From Doctor...to Daddy / When the Cowboy Said ''I Do'': From Doctor...to Daddy

“But you didn’t.”

She was the kind of woman who wouldn’t let him get away with anything. “If I had called, you could have easily given me an excuse not to see me. Are you busy?”

As if on cue, Emilia’s voice came from inside. “Mommy, pway.”

“I’m a mom,” she reminded him. “I’m always busy.

But I’ve fed Emilia supper and this is our winding-down time. Come on in. How are your ribs?”

“They’re better. Nothing is broken.” He’d had them x-rayed while he was at the hospital.

“Did you have supper?”

“Yes. Sue dropped off some of her soup and homemade bread.”

“She’s a good cook.”

Whereas Erika’s living room had been straightened up the last time he was here, now it had a different look because it had been a two-year-old’s play area for the past couple of hours. Sofa cushions stood cockeyed against the furniture with a blanket draped over the top. Stuffed animals, dolls and doll clothes lay scattered across the rug. Children’s books covered the top of the coffee table, while a coloring book and crayons were left abandoned on the easy chair. The whole atmosphere gave his heart a pang that was warning him he’d made a mistake by coming.

Erika scooped up a few toys and cut him a sideways glance. “Be careful not to trip over anything.”

Emilia was on her hands and knees peeking out of her hideaway at him.

“Hi, there,” he said, crouching down. “Remember me?”

She grinned and crawled out a little farther. “Doctor, doctor.”

“She remembers,” he murmured, stunned by the wonderful-terrible recall of a child. Toby had been like that, too—quick to remember, quick to make friends.

“She remembers what she wants to remember, so you must have made an impression,” Erika joked.

“That could be good or bad,” he said drily. “Come here, Emilia, I have something for you.” He wiggled the box.

Emilia scrambled out from under the cushions and blanket, pushed herself to her feet and ran over to him. One of her little overall straps was falling over her shoulder. She bumped against Dillon’s knees, holding on to them to balance herself.

He pushed her shoulder strap up where it belonged on top of the little white blouse covered with dancing dogs. “Would you like to open this?”

He set the box on the floor because it was too big for her to handle. Emilia squatted down beside it.

Erika said, “What do you say, baby?”

“Tank you,” Emilia told Dillon with a little smile.

“You’re very welcome. I hope you like it.”

Dillon helped Emilia with the package, which pictured a busy box with lights and music on the box.

“I already put the batteries in,” he told Erika.

“You’ve thought of everything.” Her eyes were full of questions, questions he didn’t know if he could answer.

After Dillon helped Emilia open the box and extract the toy, he pressed one of the buttons. A tiger popped up, music played and a blue light flashed.

“Oh, she’s going to love this,” Erika murmured. “Lights and music fascinate her right now.” She dropped to the floor beside her daughter and sat cross-legged, grinning as Emilia pushed the next button and an elephant popped up with a green light flashing.

Emilia giggled. Pointing to the elephant, she said, “Dumbo.”

“That’s the elephant in one of her books,” Erika explained, with a mother’s pride that her daughter was learning.

As Dillon watched mother and daughter, as he joined in laughing with them, seeing Emilia learn, his heart burned with remembered warmth. The feeling was bittersweet. Pictures of hugging Toby, reading to him and kissing him good-night played across a screen in his mind. Then it was swiftly followed by a feeling of powerlessness because he hadn’t been able to keep his son from slipping away.

Suddenly Emilia stopped playing with the toy. She climbed to her feet, ran to Dillon and held her little arms up to him. “Huggy, huggy,” she said as if he should know what that meant.

Dillon sought Erika’s gaze for translation.

“She wants a hug, and she wants to hug you.”

With a lump in his throat, Dillon wrapped his arms around Emilia and, ignoring the pain in his side, lifted her onto his lap. He gave her a hug and she hugged him back, burying her face in his sweater.

He ran his hand over her wavy hair, feeling his throat tighten.

“I think she’s getting sleepy.” Erika’s voice was low and husky and he wondered what she was thinking. But she didn’t tell him as she gathered Emilia from his arms. “Come on, honey.”

But Emilia began fussing and pointing to the toy Dillon had given her.

“All right. We can take it to your room. But you can’t have it in bed with you.”

“I’ll bring it,” Dillon said.

Erika’s gaze sought his. “This could take a little while. Sometimes the last thing she wants to do is go to sleep.”

“D.J.’s wife, Allaire, told me the same thing about their little boy.”

“You said he’s two, right?” Erika asked as they climbed the staircase to Emilia’s room.

“Yes. A couple of months older than Emilia.”

“And your cousin Dax has children, too?”

“His wife, Shandie, had a little girl when they married, but Dax is as bonded to her as he is to his son.”

Emilia was babbling now to herself and Erika kissed her little girl’s cheek.

Dillon felt a band of painful longing tighten around his heart.

Emilia’s room was painted yellow. There were cutouts of Winnie the Pooh, Tigger and Eeyore on the walls. Dillon felt as if he had no right to be part of this nightly ritual, but the urge to watch mother and daughter was strong and he leaned against the doorway.

Erika was totally caught up in changing Emilia … and slipping her little nightshirt decorated with lollipops over her head. All the while, she spoke to her. “Soon we’ll have to find you some pj’s with footsies.”