them. Colin risked a glance at his daughter as she leaned against the window frame, her cheek resting against the cool glass. Her profile, so much like her mother’s, made him ache. Danielle had been classically beautiful, yet her delicate features could not have hinted at the vulnerability hiding in her fragile mind. Years ago, geneticists had warned him that Danielle may have handed down her condition to their only daughter. Colin swallowed against the lump that had risen in his throat. All he could do was hope that Danni had dodged that bullet.
Putting the SUV into Park, he turned to tell Danni to go straight to bed, but she hadn’t waited for instruction. She was already out of the truck and stomping her way through the snow to the front door. By the time Colin made it to the house she was already ensconced in her bedroom with the door closed firmly behind her.
“Well, girl,” he said to the dog, which to his best guess looked to be some kind of yellow lab cross, her face nearly white with age. “It’s just you and me. How about something to eat?”
The dog looked up at him with big brown eyes that were sweet and trusting and he found himself hoping that Erin McNulty didn’t flake on the poor thing. He didn’t know her from Adam but she made it pretty clear that coming home to Granite Hills was as appealing as having a nail pounded into her foot. He went to the fridge and pulled out some ground beef he’d planned to make into burgers tomorrow and crumbled some into a bowl for the dog. He’d hate to have to put her into the shelter. By the way she moved, stiff and slow, it looked as if she had some level of hip dysplasia. If the McNulty woman pulled a no-show and he had to check her into the shelter, the odds were slim that she’d find a home. He wasn’t a bleeding heart, by any means, but he didn’t like the thought of putting the old girl down.
“It ain’t steak but it’s better than nothing,” he murmured, giving the dog a gentle pat on the head as she bent down to eat what was offered. A small smile lifted the corners of his mouth. At least someone would go to bed happy. His gaze strayed to his daughter’s closed door, knowing that he was, no doubt, playing center stage as the villain in his little girl’s dreams, and his brief moment of satisfaction evaporated. After placing a bowl of water on the kitchen floor, he retired to the small room he’d converted to an office, wishing he could sleep but knowing that he couldn’t. Despite the late hour, he sighed as he picked up the phone and made a quick call to his sister so that she wouldn’t worry. With Sara’s husband in Iraq and a six-month-old to care for, she certainly didn’t need the grief Danni was dishing out on a daily basis to everyone she felt had betrayed her.
A box of chamomile tea sat unopened on his desk, part of a care package his mother had sent. He wasn’t much interested in it, but his mother swore by chamomile when things looked rough. She said it had a soothing touch. He eyed the box without much hope. He knew what he needed wasn’t in that box but at this point he was starting to feel a little desperate.
God, he missed his parents. They’d bought a condo in Florida last year in search of warmer climates. With her arthritis getting worse each year, Ma said she couldn’t take the winters here anymore. They were coming back for the summer, but it just wasn’t the same without them. Although his sisters lived close by, they were busy with their own lives and he hated to bother them with the problems he was having with Danni. Turning to face the large bay window, he watched as Mother Nature did her level best to ensure that Granite Hills was buried under a soft layer of snow come morning. Colin thought of the McNulty woman and wondered if her flight would be delayed due to the weather.
He closed his eyes to relieve the burning behind them and briefly thought about giving that damn tea a shot. He needed sleep but he knew that if he went to bed he’d just end up tossing and turning, punching his pillow in frustration or staring at the ceiling. He was only thirty-six but he felt one hundred. The last few weeks with Danni had been hell.
And he blamed himself. He should’ve told Danni the truth a long time ago but he’d chickened out. Now, the secret was out and his daughter hated him for it.
A seemingly innocuous slip of paper, he mused bitterly, had driven a wedge between him and his only child.
How many times since that afternoon had he wished he’d burned it the moment it’d been put in his hands? A dozen, a hundred, a million? Countless. But he hadn’t. Like an idiot he’d put it in his file cabinet and forgotten about it.
Until he came home one day three weeks ago to find Danni standing in his office, holding it in her hand, her eyes full of wounded disbelief, demanding an answer.
“What is this!” Danni had screeched, tears streaming down her cheeks, jerking the paper away just as he’d reached for it—no, grabbed at it—in horror. “You lied! You said she died in a car accident when I was a baby but she didn’t!” She thrust the document at him, the broken-hearted look reflecting back at him nearly sent him to his knees apologizing. “This says she died five years ago—” her voice dropped and wavered, suddenly sounding much younger “—of a drug overdose.”
He’d tried grasping the death certificate she’d waved under his nose but she’d jerked it away, scanning it as if it would somehow reveal the truth to her as he had not.
“Danni, you don’t understand…it’s complicated,” Colin tried explaining, but Danni wasn’t interested in the reasons. “I was going to tell you when you got older, but the time never seemed right…I’m so sorry you had to find out this way.”
“But you lied,” Danni wailed, the tears falling unchecked to splash down the front of her shirt in wet splotches. “All that time… I could have known her. I wanted to know her! You didn’t have the right!”
The rise in Danni’s voice bordered on hysteria, reminding him of Danielle for a split second and panic fueled his reaction. “Like hell I didn’t!” he roared, his hands curling in his vehemence. His heart thundered in his chest and he fought for control but it was too late.
Face pale and lower lip trembling, Danni pulled away when he tried reaching for her and fled the room.
The echoed slam of her bedroom door reverberated in his memory. Lately, the sound of a slamming door was just about the only communication between them. Colin understood her rage, the sense of betrayal, but he’d had no choice.
He stared grimly at the gently falling snow out his bay window. That saying “the road to hell was paved with good intentions” could be tattooed across his forehead. His intentions had been good. He’d wanted to tell Danni the truth when she were older. Old enough to handle it. Instead, fate had different plans and here he was up to his eyeballs in misery because of it.
Colin dropped his head into his hands and drew a painful breath. The fact of the matter was it had been easier to tell Danni that her mama had died from a car accident than a drug overdose. And it sure was a lot easier than telling his little girl that her mother had tried to kill her.
CHAPTER FOUR
TEN HOURS LATER, after hopping a red-eye, Erin’s plane was touching down in Ironwood at the Gogebic-Iron County Airport on time, despite the storm that had the snow-removing equipment busy on the runway between flights. She rubbed at her eyes, blaming the constant burn she felt on the lack of sleep due to two lengthy layovers, one in Denver the other in Chicago. She tried not to think of the fact that she was actually returning to the place that she’d gratefully said goodbye to long ago.
For a dog.
Not just any dog, her conscience whispered. Caroline’s dog. Her breath hitched in her throat and she forced herself to ignore the pain in her heart and the fatigue that dragged on her heels. Let’s just get this over with, she thought, winding her woolen scarf around her
