was how Mercedes had ended up with Fern, apparently.
Carlo ran his hand through his hair and almost groaned aloud. He shouldn’t have given up on their marriage so readily, but the truth was, he’d realized there was no more love or connection between them. Kath had been deep into a partying lifestyle she hadn’t wanted to change. Reuniting would have been such an uphill battle that he hadn’t minded when she’d kicked him out after just a week.
He was no good at relationships, never had been. But he hated that he’d left her to struggle alone. And even more, he hated that he’d left this innocent child to be raised by an unstable mother.
So now he was going to try to fix what had gone wrong. Maybe he’d failed as a husband. He’d failed at getting Kath into rehab. Failed as a father, so far.
But now that he knew about her existence, he was determined not to fail Mercedes. No, sir, never again. Though he was horrible at intimate relationships, he got along okay with kids. Even had a gift for working with them, according to his friends in the missionary field. Ironic that he, the guy who scared off most women and a lot of men, seemed to connect effortlessly with kids.
When Fern got off the phone, he stuffed down his feelings and made his face and voice bland. The first step in getting his daughter back was to find out what had been going on in her life. “Everything okay?”
Fern nodded, biting her lip. That was a habit of hers, he noticed. And it was really distracting, because she had full, pretty lips.
“Who was that?”
She gave him a look that said he’d overstepped his boundaries.
“Miss Lou Ann, from church,” Mercedes said. “She gave me a toothbrush. Want to see?”
“Sure,” Carlo said, and watched the child run toward the stairs, his heart squeezing in his chest.
“Lou Ann Miller gives all the children toothbrushes. Musical ones. She doesn’t believe in candy.”
“That figures. I remember her.”
Fern cocked her head to one side. “She remembers you, too.”
“I don’t doubt it.” He studied Fern and risked a question. “How’d you end up taking care of Mercedes anyway?”
She hesitated.
Easy, easy. “No need to tell me if you don’t want to. I’m just curious.”
Fern perched on the hearth and started stacking blocks absently. “It’s okay. I need to get used to talking about it. But it’s a sad story.”
Carlo’s stomach twisted with shame. He was, at least in part, responsible for the sadness.
“She’s my friend Kath’s little girl. Kath wasn’t in town that long, but she made a huge difference in my life. We got...super close. And then she died.” Fern’s voice cracked just as Mercedes came trotting back down the stairs, musical toothbrush in hand.
“Look, mister! It makes a song!” She shook it vigorously and then looked up and touched Fern’s face. “Why you sad, Mama Fern?”
“Just thinking about your mama.”
“Oh.” Mercedes nodded. “Bye!” she said suddenly, and ran across the room to a pink case full of dolls and doll clothes.
Fern chuckled. “Kids. When they don’t want to talk about something, you know it.”
Carlo had to know. “What...what did she say about Mercedes’s dad? Was he ever in the picture?”
“She didn’t talk much about him. Said he had issues. But what kind of guy would leave a terminally ill woman to cope with their little daughter alone?”
That was the question.
He had a lot to make up for, and it started with helping his daughter right now, stranded in the storm.
Given how fiercely protective Fern seemed, he didn’t think he could explain his role in the situation without arousing her ire and getting kicked out. And then how would the pair cope, given that the snow was starting up again?
No, better to wait out the storm without revealing his identity. Once it was over, he could see about paternity tests and get advice from a lawyer about how to proceed.
Meanwhile, he could help out a vulnerable child and foster mom. Maybe start to absolve himself of some of his misdeeds. Get to know little Mercedes.
Redeem himself. If that was even possible.
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