tried for a grin, didn’t do too bad a job. ‘I’m making her wait, like you said.’

Dad grinned right back. ‘Look at you. Almost bouncing in the seat with wanting to go pick her up.’

He did way too much for her. It broke her heart, knowing that when he’d decided to take early retirement so he could start having some fun she’d messed up his plans. Not that she’d asked him to cancel the big trip to Europe he’d looked forward to for years. But being the awesome father he was there’d been no question of what he’d do when they’d learned her dreadful news. He had stepped up for her all her life. More especially after Mum had died. And now he did the same for Aimee.

Would she be half the parent he was? Some days that worried her sick. On the really bleak ones it frightened her to think she mightn’t get the chance to find out.

Aimee had evoked something primal within her. Like flicking a switch, bang, the love had turned on. Never to be turned off. A deep, unconditional love that had fine-tuned Charlie’s protective instincts, while also bringing so much joy to her life. She couldn’t wait for the years ahead to unfold. Already she watched with avarice as Aimee learned to feed herself, to stagger up onto her own feet and totter around the house, to give sticky hugs with those little arms—it all gave her so much pleasure. There’d be plenty more great things to come. She just knew it.

Wearing her Pollyanna hat? Definitely, though she wasn’t so naive as to think her daughter was going to be perfect. Actually, perfection was a fault in itself. Not so long ago she’d believed her life couldn’t get any better and look how that had blown up in her face. She was still recovering, might never return to the peaceful state of mind she’d innocently thought was hers for ever.

She shivered, rubbed her arms. Forced a smile. Pollyanna had quickly disappeared. The black worry that lurked at the edge of her mind expelled her happy moments all too quickly. Would that change one day? One day soon?

‘Charlie?’ Concern laced her dad’s voice. ‘You okay?’ With a lightness she didn’t feel she replied, ‘Sure am.’

Another cry from down the hall. This time Charlie didn’t hesitate. Jumping up, she headed for the door. ‘Yippee. Get up time. I want that first sleep-scented snuggle from Aimee.’

‘Okay.’ Dad conceded quickly enough. ‘Now that my grandgirl’s awake, I’ll get the hedge trimmer out and tidy up out the back.’

Charlie paused, turned back. ‘Dad, why don’t you go play a round of golf instead? The hedge can wait another few days. Take a break from the chores and enjoy yourself.’ Those lines around his mouth hadn’t been there a year ago. They were all due to her. Guilt spread through her like wildfire. ‘I’m so sorry.’

His face softened as he crossed to stomp up the steps to the deck, where he hugged her. His tone was gruff. ‘Cut that out, Charlotte Lang. There’s no point beating yourself up for something you had no say over.’

Sniffing in the dad scent she’d known her whole life, she blinked back tears and dredged up a smile. ‘Have I told you that you’re the best father ever?’ The familiar line fell easily between them.

‘Never.’ That too was the usual response. ‘Tomorrow, if the weather stays fine, I’ll take the boat out on the lake with Billy to do a spot of fishing. How’s that?’

That was progress. ‘Great. I’ll order up a perfect January day just for you. And I’ll get the barbecue ready.’ Of course the trout weren’t so easy to catch in midsummer but the men would have fun trying. At least trolling meant a bigger chance of success than river fishing. And she’d get in steak as a back-up.

Yeah, she had a plan. Plans were good, kept her on track through the rough patches. Then it dawned on her to look around, see the day for what it was. The sun shone bright and hot in the clear blue sky, making everything appear brand new and the flowers on the pohutukawa sharp red. And her tiredness wasn’t dominating her quite so much. In fact, she felt the best she had in a long time.

She surprised herself with, ‘I’m going to start getting fit. Take my bike out of the shed and pump up the tyres.’ She grinned, feeling the most relaxed she had for a long time. ‘That will probably take all my energy and I’ll have to have a nap afterwards, but it’s a start.’

Until the advent of Aimee she’d loved nothing better than to fall out of bed and hit the road on her cycle before going into work. And on her days off most of her spare time had been spent sailing her Paper Tiger across Lake Taupo, catching the erratic winds.

‘Don’t overdo it,’ said the doctor in her dad as he stepped away, averting his face in a vain attempt to hide his worry.

‘As if.’ Nowadays she took naps and spent her free time playing with dolls and building things out of plastic blocks with Aimee.

How drastically her life had changed since she’d returned home pregnant. She rubbed her tummy. Felt the surgical scar on her lower abdomen. Tried to ignore the flare of anguish. At least she’d had a child before her hysterectomy. She’d loved being pregnant and watching all the changes that had happened to her body. The months had flown past and then Aimee had arrived and she was in love.

Unfortunately, someone else had missed out on all that. Aimee’s father. Marshall Hunter, US Army medic.

