A Father's Promise

He didn’t have to think about the answer at all, although five minutes ago he’d had something far more vengeful in the forefront of his mind. “File for a divorce and get full custody of my kid as soon as possible.”

“Anything else?”

“Raise him to be a better man than his father,” he said grimly, only to add with no small anxiety, “but…I don’t even know where to begin.”

“Take it one step at a time, friend.”

John wanted to nod; instead he gripped the steering wheel. “There’s something else, too. I want to get Dana back.”

Several long, weighted seconds passed. “You’ve never had Dana, John,” came Bud’s reluctant reply. “Not any more than my kid ever possessed that orphan fawn the year we rented that place near your east boundary. Some wounded things can’t learn to trust again after they’ve been damaged.”

Everything Bud said was true, and he should know; he was one of the few in town who understood exactly how rough a childhood Dana had experienced. Frustrated and often left feeling helpless due to his youth, John had used Bud as a sounding board. But that was then. Donnal was long gone and as far as John was concerned, nothing was over until it was over. This conviction strengthened his resolve, was the steel that kept his spine straight.

He felt Bud’s stare for another few seconds and then his friend swore under his breath. “Well then, stop turning my road into a parking lot while I’m standing out here like a drowning fool. You turn that way,” he said, jerking a thumb over his shoulder.

Farm-to-Market Road 5555. Like all the nonexistent telephone numbers on TV shows, this one ricocheted through John’s mind like a UFO streaking for home, triggering memories that were not all good. Not hardly.

“She may not want to see me,” he said, thinking of that last ugly scene between them. It had been the evening before he’d left for the stock sale in Abilene and driven by jealousy and fear, he’d jumped to some terrible conclusions about her and Guy Munroe.

“Probably not,” Bud agreed. “I said she was cautious, not stupid.”

John shot his friend a withering look. “Whose side are you on, anyway?”

“I’m paid to uphold the law for all of my constituents. The fact that deep down I may have hoped you and Dana could have overcome both of your backgrounds and created something special together is beside the point.”

Hearing him speak in the past tense wasn’t reassuring, either. “You don’t believe it’s still possible?”

Bud wrinkled his nose. His dripping glasses inched back up the bridge a bit. “You were always too much for her to handle, my friend. Now there’s two of you Paladins. What do you think? Either way,” he added, angling his head so that the collected rainwater sluiced off the rim of his Stetson, “you keep your temper in check, hear?”

“I never hurt her the way her father did, and I never would.” He knew Bud would understand his dangerously soft tone.

“No man can say what he’d do in a moment of passion, John. Fact is, you never erased the look of wariness in her eyes. Could be you even made it worse. I have seen you lose control enough not to care how badly you upset her. So I’m telling you outright, don’t make me have to choose between you.”

Maybe Bud was within his boundaries to read him the riot act, but that didn’t mean John had to like it. “Go dry off,” he said, shifting into gear again. “You won’t have to worry about any—calls this afternoon. At least not any from her place.”

The lawman straightened and held up his hands in surrender. “Having your word on that makes me feel a lot better. Thanks, J.P…. and good luck.”

As his friend returned to his car, John rolled up his window and turned left onto Dana’s street. Ironically his shaking had stopped, but now the rock he perpetually seemed to carry in his chest suddenly began slamming against his breastbone like a medieval battering ram.

Had he been intending to do this all along? What did that make him—besides a jerk for blowing his chances with her in the first place? He gripped the steering wheel more firmly. How was she going to react? Would he see at least a flash of joy in those beautiful brown eyes of hers?

A soft mewing sound rose from the box.

“We can’t ask for a miracle right off,” he said, his gaze locking on the house. “It may take some time and even more work. She was pretty upset the last time I saw her, but I promise you this, little guy, if there’s a snowball’s chance in, er, never mind. Just trust me. One look at you and she’ll be hooked. I promise you’ll have a momma—the best—before all this is over.”

But he didn’t feel quite so confident as he eyed Dana’s home. He’d hated the small white frame house even more than their former dwelling from the moment he’d heard that she’d planned to buy it for herself and her mother. He’d understood the frustration she’d been experiencing with spending money on rent, but had believed he’d had a better idea. Only she’d rejected it. Rejected him.

