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His Secret Daughter Page 2


  Maisie ran the green tractor over the circular rag rug. “Me big-gull bed.” She arched her tiny eyebrow at her father. “No mow cwib.”

  Jake cocked his head. “What, Maisie?”

  Callie smiled. “She’s been after us to take her out of the crib and get her a big-girl bed.”

  He leaned on his elbows. “But you don’t think it’s a good idea?”

  “We’ve been so busy getting the orchard ready for harvest, I haven’t had time to look into it. Maybe soon, though.”

  He nodded and his focus returned to his daughter.

  Despite his short military haircut, she could imagine how his dirty-blond hair could’ve easily been the same buttery blond as his daughter’s when he was her age. Awe shone out of his eyes as he gazed at Maisie. And, when he glanced over to Callie, gratitude, also.

  “Maybe you should go over her schedule with me, Callie.”

  She blinked. Her heart pounded. Not yet. She wasn’t ready. Although would she ever be ready to relinquish Maisie?

  Was Jake the father Maisie needed? Callie had had him investigated before contacting the military after Tiff died.

  From humble beginnings in Texas, Jake McAbee had joined the army right out of high school, where he’d excelled in almost every sport. An excellence he brought to the army, serving his country with distinction.

  He was a three-tour combat veteran, well spoken of by his commanding officers and the men with whom he served. By all accounts, he was a good man who hadn’t deserved what Tiff had done to him.

  Callie closed her eyes. There she went again. But Tiff had made poor choice after poor choice as long as Callie had known her.

  Perhaps one of Tiff’s biggest mistakes had been filing divorce on her young husband of two months while Jake was deployed.

  “Uh, Callie?”

  She opened her eyes.

  “I booked a motel room tonight in Asheville. I didn’t want to drive over the mountains in the dark on unfamiliar roads.”

  Ready or not, Jake was Maisie’s father. She’d hoped to convince him to stay the night at the orchard to give Maisie more time to adjust. But Asheville wasn’t far. She was on shaky ground here. If she pushed too hard, too soon...

  “I’ve packed her clothes.” Callie rose. “And most of her toys.”

  His lips curved, and something like the sweep of butterfly wings fluttered in her belly.

  Jake gestured at the living room. “She’s got more than this?”

  Callie gave him a small smile. “You, Sergeant, have a lot to learn about girls.”

  The light dimmed in his eyes, and his mouth flattened. “I think Tiffany walking out on me underscores how little I actually know about women.”

  “Jake, I didn’t mean—”

  He rose abruptly. “But I’m a quick learner.” His broad shoulders tapered to the narrow waist above his jeans.

  The clean, spicy scent of his male presence robbed Callie of coherent thought. This was ridiculous. A person would think she’d never been around a man before.

  Although none so...so male as Jake McAbee.

  “Callie?”

  She jerked.

  “Maisie’s schedule?”

  She seized on the first thing that came to her mind—food. “Maisie usually has a snack around this time. Goldfish.”

  Maisie’s head popped up over the wooden barn. “Fish?”

  Callie nodded. “And apple juice.”

  Maisie smiled, wrenching Callie’s heart. “’Appy juice.”

  “Happy juice, huh?” He gave Callie a grudging smile. “What else at Apple Valley Farm?”

  Strolling into the adjacent kitchen, she poured the juice into a sippy cup. “Apple juice makes everyone happy.”

  Maisie stood beside the farmhouse table, waiting to be hoisted into her booster seat, strapped to one of the chairs. The booster was yet another item Callie had forgotten to pack. Maisie’s possessions were scattered throughout the house, blending in with the other furnishings. Belonging.

  Jake raised his hands to lift Maisie into the booster seat, but stopped short of touching her. His brow scrunched. “Will she let me put her in the seat?”

  Callie took a deep breath. Now for the test. “Let’s try.” She injected an over-the-top note of cheer into her voice. “Can Daddy put you in your big-girl seat, Maisie?”

  There was a long second where Callie held her breath. Probably Jake, too.

  “’Kay.”

