I perused the document.
“I loved her once, you know.”
“I’m sorry. What?”
My father gazed at me. “Your mother. I loved her once. She was my world.”
“What happened, then?”
I knew what had happened. She couldn’t have any more children. But I wanted to hear him say it.
As if he were reading my mind, he continued, “You may think it was the accident, but there was more to it than that.”
My mind darted back to his previous words. You look a lot like her. It used to bother me. It doesn’t anymore. I know you’re mine.
“What?”
“I already told you I won’t go there. It’s between your mother and me, Brad.”
“How am I supposed to understand if—”
“I said it’s between your mother and me. I have my reasons.”
I nodded. No use fighting George Steel once he dug in his heels. Perhaps he was right. A relationship between a man and his wife was no one’s business except theirs. In fact, I agreed.
But his comment edged its way into my head once more.
I know you’re mine.
As if he’d once questioned whether he’d actually fathered me. But that would mean…
No. Not my mother. She wouldn’t do such a thing.
“Mazie was a good mother,” my father offered. “But you already know that.”
She’d also been a damned good wife, but he didn’t say that. He was almost blatant in not saying that.
“She’s the best,” I said.
He didn’t reply. Was he waiting for me to tell him he was a good father? He’d be waiting a long time. He was an excellent rancher, an excellent businessman. He’d taught me well in those areas.
But a good father? A good all-around father?
Yeah, he’d just given me this house, but I couldn’t make myself say it. I could say something else, though.
“Thank you, Dad. For everything.”
“No need to thank me.”
“Yeah, there is. I’m not just talking about the house. I’m talking about being nice to Daphne.”
“She’s a lovely girl.”
“She is. And also for… helping me deal with Wendy.”
“I was glad to do that. I never wanted her anywhere near your life.”
“You were right. I should have listened to you.”
“Hell, you were young. You had a hard-on for a pretty girl. We’ve all been there. You had no way of knowing what a bad seed she was. Not then, anyhow.”
“I made some bad choices.”
“You did, but who hasn’t?” He shook his head, chuckling but not smiling. “Like I said, we’ve all been there. Maybe someday I’ll tell you about my own experiences.”
I wrinkled my forehead. I knew so little about my father. Was it possible we had more in common than I thought?
“I’d like that.”
“Not today, though. Go spend some time with Daphne.”
“That’s a great idea,” I said. “Thanks, Dad.”
I left the office, walked to Daphne’s guest room, and knocked.
“Come in.”
I walked in. Daphne sat on the bed, her eyes forlorn.
“What’s wrong?”
“Nothing. I think I disappointed your mother, though. She wanted to plan a wedding for us, and I told her I didn’t want a big wedding.”
“Why not?”
“Brad, you know why. I can’t have any kind of wedding if my mother can’t attend.”
Of course. I’d been obtuse. Lucy Wade had attempted suicide. She had to recover, which could take a long time.
“I’m sorry, baby. I wasn’t thinking.”
“It’s not your fault.”
“I should have told my mother—”
“No! Brad, no. Please don’t tell your mother what’s going on. She’ll wonder why my mother did it, and then everything about me and my junior year will come out. I just can’t.”
“Honey, my mother has been through some of the same.” Some being the operative word. Every time I thought about what had truly happened to my Daphne, I wanted to pummel someone and throw up at the same time.
“I know, but please. I can’t have your parents looking at me like that. I want them to like me.”
“They do like you. I’ve never seen my father take to anyone the way he took to you.”
“It’s because of the baby.”
“That’s part of it, but he thinks you’re special. He told me.”
“He did?”
“He did. And you know what? He’s right.” I smiled and kissed her gently on the lips.
We lay together on her bed and fell asleep that way, secure in each other’s arms.
Chapter Twenty
Daphne
My mother came home two weeks later.
She seemed okay when I visited, and she told me she wanted me to have a real wedding.
“I don’t want one,” I said.
“Daphne, come on. We can afford to give you a little wedding. Let me get in touch with Mrs. Steel.”
A day later, my mother called. “Mazie has invited you and me to the ranch this weekend to make plans.”
“Mom, how am I supposed to keep up with my studies when I’m nauseated all the time and I’m running around all weekend?”
Yeah, morning sickness had arrived. Only I didn’t have it in the morning. I had it most of the day. Brad kept the townhome—I had already moved in—stocked with saltine crackers, the only food that didn’t make me want to puke.