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This time Parker gave in to the impulse and rose to his feet. He crossed the terrace to the waist-high stone wall that ran around the perimeter of the open area and stared out at the sea.
Stacey Ridgeway was dead. He probed his emotions and encountered compassion for her family, regret—always regret—for what he’d done and remorse because he wouldn’t have the chance to explain or apologize. No sadness or longing. He’d barely known her. If her twin sister hadn’t come calling, he would never have thought of her again.
“I’m sorry,” he said, turning toward Erin and leaning on the stone wall. “It must have been very difficult for you and your family.”
Erin nodded. “It was hard on me. Stacey was the only close relative I had.”
Wariness joined the other emotions. Wariness and a faint hint of cynicism. He was a wealthy man. He’d sold his software company a few years back for several million dollars. He continued to develop programs that earned him an embarrassingly high income. Erin Ridgeway wouldn’t be the first woman to come looking for a free ride.
“While I appreciate the tragedy of the situation, I’m not sure what it has to do with me,” he said, wondering how much this was going to cost him. Even if the woman in front of him never got a dime, lawyer fees were expensive.
Erin tried to take a sip of coffee, but her hands were shaking so badly, she could barely hold the mug. She set it down. “I know what you’re thinking,” she said, not meeting his gaze.
Somehow, he doubted that.
“It’s been so long,” she continued. “Why am I here now? The truth is, I didn’t know who you were until a few weeks ago. Stacey never told me your name. Before she died she said it was her fault and it wasn’t fair to bother you with the responsibility. I didn’t agree with her. But until I knew your name, I had no choice but to stay silent.” She looked at him then, her hazel eyes dark with pain.
“I was angry,” she told him. “At the mysterious man who’d ruined her life. At her for dying. At Christie for messing up my plans.”
“Who’s Christie?” he asked, not sure he understood what Erin was talking about or whether he believed her display of emotions. Were they genuine or was she a good actress?
She reached down and collected her small purse. After opening it, she pulled out a photograph. “My sister never told me anything, Mr. Hamiliton. Nothing about you or what had happened here. We were attending different colleges. I saw her for a few days that last summer when she came home from her internship here, but that was all. We didn’t spend Christmas break together. I realized later that she was avoiding me. She didn’t want me to know. I didn’t have a clue until the hospital called to say there were complications.”
His stomach clenched tight like a fist. Parker stared at her. Foreboding surrounded him and chilled the air. “What complications?”
Erin stood up and started toward him. When she was less than two feet away, she handed him the small picture. He took it without looking at it. He wanted to watch her face as she told him her story.
“What complications?” he repeated.
“My sister died of complications in childbirth. She was pregnant when she left here. The baby…Christie…is your daughter.”
A daughter? A child? His child?
Parker stared at her, hearing the words, absorbing their meaning, but not sure if they had any connection to him. A child. He had a child?
His gaze never left hers. Hazel eyes widened slightly. He watched the emotions race across her face. Confusion, compassion, fear. Why was she afraid? He wondered what she was seeing on his face. Most likely shock. That’s what he felt. Stunned shock, as if he’d plunged into an icy river and couldn’t catch his breath.
He struggled to remember that night with Stacey. Everything was a blur. Shame and guilt colored all the memories that hadn’t been erased by alcohol. He recalled enough to know they’d had sex. He’d taken her again and again, hoping the act would blot out the past, but it hadn’t. Instead he’d remembered everything and in doing so, he’d forgotten Stacey.
He hadn’t used protection because she’d said she was on the pill. Had she been lying? If so the child could be his.
Or Erin Ridgeway, if that was even her real name, could be trying an age-old scam to make a few dollars for herself.
“How do I know she’s mine?” he asked.
He expected her to get defensive and start talking about blood types and DNA as proof. Instead she motioned to the photo he was still holding.
“Just look at her. I always knew she didn’t look like Stacey or me. Now I see she gets her features from you. The eyes, the shape of the mouth, although I have to warn you, personality wise, she’s just as lively as my sister was.”
Still he resisted looking down. Maybe because he didn’t want to know. Maybe because, in his gut, he already knew the truth. Erin Ridgeway didn’t know how to lie well enough to pull off something like this. Everything she said was true, including the fact that he had a daughter.
He braced himself, tensing all his muscles before looking down. Even so, the picture caught him off guard. It was like taking a sucker punch to the belly. All his air rushed out and he fought against the need to double over.
