Chantal said. “And it’s about time you man up and take care of your responsibilities.”
Ethan’s spine stiffened even more at the insult to his masculinity and the implication of his negligence. His eyes darted between his former high school girlfriend and the dark-haired child who appeared to only be interested in the patterns her sneakers made on the snow-covered steps. While he didn’t know much about raising kids, he at least knew better than to let them go running around without socks when it was only twenty degrees outside.
“Why didn’t you call me?” What he really wanted to ask was why had Chantal waited almost twelve years to spring such a life-changing surprise on him. “Or tell me before now?”
One minute, he’d been getting ready to head out for his regular breakfast over at the Cowgirl Up Café, wondering if today would be the day he’d finally convinced the shy server who waited on him every morning to go out on a date. The next minute, someone was banging on his front door and then accusing him of being a deadbeat dad to a child he’d never even known about.
“Because I didn’t find out I was pregnant until after you’d joined the Navy and shipped out. It wasn’t like you left a forwarding address before you and your dad ran out of town that summer.”
It was true, Ethan had enlisted right after graduation. His dad was in the oil rigging business, constantly on the move to different cities depending on the latest job. Ethan had already switched high schools five times in three years and, that summer, the only new start he’d been eager to make was the change that would finally begin his adult life.
Scanning the alley behind the row of Victorian buildings that made up the downtown business district of Sugar Falls, Ethan realized that the local merchants would soon be filling up those parking spaces. “Maybe you should come inside and we can talk about this.”
“Nothing to talk about,” Chantal said, snatching the plastic sack out of her—and possibly his—daughter’s hand and tossing it into his entryway. A purple T-shirt spilled out and landed on his bare foot. “I can’t do this anymore. I’m just not cut out for motherhood. It’s your turn to step up and be a father.”
She turned around and gave Trina’s shoulder an awkward hug. “I’m sorry, Trina,” she said, a hint of sadness creeping into her voice. “But it’s for the best. You’ll see.”
Chantal then brushed past the girl and marched down the steps. Ethan took a few strides to chase after the woman, but only made it halfway down the staircase when he realized that the child wasn’t following. Or begging her mom not to leave her. The poor thing just stood there, looking as miserable as Ethan felt.
Something was ricocheting in his chest with a thumping urgency, but his body remained perfectly still. He needed to do something, to say something, but all he could do was grip the wrought iron handrail until his brain and his body could work in sync.
What he wouldn’t give for a shot of bourbon right about now. Or for a call from his AA sponsor. But no amount of booze or platitudes or even SEAL team combat training could’ve prepared Ethan for the blow he’d just been dealt.
Not knowing what to do, his feet grew restless and the snow squishing between his toes began to sting, causing him to take a step toward the girl. Then he froze up all over again, like that time in Kabul when he and his buddy Boscoe faced an unexpected rainstorm of firepower. One wrong move could cause everything to blow up in his face. Worse than it already had.
An engine turned over in the alley below his apartment and he looked over his shoulder in time to see Chantal speeding off in a Geo Storm that might’ve been yellow twenty years ago. The shredded end of a rope holding the hatchback down to the bumper dragged along the wet asphalt as she made her escape.
A shiver started between Ethan’s shoulder blades and traveled its way down his back. He ran a hand through his still damp hair and faced the young girl huddled on his porch.
His gut was telling him that it couldn’t be possible for him to have a daughter. However, in the right light, if the child would look up and shove some of the stringy, black hair from her eyes, Ethan might concede that she somewhat resembled his French grandmother.
To be fair to Chantal, he had to admit he hadn’t exactly kept track of every person he’d ever slept with over the years, but certainly he would’ve remembered if he’d gotten someone pregnant. Wouldn’t he?
The girl made a sniffing sound, as though her nose was running, but she still didn’t raise her head or look in his direction.
Shame flooded through him at the realization that he’d never even thought to ask her if she was okay. Or to try and put the child at ease. He opened his mouth to say something but couldn’t command his tongue to form any words and ended up snapping it closed again. Damn. He was already proving himself to be a crappy father.
Clearing his throat, he reminded himself that he was once a member of an elite Special Forces team and had encountered dangers far graver than an eleven-year-old landing on his doorstep. “Hi,” he said. “I’m Ethan.”
“I know,” the girl whispered, then wrapped a scrawny arm around her waist. It was then that he noticed she wasn’t even wearing a sweater, let alone a coat.
“Why don’t you come inside, Trina? It’s freezing out here.”
The girl eventually lifted her face and his lungs seized. Her eyes weren’t wide with fear, as Ethan would’ve expected. Nor were they filled with humiliation or hurt, which would’ve been understandable given the way her mother had just dumped her here. Instead, they were completely without expression. Witnessing their empty depths would’ve been downright spooky if he hadn’t recognized that same look in his own eyes the night after his last covert ops assignment. Or recognized the identical sapphire-blue color that ran rampant in the Renault family.
Trina didn’t decline his invitation, but she wasn’t exactly quick to make a decision either. She had to be equally as afraid of him as he was of her. Stranger danger and all that. She must’ve heard her mother announce that he was her father, but that didn’t mean she necessarily believed it. Well, that made two of them.
Being careful not to touch her as he stepped around her shivering form, Ethan held open the door, hoping that the heat coming from his apartment would be more inviting than the ugly used furniture inside. He was about to go into the kitchen and grab his cell phone to call for backup when finally, with an apprehensive look cast in Ethan’s direction, her feet shuffled toward him.
Trina gave him a measured glance before swooping low to grab her purple T-shirt and shoving it back into her grocery bag. She held the recovered belongings close to her chest, as though they were some sort of shield that could protect her from him.
“Are you hungry?” Ethan asked. He left the front door wide-open as he walked toward the kitchen, not wanting her to feel trapped. Would she follow? Or would she run off, just as her mother had?
“Kinda,” Trina replied, her voice again no louder than a whisper. She was on the thin side and he wondered when she’d had her last meal.
Ethan stared at his bare counters, knowing full well the only thing he could offer the girl right now would be a mug of triple-brewed dark roast.
“I...uh...wasn’t exactly expecting company.” He shoved his hands in his pockets and rocked back on his heels. “I usually eat breakfast at the café across the street.”
Trina
