living room, which was furnished with rustic pieces and minimal clutter.
Victoria sat in a leather chair. Had she avoided the sofa so he couldn’t sit next to her? He suspected that beneath the L.A. chic she was as nervous as he was. This couldn’t be any easier for her than it was for him, being in the same room with the guy who’d left her alone at the hospital.
Before he forgot his manners, he asked, “Would you like something to drink? I’ve got water, of course, and orange juice in the fridge. Or I can make a pot of coffee.”
“No, thanks, I’m fine.”
He moved forward and sat on the edge of the sofa, uncomfortable in his own home. He was still attracted to her, and he had no right to be. “Did you bring the pictures of Kaley?”
Victoria nodded and opened her purse. She extended an envelope toward him.
He took it from her, and soon he was studying a young woman with familiar features. Kaley had inherited Victoria’s refined nose and full mouth, but her dark hair, deep-set eyes and tanned complexion favored his.
Overwhelmed by her image, his heart did a daddy-in-waiting flip. “She’s beautiful.”
Pride colored Victoria’s voice. “And smart, too. She’s starting college in the fall, and she’s going to major in business, with a minor in women’s studies.”
He glanced at the pictures again. He didn’t know what women’s studies entailed, other than a connection to feminism, but he was eager to know more about Kaley’s interest in it and what sort of career she envisioned. “Where at?”
“UCLA. She was raised in L.A. All of these years she was close by, and I didn’t even know it.”
Ryan’s whereabouts put him hundreds of miles away from the reunion loop. “When am I going to get to meet her?”
Victoria shifted in her chair. “Are you sure you’re ready? That you won’t back out at the last minute?”
He deserved that. If he were in her shoes, he would have said the same thing. But it still stung. “I’ve grown up since we last saw each other.”
“I’m aware of how old you are.”
“I wasn’t talking about my chronological age, Tore.”
“Yes, but time doesn’t necessarily change people.” Her voice cracked a little. “And please don’t call me Tore.”
The vulnerability in her tone shamed him. He hadn’t meant to use his old nickname for her. He hadn’t meant for it to slip so easily from his tongue.
“I’m sorry,” he said, knowing those words did little or nothing to absolve him. “I don’t want to make this any harder than it already is. But I have changed, and I want to get to know my daughter.” He would come through this time.
A beat of painful silence passed before she responded, “I’m glad that you want to get to know her, but there’s a lot to consider. Kaley is searching for missing links in her identity. This is as much about her as it is about you.”
He braved the question he hated to address. “Does she know about me not showing up at the hospital?”
“No. She’s inquisitive about the past, but that isn’t something I was able to summon the strength to tell her.”
Because old wounds ran deep, he thought, wishing he could comfort Victoria somehow.
She quietly added, “She asked me about the day she was born. If I saw her before the adoption agency took her away. I told her that I did and that I held her, too.”
“She didn’t ask about me?”
Victoria shook her head. “I think she automatically assumed you were part of it since you were my boyfriend at the time and not just some random guy who made me pregnant.”
That made him feel worse. “Do you think I should tell her the truth?”
Her tone remained quiet. “That’s up to you.”
“I think I should.” He just hoped that he could explain his actions in way that made sense. Even after all of these years, he couldn’t quite define his panic, aside from him being a teenage boy who’d been afraid to face the final countdown.
Would that reason be enough for Kaley?
Anxious to know more about her and how she was raised, he asked, “What are her adoptive parents like?”
“Her mother passed away about seven years ago. From what I understand, she was an amazing woman. Kaley’s identity quest has a lot to do with her.”
His heart went out to his daughter. His mother died when he was a kid, too. “And the dad?”
“Eric is a wonderful father. They’re extremely close. He supports her in every way. I’ve become close to him, too.”
He felt a stab of envy, but he said, “That’s good.”
Victoria continued by saying, “He’s half-Native, like you are. Kaley doesn’t look adopted. She looks as if she could be his. She even speaks a little Cherokee. That’s the tribe he’s from.”
He was still holding pictures of the child he’d helped create. The child another man had nurtured. Apparently Eric was ingrained in his roots. Ryan didn’t know much his about Native side. In his case, it was Paiute. But he’d been raised by his Anglo father. “I expected Kaley to have at least one Native parent.” There was a federal act that stipulated that Native babies were supposed to be adopted within their culture. “It’s nice that she speaks some Cherokee.”
“She speaks Spanish, too. She took it all through high school. She’s good with languages.”
“I’d really like to meet her, and I swear I’ll do my best not to disappoint her.”
Victoria studied him from across the coffee table, and he absorbed her scrutiny, all the way to his anxious soul.
After an audible breath, she conceded. “She’ll be out of school soon on summer break next week. We can figure something out then.”
“That would be great. I’d love for her to visit. Maybe she could stay for a week or so. You could come with her, if that would make her more comfortable. In fact, you could both stay here.”
Her eyes went wide. “Here? In your house?”
“Why not? I’ve got plenty of room. Besides, the nearest motel is clear out on the highway, as you well know. My house is more convenient.” He chanced an intimate remark, needing to know, needing to mention it. “If you have a significant other, you can invite him, too.”
She lifted her chin in what struck him as false bravado. He waited to see what her answer would be, a look of shattered innocence pulsing between them.
Then she said, “I’m not involved with anyone. I prefer being single.”
He told himself that her status didn’t matter. Nor did her uneasy
