Reid was at a loss. Honesty, he decided, was the best route, so he’d—once again—explained that all indications stated that Parker was out of danger and on the road to a full recovery. And he was, though from what Reid understood, Parker had another surgery facing him, followed by months of physical therapy.
Five-year-old Megan hadn’t said a word, just sat there and watched Reid with her sad, fearful brown eyes. She’d looked so lonely that he’d picked her up and put her on his lap, where she snuggled against his chest and gripped his shirtsleeve as if it were a life preserver.
Refusing to let the rest of her question go, Erin had jutted out her chin—a mannerism that, again, had Daisy written all over it—and asked, “But if something happened to Daddy, who would take care of us? I don’t want to be in a f-foster home.”
Damn that movie. “Sweet pea, that would never happen,” Reid had said, and he’d meant it, but the truth was that he had no idea what Parker’s plans were if such a crisis ever occurred. He could, however, guess at the likeliest candidates.
He started with Parker’s parents, Charles and Clara Lennox, who had retired to Florida several years earlier, and then moved on to the girls’ maternal grandparents, who lived in Boston. While he knew Erin and Megan had a good relationship with both sets of their grandparents, neither answer fully satisfied the elder Lennox daughter.
With a quietly contemplative expression, she’d asked, “What if they can’t? Who then?”
Reid had fumbled for a second before naming their aunt Daisy, not fully believing that Parker would trust the care of his daughters to someone who was a virtual stranger, but unable to latch on to another person that would make sense.
Saying Daisy’s name aloud—something he rarely did—caused him a fleeting spasm of pain, of loss…a little bewilderment, along with a good, solid dose of anger.
At Daisy, for not giving them a chance before taking off. At himself, too, for keeping silent on the very same news that had sent her running. He should’ve told her the truth about her paternity when he learned of it, and not decided to wait until after they were married.
Perhaps if he had, she would’ve leaned on him, trusted in him and their relationship, instead of bolting and never looking back. To this day, she had no idea that he could have saved her from her mother’s ill-timed confession. No one, not even Parker, knew about the argument he’d overheard between Clara and Charles Lennox the week before the wedding.
That was a secret he still kept.
So, yeah, he’d kicked himself over his misguided actions. But he couldn’t undo them. And Daisy had made the decision to leave him and their future without so much as a conversation. In his estimation, that made both of them wrong and neither of them blameless.
But Reid was a practical man, and as the years had piled up on one another, he’d learned to keep the past where it belonged. Mostly, this mindset had proven successful.
Mostly wasn’t always, though, so mentioning Daisy as a possible guardian for the girls evoked the same mixed bag of reactions he’d become resigned to dealing with. As usual—at least for the last long while—those feelings dissipated as abruptly as they’d appeared, and Reid had returned his focus to the little girl on his lap and the one standing directly in front of him.
“Listen to me, angel,” he’d said, purposely speaking in a slow and authoritative voice. “I will never let you live in a foster home. I will always be here for you and your sister.”
Erin’s pinched expression softened slightly. “Do you promise?”
“I promise.”
That had done the trick, and shortly, the three were crowded around the tiny table in the girls’ bedroom, having a tea party with their favorite stuffed animals. After which, he’d prepared dinner, and the rest of the evening had flown by with various activities. The highlight, of course, was speaking with their father, and the promise that they should be able to visit him soon.
Baths and tickling and bedtime stories—three of them—followed. Both girls had seemingly drifted off toward the end of the last, and Reid had tucked them in, kissed them on their cheeks and gone into the hallway to stand guard.
Deciding enough time had passed to believe they were good and truly out, Reid pushed himself off the wall and yawned. He’d straighten the kitchen, since he hadn’t after dinner, shower and see if he could stay awake long enough to catch the news. Or…hell, maybe he’d skip all of it and just hit the sack, try to get up early enough to—
Muffled sounds that couldn’t be what he thought drifted up the stairs from the living room. A barking dog? In the house? Had one of the girls turned on the television when he hadn’t noticed? Had to be that, because he remembered locking the front door. Still, he took the stairs two at a time, and when he reached the landing, every damn hair on his arms stood up straight.
He didn’t need to take another step to recognize the low, sultry voice emanating from around the corner. It didn’t matter how many years had passed, that voice had been branded into his brain for all eternity. Without a doubt, Daisy Lennox—the woman he’d once envisioned spending the rest of his life with—had come home.
Dumbfounded, Reid froze and…just listened. She crooned to what he assumed was the dog he’d heard, saying something about kibble and a fresh bowl of water. One by one, each of his senses went on high alert, and his earlier mixed bag of emotions returned with a bang.
Part of him wanted to walk into the living room, pull her into his arms and take up where they’d left off—no questions asked. The other part wanted to go upstairs and hightail it out of a bedroom window, just so he’d never again have to look her in the eyes.
The first idea was foolhardy and beyond ludicrous. The second was gutless and as impossible as the first. Even if behaving cowardly were in Reid’s DNA, he wouldn’t sneak off while the girls were sleeping. He wouldn’t disappear on them, now or ever. With or without a letter.
To Reid’s way of thinking, that left him with a solitary option: man up and announce his presence, remain polite and calmly let Daisy know—since he had to assume her arrival was due to learning of Parker’s accident—that he had everything under control.
Shouldn’t take much to get her to leave, and this time, he’d be relieved—hell, happy—to send her on her way. Right. She’d be gone within two days. Certainly no more than three.
He could keep the peace for three days, couldn’t he? Yup, that he could. Decision made, Reid relaxed his features into an emotionless mask and forced his leaden legs to carry him forward. As he walked, he focused on three words: calm, polite and detached.
Of course, those three words evaporated the second he rounded the corner into the archway that separated the house’s entrance from the living room, the second his eyes settled on the woman he’d never been able to forget. She was still beautiful. Still…Daisy.
Seeing him, she gasped, but didn’t speak. Neither did he.
At some juncture, she’d cut her long, coppery red hair into a short, wispy style that pulled attention to her arresting green-blue eyes and the delicate angles of her face. She was dressed inappropriately for February in Colorado, wearing a lightweight jacket over what appeared to be a summery dress and a pair of…clogs? Yeah, clogs. The woman was insane.
But achingly familiar. The Daisy he’d fallen
