Sheri WhiteFeather

Lost and Found Father


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what did he want to think about?

      The day Victoria had moved away? After the baby was born, her parents had relocated to Los Angeles to give Victoria a fresh start. And now she was back in Oregon for the sole purpose of knocking at his front door.

      Cripes, he was nervous.

      Last week she’d called and told him about Kaley, making him an expectant father all over again.

      Apparently, six months ago, Victoria had contacted numerous adoption-reunion registries, hoping to find their daughter. Swiftly and miraculously, she had. Kaley, their eighteen-year-old daughter, had contacted some of the same registries, trying to locate her birth parents.

      According to Victoria, she and Kaley had gotten quite close. They’d formed a strong and steady bond. And now Kaley wanted to meet him, too.

      He was humbled and downright awed by his daughter’s interest in him. But it wasn’t happening today. Victoria wanted to see him first, to evaluate his sincerity, no doubt. He couldn’t blame her for being cautious, not after what he’d done.

      A snorting sound caught his attention, and he shifted his gaze to the bulldog curled up in the corner. If he didn’t know better, he would’ve thought the dog was mocking him. Beside the bulldog was a border collie, fast asleep. Ryan had a scatter of farm animals, too, that had more or less come with the house.

      He lived in an old farmhouse, surrounded by woods. On the same property was a carriage house that served as his veterinary clinic.

      He checked the clock again. Victoria was late.

      What if she changed her mind? What if she left him hanging? No, he thought. She wouldn’t do that. She would follow through for their daughter’s sake.

      Still, she’d been reluctant to discuss Kaley at length over the phone. He hadn’t even seen a picture. He’d asked Victoria to email a photo, but she said that she would bring some with her.

      He had all sorts of questions about Kaley. He wondered about Victoria, too. For all he knew she was married with other kids. Her husband might even be coming with her. He hadn’t queried her about her relationship status, and she hadn’t offered the information. He could have searched for her on Google to see what came up, but that would have made him feel like a stalker, so he’d let it be.

      As for himself, he’d told her that he was divorced and lived alone, letting her know there wasn’t anyone, aside from him, for Kaley to meet. Even Ryan’s dad was gone. He’d died a few years back. During the course of their limited conversation, she’d said she was sorry for his loss, and he’d asked about her parents, to which she’d replied, “They’re fine.” No other details were discussed.

      As he waited, his nervousness ratcheted up a notch. He didn’t know what to do with himself. He was afraid that he would screw up again somehow, say the wrong thing, do the wrong thing. He wanted so badly to make it up to Victoria. He hoped that she didn’t show up with a husband or significant other. Having another man there would infringe on the moment.

      Infringe on what moment? What was he expecting out of this, for Victoria to hug him and say it was okay? That she understood that he was just a kid back then? That was a lame excuse, and he damned well knew it. She’d been young and scared, too.

      Maybe he should have searched for her on Google. He would feel a whole lot better right now if he’d seen a recent picture of her on a social networking site or wherever. At least then she might not seem like as much of a stranger. He tried to envision how she was going to look today, but he drew a blank. All he could see was the sweet girl from his mixed-up youth. The girl whose peppermint kisses used to set his libido on fire, the girl—

      Ding-dong.

      The doorbell chimed, and he nearly leaped out of his skin. The dogs jumped up and barked, intensifying the frenzied feeling. He expelled the air in his lungs and hushed them.

      He answered the door and came face-to-face with Victoria. She was by herself, and she looked the same yet different. Her eyes were just as green, her complexion was just as fair, and her hair was the same fiery copper shade of red, only she wore it sleek and straight instead of in a riot of curls. The waiflike girl had become a sophisticated woman. Attired in a slim-fitting dress and high-heeled sandals, she boasted L.A. chic.

      His pulse pounded something fierce. He couldn’t stop staring, which was a totally improper thing to do. But she was staring at him, too. He’d matured as dramatically as she had. He was no longer a lanky boy. He stood before her as a rough-edged man with frown lines at the corners of his eyes.

      Breaking the silence, he said, “Come on in.”

      “Thank you.” Her voice was as polished as her appearance.

      As she crossed the threshold, the dogs waggled at her feet. They were trained not to jump on guests, but he could tell that they wanted to paw her.

      Victoria smiled, but not at Ryan. She was acknowledging the canines. Nonetheless, her smile struck familiarity, leaving him with a pang in the pit of his stomach.

      When she lifted her head, their gazes met and held once again. She glanced away first, and Ryan battled a string of emotion. Unable to curb his curiosity, he stole a peek at her left hand, which bore no trace of a ring. But that didn’t mean she wasn’t in a committed relationship. He would do well to remember that.

      “Have a seat.” He gestured to the 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.