  The relief on his face was poignant. Callie’s head insisted this was the best possible outcome. But her heart...?

  Maisie held her arms up to her father. And as if afraid he’d break her, he gingerly lifted his daughter.

  For a fraction of a heartbeat, he held her against himself, breathing in the little-girl fragrance of his daughter. The fresh-out-of-the-bath, baby-shampoo smell. A scent that, after today, Callie would never know again. Sudden tears blinded her, and she spilled some of the apple juice on the counter. After that split-second pause, just as gently, Jake deposited Maisie into the booster seat. Flustered, Callie carried the green sippy cup to Maisie.

  “Daddy wikes gween.” Maisie quirked her eyebrow. “Wight, Cawee?”

  Jake’s eyes cut to her.

  She flushed. “That’s right, Maisie. Your daddy’s favorite color is green.”

  “I’m surprised Tiffany remembered. Did she ever talk to you about me? Did she ever explain why—” His voice went hollow.

  “Only bits and pieces.” She moistened her bottom lip. If she wasn’t careful, she’d become like Tiff—a liar. “I’m sorry, Jake.”

  “You have absolutely nothing to be sorry about, Callie.” There was pain in his voice. In his eyes, too.

  But she was sorry. At the moment, sorry that she’d done the right thing in contacting Jake McAbee. There had to be something—anything—she could do or say to make him change his mind about taking Maisie away.

  She took hold of his arm. At the touch of his skin against hers, something sparked. A tingling sensation ran from her hand up to her elbow. She drew back.

  “Please, Jake,” she whispered. “Please don’t take Maisie from the only home she’s ever known.”

  His blue eyes flickered. “She and I will make a new home together.”

  Callie’s gut tightened. “I’m begging you to think of what’s best for Maisie, Jake.”

  His face went hard. “I am thinking of what’s best for Maisie.”

  At the sound of her name, Maisie looked up, the cup spout between her lips.

  “Being with her father is what’s best for Maisie,” he growled.

  Callie grabbed on to the spindles of the chair. “But where are you taking her, Jake?”

  His eyes narrowed. “A friend in Houston is hiring workers for an oil rig.”

  “Texas?” She’d been thinking, hoping, maybe he’d settle nearby. “What do you plan to do with her while you’re out on an oil rig for days at a time?”

  A muscle ticked in his cheek. “I’ll make sure she’s safe and cared for.” The look he gave Callie wasn’t friendly. “But I won’t let anyone ever keep me from my daughter again. She’s mine.”

  Despite common sense telling Callie she needed to let this go, she couldn’t. Not for Maisie’s sake. Not for her own.

  “Maisie isn’t a thing to be possessed, Jake. She doesn’t know you. If you leave now she’s going to be scared. You could damage your relationship with her for good.”

  He went completely still. This man was a soldier. He could be dangerous, especially to anyone he perceived as a threat. But she couldn’t stop now, not when Maisie’s well-being hung in the balance.

  “We could visit you in Houston over Christmas. Let Maisie learn to trust you—love you—in her own way and time. Please, I’m begging you to do the right thing.”

  Suc
king in a breath, he crossed his arms over his well-muscled chest. “The right thing?”

  At the anger lacing their raised voices, Maisie let out a whimper.

  His jaw jutted. “How dare you lecture me on the right thing. How long have you known I was Maisie’s father?”

  She dropped her eyes, not able to meet his gaze. “Since Tiff filled out the birth certificate.”

  He loomed over Maisie, getting in Callie’s space. “And how hard did you try to convince Tiffany to do the right thing by me?” He was so close his breath fanned her face.

  She stood her ground, not giving an inch. Maisie’s future was at stake. And everyone’s happiness. Everyone, except Jake? She hardened her heart. She couldn’t let him take Maisie.

  “Tiff wouldn’t listen.”

  He gave a short bark of a laugh. More bitter disillusionment than mirth. “Why doesn’t that surprise me?”

  Maisie’s big blue eyes ping-ponged between them. “Cawee?” Her bottom lip trembled.

  “You’re already scaring her.” She placed her hand on Maisie’s shoulder and curled her lip. “What kind of father does that, Jake McAbee?”

