Kitabı oxu: «The Texan's Secret Daughter»

Chapter Three

Jazmine arrived at the Painted Dolphin thirty minutes early. She wanted to be there before Elijah so she could pick the table where this meeting would take place. The seat of power had to be hers. She walked around the building, then went up the steps.

A few boats with lights strung over every mast and piece of rigging sailed by in the bay. A longing surprised her.

A young staff member in a tie-dyed T-shirt came over to her. “Can I help you?”

A nervous laugh slipped out. Why did she felt like a teenager sneaking out of her parents’ house? “Yes. I’m meeting someone.” She scanned the large room. Several life-size sculpted dolphins painted with bright patterns still hung from the ceiling, but everything else looked new. The place was a surprising mix of modern and bohemian charm. Elijah had said it had been reopened a couple of months ago.

“Ma’am?” The blonde, sun-kissed girl looked at her with concern.

“Oh, I’m sorry. I use to come here all the time. It looks different.”

She smiled. “It looks great, right? So, do you want to sit inside or on the deck? The singer will be starting up again, so if you want to talk, then I suggest the deck. Sitting by the water is nice. It’s my favorite place.”

Jazmine nodded. “I always sat next to the railing.” She glanced across the room at the long wooden serving counter and froze. He was already here.

Working? He shook hands with someone and laughed.

Then he saw her and his smile vanished. With a few words to the man, he left the register area and headed straight for her. The work-worn clothes were gone. A blue dress shirt was open at the neck, the long sleeves rolled up to his elbows.

Oh my. The beach bum cowboy cleaned up well. Very well.

He moved with the easy grace she remembered from the early days. Like he owned everything around him. The confidence that he had shown the world was always in conflict with his self-esteem.

Without a doubt he had always been gorgeous, and she had never understood what he had seen in her. All the local girls had wondered the same thing. Her parents said he had just been after her money and social standing, but she had never believed that.

As she watched him, she saw a difference in him. He seemed more...more something. What, she wasn’t sure, but wow. Okay, so it looked as if he had a steady job. That was good.

“Hey, Jenny. I’ll seat Ms. Daniels.”

“Hi, Mr. De La Rosa. Oh.” She looked back to Jazmine. “You’re meeting Mr. De La Rosa.”

“Yes. She’s meeting me. We’re going to be outside at table seven. Will you bring us some chips with guacamole and some lemonade?”

“Of course, sir. I’ll have it right out.” Her long blond hair swung as she turned to do his bidding.

With his most charming wink, he grinned at her. “You’re early.”

Caught. She glanced around. “I wanted to—”

“Get here first to get the lay of the land.” He chuckled. “I’m not surprised.” He lifted his right arm and gestured to the doors leading out to the deck. “Ladies first.”

She glanced around as they walked under the giant garage doors made of glass. Two of the three were rolled up into the ceiling, leaving the restaurant open to the water. On a small platform, a man was strumming a guitar and softly singing. The dining area looked busy. “Will you get in trouble for talking while you’re at work?”

With a half-hearted chuckle, he shook his head. “No. I’m good. I’m pretty tight with the owner.” He pushed back his hair.

Her brain was trying to catch up. The Elijah she saw this afternoon was not matching up with the Mr. De La Rosa she followed now. “You work here?” Was he the manager? “You’re not... Why were you eating at Esperanza’s today?”

Outside, they walked to the far corner of the railed deck. He pulled out the chair on the opposite side of the table and waited for her to sit before seating himself across from her. “I volunteer there, and I have a few men there I visit with whenever I get the chance.”

“Oh.” Her cheeks felt warm. “Are they in AA?”

He gave her a tight smile. “We’re here to talk about our daughter.”

“Of course.” Opening her purse, she pulled out an envelope. “I printed these up for you. I can send you more if you want.”

His hands shook a little as he picked up the pictures. Was he nervous or was it a side effect from all the drinking? The gentle lapping of the water against the pier was the only sound as she watched him.

He flipped through the pictures one at a time, studying each one as if devouring every detail. They started with the first hospital pictures and ended with a selfie they had taken yesterday while waiting for the car to take them to the airport. He looked through them again.

The only indication of what he was feeling was the flicker of muscle on his jawline and the bounce of his Adam’s apple. Unable to watch any longer, she let her gaze follow the boats in the harbor.

The clearing of his throat brought her attention back to him. He held the envelope out to her.

“No. Those are yours.”

“Thanks.” He slid them into his shirt pocket. For a moment his hand rested there.

