‘Where do I start?’ He sounded completely bewildered. His bemused gaze flicked back and forth between Aimee and her.
At least he wanted to start. But wait until the shock completely wore off. It might be a different story then. Charlie turned to Aimee, who had her cup upside down, pointing in the general direction of her open mouth. Aimee. The love of her life. The reason she was in this situation. Warmth sneaked into Charlie. She never got tired of watching her daughter.
‘Up, up.’ Aimee’s face began screwing up for an outburst.
Moving quickly, Charlie reached for a damp cloth to wipe some of the mess off Aimee’s face before lifting her to hold her tightly. She wanted to hand Aimee to Marshall but for the life of her she couldn’t. She froze, unable to make the move. Unable to share her daughter with this man. Their daughter, remember? Looking over the top of Aimee’s head, her gaze clashed with Marshall’s intent one. Was this when he ran screaming from the house, never to be seen again? Admittedly he’d handled himself well so far but it had only been a few minutes since the truth had dawned on him.
His face softened from shock to awe. ‘Charlie Lang, a mother. It suits you.’ Then his gaze shifted infinitesimally, slowly cruised over Aimee. Looking for?
She said, ‘She’s got your eyes.’
‘Yeah.’
‘You want to hold her?’
His hands jammed into his pockets as he took a backward step.
Okay. Too soon. Shuffling sideways with her heavy bundle, she flicked the kettle on. ‘I’ll make that coffee I promised. How do you take it?’ Her stomach would probably heave if she drank any but she had to do something other than hold Aimee, who’d gone very quiet and still. Twisting her neck, she saw Aimee studying the man in their kitchen.
‘Black and strong.’ Marshall was suddenly avoiding looking at either of them, apparently finding the view out the window far more interesting.
Aimee wriggled to be put down. Placing her carefully on her feet, Charlie watched as she tottered over to Marshall and stood staring up at this stranger. An important stranger, if all went well. Rubbing her hands up and down her arms, she wondered what to do if Marshall decided he didn’t want anything to do with Aimee. Even if her health didn’t let her down, every child was entitled to two parents.
The need to explain things gripped Charlie and she began talking fast. ‘From the moment I found out I was pregnant I wanted you to have the opportunity to decide what role you’d have in your child’s life.’
He turned back to face her, saying absolutely nothing. Thankfully his steady gaze didn’t condemn her.
So she continued. ‘I’ve spent a lot of time looking for you in between having Aimee and learning to be a good mum. I checked every known social network on the net. Then I started phoning M Hunters in various states.’
His eyes widened as he gave a grim smile. ‘Truly?’
‘You wouldn’t believe how many there are in the US.’ Too many. Her phone bills were horrendous some months. ‘Marshall, I don’t want anything from you. Not for me. Certainly nothing like money or other handouts. Because of an inheritance from my mother I’m comfortably off and can easily provide whatever my child needs as she grows up. But I do want you to know her. Aimee needs her father to be in her life in some capacity.’ Her mouth was getting drier by the word, her tongue beginning to stick to the roof of her mouth.
Marshall’s steady gaze unsettled her. What was going on in that head of his? If only he’d say something. Like what? I’m thrilled to learn I’ve got a child. Let’s play happy families and see how that goes. We know nothing about each other but our child will solve all the differences.
Sounding good so far? Absolutely wonderful. If it wasn’t completely fictitious.
*
Marshall watched the emotions scudding across Charlie’s fragile-looking face as she babbled at him. He could read her like a neon sign. She was filled with the need to explain, to be fair and honest, and yet she was afraid he was going to skew everything for her and her little girl. That really stung despite knowing she was right on that score. But not in the way she imagined. She knew nothing about him. Had no idea he would make the worst father imaginable because of the upbringing he’d had. His fingers zipped across his head. What if he’d inherited his father’s genes? No way was he going to find out. The stakes were too high for all of them.
Clearing his throat, he hurried to put her at ease. ‘Charlie, whatever happens, however I decide to play this…’ Play was the wrong word. He shrugged, temporarily out of the right words, then carried on. ‘I will never try to take Aimee away from you. By that I mean I won’t demand she lives with me six months of the year or anything equally hideous.’
She didn’t relax. ‘You would have a fight on your hands if you did.’
