The Baby Surprise / The Father for Her Son. Cindi Myers

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СКАЧАТЬ don’t see how we can be anything else, not if it’s your intention to disrupt Emma’s life.”

      “I want to get to know my daughter. How is that disruptive?”

      “The disruption will come when you disappear from her life as abruptly as you appeared in it.”

      She spoke with such conviction he guessed it was likely that she’d grown up with a father who was a transitory presence, too. He knew he had no hope of defending himself against her personal demons, so he only said, “Maybe we should continue this conversation tomorrow.”

      “Why?”

      “Because I just got home last night, I read Olivia’s letter this morning, then drove from Trenton to Syracuse to Pinehurst, all the while trying to get my head around the fact that I have a fourteen-month-old child I didn’t know anything about before today.”

      “I thought you’d be going back to New Jersey tomorrow, if not sooner.”

      “You mean you wished I was.”

      She didn’t deny it.

      “I’m not going anywhere until we figure this out,” he assured her.

      “Unless duty calls,” she guessed.

      “I have almost two months.”

      But the skepticism in her eyes warned that she knew it was a promise he couldn’t make and confirmed that Paige’s apparent disapproval of his career was about more than the possibility of his deployment interfering with his ability to get to know Emma.

      “Then I guess I’ll see you tomorrow,” she said.

      “What time is good?”

      “Not oh-five-hundred,” she warned.

      He smiled. “How about oh-nine-hundred?”

      “A much more civilized hour.”

      Zach wished her a good-night and made his way to the door.

      His first meeting with Paige Wilder hadn’t gone as well as he’d hoped. But nothing had gone quite as he’d expected since his plane had touched down at McGuire Air Force Base twenty-eight hours earlier. From the shocking news revealed by Olivia’s letter to his unexpected and undeniable reaction to Paige Wilder, his life was suddenly FUBAR.

      Yet, as he made his way to his SUV, he realized he was whistling and already looking forward to tomorrow.

      Zach had spotted a couple of hotels on Main Street when he’d driven through town earlier, so he started to retrace his route, figuring he would check into the first one that he came across. He found “Hadfield House—A Bed-and-Breakfast” first. The sign outside promised private baths and hot breakfasts, but Zach only cared that there was an empty bed because he was too exhausted to go much farther.

      Thankfully he always traveled with a duffel bag packed with a change of clothes and some basic toiletries—he certainly hadn’t planned on staying overnight. He hadn’t planned on being gone more than a few hours—just long enough to make the trip into Syracuse, talk to Olivia, demand an explanation for the letter and her silence, and try to figure out what the hell they were supposed to do now.

      The news that Olivia was dead had been as much a shock as her revelation about the baby. And although he grieved the death of the vibrant young woman, he was also frustrated by the realization that he wouldn’t ever have the opportunity to confront her and demand answers to the questions that crowded his mind.

      Early that morning, when he’d read Olivia’s letter—and reread it over and over again, as if doing so might somehow change the words that were written—he’d tried to call her, but both her home and cell numbers were out of service. At the time, he’d been more annoyed than concerned by the realization, but he’d decided that the conversation they needed to have should be face-to-face, and he’d driven to the apartment building she’d lived in while they were dating.

      When he got there, he found that her name was no longer on the tenant directory and his inquiries of the landlord only revealed that she no longer lived there. His next stop was the law firm where she worked, and when he walked through the heavy glass doors of the law offices of Wainwright, Witmer & Wynne, he’d been confident that he was getting closer to the answers he sought.

      It was the receptionist—Louise Pringle, according to the nameplate on her desk—who’d told him, with tears in her eyes, that Olivia had been killed in a motor-vehicle collision more than five months earlier.

      He’d had to swallow around the lump of guilt and regrets that had lodged in his throat before he could ask, “Did she have her baby with her?”

      “Oh, no. Paige was babysitting the little angel, and thank the good Lord for that.”

      Relief shuddered through his system, assuring him that, although the news about the baby had rocked him to the very core, he wanted a chance to know his child, to be a father to his little girl.

      “Paige?” he prompted.

      “Paige Wilder. She’s another one of the attorneys here. She has legal custody of Emma now.”

      “Is it possible for me to see Ms. Wilder?”

      “She’s out of town,” the efficient Louise had said, consulting the schedule on her computer. “But Victoria Lawrence might be able to squeeze you in around two o’clock tomorrow.”

      “Thanks, but I really need to see Ms. Wilder,” he had said. “Do you have a number where I could contact her?”

      The older woman had started to shake her head, but then she eyed the uniform again and paused. “I really can’t give out that kind of information,” she said. “Maybe if you left your name and number and the reason you want to speak with her, I could contact Paige and ask her to get in touch with you.”

      “It’s a personal matter.”

      The furrow in her brow deepened, but when she looked up at him again, her eyes suddenly widened. “Oh, I didn’t realize.”

      “Didn’t realize?” he prompted.

      “You’re Emma’s father.”

      Her matter-of-fact assertion had taken him aback. Although he had originally gone to the law offices to see Olivia about that possibility, he’d been completely unprepared to hear a stranger echo his short-term girlfriend’s allegation.

      “What makes you say that?” he asked, as wary as he was curious.

      “She has your eyes,” Louise told him.

      “Crawford blue” was how his mother had always referred to the color that each of her children had inherited from their father.

      Although blue was a common eye color, he’d had enough people comment on the unique shade of his to realize that “Crawford blue” was distinctive. But he couldn’t say for certain whether or not Olivia’s child had the same color eyes because she’d been asleep when he arrived at Paige Wilder’s door.

      He hadn’t looked at her closely СКАЧАТЬ