Another Chance to Love You (8 page)

She glanced at Daniel. “You never talked about your dad when we were together. Was he really so indifferent to you?”

“Dad wasn’t big on honoring commitment,” he replied in a matter-of-fact tone. “Not to any of his wives. Not to his son. Not to his employers, either.” He didn’t sound bitter, just resigned to the truth of his statement.

She waited, instinctively knowing he would continue if she were patient.

“I always wondered if Dad would’ve been faithful to my mom if she’d lived long enough. Truth is, I don’t think so. Dad had a wandering eye, and not just with the ladies. He never liked to stay in one place very long. Couldn’t seem to keep a job longer than a year or two. The only reason he
didn’t sell the house I grew up in was because of my mother’s will. It was her folks’ place. She tied it up legally so Dad couldn’t sell it or borrow against it. I guess she must’ve known the truth about him, too.”

I wish you’d told me this years ago, Monica thought as she watched him. She suddenly understood many things she hadn’t understood before.

He met her gaze. “I was jealous of you and your parents.”

“You were?”

“Sure. The closest I came to having the same thing was with Stephanie. She was Dad’s fourth wife, the one who died with him in the car wreck. Stephanie was special. She tried extra hard to give me a good home, to be like a mom to me.” He shrugged. “But it was too late by then.”

“Were you ever tempted to get married?” Her voice fell to just above a whisper. “After me, I mean.”

He looked at the night sky, sipped his coffee, stroked Cotton’s head with his free hand. After a long while, he answered, “Once. I met a woman who was as career obsessed as me. Kit was her name. She traveled a lot. Her goal was to get a spot on network news. She’ll get it someday. She’s smart and pretty and has plenty of drive.”

Were you in love with her?

As if he’d heard the question, he turned toward Monica. “Maybe we were too much alike, Kit and I. Neither one of us invested much of ourselves in the relationship. We both stayed remote, emotionally, even after we decided to get married. Eventually we drifted apart.”

“How sad.”

One corner of his mouth lifted in a wry smile. “You know
what’s really sad? I kept comparing her to you. Kit never could measure up.”

Monica was caught off guard by his comment. She couldn’t have formed an intelligent reply if her life depended upon it.

Thankfully the moment was broken by the ringing of the telephone. Monica mumbled an apology, then hurried inside to answer it.

Before she could give a greeting, Doug Goodman’s voice interrupted her. “Fletch? Thank goodness you’re home.”

“What is it, Doug?” She could tell by his tone that something was wrong.

“The offices have been burglarized. It’s a real mess.”

“Burglarized?”

“The police are here now. You need to come down, Fletch.”

“Of course.” Her voice cracked over the words. She cleared her throat, then repeated, “Of course. I’ll be there as quick as I can. Doug, do they have any idea who—”

“Not yet. Listen, I’ve got to go. One of the officers needs to talk to me. Hurry.”

“I will.”

The line went dead.

Monica stared at the receiver a moment before returning it to its cradle. Burglarized? Her offices? How was that possible?

She heard the patio door close and turned around. Daniel watched her with a concerned gaze.

“What is it?” he asked.

“The office has been broken into. Doug needs me there right away. The police have questions.” Her heart pounded. Her head reeled with the news.

“Would you like me to come along? You could get your mother to stay with Heather, couldn’t you?”

It was tempting to have Daniel accompany her. But if she asked Ellen to stay with Heather, she would have to face another interrogation by her mother about Daniel. She wasn’t ready for that. It would be easier to face the police alone.

“No,” she answered at last. “I think it would be better if you stayed here with Heather. I’ll try not to be too long. Would you mind?”

“Whatever you need from me.”

Maybe later she would find a moment to contemplate his response. Right now, she needed to get downtown.

Monica grabbed her sweater from the shelf in her walk-in closet. Then she picked up her day planner, grabbed her purse and descended the stairs. Daniel stood at the base. He put his hand out when she reached him, laying it on her shoulder.

“You going to be okay?” he asked.

