An Unlikely Father

“Never mind,” he said, taking the fork and cutting a piece of cake for himself. He swallowed, licked the fork and handed it back to her. “See? I can be as daring as the next guy.”

She huffed, dug into the dessert again, and, quite unexpectedly, Ethan found himself wondering what it would be like to share more than a plastic fork with this woman.

CHAPTER THREE

FINN WAS ALREADY in the kitchen at six o’clock the next morning when Helen padded in on bare feet. He looked up at her and frowned. “What time you get in last night?”

“A little before eleven. I had a few janitorial services to perform in town, but I’m fine. Don’t worry.”

He gave her a questioning stare before wheeling to the kitchen table with a quart of milk. “I’ve got your cereal and toast ready. I’ll cut up some fruit.”

“Thanks, but mostly I want coffee.” She responded to a scratching on the screen door and went to let the dog in. The Labrador lumbered into the room, his arthritic back leg stiff as it always was in the mornings. “Did you give Andy his pill?” she asked her father.

“Not yet, but there’s a chunk of liverwurst on the counter.”

Helen stuffed a large pain pill into the meat and molded a sort of liverwurst cocoon around it. Andy walked over to her, opened his mouth and accepted the treat without being coaxed. Helen bent down and kissed the top of his golden head. “That’ll get you through another twenty-four hours, big guy,” she said.

“I’ll fix you some lunch to take with you,” Finn offered.

Helen shook her head. Every time she had a charter, Finn asked her if he could fix her a lunch. And almost every time, she said no. “I can’t eat when I’m out there, Pop. You know that. I’ll eat when I get back.”

“I know what you say, but you should take a sandwich along just in case.”

She poured herself a mug of coffee and sat. “Look, Pop, you know what it’s like. I’m going to rig lines, cut mullet and bait hooks for four hours. It’s not all that conducive to a hearty appetite.”

“No, I guess not. Eat your breakfast.”

She stared at two bars of shredded wheat floating in a sea of milk. Her stomach turned over. Surely she wasn’t going to suffer from morning sickness. Life couldn’t be that cruel. She pushed aside a glass of orange juice in favor of a small bite of cantaloupe. It settled in her digestive tract without much of a revolution and gave her courage to try the cereal. She knew she had to eat. She wouldn’t see food again until after noon.

“How many are going out today?” Finn asked.

“Six. A group of accountants from Tampa.” She saw a glimmer in Finn’s eyes and quickly worked to extinguish it before he attempted a matchmaking scheme. “Never mind. I saw a couple of them last night in the Lionheart. Balding and overweight.”

“You can’t blame me for hoping.” He sipped his own coffee. “I heard, you know.”

Her gaze snapped to his and panic gripped her. Just what had he heard? The really big news nobody knew but her and Donny? “Oh, yeah, heard what?”

“About Donny leaving.”

She relaxed, spooned up another piece of cereal.

“Pet was over last night,” Finn continued. “She told me the rat left the Lionheart without even telling you goodbye.”

The efficiency of Heron Point’s gossip trail didn’t surprise Helen. Claire’s aunt Pet had been Finn’s special companion for six years. She worked in a café in town and heard every bit of news that circulated around the small community. Besides that, she claimed to have psychic abilities, a talent that Helen had witnessed on more than one occasion. Pet probably knew about Donny leaving town before he’d thrown the first pair of socks into a suitcase. “It’s certainly no secret,” she said, adding to herself that she’d better avoid Pet or this pregnancy might register on a psychic radar screen.

“I’m sorry, Helen. I know you fancied yourself having some sort of future with that guy. But I knew he was bad news.”

She concentrated on a slice of toast which she’d already smothered with three layers of jelly. “So you told me—many times.”

“Ha! As if I can tell you anything. But I keep trying, at least. What kind of job is singing, anyway? Fly-by-night if you ask me.”

“With Donny it’s more like fly-by-day, but it doesn’t matter. You won’t catch me extolling his virtues any longer. I’m not sure he ever had any in the first place.”

“So why did he take off?” Finn asked. “Did you and him have a fight?”

She pressed a hand over her stomach, a gesture she’d repeated quite often the last twenty-four hours. “Actually, no. I think Donny was finding Heron Point a little too crowded.”

“Too crowded? What the hell’s wrong with that man? We’ve got room to breathe in this town. This is a paradise for anyone who doesn’t like cramped spaces.”

Helen smirked. “Yeah, well for some men, even the addition of one more person can be intimidating.”

Finn was silent a moment. “I guess I know what he means there. I’ve been thinking about the invasion of the Anderson clan myself. First, Jack Hogan…”

Helen paused, her spoon hanging from her hand. “You still don’t like Jack?”

“I don’t want to, but he’s okay when you get to know him. I guess I’ll have to tolerate him living here.”

“Now that he’s chief of police, I suppose that’s very generous of you. I think he might arrest you if you tried to have him tarred and feathered.”

He went on as if she hadn’t spoken. “But that other one, the fella that knocked the headlight out of the truck…”

Helen dropped the spoon against the side of her bowl but didn’t bother correcting Finn’s version of the accident. “What about him?”

“He’s an Anderson. That’s a whole different story.”

She leaned forward. “You know, Pop, if you ever hope to get any sympathy from me about this whole secretive thing you’ve got against Anderson Enterprises, you’ve got to give me a little more to go on. I talked to Ethan Anderson awhile last night. He’s not so bad. He’s kind of nice and polite. And cultured. He’s not like the men around here. He cares about more than the arrival of the next beer truck.”

Finn propped his elbows on the table and stared at her over his clasped hands. “You’re not getting any ideas about him, are you? I can’t see my daughter with an Anderson.”

She practically laughed out loud. “Yeah, Pop, I’m just his type. I plan on letting him sweep me off my feet and whisk me out of this town with diamonds on my fingers.”

“Don’t even talk like that, Helen. I know I don’t have much control over what you do, but I’d fight to my last breath to keep you out of the clutches of an Anderson.”

She stood and carried her dishes to the sink. “For heaven’s sake, Pop, will you please tell me what this is about? I can’t even imagine how you know these people.”

He wheeled away from the table. “I suppose I’ll have to tell you if you’ve got your sights set on this fella.”

“I do not have my sights set on him! Nothing could be further from reality than me with Ethan Anderson.”

“Well, good.”

“So you’ll tell me?”

“We’ll see.”

“Fine, but not today. I’ve got a lot on my mind that requires a good bit of thinking. As curious as I am about this little intrigue of yours, I’ve got my own problems to take care of for now. Not to mention six accountants from Tampa.”

Finn looked out the door to the porch. “Here comes Rusty. He’s a good boy. Wish he was more your age.”