weren’t in love with her and probably never would be.”
“You’re using the past tense.” A chill skittered up his spine.
“That’s right,” Talia acknowledged. But she didn’t elaborate. Instead she said, “Madeline had a talent. She could sing and she had gotten auditions and began to get bookings that paid more than the landscape business.”
He suddenly remembered Madeline, because she had sung at the party the night he met her. Talia was right: she had talent.
“You remember her,” Talia said, startling him that she guessed his thoughts so easily.
“It’s a little blurry, but I do. I don’t go out much, so there aren’t many occasions to even try to recall, but I remember her because she was beautiful and talented. She sang for everyone that night.”
“Madeline was on the way to a successful singing career, until several months ago when she was killed in a car wreck. She was young and she didn’t leave a will. Since her death I’ve been caring for her baby, and now I’m in a fight with the state, which wants to take her precious baby away. I’ve pulled every string I can, but I’m not a relative nor the legal guardian of Madeline’s baby. Madeline left no directive, nothing to indicate that she would want to appoint me guardian of her baby. She had no family, either. You, on the other hand, are her baby’s blood father.”
He barely heard what she went on to say to him. His mind was stuck on one phrase. ...baby’s blood father...
He was the father of a baby.
A baby he didn’t know with a deceased mother he barely remembered.
“Sorry, give me a second. This is a shock.” He reached for his water and took a gulp. What he really needed was something far stronger. “When you said you needed to see me, I didn’t dream it would be about a baby. My baby. A baby that’s an orphan.”
“Not really an orphan,” Talia said, looking intently at him. “She has a living blood relative—her father. You. I’ve checked you out and you have high recommendations as to your character.” She paused a second. Then her gaze seemed to deepen as she continued. “I need your help, Nick.”
“How’s that?” he asked, trying to pay attention and listen to what she was saying, but the shock of learning he had a baby still dominated his attention.
“You can keep the state from taking her.”
“Her? A little girl?” he asked, his shock increasing. “I don’t know one thing about little girls.”
“There was a time you didn’t know anything about running a ranch or about baby boys, either.”
They stared at each other and he could feel an invisible ripple of conflict. He ignored it.
He had a baby girl whom he’d never seen. That was the only thought that dominated his mind. “How old is she?” he asked her.
“Fourteen months.”
“I had a baby boy for two months. He would be two years, nine months old now.” Trying to push aside a familiar dull ache at the thought of Regina and Artie, Nick took a deep breath. “Beyond the two months with Artie, I have no experience being a father. It was different when I had a wife and we wanted a family, but... I don’t know anything about babies. I don’t know anything about little girls...”
His hand practically shook as he put his glass down on the table. The next thought struck him like a raging bull. “You’re sure this is my baby?”
Talia showed no reaction. She maintained her composure as she replied. “Yes, Madeline was sure. You can get a DNA test if you’d like. Hattie is her name.”
“Hattie’s her name?” He liked the way it sounded.
She nodded. “I don’t have any doubt about the outcome, but no doubt you’ll be reassured when the DNA results prove that Hattie is your little girl.”
For a moment they sat in silence as he gazed out the window at his land spreading off in the distance. Was this true? Was he a father again? Even though he had been a father for two months, he couldn’t see himself as a dad to a little girl who was over one year old.
He looked back at Talia and met a cool, blue-eyed stare. She impressed him because in her quiet way, even when she didn’t want to break the news, she had taken charge of this meeting, something that didn’t happen to him with women, except for his grandmother.
“You’ve been caring for this baby?”
“Yes, I’ve been keeping Hattie since Madeline’s death. I watched Hattie often before Madeline died. As I said, she had no family and I was like a second mama for Hattie. Hattie has been in day care and I pick her up when I leave school. In a few weeks, the spring session will be over and I’m not teaching this summer. I’ll take her out of day care and be home with her.”
He sat quietly, mulling over all he had learned. How was he going to deal with this? He was a parent who didn’t know anything about babies or little girls and he wanted solid proof that this was actually his child.
“I want the DNA test,” he said. “Until I have proof, I don’t want to do anything.”
“I can understand that and I expected you to want confirmation. But you must understand, time is an issue here. However, if I tell the state agents that you’re looking into gaining custody of your child, they’ll probably back off for a while, especially long enough for you to get a DNA test.”
“If they don’t, I’ll talk to my attorney and we’ll deal with them.”
She opened her purse, pulled out an envelope and handed it to him. “Here’s the name, a number to call and the address for the DNA test. It takes time, but it will prove Hattie is your baby girl. My number is there also.”
Nick took the envelope, turning it over in his hand.
“In the meantime,” Talia added, “so we don’t waste time, I think you should meet Hattie.”
Maybe she was right.
He looked up at her. “You sound certain about my parentage. If I get this little child, if she is mine and the state backs off, where do you come in? You’ve been caring for her.”
She shook her head and looked away, and to his shock it looked as if her eyes filled with tears. “I love Hattie like she’s my own, but I know I have to give her up. She’s your baby. You’re young and you’ll marry again. I’m realistic enough to know there won’t be a place in her life for me once I turn her over to you.”
She ran her fingers over her eyes and he knew she wiped away tears. He thought about his own loss. He only knew his son two months, but he had loved him beyond measure, so he could understand her feelings. She’d loved this baby for fourteen months and a lot of that time she had been the sole parent with only the help of the day care. He was sorry that she hurt and he knew the hurt would only grow.
“It’s amazing how babies can wrap around your heart and steal it away,” he said gently and she gave him a startled glance. “If you live in the area, perhaps we can work something out where you can see her. We’ll talk about it after the