The photo showed a small girl laughing in a park somewhere. She wasn’t looking at the camera, instead the snapshot had caught her in a moment of childish joy. Her arms were in the air, one knee was raised as if she was skipping or jumping. Her hair, in pigtails, flew out behind her. Sunlight illuminated the area, making the trees glow as if lit from within.
He cataloged all that information quickly, almost unconsciously, then he turned his attention to the child’s face. Her eyes crinkled with amusement, but he could still see the shape. Her mouth was open wide with laughter, but he knew what she would look like if she smiled. There was something familiar about the way she held her head.
He recognized her.
“How old is she?” he asked, his voice hoarse.
“She turned four in early May.” Erin stared at him. “Are you all right?”
He shook his head. “Not really.” He continued to stare at the picture, memorizing it.
“I guess this is sort of a shock.”
He glanced at her and forced himself to give her a smile. “That’s an understatement.” He returned his attention to the photo. “I never knew about her.” He’d never sensed her presence in the world. That didn’t seem possible. His child had existed for over four years, and he hadn’t had a clue.
“I’m sorry,” Erin said. “I would have come sooner, but as I already told you, Stacey never told me who you were. When she passed away, I asked a friend to pack up her room at home. All these years I never thought to check her personal papers.” She shook her head. “I should have. I only found out about you recently because I was packing up to move and I finally went through her things. I found her diary and in it she mentioned your name.”
He wondered what else she’d mentioned, then figured it wasn’t important. The past was over. All that mattered was the child.
“Where is Christie now?” he asked. Christie. The name was unfamiliar on his tongue, but he liked it. Had Stacey had the chance to name her daughter before she died or had Erin chosen the name.
“At our motel. We’re staying in town.”
He frowned. “You left her alone?”
“No.” Erin smiled. “I drove up with a friend. Joyce is watching her.”
He supposed she’d come for money. Child support. A college fund. He opened his mouth to say all that would be arranged. He wouldn’t ignore his responsibilities. Instead he blurted out, “I want to meet her.”
Erin’s hazel eyes darkened with pleasure. The dimple in her cheek deepened. “I’m glad,” she said. “I didn’t tell her why we were up here. I wasn’t sure what you would say or if you would even believe me.”
“This kind of proof is difficult to ignore.” He shook the picture.
“But I wasn’t sure she looked like you. She could have taken after another relative.”
“But she didn’t.” He studied the photograph again, marveling that she really existed. “When can I see her?”
Erin pushed up the sleeve of her cream sweater and glanced at her watch. “It’s nearly eleven now. What if I bring her back at two o’clock?”
Three hours. It felt like a lifetime. “Sure.”
“Great.” Erin started for the small table. She collected her purse, then nodded at the picture. “Would you like to keep that?”
His hold on the photo tightened. “Yes. Thank you.” He followed her to the front door. “Do you know how to get to town?”
“I have the map I used to find my way here. I’ll be fine.” She glanced up at him. The top of her head was an inch or so shy of his chin. “I’m glad you want to meet her, Parker. She’s a wonderful little girl. Very outgoing, friendly, she’s almost never shy. Do you want me to explain things to her before we get here?”
Things? “You mean tell her that I’m her father?”
“I—” She cleared her throat. “She’s always wanted one, a daddy, as she says. I thought it might be easier to try to answer her questions before she met you, but if you would prefer to do it yourself—”
“No,” he said quickly. “Go ahead and tell her what you think is best.”
“I’ll make sure she realizes you didn’t know about her until today.”
Now it was his turn to hesitate. “Thank you,” he said. “You’re being very understanding about this. I’m still a little stunned.”
“Why wouldn’t you be? A perfect stranger waltzes into your home and tells you that you have a child you never knew existed. I appreciate how well you’re handling the situation.”
They stared at each other. Parker knew she was wrong about one thing. She wasn’t a perfect stranger. He knew very little about her personality, but he was familiar with her looks. It was almost eerie, staring at Stacey’s face but knowing Stacey was gone. He didn’t remember her well enough to be able to pick out the subtle differences in their features, assuming there were any.
Erin’s hair was shorter, barely brushing her shoulders. Stacey’s had fallen nearly to her waist. A tactile memory flashed through his mind. The feel of silky hair being crushed between his eager fingers. He pushed it away, along with the guilt.
He studied her small nose and wide mouth. The latter curled up into a smile and the dimple formed on her right cheek. “We’ll see you at two,” she said.
“I look forward to it.”