If only he’d been able to share in the excitement, to be around to put his hand against her expanding belly and feel his daughter kick. Even if she found him tomorrow, he’d never get any of that back. Aimee was eighteen months old and nothing like the tiny scrap of arms and legs placed against her breast moments after the birth.

How stupid of she and Marshall to agree to going their separate ways at the end of their fling. Despite her heart breaking, she’d gone along with him. He’d assured her he was single, that they weren’t hurting anyone else, but he didn’t do long-term relationships. Rightly or wrongly, she’d believed him. He’d come across as genuine. But no one had told her she’d have a child from that liaison. There’d been no thunderclaps to warn her she’d need Marshall Hunter back in her life nine months later.

Had Marshall flown to the moon? Even if he had, he’d still be contactable. Wouldn’t he?

Well, she could be stubborn if it was important. And finding her daughter’s father ranked at the top of the scale. But as of today she wasn’t going to let the continual failure to achieve her goal get her down. She’d done with all that. It was time to start living full on, not half pie.

A louder shriek from down the hall told her Aimee was fed up with waiting. She wanted out of her cot—now. Being a determined little lady—wonder where that had come from?—she would quite likely attempt climbing out of her cot soon. Charlie moved fast. A broken head would only add to the worries this little household already faced.

‘Hey, beautiful, how’s my girl? Have a good sleep?’ Reaching for Aimee, Charlie’s heart squeezed at the sight of the little creases made by the pillow on the side of her baby’s face, and at the red cheeks and sleep-filled green eyes staring out at her over the edge of the cot. So like Aimee’s father’s eyes. Piercing green, reminding her of a polished emerald.

Aimee’s father. MIA. She shuddered. Wrong term. She might be doing everything in her power to find him, but MIA? That was definitely tempting fate. Especially if he was back in another war zone with his unit. She touched the side of the cot with her fingers for luck, definitely needing to push away that cloud of dread.

‘Mum-mum,’ Aimee instantly gurgled, and raised her arms high. ‘Mum-mum.’

Thoughts of Marshall kept trekking through Charlie’s head as she lifted her daughter up. She couldn’t really imagine anything happening to him. ‘Your dad is so virile, so much larger than life, strong and full on. He looks the world in the eye, as though daring it to throw the worst at him.’ He always acted as though nothing could touch him.

Stupid Charlie. Trying to get the man hurt now?

‘Mum-mum.’

‘Time you learnt a new word. How about Grandpa?’

How about Daddy? If only there was a need for that.

Aimee wriggled and tightened her arms around Charlie’s neck, almost choking her.

Carefully unravelling them, Charlie grinned. ‘You’ve got a very wet bottom, my girl.’ She kissed Aimee’s brow and headed for the bathroom.

Blowing kisses on Aimee’s tummy took up a few minutes. Giggles rent the air and made Charlie grin more widely. ‘You’re worth it all, my girl. I’d go through everything again if I had to.’

Careful, you might have to yet. No guarantees out there.

The dark thought lifted goose-bumps on her skin. It was this fear that kept her acting on the side of caution, kept her refusing to relax and accept she was over the worst so that she could get on with life, and that drove her to keep trying to find Marshall despite the unlikelihood of ever succeeding in that quest.

‘Mum, up.’ Aimee’s well-aimed foot banged against her jaw, making her jerk back, and refocused her on where her mind should be. On her daughter.

‘Hey, mischief, watch who you’re kicking.’ Yep, definitely an active kid.

Her baby girl, whom she’d do absolutely anything for. Along with Marshall’s green gaze Aimee had inherited a whole dose of stubbornness from him. Otherwise she was her mum with the dark blonde hair, button nose and freckles dotting her cheeks.

‘One day, my girl, we’re going to find your dad. Won’t he be surprised?’ Surprise might not cut it. There was a myriad of other emotions Marshall would no doubt feel when he learned he was father to this gorgeous bundle of joy. Hopefully love would eventually come out on top.

But first she’d get her strength back. She sighed.

Nothing was easy these days. Hadn’t been since the day the lab results had come back with all the medical jargon screaming out at her: cervical cancer.

Charlie’s world had instantly imploded. The future, in particular Aimee’s future, had become a priority in case the worst happened and Aimee lost her mum. Fear had driven Charlie throughout her surgery and treatment, had got her back on her feet. Losing her mother to cancer at seven had been dreadful, but she’d had her dad to love and cherish her. If Aimee lost her to this terrible disease then she’d need Marshall in her life.

He was out there. He’d held her in his arms, made love to her a lot, kissed her senseless. He hadn’t been an apparition.

Oh, no. Not at all. Her fingertips traced her lips. Her insides melted as her skin remembered his large hands caressing, teasing, loving her body.

Aimee needed to know both her parents. And … Charlie’s fingers brushed the bathroom cabinet … if the worst came to the worst, Marshall had to be there for Aimee if she couldn’t be.

If only she could find him.

She had to. No argument.