self-protective mechanism? A facade? If so, what had driven him to hide his real feelings?
War? Or his failed relationship with his wife, Callie’s childhood friend, Tiff? Maybe both. Though Tiff had hinted that Jake’s remoteness predated her ever meeting the young soldier stationed in Fayetteville.
No longer in uniform, he trembled slightly, swaying on the balls of his feet. Shirtsleeves rolled to his elbows revealed thickly corded forearms. His Adam’s apple bobbed above the open collar of his button-down, untucked shirt.
A shirt as blue as his eyes. As blue as Maisie’s. She glanced from the child to the man. The two of them were locked in a silent, long-overdue perusal of each other.
There could be no doubt Maisie belonged to Jake McAbee. The shape of her face. Underneath the bearded scruff on Jake’s jawline, a similar dimple in their chins. The nose.
Or was she merely seeing what she wanted to see?
She pushed aside her doubts about what Tiff had and hadn’t said. When Tiff had arrived at Apple Valley Farm she was already sick and pregnant. Callie had been by her side when Maisie was born. But in typical Tiff fashion, it had fallen to Callie to sort out the mess she’d left unfinished at her death a few months ago.
Jake’s name was on the birth certificate, but Tiff hadn’t always told the truth. Callie’s loyalty to her friend had warred with what was right. But she’d made it a lifetime habit to always do what was right. So after much prayer, she’d finally contacted Maisie’s father.
Still, she hadn’t figured on how doing the right thing would hurt so much. She cupped the crown of Maisie’s silken head in her palm. And now... She wasn’t sure how she was going to give Maisie up.
Jake went down on one knee. His eyes never left his daughter’s face, but he was careful not to touch Maisie.
He propped his arm on his thigh. “Hi, Maisie,” he rasped. “You are the most beautiful little girl I’ve ever seen.”
Callie’s heart warmed to the ex-soldier. Maisie was everything and more a parent could ever ask for. Smart and kind, a furious ball of energy.
Maisie let go of Callie’s legs. She immediately felt the loss of the child’s warmth, a harbinger of the future. She wrung her hands.
The little girl pointed her index finger to the photo of Jake on the bookcase. “My daddy?”
He choked off a half sob. “Yes, baby. I am your daddy, and I am so happy to finally meet you.”
Callie’s eyes misted. He loved Maisie. This was what she’d been hoping for, praying for, ever since she contacted the army. But her arms ached with a coming emptiness. Her heart was breaking.
This is the right thing, isn’t it, God? Her precious child would be all right. Won’t she, God? A girl needs her dad. Doesn’t she?
Maisie inched toward her beloved miniature barn. Reaching inside, she withdrew a tiny plastic farmer. Golden curls brushed Maisie’s shoulders as she held it out to Jake. “Pway with me?”
He stared at her a second, not realizing he’d been given an invitation. But when he did, he nearly fell over himself crawling to the barnyard.
Sinking onto the leather ottoman, Callie watched as they played together. Actually, Maisie played and Jake, her adoring servant, moved things where Maisie told him to put them. Maisie had already captured his heart.
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