Needing to focus on something else, her gaze swept their old hangout. “It’s nice. I like the changes. How long have you worked here?”

“About six months.” He sighed. His gaze darted around like he was embarrassed.

“You have the look of a manager.” She tried to keep her face neutral, rather than judgmental, but she wasn’t sure how successful she was. “So, you’re not homeless? You run the restaurant? That’s great.”

He shifted to the side and opened his mouth, then clamped it shut.

There was something in his eyes that seemed off. Was he ashamed? “It’s the perfect job for you. Outdoors, no sitting still. And you were always good with people. Working at a desk indoors everyday was not a good fit.”

“What about you? Have you moved back to Texas for good?”

“No. I took family leave to help my mother. I’m an event planner for a large resort in Denver. I have eight weeks, and then we’re going back.”

“Eight weeks?” He popped his knuckles. “I have eight weeks to get to know her before you leave.”

Nodding was all she could manage.

He leaned back, one arm draped across the empty chair next to his. The silky blue shirt pulled taut across his shoulders. He studied her, those intense gray eyes making her look away. She took in the boats. There were the normal charters and sailboats, but at the very end there was a new addition. A huge, old-fashioned ship bobbed in the water.

There had to be something safe she could talk about. “Is that a pirate ship?”

“Yeah. It’s new. I’ve been out on it a few times. It’s fun to watch it go by when I’m eating dinner on our deck at home.”

Biting the inside of her lip, she shut her eyes. The little beachfront cottage they had bought in the first months of their marriage.

It was on the opposite side of town. Her parents had given them the down payment to the fixer-upper. She had loved that place. “Our deck? I thought the house was sold in the divorce.”

“They didn’t tell you anything, did they?” This time his look of disgust wasn’t directed at her.

“No. They thought it would be easier for me.” Why was she suddenly afraid to hear what had happened to their little home? They had worked so hard together to restore the beach cottage until it was just the way she wanted it.

“Originally, they told me to sell it.” He shrugged. “I wanted to keep it. We had put so much sweat equity into it. It was the first time ever I had a real home.” He took a drink of his lemonade. “It looked like I was going to lose again. I didn’t have the money to buy you out.” His fingers ran along the braided leather bracelet he wore on his left wrist. “Then the hurricane hit. There was a great deal of damage. We wouldn’t have been able to sell anytime soon, so I made an offer to buy your half at a discount. My cousin Xavier helped me out. I still live there.”

She wasn’t sure why the idea of him fighting for their house made her heart flutter, but she needed to move on to other thoughts. “Were you able to rebuild?”

“I discovered that I have a skill for rebuilding.”

She turned her attention to the busy restaurant. “You always enjoyed being out on the water. You talked about owning your own fishing boats.”

He looked away and waved to some people on a boat gliding by. “I talked to my lawyer about child support. She’s going to do some research and figure out how much I owe you.”

“What?” The change of subject startled her. “No. I don’t want your money. I’m fine.”

His attention returned to her. Now his eyes were a steel gray. “It’s not for you. I’m not a deadbeat dad.”

“Elijah. You don’t—”

His fist clenched. “I will not be my father.” He took a deep breath and relaxed into his chair. “Buy her shoes or a pony or put it aside for college. I don’t want her to ever think I didn’t support her.” He pulled a card out of his shirt pocket where he had slipped the pictures. “Here’s my lawyer’s information. She’ll set up payment. Whatever is easier for you.”

She nodded, but her stomach turned. If he was paying child support, he’d start thinking he could have more say in Rosemarie’s life. She wasn’t ready to share her.

An awkward silence fell between them. When they had first met, talking had been so easy. They would stay on the beach late into the night discussing family, horses, the plans he had for the ranch, the boats he wanted to buy.

Sometimes they just talked about silly things that didn’t matter. All that counted was that they were together. He was only two years older, but she had been eighteen. The world had revolved around him and he owned it all. She never could figure out what he had seen in that shy, clumsy girl.

Leaning on his elbows and lacing his fingers together, he stared straight at her. “I’m really trying to understand. I know I scared you, but how could you keep her from me for so long?” The hard lines on his face and the white in his knuckles betrayed the anger he was holding in.

She shifted in her seat and looked away. It was hard to forget how strong her love for him had been in the early days. Then, a few months into their marriage, the drinking had started. That’s what she needed to remember. “You had become too unpredictable.”

“You didn’t even give me a chance.” His voice was low and harsh.

“I tried to help. When you had a difficult time with my parents or your uncle, I tried to intervene, but I know now that I only made it worse.”