She nodded, even though her heart still raced. “I don’t know why, but I feel frightened. As if the burglar were here or something.”

With a nod of understanding, Daniel drew her into his arms and gave her a reassuring hug. “Call me if you need me,” he whispered near her ear.

“Thanks.” She swallowed the lump in her throat. Then she added, “I’m glad you were here.”

“Me, too, sweetheart.”

It was midnight before Monica pulled her minivan into the garage. The weariness she felt went beyond the lateness of the hour. It was something much more internal. It was a sense of violation that weighed heavily on her heart.

It had seemed like the questions from the police officers would never end. No, Solutions didn’t keep anything but petty cash in the office. Yes, nearly all the employees had keys to the main door. No, no one but Monica and Doug knew the combination to the safe. Yes, they were fully insured. No… Yes… No…

She tried not to think of the mess the burglars had left in their wake. She could understand the theft of computers and CD players and fax machines. What she couldn’t understand was the need to topple lamps and potted plants and to break picture frames and mirrors. She probably didn’t know the worst. Doug had done his best to shield her from it.

With a deep sigh, she slid out of the minivan and went inside. Night-lights lit the hallway and staircase, and she followed their soft glow up to the second floor.

Before going to her own room, she stopped at Heather’s. Her daughter lay amidst a jumble of blankets and sheets, her long black hair spreading across the pillowcase like spilled ink. She looked small and innocent, and Monica felt a sudden wave of protectiveness. How could she shelter Heather from the hurts of a cruel and out-of-control world? How could she make sure Heather never knew fear or pain or betrayal?

The answer, of course, was that she couldn’t. Not really.

Tears welled in her eyes. She blinked them away, then stepped over to the bed, leaned down and lightly kissed her daughter’s forehead.

Heather rolled onto her side, murmuring, “Daddy?”

“No, honey, it’s Mommy.”

“Mmm.”

Monica waited, but Heather was once again sound asleep.

Monica straightened and turned toward the bedroom door, wondering where Daniel was. To be honest, she was so tired when she came in, she’d forgotten he’d volunteered to stay with Heather.

Feeling bone weary, she descended the stairs. She already knew he wasn’t in the kitchen, since she’d come through that way from the garage. So she walked to the living room, pausing in the doorway.

There was Daniel, sound asleep on the sofa, one arm lying across his forehead, the other hanging off the couch, his hand resting on the floor.

As if sensing her there, he opened her eyes.

Monica couldn’t seem to breathe.

He sat up. “Are you all right?” His voice was low and gravelly with sleep.

She nodded. Then the tears sprang up again. She choked on an unexpected sob. Before she realized he’d moved, he was off the sofa, across the room and holding her in a comforting embrace. He stroked her hair with one hand, rubbed her back with the other. His chin rested atop her head. His skin was warm against her cheek. He smelled good, a little bit cologne, a lot masculine. Strong and safe.

“How can I help?” he asked.

You can hold me forever, just like this. It’s been so long since I was held like this.

“Monica?”

She swallowed the lump in her throat. “I’ll be okay, Daniel.” She drew back so she could look up at him. “Thanks for staying with Heather.”

He peered intently into her eyes. “How bad was it?”

“They took several computers, a fax machine, a couple of
CD players. I’m not sure what else.” She shuddered. “It’s the unnecessary destruction that’s the worst part. The thieves seemed to take pleasure in breaking things. I’ll have to go back in the morning. There’ll be plenty of cleanup to do, and I’ll have to help Doug do a complete inventory.”

“Need me to stay with Heather?”

“Do you mind? She has dance lessons on Saturday mornings. I could ask Mother.”

“No, I don’t mind. I want to.” He stroked her cheek with his fingertips. “You sure you’re okay?”

She caught a ragged breath, reacting to the tender caress. No, I’m not all right. “Yes, I’m fine,” she lied.

The air crackled, charged by a new awareness of each other. She wished…

No, she didn’t wish it. She
couldn’t
wish it.

