A Daughter's Trust Page 11

  Rick wanted to nod. And thought of Hannah. Of all he’d already lost. Of all that her death had cost him, and what loving his daughter had taught him. There were no guarantees. And sometimes the hurt was unbearable.

  Still, if he had it to do over again, even knowing how it ended, he would do so in a heartbeat.

  “No.” His answer was definitive. As was his certainty that he still had to go, for now. He’d never use another baby, another person, to replace Hannah. His precious little girl would never be replaced. Not in six months, and not in sixty years.

  But that didn’t mean he couldn’t love and cherish another child.

  He headed straight to his Nitro. He was inside, key in the ignition and driving down the street, before he noticed the tears on his cheeks.

  Damn them.

  Damn them all.

  COUSIN JOE HADN’T PHONED. Hadn’t returned her calls. But on Friday Sue received a card from him. There were two kids pictured on the front, on a teeter-totter. A boy and a girl. The inside read simply, “Hang in there. Joe.”

  Boss Joe sent the next week’s work by courier with a note, written in Thea’s hand, telling Sue that other than payroll, there was no rush. And to call if she needed help with any of it.

  The only other men in her world that weekend, Michael and William, took turns beating up on her with middle-of-the-night cries. And middle-of-the-day cries. All three babies were recovering from the flu. For the past two nights, Sue had kept Carrie in bed with her.

  The little girl had had it the worst.

  And though the doctor, who’d made a house call, had told Sue not to worry, that everything would be fine, she didn’t relax.

  Carrie came from a legacy of pain. Sue wanted to see that change in this little girl’s generation.

  Rick called a couple of times. He’d wanted to see her again, to take her out on his friend’s boat for the afternoon, but with the babies sick, she hadn’t been able to leave. So they’d talked. About politics—they’d voted for the same candidate in the last election. About their first kisses when they were kids—he’d been ten, stole a kiss on the playground and been made to sit in the corner; she’d been thirteen, in a game of spin the bottle. They’d talked about food—they both loved scallops and hated squash.

  And they talked about sex. A lot. A lot of talk about a lot of sex. By the end of the weekend, Sue knew she was going to make love with him. If for no other reason than to get him off her mind. Not that she told him so.

  Other than the focus it took to tend to her charges, she couldn’t seem to think about anything these days but Rick Kraynick, and being naked with him.

  Based on the number of sex-filled conversations they’d had that weekend, he seemed to be suffering from the same mysterious illness. They had it bad.

  Throughout that long weekend, they never mentioned Hannah. Or Carrie’s future. Or the mother Rick refused to believe in even a little bit.

  The man had Sue’s sympathy. Her compassion. Her respect. Maybe more. But she hadn’t changed her mind about helping him. She couldn’t do anything to help Rick Kraynick. And wasn’t sure she would even if she could.

  She didn’t think it was a good idea to place a baby girl with a single man, most particularly one who was still in the early stages of grief.

  No matter how well grounded he appeared to be.

  William left on Monday. His birth mother, having a change of heart, had signed away her rights, and the agency already had a long list of approved homes waiting for her to do so. He’d been placed immediately.

  Which left Sue with only Michael and Carrie in her care. Left her free to meet Belle for a walk along the wharf Wednesday afternoon. A budding journalist, her cousin was in town for a job interview.

  Pushing the double stroller through crowds of tourists along the waterfront, Sue had barely seen her cousin before Belle grabbed the handle of the stroller and took over. “Sorry,” she said, with a glance at Sue. “Your babies always make me feel better.”

  “I know. Me, too. So what’s up?” Not that she didn’t already know. When Belle had that particularly pinched look, it meant only one thing. Her father was on the warpath.

  “Dad’s trying to appeal the will.”

  “Good luck with that one.”

  “I know, but he’s insisting he’ll spend whatever money necessary to see that it’s done.”

  “Why? It’s not like there’s any huge fortune.”

  “He wants the necklace.”

  “What for? He’s suddenly into sentimentality? Would your dad dare sell it?”

  “He says it belongs to him. Period. And he wants Adam’s share of the money, too.”

  “That’s ridiculous. He doesn’t even need the money. He’s gained a brother. Why can’t he just be happy with that?”

  “Dad’s ordered both Mom and me to stay away from Uncle Adam. We aren’t allowed to try to contact him, or to take any of his calls.”

  “Has he called, then?” Sue’s mother hadn’t said anything about it when they’d talked on Sunday.

  “No. Have you heard from Joe?”

  “Not really. Just a card. How about you?” Joe and Belle had never met before the day they’d discovered they were cousins.

  “I called him, left a message, but he didn’t phone back.”

  “Does your father know?”

  “Of course not. But I’m not going to obey him, Sue. He’s plain wrong. We have an uncle—and a cousin—that are as much family as the rest of us. Heck, more so to you, since Adam’s your mom’s full brother.”

  Yeah. Sue and Joe were more closely related than she and Belle were. And all these years Belle had been her only cousin.

  “Are you going to try to see Adam?”

  “I’d like to invite him to meet us for dinner. If you’ll come, that is.”