She had been so sheltered, and it had shocked her to see at firsthand how ugly people could be to the ones they loved. Elijah’s uncle Frank had been a cruel, violent man who had no problem hitting someone small or weaker. The people he should have protected.

She shook her head. “I didn’t have the life experience to help you. I couldn’t imagine being abandoned by a mother and abused by an uncle. When it got worse, you started stumbling home hours after dinner. The one person I would have turned to for help was the one I was afraid for. I didn’t know how to get you to stop drinking.”

He grunted.

She knew Elijah had been suffering, but the more she had tried to help him, the worse the problems grew.

Looking down, she captured her hands and held them still. Her napkin was now an organized pile of neat shreds.

“The night I was going to tell you I was pregnant was the night you really seemed out of control. I thought about all the horror stories I’d heard about your uncle and the abuse. It overwhelmed me. I was scared of you.” The cold seeped through her skin.

“I’m not my uncle.” His voice was hard.

She wasn’t sure if he was trying to convince her or himself.

If Elijah was truly sober, then she owed it to her daughter to let her know him. But it didn’t mean she had to trust him.

He pulled out the pictures again.

With his attention on the photos, she had the luxury of studying him. His golden skin looked darker, but he had lighter streaks in his hair. The stubble from this afternoon was gone, leaving his skin smooth. Had he shaved for her?

With a heavy sigh, he looked up at the night sky. The string of white party lights highlighted his features. “I don’t even know where to start. We had a baby. I still can’t believe you left without telling me.” Lowering his head, he stared straight at her.

Gripping the edge of the wooden seat, she forced herself to sit still. Despite the anger that radiated from him, his body language told her he was in control.

He had a right to be upset, but she couldn’t back down. “The minute I found out I was pregnant, that baby became the most important person in my world.” She allowed her brain to take her back to that night.

She would not regret her decision. “You were out of control. Each night was getting worse. I was waiting up later and later. When you finally came home, it was an hour of yelling and ranting before you passed out. The violence was escalating. That last night I was so scared.”

“I never hurt you.” His lips tightened as his hard jaw flexed. “Did I?”

He looked down, but not before she had seen anger mixed with loathing. And something else. Doubt?

She sat back. “Not physically.”

“I’m not my uncle. I would never have touched you with violence.” His voice was low and gravelly. “Why didn’t you talk to me? Maybe if you had told me, I would’ve sobered up sooner.”

Now her own anger burned. “Are you serious?” The words forced their way out from between clenched teeth. “I did talk. You had three modes.” She held up one finger, keeping her scar facing her. “Drunk.” The second finger went up. “Asleep.” Then the third, the one she used to wear her wedding ring on. “Hungover. When was I supposed to reason with you?”

“You took my child and ran.” He closed his eyes and rolled his shoulders. When he opened them, his gaze bored into her. He appeared calm, but clearly determined.

“When I spoke to my lawyer about child support, I also asked her to look into my rights as a father. I want to see my daughter. What does she know about me?”

Fear jumbled her insides into a big ball of mush. This was what she had been afraid of, the one thing she wanted to avoid at all costs. “I’ve never hidden you from her.” Much to her mother’s dismay. “I’ve shared a couple of pictures of us from when we were dating. She knows that her name is a combination of her father’s family name and my grandmother’s name.”

“Why does she think I’m not around?” Tension reappeared in his shoulders. “Does she know you stole her?”

She leaned closer to him. “I did not kidnap my daughter.” He needed to understand that her daughter, their daughter, was the most important person in this mess.

“I was protecting her the only way I knew how. You’d started drinking. I was not going to bring my baby into a house where objects went crashing into walls without warning or wait around to see if you got better.” Over Elijah’s shoulder, she saw the cheerful waitress heading to their table carrying a tray that held chips and guacamole, as well as a glass pitcher full of lemonade with fresh sliced lemons.

Twisting, he looked to see what had caused her to stop talking. With a tight smile, he thanked the blonde.

“Did you need menus, Mr. De La Rosa?”

He looked at Jazmine.

She shook her head. “No. I had dinner already.” She wasn’t even sure she could keep down the lemonade.

“We’re good, Jenny. If I need anything else, I’ll come in and let you know.”

“Yes, sir.” With one more perfect smile and a polite but curious look, she left.

Did Elijah bring dates here a lot?

That was none of her business.