“Monica?”

She shook her head. “Good night, Daniel.”

He hesitated, then nodded. “I’ll be off then. What time do you want me back in the morning?”

“Nine?”

“Okay. See you at nine.”

Monica was both glad and sorry to see him go.

D
aniel threw off the covers and slid his feet to the floor, pausing long enough to rake the fingers of both hands through his hair before standing. He yawned and stretched, then made his way into the connecting bathroom. He was in dire need of a hot shower, followed by a cup of coffee in order to clear the cobwebs from his brain.

Monica was right, he told himself a few minutes later as he stood beneath a spray of water. He needed to focus on being a good dad and forget his feelings for her. They were too different. He had nothing to offer her. Certainly nothing she wanted.

He worked shampoo into a lather as the issue repeated itself over and over again in his head.

What did he want for himself? That was the real question. Where was he headed? What did the future hold? He had accomplished plenty in his life. He had an interesting
job, financial security. Still, he knew something was missing. And the more he was around Heather and Monica, the more he wondered if they could fill that empty place within himself.

The empty place inside himself…. He hadn’t thought of it that way before. He was exhausted, that was for certain. But empty?

You’ve got a God-sized hole in your heart
…
.

Daniel stopped dead still, the shower spray
rat-a-tatting
against his shoulders. Who had said that to him? The words were so distinct. Had it been one of the subjects he’d interviewed?

You’ve got a God-sized hole in your heart, Daniel, that only Jesus can fill. Don’t run away from Him. Run to Him.

Stephanie. It was Stephanie, his stepmom, who’d said it. How could he have forgotten that? How could he have forgotten she was a Christian?

Daniel
—now it was Monica’s words he heard—
if I ever become involved with a man again, he’ll have to share my love of Jesus. To do otherwise would be an enormous mistake.

Monica wasn’t interested in a casual relationship with a man. She wanted love. She wanted a commitment. She wanted forever. And she wanted a man who shared her faith.

She wanted too much.

Only,
was
it too much?

He turned off the water and reached for a towel.

Of course it was too much. At least it was too much for him.

You’ve got a God-sized hole in your heart, Daniel, that only Jesus can fill.

He vigorously rubbed his head with the towel, as if try
ing to rub out Stephanie Rourke’s words from his memory. He didn’t much care for the way they made him feel—uncertain and unsteady.

The memory didn’t go away. It was still with Daniel when he arrived at Monica’s an hour later. Nagging him. Nudging him. Causing him to question all that he believed to be true.

“Have you had breakfast?” Monica asked as she led the way from the front door to the kitchen.

“No. I didn’t take time.” Truth was, he’d been so bothered by his thoughts, he’d forgotten to eat. Now he realized he was hungry.

“Well, you’re welcome to join us. We got a late start this morning.”

“Thanks. I’d like that.”

“Hi, Dad!” Heather called to him from the table. “Wait’ll you see the newspaper.”

He glanced at Monica. “It made the news?” he asked, referring to the break-in at Solutions.

She nodded. “You still like your eggs over hard?”

“Please.” After pouring himself a cup of coffee, he walked to the table and looked down at page two of the
Boise Herald
’s local section. He didn’t see what he’d expected. Instead his own publicity photograph stared back at him.

“What’s this?” he muttered as he picked up the paper and began to read.

The rest of the article was about his Boise roots, his accomplishments in Chicago, his coverage of the Henderson trial and his book. The last line was a quote from his editor:

Garth Johnson must have got Charley out of bed last night to get that quote before the paper went to press.

“Pretty cool, huh?” Heather asked when he looked up. “I’ve never been in the paper before. Have I, Mama?”

“No, honey, you haven’t.” To Daniel, Monica said, “Sit down, please. Your eggs are ready.” She placed a plate on the table.

He gave her a hard look, noting the dark circles beneath her eyes and the pinched corners of her mouth. Her entire body looked stiff.

“Are you okay?” he asked softly.

