A Hickory Ridge Christmas. Dana Corbit

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СКАЧАТЬ Christmas tree he’d first glimpsed through the front window radiated warmth, as well, with its homemade ornaments, popcorn strands and spatter of silvery icicles. No hand-blown glass balls and fussy velvet bows for Hannah’s apartment.

      The woman herself looked as warm and casual as her house, dressed in well-worn jeans and a black long-sleeved top. She had fuzzy slippers on her feet. But her expression showed she was anything but comfortable with him in her space, and she looked as if she’d been crying.

      “Yes, we like it.”

      We? The smile that had formed on his face slipped away as he turned to her. What had he missed? Hannah took a few steps into the living room and motioned for Todd to follow.

      There in the corner that he couldn’t see from the front door was a tiny blond girl, surrounded by baby dolls, blankets and play bottles. For several seconds, Todd stared at the child who was looking back at him with huge, haunting eyes. She looked familiar somehow.

      “Come here, honey,” Hannah called to the child. When the little girl stood under her protective arm, Hannah turned back to face him.

      “Todd, this is Rebecca. She’s my daughter.”

      Daughter? Hannah had a daughter? He looked back and forth between them, his thoughts spinning. Though their features were slightly different, they both had lovely peachy skin and light, light hair. They were clearly relatives.

      When he glanced away to collect his thoughts, his gaze landed again on the amazing photos dotting the walls on either side of the Christmas tree. The subjects of those photos, taken in a variety of natural backdrops, weren’t children, but rather one child—the same sweet-looking little girl standing right in front of him.

      Clearing his throat, he turned back to them. “Nice pictures.”

      “Thanks.”

      “The photographer did a great job.”

      She nodded but didn’t look at the portraits. Instead, she turned to her daughter. “Rebecca, this is Mr. McBride.”

      “Hi,” she said quickly before taking refuge behind her mother’s jeans-clad leg.

      “Hello, Rebecca.”

      Todd shook his head, trying to reconcile the new information. Parts of this puzzle weren’t fitting together easily. Was Hannah married now? Was that what Andrew had been trying to tell him when he’d suggested that healing the relationship might not be easy? If that was it, how could the minister have been so cruel as to let him go on believing…hoping?

      His gaze fell to Hannah’s left hand, the one she was using to lead the child back to her toys and out of earshot of their conversation.

      Hannah wore no ring.

      Suddenly all of Todd’s other questions fell away as one pressed to the forefront of his mind: a question too personal for him to ask. Still, when she returned to him, he took hold of her arm and led her around the corner to the entry so he could ask it.

      “Who’s her father, Hannah?”

      She shot a glance back at her daughter, as if she worried Rebecca had overheard. He couldn’t blame her if she shouted, “How dare you” for the private question and more. He deserved it.

      But instead of yelling, she began in a soft tone. “You have to understand—”

      “Who is it?” He couldn’t help it. He didn’t want an explanation; he wanted a name. Jealousy he had no right to feel swelled inside him, burning and destroying. The thought of another man touching her left his heart raw. If only he and Hannah had waited, their story might have turned out differently. Hannah might have been his wife. Her child, theirs.

      Hannah stared back at him incredulously, as if she was shocked that he’d had the gall to ask. It wasn’t about wanting; he had to know.

      “Is it that blond guy from church?”

      “Grant?” Her eyes widened and then she shook her head. “He’s just a friend.”

      “Do I know him then?”

      “Of course you do.” She spat the words.

      Strange, she sounded exasperated. She seemed to think he was an idiot for not knowing the answer. He stepped around the corner and studied the child again. She was so fair and beautiful, just like her mother. Rebecca must have sensed his attention on her because she looked up from her dolls and smiled at him.

      And he knew.

      His gut clenched, and he felt helpless to do anything but stare. Why it wasn’t immediately apparent to him he couldn’t imagine now. Her green eyes had looked familiar because he saw eyes like those in the mirror every morning.

      Though he was no expert on children’s ages and this particular child was probably small for her age, as her mother had been, he could see from her features that she wasn’t a toddler. Rebecca looked about four years old, just old enough to have been conceived five years before.

      “She’s mine, isn’t she?”

      Hannah didn’t answer, but her eyes filled and a few tears escaped to trail down her cheeks. She brushed them away with the backs of her hands.

      “Tell me I’m right, Hannah. Am I Rebecca’s father?”

      Instead of nodding the way he was certain she would, Hannah shook her head. Her jaw flexed as if she was gritting her teeth.

      “How could you have thought—” She stopped whatever she’d been about to say. Closing her eyes, she pressed her hands over her closed lids and took a few deep breaths before continuing. “If you’re asking if you supplied half of her DNA, then you’re right. But for her whole life, I’ve been both parents to Rebecca. She’s mine. Just mine.”

      “Not just yours. She’s mine, too.”

      Todd wasn’t sure whether he’d spoken those words aloud or just in the privacy of his heart until Hannah stalked from the room and crouched down by her daughter. No, their daughter.

      Maybe he hadn’t said the right thing, but what did she expect when she’d just dropped a bomb like that? He didn’t know what to think, let alone what to say.

      How naive he’d been with his big plans to return here and to earn Hannah’s forgiveness and her heart. He’d thought he and Hannah were the only two involved, that their old conflicts were only between the two of them, when a third person had been growing inside Hannah before he’d ever left.

      Father. He couldn’t wrap his thoughts around the title yet, let alone apply it to himself. Everything he knew about himself changed with that single admission.

      “Why did you have to come back?” Hannah whispered when she returned to him, appearing more agitated than before. “We were doing fine. Just fine. Now you’ve messed all of that up. We’ll never be the same.”

      “Come on, Hannah. We have a lot to talk about.”

      “I don’t think so. You’ve got your answer now, so go.”

      “I СКАЧАТЬ