The place looked somewhat better now. In the two plus years she’d been living there, she’d planted shrubs and repainted the cottage. The trim was now an attractive country blue instead of the ugly medicinal pink it had been. Nevertheless, John still disliked the house, having always hated anything that gave Dana more independence or responsibility. Both had done their share in keeping them apart.

As he pulled into her driveway, he eyed the sign swaying in the wind. Bookkeeping & Tax Service. Dana had established the business five years ago, right after college. She’d needed a job where she could work from home and still care for her arthritic mother. Since not everyone needed the services of a full-fledged certified public accountant, she’d developed a modest clientele quickly, leaving her with plenty of time to devote to her increasingly incapacitated parent.

After her mother’s death and his subsequent marriage, John had heard that Dana had taken on even more accounts. That could create a problem, he thought, shutting off the truck’s engine.

“Well, first let’s see what kind of reception we get,” he said, releasing the safety belt from around the box. Deciding the baby was better off left inside it, John picked up the box like a hamper of clothes and climbed out of his truck. Then he negotiated the puddles and mounted the front steps.

As he rang the doorbell, he noticed his hand was steadier than ever. Odd, he thought, since he suddenly felt more anxious than any time previously in his life. What if she slammed the door in his face? What if she looked through the peephole and refused to even acknowledge his presence?

He stared into it, willing her not to resist him. The maneuver must have worked because seconds later the door swung open.

“Sorry to keep you waiting, Carl, I was on the—” The apology and the smile of welcome on her face were both cut off abruptly as she saw he wasn’t the person she’d been expecting. The folder she’d begun to pass to him trembled in her hand. Quickly she drew it against her chest like a shield.

“Hello, Dana,” he offered gruffly.

Her stunned gaze went from him to the box, then back up to him, finally turning steely. “You bastard,” she whispered.

It wasn’t, he concluded, the most reassuring of starts.

Chapter Two

Slam the door, Dana told herself. Shut it now, before it’s too late.

She didn’t want to see how awful he looked. She didn’t want to pay attention to what he held in his arms. She didn’t want to let him slip under her defenses again, or make the mistake of letting him know how much the mere sight of him affected her.

“You have your nerve” was all that she could manage.

The comment left him looking even more haunted, more miserable. “I know,” he replied gruffly. “But could I come in and talk to you for a minute?”

Her front stoop offered no protection from the weather, and as furious as she was with John Paladin, Dana knew it would take a heart much harder than hers to keep a newborn infant out in the rain. She wasn’t, however, thrilled with being put in this predicament. Her look mutinous, she stepped back to admit them.

Actually she felt like the weather, gray and dreary. Since she hadn’t been expecting any clients, except Carl Hyatt, who was supposed to pick up his reconciled bank statement, she’d put on the drab, pumice gray tunic and leggings for comfort and warmth, not appearance. On the other hand, she supposed she looked ten times better than the giant dripping all over her entry rug.

Despite the shadow caused by his Stetson and the perpetual tan from endless days in the sun and wind, his strong-featured, wide-planed face was more gaunt than she’d ever seen it. Those dark brown eyes that had troubled more than a few of her dreams now possessed an almost sunken quality, and even his full beard and mustache couldn’t hide the deep lines that bracketed his hard mouth. This wasn’t the face of a thirty-year-old man. What’s more, she was shocked to see the changes in the six-foot-three-inch body that had once made high school and college football coaches rub their hands with glee. In the months since she’d last seen him, he’d turned into a shadow of his former self.

“You look good, Dana.”

“You look like hell,” she muttered, not caring if it did make her sound ungracious. Blast the man, regardless of his reasons for coming here.

“Yeah, well, it’s turning out to be a rough day. A rough year.”

She lifted an eyebrow, determined to retain her dignity, no matter what. “Don’t tell me the honeymoon’s over already?”

“You know there wasn’t any honeymoon.”

“Of course. What could I have been thinking?” she declared, touching her palm to her forehead. “You two had yours before the wedding.”