‘I figured.’ He tried for a smile, managed to paste something resembling one on his face. ‘You could’ve picked a far better guy to be Aimee’s dad.’ If only he was more like his grandfather than his own father. A caring, tentative farmer, not a hard-nosed soldier and disciplinarian.
Her beautiful eyes widened. ‘Come on. If I believed that I wouldn’t have bothered looking for you.’ Then she added with a hint of the fun-loving Charlie he’d once known, ‘You’re a wonderful man. Any girl would be proud to show you off on school sports day.’
‘Sports day?’ Gulp. ‘You’re years ahead of me, Charlie.’ He was still trying to grapple with the fact he’d spawned this little kid currently shoving building blocks through juice in the middle of the floor. Kind of messy. Kind of cute. Slam. His heart squeezed. Hard. She’s mine? I did that? Helped make Aimee? He dragged his knuckles down his cheeks, digging in deep, checking he was awake, if he was feeling something or this was a dream. Everything was real. All too damned real. Spinning around, he charged for the door. He needed air, needed to get out of Charlie’s space. Needed to think without seeing Charlie’s concerns glittering out from those tragic eyes.
Why did she look like that? He didn’t remember seeing anything but laughter in her eyes and face before. Guess last time had been all about fun. Today was about consequences and reality.
Stumbling down the front steps, he charged down the path, reining in the urge to run faster than he’d ever run before. This situation was not going to go away. Looking along the road, he saw the crunched-up vehicle he’d driven down from Auckland. What a mess. Right now New Zealand didn’t seem to be agreeing with him.
Spinning around, he strode away in the opposite direction, trying to outwalk what he’d left at Charlie’s house. But she followed, in his head, as did that little cutie named Aimee. They were probably never going to leave him again. Even when he was on the other side of the world, fighting battles, looking out for his comrades, those two females would be lurking in some corner of his mind. Gulp.
Since when did he let situations get the better of him? He was trained to face adversity and deal with it. Despite the sense of freefalling from a plane without a parachute, he grinned. Or was it a grimace? In the army they didn’t teach you to deal with being told about eighteen-month-old daughters.
But you’re more than a soldier. You’re a doctor. Doctors nurtured, cared, mended, saved.
Hadn’t saved Rod.
He swore. Loud and badly. Stared up at the sky. ‘What do you think about this, then, buddy? Huh? What the hell am I supposed to do now? Quit soldiering? Move down under to a tourist town with a big lake and a small population? Be a father?’
‘Hey, watch out, mister,’ a young voice yelled.
Marshall dropped his head, glared around. Hell, that had been close. ‘Sorry, kid, didn’t mean to do that,’ he called after the boy on a bike. A horn tooted from behind him and he nearly leapt out of his skin. He had to get a grip. Standing in the middle of the road, shouting up at the heavens, was going to get him killed. Or locked up.
Waving an apology at the car’s irate driver, he stepped off the road onto the grass verge that led down to the lake edge. Sinking down on
his haunches, he studied the terrain. The choppy water didn’t stop kids leaping and diving into the chilly depths. Beyond them sailboats and motorboats sped back and forth. On the shoreline scantily clad people laughed and chattered under sun umbrellas as they tried to cool off. All very innocuous. Summer fun, family time.
Two things he’d had next to none of, and then only with his grandparents. A rare wave of anger swept over him. He had missed out on things other kids took for granted. His parents had never taken him out for the day just to have fun. He sucked up the anger, swallowed it. Thought about Grampy and Granny. They’d had more than enough love to spare for the skinny kid who’d arrived on their doorstep every school break.
They’d been his mentors, and yet he lived by his father’s role model. Always on the move, never stopping one place long enough to make friends or have a relationship that lasted longer than a couple of weeks. He’d met his only close friend in officer training camp and they’d been in the same unit ever since. Yeah, and look where that had gotten the guy. In a wooden box far too soon.
The same thing could happen to him any time. Active duty meant danger and the very real danger didn’t take note of who was in the firing line. Rod had been one of the best and he’d still bought the big one.
Shuddering, Marshall asked himself how he could be a good father for Aimee. He’d be in and out of her life, never stopping long enough to go to that sports day Charlie had mentioned. It would be better if he told Charlie right from the get-go that she should find a decent man and settle down to raise Aimee properly, lovingly, knowing from day to day, week to week, that he’d always be coming home. Because she sure wasn’t going to get that from him.