  “Just make sure it’s either somewhere where I can bring the brood, or give me enough notice to get a sitter. For that matter, you can invite him out to my place if you’d like. Invite Joe, too, if you want.”

  Maybe if Belle asked him he’d come. But then, he hadn’t responded to her calls, either.

  Her cousin expertly maneuvered the wide stroller around a group of people stopped in the middle of the walkway. “It’s going to piss Dad off royally if he finds out.”

  “And when have I ever been afraid of your father’s wrath?”

  “Never.” Belle smiled. “You have no idea how many times you’ve saved my sanity.”

  “He’s mostly bark.”

  At Belle’s silence, Sue frowned. “He’s not hitting your mother, is he?”

  “Not that I know of.” She shook her head. “No, I don’t think so. I mean, that would surprise even me. Personally, I think the mental cruelty is worse. It’s harder to see. To understand. Or to fix.”

  Not for the first time, Sue wondered just how badly the scars Belle kept hidden from her youth affected her. She had been talking about her mother, but it was obvious, to Sue at least, that Belle was also referring to herself. As far as she knew, Belle had never been in love. Never been able to trust a man with her heart. She’d lived with a guy for a while. A nice, steady guy who had bored her to tears.

  And then she’d been alone.

  Just like Sue.

  “I’ll handle your father if he finds out,” she said. “Set something up with Uncle Adam and let me know….”

  With a nod, Belle rolled the stroller up to a bench and spent her remaining minutes cooing to both babies. Garnering smiles from them.

  And, Sue was glad to see, allowing the little ones to coax smiles from her, too.

  A MESSAGE WAS WAITING for Rick when he got to work Wednesday morning. From his attorney. The stay had been granted without a formal hearing.

  “Yes!” Rick leapt up. Strode around his desk, returned and punched the replay button to hear the message again. He had to punch it a third time before he heard the rest.

  Rick was being considered as a potential adoptive parent for Carrie. He call
ed Welfare immediately,

  He’d have to go through extensive investigation, have a medical exam, submit his home to inspection, give proof of child care ability. The list was long. The requirements didn’t faze him a bit.

  Nor did the number that popped up on his cell phone just after his ten o’clock meeting regarding the following year’s teacher contracts. He took the call.

  “This is Rick.”

  “Ricky. I just heard from Sonia at the agency.”

  “Yeah, she said she’d be calling you.” He could have been more civil. Considering his recent victory.

  “Sonia said my April hearing date might be moved.”

  “The court date wasn’t for final approval, anyway,” he prevaricated. “It was just for placement in your home. It takes at least six months of successful parenting before they’ll make it final.” All things he’d found out that morning.

  “Right. But you know, once I have her home, they aren’t going to take her away.”

  She was right—until she screwed up.

  “So it’s true, Ricky, what Sonia says about you? You’re really going to try to get her yourself?”

  “That’s right.”

  “Do you think that’s wise? I mean, look at you, Ricky. A thirty-one-year-old man who’s never been married. What do you know about raising a child?”

  A helluva lot more than she did.

  “And what about child care? You’d have to drop her off with strangers every day. With my job at the day care, I can just take her with me.”

  He’d heard that from Sonia this morning. And from his attorney.

  He didn’t tell his mother what he’d told them. Mark’s wife, Darla, had kept Hannah. She’d agree to keep Carrie. He hoped.

  As soon as he informed his friends of his victory.

  They were going to worry about him.

  But Rick couldn’t allow himself to be swayed by doubts. It was time to move forward.

  “I’m her grandmother, Ricky. I was there when she was born. You don’t even know what her mother looked like—”

  “Whose fault was that?”

  “Come on, Ricky,” she said, a couple of silent seconds after his barb. “Little girls need mothering. Please don’t fight this. We can work together, me and you. I’ll give you whatever access to her you want. You can check up on me every day. Heck, as far as I’m concerned, we can all live together.”

  No. Never again. He’d left his mother’s house for the last time when he was seventeen. She’d been passed out, half-naked on the floor, in a pool of her own vomit. He’d vowed then that he was never—ever—going to step inside that woman’s home again.

  “If you’re the right one to have the baby, the agency will give her to you. If I am, I’ll get her.”

  If Carrie was going to have the hope of a safe and secure future, he had to get her.

  “Christy wanted me to have her.”

  “Christy didn’t know I existed.”

  “You’re mad at me.”

  “No, I’m not.” He’d passed mad about fifteen years ago.

  “You still haven’t forgiven me. You’re doing this to get back at me, but Carrie’s the one who’s going to be hurt. She needs a mother.”

  “Listen, I have to go. I’m running late.” It was the truth.

  “Okay. Just think about the three of us being a family, please…?”

  Thank God, he was finally immune to her begging.

  “I love you, Ricky.”

  “I…know.”

  Squeezing his phone shut, Rick caught a glimpse of the six-slot picture frame on his desk, filled with random shots of Hannah. And wondered for the first time about the secret he’d kept. Had it been fair to Hannah? Not letting her know that there was more than just him in their family?

  And fair to his mother? More importantly, to Christy? If Carrie’s birth had changed his mother, could Hannah’s have made a difference, too? In time to save his little sister?