“There wasn’t any wedding. There was a ceremony to take care of legalities. And to set the record straight once and for all, there wasn’t any love in our marriage, either,” he added, his features resembling a volcano ready to explode. “I told you—”

“Yes, you told me,” Dana said quickly, more concerned with avoiding another barrage of excuses than worrying about his temper. “And I told you when you came over the day you got back from Abilene that I wanted nothing more to do with you. That means you have no business being here now.”

She thought it was a pretty fair declaration of independence under the circumstances…until he shifted his hold on the in his arms and she was forced to take a closer look at what he was carrying his baby in. Suddenly she forgot everything she’d said. “Are you out of your mind? You can’t carry around a child in that thing!”

He shifted, looking decidedly uncomfortable. “Believe me, that’s been pointed out to me already, but it was all I had at the moment. Would you like to meet my son?”

“No.” She backed away a step and clasped her hands behind her. Getting up close and personal with his flesh and blood was the last thing she needed to do. Bad enough her curiosity threatened to drive her crazy.

“Okay, but I need to give him a bit of air.” He looked around as though trying to decide where to put down the box. “Do you mind if I, er…?”

Dana wanted to resist helping him. Unfortunately, this being her house, she didn’t exercise that option. “The couch is fine,” she finally told him.

She couldn’t help feeling resentful. Set up. As far as she was concerned, they’d finished with each other the day before he’d left for Abilene. But when he cast a dubious look at his soggy, muddy boots and then at her rose-colored carpet, she grew even more agitated. “For heaven’s sake, it’s a little late to worry about dirt. Just do it.”

As he crossed over to the green-and-rose print couch by the wall, Dana wrapped her arms around her waist. She wasn’t surprised at having to fight a feeling of emptiness. Since the day she’d heard he’d married, and why, she’d been dreading this moment. Now that it was here, she didn’t know if she could handle it.

His child…She’d known John Paladin from the time she’d been an inexperienced, shy sixteen and he a larger-than-life twenty. Despite efforts to ignore her contradictory feelings for him during a goodly portion of that time, she’d succumbed to more than a few fantasies. Fantasies such as imagining what it would be like to be possessed by him…to conceive a baby with him and carry his child…to share a life with him.

She’d blamed those daydreams—disaster dreams she called them now—along with her tendency toward melancholia on her Irish genes, the same excuse her mother had ascribed to her father’s drinking and temper. These days she knew better; she’d merely been a fool. But she was trying to change! Surprise visits made that darned difficult, though.

As he folded back the blue blanket, she felt her heart in her throat. When he awkwardly lifted the small bundle from the box, she had to force herself to keep breathing. Biting hard on her lower lip, she thought she was doing rather well, all things considered. Then came the pathetic wail.

She shot across the room. “Give him to me. You must be holding him too tight. You never did know your own strength.”

“Except with you,” John murmured, despite seeming willing enough to relinquish hold of the child.

A shiver of awareness raced through Dana, partly because of their closeness as he passed over his boy, and partly because she knew he was right. To a degree. He had tried to be careful with her—as careful as a man of his size and temperament could be—except for the first time they’d met, and the day before he’d left for Abilene. But she didn’t want to think about that now.

“There, there,” she crooned to the tiny bundle that fitted perfectly in the crook of her arm. Struggling not to meet John’s intense gaze for fear that he would see how vulnerable he could still make her feel, she turned away, gently rocking his son. “That’s better, isn’t it?”

“Looks like heaven to me.”

Dana could feel heat creep into her cheeks. No one had ever made her blush as easily or as often as he did. It took all her concentration to ignore him and focus on the child that another woman had borne him.

That was her second mistake of the day.

She fell in love. With her first gaze into the pink, innocent face, she knew she’d lost her heart as easily as she’d once lost it to the man she could feel watching her every move. Pain gripped her throat and throbbed in her chest.

So beautiful. So perfectly beautiful.

He was a miniature of his father, with the same steady, luminous brown eyes, the same shock of chestnut hair, the same bold features and stubborn chin. It wasn’t fair.

“What do you think?”

