beer. “One of those,” she said, pointing.
“Beer?”
“Sure. Don’t tell me you’re one of those people who don’t think women should drink beer.”
“Not at all.” He laughed. “In fact, I plan to join you.”
When the waitress came over he ordered their meals and two beers. They didn’t have to wait long before the food and drinks arrived. Anna gasped when she saw the size of the platter placed before them.
“It’s their Taste of Germany. You couldn’t come here without trying it,” Judd said.
“I’ll take your word for it. I sure hope you’re hungry, too,” Anna replied, taking a sip of her chilled beer. “Mmm, that’s good.”
She grew so engrossed in the meal and their surroundings that she didn’t notice when a family with several children raced by their table. One of the kids lost his balance when his foot hooked into the handle of her bag, which she’d placed on the ground by the table leg. Anna’s hands flew to stabilize the beer mugs on the table as it rocked under the impact of the youngster’s clumsiness.
“Oh, no! I’m so sorry,” his harried mother said, rushing to pick up the belongings that had scattered from Anna’s bag.
“Don’t worry, it’s okay,” Anna assured her, reaching for the items the woman had so far gathered and shoving them back in her bag. “Really, it’s my fault. I shouldn’t have left the strap hanging out like that.”
Judd had risen from his chair and was helping to collect Anna’s things. Too late she saw the stark-white envelope that had been ejected from its hiding place. His long-fingered hand hovered over it and her heart sank to the soles of her feet as she registered the exact moment he identified the name on the front.
He settled back in his chair, handing most of her things back to her, but holding the envelope between his fingers as if it contained something dangerous inside. The mother and her son moved on, rejoining the rest of their family, but Anna didn’t even notice. All she could do was stare at Judd and the flat packet in his hands.
“Care to explain this?” he said, his voice suddenly devoid of the warmth it had contained only moments ago.
Anna took a deep breath. “It’s a letter.”
“I can see that. It looks like a letter to me.”
She couldn’t maintain eye contact and instead dropped her gaze to her lap, where her fingers knotted in anxiety. This was all wrong. She’d wanted to give him the letter when she was ready, when she was in control and when she could better gauge what his reaction would be. Not in a public place like this, with no warning and no chance to prepare him for the letter’s contents.
“It is,” she said softly.
She flinched as she heard the envelope tear open. Her stomach tied in a knot of unbelievable proportions as the sound of a single sheet of paper being unfolded overwhelmed the noise of the diners and sightseers around them.
Anna finally lifted her gaze and watched as Judd read the letter his father had written. The letter that had the capacity to change all their lives. When he’d finished, he neatly refolded the sheet and put it back in the envelope. Still he said nothing. A shiver of fear danced down her spine. He was calm, too calm. She’d seen Charles get like this and she knew that it was only the quiet before the storm. What was coming could only be cataclysmic.
She reached across the table, touching his forearm. He shook off her touch as if she were nothing more than an annoying insect.
“Judd—” she started, but whatever she’d been about to say died in her throat when he met her eyes and she felt the full fury of the glacial fire reflected there.
“Who the hell are you and why are you really here?”
Across the table Anna stared at him in shock. She felt all color drain from her face and a numb coldness settle in the pit of her stomach. She’d done this all wrong. She should have just followed Charles’s orders right from the start to make an appointment to see Judd and tell him from the outset why she was there. She took a deep breath before speaking.
“I … I’ve told you who I am. I’m Anna Garrick. And …” Her mouth dried, forcing her to pause for a moment, and swallow, before continuing, “And I’m here because your father desperately wants to make amends for the past.”
“If he’s so keen to make amends, why isn’t he here himself?” Judd demanded.
His skin had gone taut across his features, lending an implacable hardness to his face, and his eyes burned with a hard blue intensity.
“He didn’t tell you in the letter?”
“I want to hear it from you. Why did he not come here himself? Was he too ashamed to face up to me, to face up to the truth that his own pride and his stupid accusations are responsible for having torn our family apart in the first place?”
Anna made a small noise of protest. It wasn’t like that. Sure, she’d heard that Charles hadn’t been an angel at the time his marriage to Cynthia had fallen irrevocably apart—who ever was when under extreme pressure?—but from what her mother had told her, she knew that Cynthia had done plenty of damage, as well. Charles definitely hadn’t been solely responsible for what had happened, no matter what Judd’s mother might have told him.
“Well?” Judd demanded.
“He’s unwell. His doctor wouldn’t clear him to travel.” The diabetes that had plagued Charles for so many years had worsened, in part due to his late diagnosis and subsequent reluctance to follow medical recommendations to prevent further damage to his body. His kidneys were showing signs that renal failure could be just around the corner.
“How convenient.”
Judd lifted his stein and took a healthy swig of its contents, and Anna felt the initial stirrings of her own anger rise in response to his derision.
“It isn’t convenient at all, actually. Look, I’m not privy to exactly what he said in his letter to you, but I have a pretty good idea of what he’s asking. He wants to see you again. To get to know you before he—” Suddenly overwhelmed with emotion, her voice broke.
“Before he what?”
“Before he dies,” she said shakily.
“You care about him?” Judd’s voice was devoid of emotion.
“More than you could ever understand,” she said, forcing herself to pull it together. “He is not a well man, Judd. Please, this could be your last chance to get to know him. He’s your father, surely you owe him that.”
“Owe him?” He snorted a laugh. “That’s rich. I don’t owe him anything and I haven’t exactly missed out on having him in my life. I don’t see why that should change, although he has certainly attempted to sweeten the pot to entice me back to New Zealand.”
“Sweeten