She nodded, but he knew it was a lie.

“You don’t look like you slept much.”

“I didn’t.”

He wanted to ask if it was because of Solutions or because of him. She didn’t give him a chance to do either.

“I told Heather what happened and why you’ll be taking her to her lessons. I don’t know how long I’ll be. Probably all day. You can reach me on my mobile phone if you need me. There’s a note with all the directions over by the phone.”

He put his hand on her shoulder. “We’ll be fine. Don’t worry about us.”

“Okay.” She sidestepped from under his hand. “I’d better get going.” She dropped a quick kiss on top of Heather’s head. “Mind your dad.”

“I will.”

Monica avoided looking at Daniel as she headed toward the hall.

“Hey, Mama.”

She stopped and glanced behind her.

“I’m sorry about what happened at work. I hope the police find everything all right.”

Monica offered a weak smile. “Thanks, honey.”

Daniel ate his breakfast, accompanied by Heather’s bright chatter. It still amazed him how much one little girl could talk. He wondered if they were all as gregarious as Heather or if his daughter was unique.

When they finished eating, Daniel cleared the table and put the dishes into the dishwasher. Seeing it was full, he looked for the detergent beneath the sink, then filled the soap dispensers and started the wash cycle. Finally he went over to the telephone and picked up the note of instructions Monica had left for him.

Dance lessons were at eleven. The note told him where her leotards and ballet shoes were and gave directions on
how to find the studio. It also said Heather had a project to complete for Sunday school.

No friends over until she’s done. No going to a friend’s house today at all. Not even Mary’s.

“What’s your Sunday school project?” he asked.

“I’m doing a poster about the Good Samaritan.”

“Need any help?”

“Sure.”

This fatherhood stuff was a piece of cake, Daniel thought as his daughter grinned at him. He didn’t know why he’d been nervous. Heather had been perfect since the day he’d met her. The credit had to go to Monica, of course, but it didn’t make Daniel any less proud.

He looked at his watch. “Hey, listen. We need to get your things for dance class together and leave.”

“I’ll go get ready,” Heather replied as she hopped up from her chair. Then she dashed out of sight.

Yes, sirree. This fatherhood stuff was a piece of cake.

Monica sat on the floor of the file room, sorting through the papers that had been strewn hither and yon by the intruders. She didn’t know whether to cry again or to scream in rage. She wanted to do both.

Doug, bless his heart, had cataloged all the missing equipment and prepared a document that included the serial numbers, makes and models and any other needed information for the insurance company. He’d assured Monica that most of it would be covered.

But no one could reimburse her for the less tangible losses. She no longer felt secure. Instead she felt vulnerable. She couldn’t explain it. She only knew it was true.

It didn’t help that Daniel’s presence had added to that vulnerability.

As tired as she’d been last night when she returned from the office, she still hadn’t been able to sleep. She hadn’t been able to shake the memory of Daniel holding her in his arms. She hadn’t been able to rid her nostrils of the wonderful scent of him or the feel of his warm skin against her cheek.

“Why did you have to come back, Daniel?” she whispered. “I don’t want to deal with this.”

But she was going to have to deal with it, she silently admitted. Because Doug was right when he’d suggested she was falling in love with Daniel all over again. And loving him could only break her heart a second time.

“How’s it coming?”

She glanced up. Doug stood in the doorway to the file room. She seldom saw her friend dressed in casual attire. He was much more of a nice-suit-and-tie sort of guy, the kind of man who worked hard and was dependable. He was the sort of man you could count on, a good friend whose word stood for something solid. A man who didn’t seek fame or fortune but who had much more “down home” expectations and goals.

Why couldn’t I have fallen in love with you? she wondered.

Aloud, she answered him, “It’s daunting. Half the stuff I don’t know what to do with. I’ll have to leave it for Terri and Claudia to figure out, I guess.”

“So leave it. You don’t have to do it all yourself. No one will expect you to.”

“Doug?”

He inclined his head. “Yeah?”