  Something flashed across his face, something raw, evoking a reluctant compassion in her tender heart. But she mustn’t weaken. “I won’t let you take her.” She gritted her teeth.

  “You can’t stop me,” he growled. “I’m within my parental rights, and you know it.” In a swift, unexpected move, he lifted Maisie out of the booster seat.

  Maisie and Callie cried out at the same time.

  “I’ll figure everything out as I go.” Clasping the squirming child close, he strode toward the hall. “We’re leaving.”

  “No, Jake. Stop.” Callie ran after him. “Don’t leave this way. She won’t understand.”

  Maisie’s little arms grasped the air over his shoulder, stretching toward Callie. “Cawee! Cawee!”

  He flung open the door. Leaning against the porch railing, her father startled at the commotion.

  Callie’s chest heaved. “Dad, don’t let him take her.”

  Her father’s features sagged. “She’s his child, Callie. Not ours.”

  Jake rushed down the steps. Like a wild thing, Maisie thrashed in his arms.

  Callie plunged after them. But catching her around the waist, her father held Callie on the porch. “Don’t make this worse, honey.”

  She didn’t see how this could be much worse. She strained against her father’s grasp. “Maisie!”

  How had it come to this? How had this escalated so far out of control? God, where are You?

  Chapter Two

  Somehow Jake managed to wrangle his daughter into the car seat Nash had secured in the truck cab.

  “Cawee!” she shrieked. “Cawee!”

  He flinched but made sure the buckles clicked in place. Rounding the hood, he slid behind the wheel and cranked the engine. Nausea roiled in his stomach.

  This wasn’t the way he’d wanted things to go, but Callie’s words had touched a nerve. He would show them all. He would be the best dad Maisie never had. He wouldn’t desert her or belittle her like his father—

  Jake threw the truck into gear, glancing at the house in the rearview mirror. Seeing Nash Jackson’s arm draped around her, Callie weeping, almost broke Jake. He’d never wanted to hurt her. This was killing her. He was killing her.

  Tears streaming across her cheeks, she sank onto the porch step. And the last thing he glimpsed before the truck sped over the rise was Callie burying her face in her hands.

  Gritting his teeth, he barreled past the shuttered country store and set his face forward toward the road beyond the crossbars of the farm. In the seat behind him, Maisie’s cries had subsided into heart-wrenching, hopeless sobs.

  “No, D-Daddy,” she hiccupped. “Bad, bad Daddy.”

  Jake slammed on the brakes, spinning gravel. Bad daddy. Like his father. Though he’d promised himself he’d never do anything to hurt his child.

  He pressed his forehead against the wheel. What was he doing? What had he done to his daughter except terrify her? Callie was right.

  No matter how much he wanted to be her dad, he couldn’t tear Maisie away from the only home she’d ever known. From everything that made her feel safe. From everyone who loved her. He didn’t have it in him to put his rights over Maisie’s happiness. Not if he truly loved Maisie...

  Jake loved her more than himself, loved her the way no one in his life had ever loved him. A soul-deep kind of love, impossible to ever find. But that had never stopped him from hungering for it anyway.

  He couldn’t do this to Maisie. Not this way. Not now.

  For the second time that day, he turned the truck around. He parked once more beside the blue Chevy sedan. The Jacksons hadn’t moved from the porch. They stared at him, mute and motionless. Shoulders hunched, he stepped out and rounded the hood. Opening the truck door, he leaned in, but Maisie shrank from him.

  And his heart broke.

  He steeled himself to do the hard thing, the right thing, for Maisie. She was the only one who mattered in this situation. As for him? Like always, he’d do his mourning in private.

  Jake made short work of the buckles. Maisie stiffened when he lifted her out of the seat. Nevertheless, with his daughter cradled in his arms, like an old man, he stumbled toward the Jacksons. When he reached the steps, Callie rose, and he gave his daughter to her.

  His child—no, Callie’s child—burrowed into her. With small, sniffling noises, Maisie pressed her face into the hollow of Callie’s shoulder.

