316 Rose Rd (A Cherry Falls Romance)

He stares straight ahead, and I follow his gaze towards a car parked just behind the office.

"That’s my daughter’s car," he mutters, and he strides off towards it before I can stop him.

"What’s she doing here?" he remarks as I hurry to catch up.

"Are you sure?" I ask. "Seems like a coincidence, maybe–"

"Yes, I’m sure of it," he replies, and he points to a decal on the back window. "See? It says here. Preacher’s daughter. I got that for her last Christmas..."

"Oh, well, uh," I blurt out. I need to come up with something, and fast. I need to make sure that I don’t let him figure out just how well I’ve gotten to know his daughter since she has been here.

"Harper Higgins," he tells me. He speaks her name like she’s the most precious thing in the world to him – I have to admit, it’s pretty sweet.

"Oh, yeah, I think we had someone stop by with that name," I reply.

"You must have," he agrees. "What cabin is she staying in? I’d like to pop by and say hello."

"I think it’s that one," I reply, gesturing vaguely in the direction of Harper’s place. "But she was out for a hike first thing this morning. Don’t know if you’ll get to see her."

"Oh, good for her," he remarks, perking up. "I suppose I can catch up with her when she’s back. She said she was going away for a few days, but I thought she’d be booking a place down at Kissme Bay or – well, I suppose you don’t need to hear all this.”

"No worries," I say, and then turn to stride quickly back to the cabin where I have left Harper.

I pray that she hasn’t realized that her father is here, but as soon as I open the door, I see her, wide-eyed, a look of full-blown panic all over her face.

And I know that she is perfectly clear on the fact that her father has turned up and that she is probably not going to be able to sneak out of here without being spotted by at least one person who knows exactly who she is.

And who isn’t afraid to go reporting back to daddy the first chance that they get.

Chapter Twelve

Harper

"Oh my gosh!" I moan as soon as Cliff is through the door. "Was that...?”

"Your father?" He nods. "Yeah, it was. He’s here with a church group, I think. I didn’t know that they were the ones coming up here this weekend..."

"Oh, no," I groan, and I sink down onto the couch and put my head in my hands. "This is... this is awful!”

"Why?” he replies. "He doesn’t have to know that you’re here."

"He’ll find out," I shoot back. "And when he does..."

"And when he does, he’s going to have to remember that you’re a grown-ass woman of your own, right?”

"You don’t understand," I murmur. "My father is so protective. And I don’t want to let him down."

I don’t even know how to put this into words. The thought of my father catching on to a singular inch of the truth of what has been happening here feels crazy to me. How on earth am I going to be able to look him in the eye? Or the rest of the congregation, for that matter? They’re going to be judging the heck out of me, that’s for sure...

"You get to make your own decisions now, you told me that," he reminds me, kneeling down in front of me and grasping my arms.

His touch is enough to ground me, if only for a moment, and I look up at him, trying to catch my breath, trying to bring myself down to this moment, to this instant.

"I know that, but I’m not sure that he does," I admit. "It’s just... I’ve never been with anyone before. He’s never had to do the whole dad thing of dealing with that. And if he does, I don’t know how he’s going to react."

"Well, that’s not something that you have to worry about," Cliff tells me. "You deal with it however you’d like, and that’s just how it goes, okay? He doesn’t get to tell you what to do, or who to spend your time with."

I look at him, really look at the man in front of me, the man who is doing his stone-cold level best to make sure that I know that he is here for me. And I feel a pang in my heart, because I know that it isn’t going to be long before I have to go back to reality – to the world that exists without him, even though the thought of it is enough to make my chest ache.

"You don’t understand," I whisper, and he catches my face in his hand, tilts it so that I have no choice but to look at him as he speaks.