Dana resented the question as much as she did his presence. She knew what it invited, entreated, and she didn’t want to yield. At the same time, she couldn’t help touching the pad of her index finger to the baby’s chin. “You’re very lucky.”

“I’m not so sure, but thanks. He looks right in your arms, though.”

Disturbed and annoyed, she wanted to show him the door that very instant. Instead she turned away, shaking her head. “I can’t believe your…audacity bringing your child here when he should be home with his mother.”

“It’s not audacity, Dana, it’s desperation.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“That you’re right. He should be home with his mother. The problem is she isn’t there.”

Sensing more than fatigue and unhappiness in him, Dana tensed even more. “What’s wrong? What’s happened?”

“Celene left me.”

She fought an automatic tug of pity…and won. “Sounds like a smart lady, after all.”

He winced. “Don’t. I don’t deserve that. Regardless of what you think of me, I want you to know that I tried my best. I took responsibility for what I did. Really tried to make it easy for her.” He took off his hat and ran his hand through his hair. “I should have known she wouldn’t be able to stick to her side of the bargain. The isolation, the boredom of routine at the ranch…it was all too much. But our arrangement was never meant to be permanent, anyway.”

She didn’t want to hear his lies again. She couldn’t.

“She never wanted the baby. I did. Figuring the way things were going, he’d be the only—Anyway, we made a pact. She agreed to stay until he was old enough not to rely on her so much.”

Resisting another flutter of sympathy, and more, she scowled. “That’s a good one. Your child can be twenty-one and still need you.” She couldn’t believe such cold-blooded negotiating, yet her curiosity got the best of her. “When did she leave?”

“Between the time I drove out this morning and when I came back to the house for lunch.” He dropped his gaze to his son. “The baby was screaming, the house was chilly, and she was gone.”

“Didn’t Durango see or hear anything from the bunkhouse?” Dana asked, trying to fathom his getting involved with such a woman. Who would leave a precious infant like this for any length of time, let alone abandon him?

“No. Between preparing lunch and taking calls for me, he says he must have missed her. It didn’t help that he has his TV too loud. But I’ve given up arguing with him about it. He’s not happy if he can’t watch his talk shows, and I can’t risk him walking out on me. Good help’s harder to find than ever these days.” With a sigh he reached into his open jacket. “She left me a note.”

Dana stepped back again as though he were reaching for a gun. “Don’t you dare read it to me. It’s none of my concern. What’s more, I’m not interested.”

“She’s calling it quits,” he continued, ignoring her protests. “She says she’s done her part and wants to get back to her life.”

How could she do that? “A woman doesn’t walk away from her own flesh and blood.” Dana thought of her own mother, who’d had decades of reasons to leave her father, but never did.

“Apparently some women can,” John said, breaking into her brooding. His massive chest rose and fell on a deep breath. “I drove into town hoping I might spot her. When that didn’t happen, I thought I could put him up at the hospital for a day or so until I tracked her down and arranged for things to be settled legally. Instead they kicked me out. Said they weren’t a nursery or a hotel.”

“At least somebody’s still thinking clearly. You can’t both abandon the child, Paladin. What were you thinking?”

“The truth? For a while, only that I wanted to wring her neck,” he growled, clenching his hands so much that the one holding his hat twisted the felt rim.

“Oh, typical,” Dana snapped. Comments like that proved a leopard could never change its spots. This was precisely why she’d told him, kept telling him, they could never have a future together. “That would have fixed everything. She’d either be dead or in a hospital, and you’d be in jail. You were really thinking about your son, weren’t you?”

“I wanted to track her down and make her sign a paper, something before witnesses, before she disappears and complicates things for who knows how long. She was in such a danged-fire hurry she didn’t think of that. Or else she didn’t care,” he added, with a sweep of his hat that spoke volumes of his frustration. “And now Bud’s telling me that if I step one foot out of the county, he’ll throw my butt in jail and put my boy into a foster home, citing abandonment.”

That sounded like extremely tough talk coming from Bud, but Dana knew the sheriff was only trying to save John from a bigger mistake. He was a better friend than John gave him credit for—or deserved. “At least someone around here is using common sense.”