It was back to the heavy silence. The discussion had derailed again. Years ago, she had put all the anger and bitterness behind her. Or at least she thought she had. “Elijah—”

“I want—”

Speaking on top of each other, they both stopped. His fingers ran over the surface of the envelope. Had she made a mistake?

The real question was, did she make it six years ago or tonight, like her mother thought?

He laced his fingers in front of him. With his head down like that, he looked as if he were praying. Maybe she should join him. The only thing she knew right now was that God had to be in control. Because she and Elijah had made a mess. She didn’t want their daughter paying the price.

He cleared his throat. “Sorry. It’s been a few years since I’ve had to go through this. I’ve forgotten how difficult it could be.”

Confused, her gaze scanned his face, looking for clues to what he was thinking. He had always been good at hiding his feelings. “What do you mean?”

“Letting people air the hurts I caused them without getting defensive. It’s part of the program, the twelve steps. The list I started telling you about at the mission, but we got a little distracted. I have to find each one and express my true regret for the damage I’ve done. The person I hurt gets to vent and I listen. No excuses, I just listen. You were the only one left on my list. The last one. The one who deserves the biggest apology.” He reached across the table like he wanted to touch her, but then pulled back.

“I destroyed our marriage with my drinking. I...I know I did that. Those are the words that I’ve wanted to say to you, and I mean every single one of them. You had every right to walk out, but we have a daughter now and I’m at a loss as to what that means. It’s another horrible casualty of my drinking, but the thought of everything I missed is killing me. I can’t get back those years.”

“That’s why I’m here. But I have to be honest. Trusting you again is not going to be easy. I’m worried.”

He nodded, then looked up and made eye contact. “I’m sober. Soon it will be six years. I can’t fix the past, but we can move forward. I want to see her tomorrow.”

Chewing on the inside of her cheek, she organized her thoughts before answering. “You might have been sober for years, but in my mind, it was just the other day that you...” She looked down. “It might be best if we wait a little longer.”

He tossed his head back and stared at the night sky again. His chest expanded with deep, hard breaths. “Maybe it would be better for everyone if we finish this discussion in a courtroom. I’ll call my lawyer in the morning.”

His full attention was back on her. The eyes that she used to stare into for hours now looked at her with anger. Not filled with the love from the beginning or the drunk haze they held last time she saw him, but clear crisp determination.

Her stomach turned. “Elijah, I don’t—”

“I’m not the poor ranch kid from six years ago. If we have to go to court, I will. I deserve to have her in my life.”

She held up her hand. “No.”

He put his hands on top of hers, gently holding it to the table. Nerves tingled up her arm and down her spine. She stared at the hands that use to hold her with tenderness before the drinking. Clearing her head, she tried to pull away.

At first he increased the pressure, but then let her go.

“I won’t—” His voice was low and calm, but she didn’t doubt his iron will.

“Elijah, I didn’t mean you can’t see her. I just don’t want to drag her through court. I came here tonight so we can work something out between us. Her parents.”

Finally breaking eye contact, he propped his elbows on the table and rested his forehead on his palms. “What about your parents? Every time I tried to get in contact with you, they had restraining orders thrown at me. What makes you think they’ll go along with this now?”

Cutting her gaze to the busy restaurant, Jazmine felt thankful to be in public. It would help them both keep emotions in check.

“You know your drinking was very hard on them. That might be the one thing they can never forgive you for. You know our family history.” She blinked back the wetness in her eyes.

* * *

With a tight nod, Elijah acknowledged the horrible truth. Her parents had lost a child because of a drunk driver. His gut burned. There was nothing to say to that.

“I’ll take care of my parents. I came here tonight because it’s time Rosemarie met her father. But Elijah, it has to be on my terms. I know there’s a whole family she needs to meet, but please give me time. It’s been just her and me. Bringing you into her life is not easy.”

He wanted to point out that she had made this hard, not him. “I want to see her tomorrow.”

“Okay, but not alone. That’s my stipulation. I can’t trust you yet. Besides, she doesn’t know you. To her, you’re a stranger.”

A sadness replaced the fury. “Because you took her from me.” The words fought against the rawness in his throat.

She swallowed. “To protect her. She’s very shy. If you come over for lunch, it will be a comfortable and safe way to introduce you.”

“And she knows I’m her father, right?”

“In the abstract, which doesn’t mean much to a five-year-old. I’ll make sure she knows who you are.”

He sat back. “Okay. Tomorrow at 11:30. Will that work?” Elijah dropped his gaze from his wife—his ex-wife.