  If he’d told his mother about Hannah, Christy would have known she had an older brother. Right there in town. She would have had another home to run to, instead of hanging out on the streets of downtown San Francisco.

  Had keeping his secret cost his baby sister her life?

  Not a breath of air moved in his office as he sat there. Voices could be heard, from afar, probably his secretary and the office manager. Their desks were closest to his door.

  Hannah had only been six when she’d left him. Still at the age where she thought he was perfect.

  The visual flashed again. The playground splayed with metal. A car so twisted it was unrecognizable. And his baby girl, the only victim…

  He’d recognized her shoe. Lying there in the grass.

  Rick stood, wiped impatiently at tears he’d hoped were dried up and went out to refill his coffee cup.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  SUE WAS WAITING for Rick when he left the administrative building Wednesday evening, her van in the slot next to his. She got out as he approached.

  He’d called her cell a couple of times that day. Left her a message that he needed to speak with her as soon as possible. He hadn’t heard back from her.

  She was in black pants instead of her usual jeans. And sandals instead of bare feet. Her hair was down around her shoulders.

  No woman should look so beautiful and seem so unaware of it. It was dangerous just putting that right out there to tempt a guy.

  He walked up to her and planted his mouth on hers, finding her tongue, tasting her as he had only once before, that night on the couch.

  But as he’d thought about doing ever since.

  “Have you been out?” he asked when he realized they were in the parking lot of his office, and he couldn’t just climb into the back of the van with her.

  She hadn’t said anything about having an appointment when they’d talked the night before.

  She nodded, and indicated the back seat of the van. “We met my cousin in town, yes. I didn’t hear your calls come through, and just got your message. They were asleep, so rather than going straight home and waking them, I thought I’d take a chance and stop by. What’s up?”

  Rick stepped closer for a better look inside. Specifically, at the car seats in the back—and the babies sleeping there. “There are only two of them. You had three.”

  “William’s gone.”

  He stopped. “Gone?”

  “His mother signed away her rights. A family had already been approved for him.” He waited for her voice to crack. For her to tear up. Sue just stood there.

  He’d known, of course, that Sue’s babies came and went.

  He’d just never followed through on the thought. Never considered that each time a child was placed, Sue had to lose a car seat.

  And a piece of her heart? Because her lack of obvious emotion didn’t fool him at all. Not anymore. Sue took her hurts to private places.

  “I’m supposed to be getting a set of twins tomorrow, or the next day,” she blurted with a cheer that seemed forced. “They’re six months old, born with addiction.”

  She sounded ready to take on the world. And save two more children. What an incredibly special woman she was.

  “My request for a stay was granted.” He was almost sorry to tell her his news now, because to her it would mean losing another child. One she’d had a long time. “I’m in the running to adopt Carrie.”

  Sue just stood there with a blank look on her face.

  “Say something.”

  “I…well…”

  “I promise you, this is the best thing for her,” he said, glancing toward the sleeping infants. In a matter of days he was going to have the right to visit one of them. To hold her and feed her and begin the process of becoming her father. “The system you believe in might work for most people, but it doesn’t work where my mother is concerned. I spoke to Sonia today.” Carrie’s social worker. “She tells me that in the state of California, there’s a fairly large percentage of adoptions by singles. Male and f
emale.”

  “Generally, single male adoptions involve adolescent male children.” Sue’s tone was bland. Like a professor giving a lecture.

  “I’m sorry, Sue.”

  “Sorry for what?” Hands clasped in front of her now, she looked up at him. Hard to believe this was the same woman who’d kissed him so passionately just moments before.

  “You’re disappointed. You don’t think Carrie belongs with me.”

  “I didn’t say that.”

  “Not in so many words.”

  “I just want her to be happy. If you’re the best choice for her, then I’m good with that.”

  “But you don’t think I am.”

  “I haven’t met your mother yet, Rick. But Sonia says she’s a lovely, caring woman. A changed woman. And if, when I meet her, I think she’s the best choice for Carrie, I’m going to tell the committee so.”

  “Understood.”

  He’d just have to do what he could to make sure, before that, Sue knew all sides of his mother. Not just the one that brought the house down every time.

  He brushed her hair away from her cheek, leaving his hand along her jaw, and stared for a moment at his skin touching hers. “You’re honest with me. I’m being honest with you. Let’s see where it leads us, okay?”

  Rubbing her face against his hand, Sue watched him. And then turned to kiss his palm.

  “Come over tonight?” she asked. “Later?”

  After the kids were in bed. She wasn’t giving him any head start with the niece he’d yet to hold.

  And he couldn’t be angry with her for standing by her principles.

  He couldn’t stay away, either.

  DRESSED IN NOTHING MORE than thin cotton pants and a red T-shirt, Sue was ready for seduction. She’d invited Rick over and it certainly wasn’t for dinner. She’d invited intimacy. She’d been making love to him on the phone night after night.

  She was hungry for him.

  And scared to death, too.

  Standing in her living room, watching for him through a crack in the curtains, she thought about calling and canceling. She had the best excuses in the world stashed in her spare bedroom.

  Babies.

  They could always be counted on to need something.