And who knew how close Seabrook and her captor had been?
While Lucia snoozed on, he studied the little hand clasped in his. She still didn't look a thing like anyone in his family. In movies or books, the surprise proof of heritage was some bizarre crooked finger or matching birthmark on the butt of both the baby and the dad.
Except he didn't have a birthmark on his ass, and so far as he knew, neither did anybody else in his family. Not that he'd been lurking around in the showers to check.
Uncurling his hand around hers, he counted fingers and the tiniest thumb he'd ever seen. Sara had said Lucia was small because she was a premature baby as well as naturally petite. That made sense.
It should have made sense right from the start, if only he'd listened.
No matter how much they'd changed, Sara knew him well enough to understand he wouldn't turn his back on her or Lucia. She had no reason to lie to him about being Lucia's father.
Lucia.
He looked at those little fingers again, touched his pointer to her palm. Reflexively in her sleep, she closed a fist and held on.
His chest clenched so tight he damn near couldn't breathe. This was his daughter. He didn't need butt birthmarks or preemie proof.
He knew this child was his. God help him, Sara may have thought he couldn't feel his heart, but he could have sworn Lucia's small fist was squeezing it in half right now.
This was scary, scary crap.
Her lashes drifted open, groggy and slow. "Sorry I ate the bug."
So was he. "Next time, call me first and we'll eat them together. Roger?"
"Gotcha."
"In fact, we'll have chocolate-covered ants for your birthday."
She giggled, and wasn't that the cutest sound? Even more so given how close they'd come to losing her.
"Do you know when your birthday is so I can order ahead?" Maybe that was too tough a question for a kid. What did he know?
"I was borned near Easter time. Next birthday I'll be'dis many." She held up five fingers.
Five. The answer had been here all along. Why had he never thought to ask?
Because he hadn't been ready to know. God, he was such a coward. "Get some sleep, kiddo. You're going to fly in a big airplane tomorrow."
Lord willing, Seabrook would have been found by then so they could all leave, because he wasn't setting foot on that plane until he had his squadron complete again.
"How big?"
"As big as a small house. I'll let you come up front and fly with me sometime."
She grinned, her eyes going droopy. "That's better than a horsie ride."
He clicked off the bedside lamp. "Sleep."
She snuggled under the covers. "Gotcha."
Got him? Yeah. She did.
Chapter 10
Sara jolted awake, catching herself just before she fell out of her chair by Lucia's narrow bed—alone except for her sleeping child.
No surprise. Lucas probably didn't want anything to do with her after their argument. Sara braced a steadying hand on the mattress.