“I need to finish this, Dana. Once and for all.”

“No doubt you will. What remains a mystery is why come to me—Merciful Mary, no.” She looked from him down to his child, and back again. “No, no, no. Slick try, but no way, Paladin.”

He took a step toward her. “I need help.”

“Then hire someone.”

“I’m particular.”

“Since when?”

A muscle twitched in his left cheek. “Low blow.”

“Get used to it. I’ve got plenty more where that came from.”

The baby uttered a pitiful complaint, and rightfully so, she thought, feeling immediately guilty. She was standing as stiff as a block of concrete. Poor innocent had to be picking up on that.

Although she tried to relax, Dana demanded tensely, “That can’t be why you came here.” There was no sense in beating around the bush. It was getting them nowhere and she needed to know what was going on—what he thought he was up to now. “What do you want?”

“What will you let me have?”

She felt as if he’d snatched the floor out from under her, and she was falling, falling. In sheer self-defense, she spun away from him and retreated to the front window. Not having to look at him made things easier, but there was no way to block out his presence entirely. John Paladin filled a room like no one ever had, and that made him impossible to ignore. It had always been that way for her, since the day she’d arrived in town, an anxious sixteen-year-old, whose bully of a father had just been hired as the town’s chief of police.

After arguing over some traffic violation, John had burst out of her father’s office as she’d been entering. The force had sent her toppling backward to the floor. He’d been quick to apologize and help her back to her feet, the concern and regret in his eyes obvious—as had been his interest.

Her father had abruptly put an end to that meeting, but John had been waiting for her later, down the street. Apologizing again, he’d asked her for a date. Mesmerized by his rough good looks, but intimidated by his size and strength—characteristics that she’d come to fear—she’d explained with a strange mixture of relief and disappointment that her father forbade her to date until she turned eighteen. She’d soon learned, however, that John Paladin was a determined man. Once he’d decided he wanted something, he became totally focused on getting it. No one and nothing was allowed to step in his way. And John had decided he wanted her.

“We can’t go back,” she said, watching the downpour.

He stepped up behind her. “I don’t want to go back. I want to go forward.”

“I don’t think that’s possible. You know I didn’t believe we had a chance from the beginning. And now—”

“Dana, don’t say it.” He touched her hair, her shoulder, and hesitantly, awkwardly stroked her back. “I know I messed things up badly.”

She stiffened and laughed without humor. “You mean you destroyed any trust I’d had in you.”

“No!” He spun her around. “No matter what you think, I don’t—I won’t believe that’s all gone.”

Although his intense demeanor and physical contact made her feel as though a tidal wave was threatening to sweep her away, Dana willed herself to stand firm. “It’s true. You destroyed whatever belief I’d had in you.”

“One moment of lost control. And it was your fault.”

“Mine!” She immediately winced because her fury had upset the baby again. Quickly rocking him to quiet the soft whimpers, she shot John a bitter look and whispered, “I can’t believe you said that.”

“Think about it. If you hadn’t said you’d go to Fort Worth with Guy Monroe, I would never have lost my head the way I did.”

“I told you, we were sharing car expenses to attend a business seminar. Since we were both going, it made perfect sense. But you couldn’t see that, not you. Your mind went straight into the gutter and stayed there.”

“The man’s married and has three kids. It wouldn’t have looked right.”

“His wife trusted—no, trusts him.”

“Did you ask her or was that something he’s told you? For crying out loud, Dana, I know your father kept a tight rein on your life, but he’s gone, and you were twenty-five. How could you be so damned naive about people? Monroe has had several affairs that his wife’s chosen not to acknowledge for her children’s sake. Any fool could see he’d targeted you for his next conquest.”

Dana’s mouth fell open. “That’s not true.”

“You want names?” he retaliated, his hands on his hips.

She shook her head, not only because she didn’t want to know, but because she didn’t want to feel the doubts she was experiencing about Guy. They weren’t close friends, but she liked the chamber of commerce president, despite the embarrassment of John’s interference that had made her stay home that fateful weekend. She still spoke to Guy several times a month and he’d sent her some of her most valuable clients. “Why didn’t you tell me this before?”