get out there,” he said, catching Renata’s confused look before he pushed through the kitchen door and down the hall.
He spied Widow Riley the same time Tandy did, and froze. In the week since little Pearl’s mother had placed her in his arms and left, since he’d learned he was a father, Click felt like he’d been driving ninety miles an hour down an endless pitch-black highway. Now Click realized that highway led him here, toward a horrible, inescapable collision. When Widow Riley had offered to rock Pearl while she slept, he didn’t resist. Widow Riley had experience and confidence, two things he lacked when it came to babies. But seeing the old woman rock his baby girl, while Tandy approached—wearing her sweetest smile—had his stomach in knots.
“Who is this little doll?” Tandy asked.
Click braced for impact. He forced himself to move, to think, to remain calm. He’d loved Tandy since he was seven years old. It was one of the few constants in his life. That didn’t mean she gave a damn about him. Still, his daughter’s presence, her age, was bound to wound her deeply.
“This little angel is Pearl,” Widow Riley said, still rocking. “Isn’t she precious?”
Tandy placed her tray on the side table and crouched by the rocking chair. “She is that.”
Click looked at his daughter. She was beautiful. She was also small, fragile and just as confused by his presence as he was by hers. The difference was, he was supposed to be responsible for Pearl.
“How old is she?” Tandy asked, her finger tracing one round cheek.
Widow Riley looked at him for the answer.
“Fourteen months.” Click cleared his throat, his heart shuddering.
Tandy jumped up and knocked the tray, sending the remaining cake plates to the ground. He stooped to help her when Pearl started to wail. Pearl—his daughter and his obligation. He reached awkwardly for the baby girl, her slight weight in his arms still alien.
As far as babies went, she was pretty easy. She didn’t cry often, and when she did, a few pats on the back seemed to calm her. A fact Click was thankful for. Chances were, he’d fought back more tears this week than Pearl had. He held her now, whispering to her softly, fully aware that all eyes were on him.
Again.
Seemed like his branch of the Hales couldn’t turn up in Fort Kyle without causing an uproar. Not him so much, but his parents. This time, it was on him. Not that he gave a damn about what these people thought—not at the moment. The only person he owed any explanation to was on her knees, cleaning up cake and china from Lynnie’s hardwood floors.
He’d imagined a dozen scenarios for their reunion. None of them included a funeral or a baby. Shame burned his face and neck. He couldn’t bring himself to look at Tandy. He couldn’t.
“She’s yours?” Renata asked, kneeling to help Tandy.
He nodded, his throat too tight to speak.
The congratulations that followed were a surprise. For years, his presence had been greeted with judgment and gossip. He was no longer a child, but history had his defenses up. Lynnie had been his champion, shushing the whispers and gossip his sudden arrival on her doorstep was sure to kick up. What he wouldn’t give to have her here now.
Never in his life had he felt so damn alone.
Pearl hiccuped, sniffed and burrowed against his shoulder. He held her, his hand spanning the width of her back as he cradled her close. “It’s okay, Pearl,” he whispered, patting her.
“She’s beautiful.” Tandy’s words drew his attention. She was stacking the last of the china on the tray, her hands shaking and her gaze averted.
“Thank you.” The words were gruff and hard.
Pearl looked up at him, her light brown eyes full of tears, and her lips drawn into a frown.
“Hey,” he whispered, her expression softening his agitation. The world was scary enough without being frightened of your father. He knew the nightmare that was. He’d never be that man, never make his child cower in fear or cry from physical pain. Dammit. He forced a smile and wiped the tears from her soft cheeks. “No tears, baby girl.”
Pearl blinked, her instant smile unnerving him. She shouldn’t smile at him like that, like she trusted him. Like she could rely on him.
Tandy all but ran from the room, that tray rattling with broken china. Try as he might, he couldn’t stop his gaze from trailing after her. But he stood his ground, bouncing his daughter in his arm.
“Click.” Scarlett was all smiles, transfixed by the temptation of his baby daughter. Pearl had some sort of magical power, attracting women and making even the meanest sons of bitches smile. “When did you get here? Where’d you come from? A baby? Wow.”
He glanced at his watch, deciding now was not the time to open the door on questions. He answered one. “Ten minutes ago. Hate that we missed the funeral.” Traveling with a baby was no picnic. Not that he blamed her. Being strapped into that car seat looked pretty damn uncomfortable. Truth is, they’d sat in the truck through the funeral. He followed the procession to the cemetery but hadn’t been able to get out of the car. Men didn’t cry in public. He was confident Lynnie would understand.
He’d driven his trailer to the back of Lynnie’s place and unloaded the horses into the far pasture—doing it all so he could delay this. “Pearl...” He broke off and shrugged, hoping that would be all the explanation needed.
He was worn out, emotionally and physically. The house was too crowded, the people too loud and curious. After he fed and changed Pearl, he wanted peace and quiet, a shower, a beer and a soft bed. If he was lucky, he could forget the mess his life was.
Tandy washed every dish in Lynnie’s kitchen. She cleaned out the refrigerator and swept and mopped the floor. She was hiding. She knew it and she didn’t care. Until her cousins were ready to go, this was where she would stay. Cleaning was how she processed.
And dammit, she had so much to process.
She’d known seeing Click would be hard. But their past had nothing to do with losing Lynnie. And then... Today had been beyond expectation. He...he was a father.
Fourteen months.
If her heart hadn’t already been shredded, this would have done it.
She’d told him to move on. And he had.
Wasted no time.
Fourteen months. Their time together hadn’t been as special as she’d thought—to him anyway. He’d waited, what, weeks? That baby was evidence of that. She’d been catatonic, consumed by sadness. And guilt—guilt that chipped away what was left of her heart.
He’d been in bed with someone—
She couldn’t think about it, couldn’t stand it. It hurt. Deep, raw and angry.
“You’re exhausting,” Renata said, having planted herself on a kitchen stool seconds before.
Tandy smiled, rinsing out the sponge.
“I say we go get drunk,” Renata said. “It’s the only option.”
Tandy shot her a look. “How do you figure that?”
“My brain can’t stop spinning. I can only imagine what’s going through yours.” Renata’s blue eyes met hers.
She was pretty sure alcohol wasn’t going to fix a thing. Still, she knew her heart wasn’t the only one hurting right now. “Scarlett’s okay with it?” she asked.
“She will be.” Renata winked.
Tandy shook her head and carried the mop bucket out the back screen