  “Oh, Maisie, sweetheart. Callie’s here. Don’t cry.”

  “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have taken her like that.” His voice guttural, he kept his gaze pinned on the grass. “I won’t ever bother you again. Maisie belongs here with you, not with me. I’ll send money. I—I won’t be a deadbeat dad.” Clamping his lips together, he started to turn away.

  “Wait. Jake.”

  Midmotion, he froze.

  “Don’t go.” Callie stretched out her hand to him. “Please stay.”

  “Callie Girl, what are you doing?” Nash grunted.

  “It—it’s not right, him leaving. I can’t let it end this way.”

  Nash’s gaze flickered between Jake and his daughter.

  Jake steeled himself against the whisper of hope unfurling inside his chest. “I don’t understand. I figured you couldn’t wait to be rid of me for good. What are you saying?”

  “I’m asking you to stay on the farm.” She lifted her chin. “A temporary arrangement so that you and Maisie can become better acquainted. Where she feels comfortable and safe.”

  “Why would you want me to stay?” Jake frowned. “After what I did.”

  Maisie shrank away from him as Callie closed the distance between them on the grass. “Because maybe if Tiff had had a dad who...” She moistened her lips. “I won’t allow history to repeat itself. A girl needs her father, Jake.”

  She shifted Maisie onto the crook of her other arm as the child almost strangled Callie in her effort to stay as far from Jake as possible.

  Anguish clawed at his insides, but he was going to have to learn to live with the gnawing pain of having lost his daughter. As he’d learned to live with the pain of Tiffany’s rejection.

  “What would be the point, Callie? Maisie will never trust me again.”

  She touched his arm, surprising him. And myriad emotions exploded in his chest, feelings he didn’t care to examine too closely. After the way he’d failed Tiffany and now Maisie, too, these were emotions he had no business feeling.

  “Trust can be rebuilt, Jake. You and Maisie need time.”

  He shook his head. “Time is something I don’t have. Exactly what are you suggesting? I have to find work.”

  “Apple harvest has just begun...” Her gaze darted to her father. �
�You need help in the orchard. Right, Dad?”

  Nash’s face had become unreadable, but finally he nodded. “I haven’t fully regained my stamina after being hospitalized for pneumonia last winter.”

  The smile she threw her father caused Jake’s gut to clench. It was a smile Jake in no way deserved or could ever hope to receive from his own daughter.

  Nash folded his arms across his chest. “Gala and Honeycrisp apples come off first. We open the farm to the public this weekend for Labor Day.”

  “I don’t have many job skills suited for civilian life.” Jake ground his teeth. “But I won’t take charity.”

  “No charity here.” Nash jutted his jaw. “It’s hard, honest work. We’re slammed with visitors during harvest season. The orchard is more than Callie and I can handle alone.”

  She took another step in Jake’s direction. “We could use your help. Julio, Dad’s right-hand man for over a decade, recently moved east to be near his grandchildren.”

  Despite his ingrained defenses, hope took slow root in his heart. “Let me make sure I understand this deal you’re offering me. I work the harvest and in exchange, I get to spend more time with Maisie?”

  She bit her lip. “Please, Jake. For Maisie’s sake. And yours.”

  He widened his stance. “And, after that, you’d want me to leave.”

  Callie narrowed her eyes at him. “Like I said, a temporary arrangement.”

  Staying would mean inevitable heartache once the harvest was over, yet how could he refuse a second chance with his daughter? He longed for nothing more than to know his child.

  “How much time are we talking about here?” He raked his hand over his head. “I can’t put my buddy off forever.”

  “By Thanksgiving, apple season is over, and Maisie will have gotten used to you.” Callie threw him a dazzling smile, momentarily blinding Jake. “You’ll see. Children forgive and forget far easier than grown-ups.”

  Tucked into the curve of Callie’s neck, Maisie regarded him with accusatory eyes.

  Oh, how he hoped Callie was right. He prayed she was right. Pray—something he should’ve done before grabbing his child.

  His stomach knotted. “If you’re sure...”