“I’m in love with him.”

“I know.”

She smiled weakly. “Maybe I never stopped loving him.”

“Have you told him how you feel?”

“No.”

“Don’t you think you should?”

She covered her face with her hands and lowered her head toward her knees. “I don’t know what I should do. Even if he loved me, too, it couldn’t go anywhere.”

Doug showed his usual patience, waiting quietly while she sorted her thoughts.

Looking up again, she said, “Heather is completely enamored of her dad, of having him around all the time. She’s going to be heartbroken when he goes back to Chicago. And he’s just as taken with her. But none of it is normal right now.” She gave a humorless laugh. “You know how, when you first start to date someone, you only let them see you at your best? Your hair is always perfect and you always dress in your best outfits for your dates and you laugh at their jokes, even if you don’t find them that funny.”

He smiled but still said nothing.

“Well, that’s how it is between the two of them right now. They’re both on their best behavior. They’re having fun, like a couple of pals. But it isn’t real. Being a parent can get messy. What if he finds out he doesn’t want anything to do with Heather once it does? Or what if he loves me, too, and he proposes and I have to refuse him because of our differences of belief? What if he walks out on Heather because I love him but won’t marry him? Heather could lose her dad because of me.”

Doug reached out and took hold of one of her hands. “I think you’re borrowing trouble. Give the guy some credit. I
don’t think you could love him if he didn’t have more character than that.”

Oh, how she prayed Doug was right.

“Tell him how you feel, Fletch. It’s the right thing to do. For everybody concerned. Maybe God will work a miracle for you two.”

She squeezed his hand. “Thanks, Doug. You’re a good friend.”

Daniel found the dance studio without mishap, but he was dismayed to find himself in a small room with a number of students’ mothers, Becky Stover among them. Shortly after the girls went off to their lesson, Mrs. Stover confirmed her divorced status and made it clear— as Daniel had suspected last night—that she was readily available to him, should he be so inclined.

He wasn’t.

He spent the hour fending off Becky Stover’s blatant come-ons, in addition to answering the fanlike questions of the other women in the room. Although he didn’t show it, he wasn’t in the best of moods by the time the ballet class let out.

Heather and Mary ran into the waiting room, wearing their tights and leotards and carrying their dance cases.

“Hey, Mom,” Mary said, “can Heather come over to our house to play?”

Becky turned sultry brown eyes toward Daniel. “If it’s okay with Mr. Rourke.”

“Sorry.” He shook his head. “Heather’s supposed to stay home today.”

“Please, Daddy,” Heather piped in. “I won’t stay over at Mary’s too long.”

He gave his head another shake. “You know what your mom said. You’ve got that project for Sunday school to finish. Maybe you could ask Mary to come to your house afterward.”

“But it’d be okay for me to go to Mary’s if
you
said it was. Please, please, please.”

Her eyes looked so big and round and hopeful, it was tough to say no to her. But he did it anyway, figuring Monica knew best. “Sorry. Come on. We’d better get going.”

“But, Daddy!” she wailed.

Becky Stover stepped to his side and placed a hand on his arm. “I really wouldn’t mind, Mr. Rourke. I’d be happy to bring Heather to your house, if you’d give me your address.”

In a pig’s eye, he thought as he met her gaze. “Sorry,” he repeated, not bothering to tell her they weren’t going to his house. He looked at Heather again. “I said let’s go.”

“It’s not fair!” She stomped a foot for emphasis.

Daniel was losing patience. “
Now,
Heather.”

“Mama would let me go if she was here.”

“Well, she’s not here.”

Heather stuck out her chin. Her mouth was pressed into a thin, flat line, and her eyes narrowed as she glared at him.
Make me,
they seemed to say.

He couldn’t believe this was happening. Right here in public. Everyone in the room was watching, waiting to see what would happen next, waiting to see how he would handle his daughter’s defiance.

Not well, obviously.

“Unless you want to feel the palm of my hand against your behind, you’d better get it out to my car…
Now.
”