Reluctant Father

“Okay.” She ran to the other racks and started looking through them.

“Is it normal for them to be so clothes conscious at this age?” Blake asked, turning his attention to Meredith.

“I don’t know,” she said uncomfortably. His unblinking green-eyed gaze was making her remember too much pain. “I haven’t been around children very much. I must go….”

He touched her arm, and was astonished to find that she jerked away from his touch and stared fully at him with eyes that burned with resentment and pain and anger.

“So, you haven’t forgotten,” he said under his breath.

“Did you really think I ever would?” she asked on a shaky laugh. “You were the reason I never came back here. I almost didn’t come this time, either, but I was tired of hiding.”

He didn’t know what to say. Her reaction was unexpected. He’d imagined that she might have some bitterness, but not this much. He searched what he could see of her face, looking for something he knew he wasn’t going to find anymore.

“You’ve changed,” he said quietly.

Her eyes looked up into his, and there was a flash of cold anger there. “Oh, yes, I’ve changed. I’ve grown up. That should reassure you. I won’t be chasing after you like a lovesick puppy this time.”

The reference stung, and she’d meant it to. He’d accused her of chasing him and more, after the reading of the will.

But being reminded of the past only made him bitter, and he hit back. “Thank God,” he said with a mocking smile. “Could I have that in writing?”

“Go to hell,” she said under her breath.

That, coming from shy little Meredith, floored him. He didn’t even have a comeback.

Sarah came running up with an armload of things. “Look, aren’t they pretty! Can I have them all?” she asked the scowling man beside Meredith.

“Sure,” he said absently.

Meredith turned away from him, smiling. It was the first time in memory that she’d ever fought back—or for that matter, said anything to him that wasn’t respectful and worshipful. What a delightful surprise to find he no longer intimidated her.

“Ready to go?” Meredith asked Elissa.

“Sure am. See you, Blake!”

“But you can’t go.” Sarah ran to Meredith and caught her skirt. “You’re my friend.”

The child couldn’t know how that hurt—to have Blake’s child, the child she might have borne him, cling to her. She knelt in front of Sarah, disengaging the small hand. “I have to go now. But I’ll see you again, Sarah. Okay?”

Sarah looked lost. “You’re nice. Nobody else smiles at me.”

“Mrs. Jackson will smile at you tonight, I promise,” Blake told the child. “Or she’ll never smile again,” he added under his breath.

“You don’t smile,” Sarah accused him.

“My face would break,” he assured her. “Now get your things and we’ll go home.”

She sighed. “Okay.” She looked up at Meredith. “Will you come to see me?”

Meredith went white. Go into that house again, where Blake had humiliated and hurt her? God forbid!

“You can come to see Danielle, Sarah,” Elissa interrupted, and Meredith knew then that Elissa had heard the whole story from King. She was running interference, bless her.

“Who’s Dan—Danielle?” Sarah asked.

“My daughter. She’s four.”

“I’m almost four,” Sarah said. “Can she say nursery rhymes? I know all of them. ‘Humpty Dumpty sat on the wall, Humpty Dumpty—’”

“I’ll give your Daddy a call and he can bring you down to Bess’s house, where Meredith is staying. Bess is my sister-in-law, and Danielle and I go to see her sometimes.”

“I’d like to have a friend,” Sarah agreed. “Could we do that?” she asked her father.

Blake was watching Meredith shift uncomfortably. “Sure we can,” he said, just to irritate her.

Meredith turned away, her heart going like an overwound watch, her eyes restless and frightened. The very last thing she wanted was to have to cope with Blake.

“Bye, Merry!” Sarah called.

“Goodbye, Sarah Jane,” she murmured, and forced a smile, but she wouldn’t look at Blake.

He said the appropriate things as Elissa followed Meredith out the door, but the fact that Meredith wouldn’t look at him cut like a knife.

He watched Meredith climb in under the wheel of the red Porsche. It didn’t seem like the kind of car she’d drive, but she wasn’t the girl she’d been. His eyes narrowed. He wondered if she was still as innocent as before, or if some man had taught her all the sweet ways to make love. His face hardened at the thought. No one had touched her until he had. But he’d been rough and he’d frightened her. He hadn’t really meant to. The feel and taste of her had knocked him off balance, and at the time he hadn’t been experienced himself. Nina had been his first woman, but his first real intimacy, even if it had been relatively chaste, had been with Meredith. Even after all the years in between, he could feel her mouth, taste its sweetness. He could see the soft alabaster of her breasts when he’d unbuttoned the top of her dress. He groaned silently. That was when he’d lost his senses—seeing her like that. He wondered if she knew how green he’d been in those days, and decided that she was too inexperienced herself to realize it. He’d wanted Meredith to the point of madness, and things had just gotten out of hand. But to a shy young virgin, his ardor must have seemed frightening.

He turned back to his daughter with memories of the past darkening his eyes. It seemed so long ago that the rain had found him in the stable and Meredith had come in looking for his uncle….

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