could he not?” he asked.
How, indeed? Hannah wondered.
“YOU SURE YOU WANT ME TO GO IN with you?” Joe guided his Land Rover into a space in front of Callahan Mercantile & Feed.
Gus’s truck was still out front, Hannah noted. Which was no surprise. Her dad often went in early, getting there at least an hour before the 7:00 a.m. opening, and staying at least an hour after it closed for the day. Sundays were a little lighter, but he was still there at least eight hours. The schedule, plus his refusal to ever take a vacation—never mind retire—had contributed to his heart attack. Hannah was afraid if he didn’t slow down, he would have another one.
“Because if you’d like to go it alone, have me wait out here for you…or just go on home…it’s fine.”
Hannah knew Joe was thinking this was a private matter, and it would have been, had she not been so afraid of Gus’s reaction the first time he set eyes on Isabella. Feigning more courage than she felt, she quipped, “Actually, Joe, I could use a human shield right about now.”
And like it or not, since the store had closed an hour before, Joe was likely it.
“So if you don’t mind…”
“I’d be glad to assist you, ma’am.” Joe tipped an imaginary hat at her and got out from behind the wheel. He opened the rear passenger door and waited while Hannah unbuckled the straps keeping the sleeping Isabella in her car seat. Carefully, she handed her daughter over to Joe. Then she climbed out on stiff legs.
She felt awful and exhausted, after the twenty-six hours in the air, two standing in line in immigration, and another four in the car. But this had to be done.
“Relax. It’s going to be fine.” Joe carried Isabella as far as the front door.
Savoring his reassurance, even if she didn’t quite believe it, Hannah unlocked the door and pocketed her store keys. “Keep saying that,” she murmured as he handed the now-stirring Isabella back to her.
Joe held the door open and Hannah squared her shoulders. Plastering a smile on her face, she marched on through. Gus was on a metal stocking ladder at the rear of the store, placing stadium blankets on cubbyhole shelves just beneath the ceiling. “Dad?”
He turned. The expression on his face was wary rather than welcoming. Her heart sank.
“Hannah,” Gus greeted her curtly.
Resentment and sorrow mingled inside of her. Stronger than that, however, was her determination to make this right. Isabella had come a long way. She had been through a lot. She deserved a better greeting from the only grandfather she was ever going to have. Hannah worked to keep her tone cordial. “Come down and meet your new granddaughter.”
Gus plucked another blanket off the platform on the back of the stocking ladder. He turned his back to them. “Can’t right now. I’m busy.”
He wasn’t doing anything that couldn’t wait, she thought furiously.
Joe’s brow furrowed, but he said nothing.
In Hannah’s arms, Isabella stirred. Eyes still closed, she opened her cherubic mouth in a sweet, drowsy yawn.
Her father missed that. He was missing everything. Hannah’s temper began to boil.
Damn it, this was an important day in her life and her father was ruining it by acting like a stubborn old fool!
Ever so gently, she transferred her baby to Joe.
Hands knotted at her sides, she walked to the rear of the store, got a second stocking ladder, and wheeled the twenty-foot apparatus over to the other. Deliberately, she turned it so it faced his. Her emotions still soaring, she began climbing.
Her father’s frown deepened with every step she climbed. A mixture of disapproval and resentment tugged his lips into a frown. “Hannah, I do not have time to quarrel with you. I’ve got work to do this evening.”
Too late, Hannah realized this was a showdown she should have had with her dad before she left. Instead of just waiting and hoping he would mellow over time. She stopped when she was at eye level with him. “Tough. This once, Dad, you’re going to hear me out.”
Gus shot a look at Joe who was standing a good twenty feet away, Isabella snuggled in his arms, then turned back to Hannah. Gus’s expression remained grim as he warned, “We can do this later, young woman! In private.”
She had never really stood up to her dad—until now. “We’ll do it now.” She matched his contentious tone.
He blinked. Obviously stunned, he demanded, “What’s gotten into you?”
Tears stung Hannah’s eyes. “I’ll tell you what’s gotten into me. The same thing that used to get into Mom when you were out of line with me!” Only now her mom wasn’t here to play peacemaker and convince her father that what Hannah wanted—needed—wasn’t so outrageous after all.
If she wanted him to understand her, support her, she was going to have to persuade him to do so herself. And that meant talking with him, even when he was like this!
Sighing, Hannah gripped the sides of the stocking ladder and continued, emotionally, “I love you, Dad. More than I can say. But I am not—I repeat not—going to let you disrespect my child.”
Gus looked shocked. “Is that what you think I’m doing?”
“I don’t know what you’re doing!” Hannah paused as she saw him reach into his shirt pocket and then clutch his chest, as if in pain. “Dad!” Hannah cried.
Too late. He had already pitched to the left and lost his footing. Arms flailing, he fell sideways.
Helpless to do anything to prevent his swift awkward descent, Hannah watched in terror. Only later did she realize that the scream she heard as Gus slammed into a display of flannel shirts and jeans, was her own.
Chapter Four
The next half hour passed in a blur. There was a lot of swearing—from Gus. A lot of apologizing—from her—and a lot of calm reassurance to both of them from Joe. He also returned to baby duty, as Hannah knelt beside her father and fretted while the emergency medical technicians did their job.
Frustrated because she was not allowed to ride in the ambulance, Hannah climbed in the rear seat of Joe’s Land Rover, next to Isabella’s car seat. “This is all my fault,” she said miserably. “I shouldn’t have been arguing with my father.”
Joe repeated what her father had already said half a dozen times. “It was an accident, Hannah. Accidents happen. Although if you want my two cents, your father shouldn’t have been up on that stocking ladder in the first place. Work like that should be done by someone much younger.”
Her fingers shook as she fastened her seat belt. “Easier said than done, unless we want to hire high-school students.”
He caught her glance in the rearview mirror. “So hire high-school students.”
How