He watched her walk to her car. It was a white four-door sedan, probably five years old. Sensible rather than flashy. As soon as she started the engine and drove away, he realized how many questions had gone unasked and unanswered. Was Erin married? He tried to remember if she’d worn a wedding ring. Had she officially adopted Christie after Stacey’s death? What was she going to tell the little girl about him?
A faint noise caught his attention. He closed the door and turned around. Kiki was standing in the middle of the foyer. Her blue eyes danced with excitement.
“So, what did she want?” Kiki asked, trying to act as if she didn’t already know.
“Don’t pretend you weren’t listening.”
Kiki wrinkled her nose as she battled her desire to protect her dignity by refusing to acknowledge her habit of eavesdropping and her need to share what she’d heard.
She clapped her hands together, then rushed toward him. Before he could step back, she’d grasped his upper arms and squeezed tight.
“This is almost as much fun as having a grandchild of my own living here. This old house needs some life and laughter, and you need something to distract you from those silly old computers.”
“Wait a minute.” He raised his hands as if to ward off her words. “No one said anything about moving in. I’m going to meet Christie—”
“Christie. Is that her name? I couldn’t hear everything you two were saying.”
“Next time we’ll talk louder,” he said dryly.
Kiki ignored him. She released his arms, patted his face, then spun away and began making plans. “I’ll make some fresh cookies,” she said, and held out her left index finger. “Then lemonade.” The second finger went out. “Maybe ice cream. Hmm, I wonder if there’s time. Maybe if I start now, it will be finished by the time they come back. What time was that?”
“Two.”
She paced in front of him, a fuchsia-colored dynamo. “All those sweets might make her sick. Maybe some finger sandwiches.” She glanced up and grinned. The wrinkles around her eyes deepened. Kiki smiled a lot.
“I’ll think of something,” she said. “Trust me.” With that, she hurried toward the kitchen.
Parker watched her go. He glanced down at the picture in his hand. He was going to meet his daughter…the child he never knew he’d had. Stacey hadn’t told anyone he was the father. He couldn’t blame her, not after the way he’d treated her. No doubt she’d assumed he wouldn’t care.
Parker tucked the photo into his shirt pocket, then started for his office. The faint banging of pots and pans drifted through the house. Kiki would be so busy with her preparations, she would probably forget his lunch.
He stepped into his custom-designed workroom. He had three hours until Erin and Christie would arrive. He could work on the program that was giving him so much trouble. Instead he crossed to the wide windows and stared out at the ocean. He had the sensation of free-falling off a cliff. In a matter of moments, his whole life had changed.
For the first time in years, something stirred inside him. Interest, and maybe a little anticipation. He touched his shirt pocket and felt the flat paper of the photo. He had a child and she was coming to meet him.
Chapter Two
“Is he really my daddy?” Christie asked from the passenger seat.
“Yes, honey.”
Christie took a deep breath and let it out all at once, curling up her lower lip so the air rushed up her face and lifted her bangs. She giggled as the delicate hairs danced before settling back on her forehead.
“But he didn’t know he was my daddy before you told him today.”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because Stacey didn’t tell him about you.”
“And you didn’t know about him?”
“Right.”
“Couldn’t he see me when I was in her tummy?”
“Stacey left his house before you were big enough to see.”
“How did I get in her tummy?”
Erin gripped the steering wheel tightly and resisted the urge to groan. As if there wasn’t enough going on, now Christie wanted to talk about where babies came from.
“Oh, look, you can see the ocean,” she said enthusiastically, trying to distract Christie.
It worked. The four-year-old peered over the dashboard and grinned. “It’s blue and goes forever. Does the ocean end?”
“The water doesn’t stop in one place and start in another, but it gets a new name.”
Christie glanced up at her and wrinkled her nose. “The water has a name?”
“Uh-huh. It’s the Pacific Ocean.”
Christie mulled that over for a minute. Erin gave her a quick look. Her daughter had been asking questions from the moment she learned how to string words together. Her adventurous spirit was pure Stacey. Erin liked to think that Christie had gotten her quick intelligence from their side of the family as well, but after researching Parker Hamilton, she had to admit he probably had something to do with that.
He’d also given his daughter several of her physical characteristics, including the shape of her mouth and her smile. But her dimples were a Ridgeway legacy. Erin thought she and Christie moved the same way, and her daughter had the same habit of tilting her head to one side. Of course those traits could have been learned, not inherited.