She still hadn’t said anything. This Jazmine was stronger. Surer of herself. But she couldn’t keep his daughter from him. “Jazz? Eleven thirty tomorrow?”

She gave the slightest jerk of her head. “Elijah, you have to know this is hard for me. My last memories of you are... Well, they don’t reassure my maternal fears. You’ve had years of being sober, but in my heart it all just happened.”

The tension was back. “You really think I would hurt our child? That I would hurt any kid?” He wasn’t that messed up.

Staying steady and calm was more important than his tattered pride. In the last five years, he had learned to listen and to wait before responding. It took time to process information and...ugh, feelings.

Even thinking the word to himself made him feel like an idiot. It was hard to completely erase his uncle’s words from his mind. Crybaby. Worthless. Weak. Waste of space. How could a dead man still taunt him?

His uncle had spouted nothing but hatred and lies. He knew that now. But it was still hard not to get lost in the black hole of doubt that swirled in his brain whenever life hit him with an unexpected hailstorm.

In God’s eyes, he was worthy of love. He was a child of God. That’s what his sister, Belle, and his friend Miguel told him anyway, and if he was going to believe a lie, it was better to go with that one.

What did he know? One fact that was drilled into the smallest fiber of his being was that he would do whatever it took to have his daughter in his life. He didn’t want to cause her any embarrassment or give her any reason not to claim him as her dad. Dad. He closed his eyes. He was someone’s dad.

Daughter. Wow. He was prepared to face any of the consequences his drinking brought to his door, or so he thought. This, he had not seen coming. He opened his eyes and studied his ex-wife.

She was staring out over the water. She hadn’t answered him, or he hadn’t heard her.

“I wouldn’t. You know that, right? I’d never hurt someone weaker than me.”

“No. Not intentionally. But when you’re drunk, your impulses and—”

“Which is why I don’t drink anymore.” Was he ever going to truly get away from his past? “Jazz, I know words aren’t enough. Earning your trust is a task I’m up for. Let me show you.”

Lips tight, she nodded. “That’s why you’re coming over. Rosemarie also needs time to get to know you.” She looked at the sailboat outlined with cords of white patio lights, its reflection slowly dancing on the water as laughter floated through the air. Looking back at him, her eyes shimmered. “We’ll see you tomorrow at 11:30.”

Her face might have the grimmest expression, but he wanted to lift her up and swing her around. It had been a long time since he just wanted to laugh. She used to give him that. And then he had destroyed her light, pitching them both into darkness.

Now he had another opportunity. Lunch with his daughter was now on his agenda.

And just like that, the fear was back.

What if he messed this up? What if she didn’t like him? He was a stranger to her. He twisted the leather at his wrist and repeated the words from his recent meditation verse, from John 14:27. He had needed an extra one today. Let not your heart be troubled, neither let it be afraid.

He needed to let the fear move on, through and out.

She stood, seemingly unaware of the turbulent sea of his emotions. “Now that we have that settled, I need to go home. I’ll see you tomorrow. Mom will have Daddy at PT, so it will just be the three of us.”

Pushing back the chair, he got to his feet and pulled out his business card. As he held it out, his work-hardened hands grazed her soft skin. The instinct to put her hand to his lips had to be locked down tight. “My personal cell is written on the back. If you don’t want to go through my lawyer, let me know whatever you need.”

“Thanks.”

He wanted to keep her here longer, but couldn’t think of any way to do it without kidnapping her. That wouldn’t help with the trust issues. “I’ll see y’all tomorrow. Do I need to bring anything?”

She swung the strap of her purse over her shoulder. “Just yourself.”

He wanted to ask her if he would be enough, but he stopped himself. Did he really want to know the truth?

As they walked to the exit, the singer started to cover “Just the Way You Are.” Jazmine jerked her head up to his, her eyes wide. “Did you—”

“No.” The words to their song swirled around him. “Just a coincidence.” Possibly a very cruel one. The memory of holding her while they slow-danced flooded his mind, and his body didn’t seem to notice the time difference. He was there with her. Back when she still loved him. More importantly, she had trusted him.

Lips tight, she turned from him. “Bye. We’ll see you tomorrow.”

His eyes followed her until she vanished from his sight. He needed to take some sort of gift. There wasn’t a thing about him that would make an impression on a five, almost six-year-old girl. His five, almost six-year-old girl. What did little girls like?

Pulling his phone out, he called his sister. It was time to let his family know. Belle was obsessive about family sticking together. He wasn’t sure if she was going to be more upset with him or with Jazmine and her parents. Either way he was in for a lecture about family.