Invincible

He looked around the stove and the cabinets.

“Did I forget something?” she asked.

“I’m looking to see if you cooked a grit.”

She and her father both laughed.

“It isn’t a grit, it’s grits. They’re made with corn,” she pointed out.

He shook his head. “Foreign fare.”

“Yes, well, I expect you know how to cook a springbok, but I’d have no idea,” she said as she put the pot of chili on the table.

“And she knows about springboks!” Rourke groaned. He sat down and put his napkin in his lap. “She also knows the history of the Boer Wars,” he said.

Her father shook his head. “She’s a student of military history. A big fan of Hannibal,” he confided.

“So am I. He was from Carthage. Africa,” Rourke added.

There was silence while they ate. Rourke seemed fascinated with the simple meal.

“I’ve had cornbread before, but it’s usually so dry that I can’t eat it. My mother used to make it like this,” he added quietly. “She was from the States. Maryland, I believe.”

“How in the world did she end up in Africa?” Carlie exclaimed. She blushed. “I mean, if you don’t mind my asking.”

He put down his spoon. “I was very rude about my father. I’m sorry,” he said, his brown eyes steady on her face. “You see, my birth certificate lists my mother’s husband in that capacity. But a covert DNA profile tells a very different story.” His face was hard. “I don’t speak of it in company because it’s painful, even now.”

She was really blushing now. She didn’t know what to say.

“But I wouldn’t have hurt you deliberately just for asking an innocent question,” Rourke continued gently. “You don’t even know me.”

She bit her lower lip. “Thanks,” she said shyly.

“Now, if you’d been a man...” her father mused, emphasizing the last word.

Carlie looked at him inquisitively.

He exchanged a look with Rourke. “There was a bar in Nassau,” her father said. “And a member of the group we were with made a sarcastic remark. Not to add that he did know Rourke, and he certainly knew better, but he’d had one too many Bahama mamas.” He pursed his lips and studied Rourke’s hard face. “I believe he made a very poetic dive into the swimming pool outside the bar.”

“Deliberately?” Carlie asked.

“Well, if it had been deliberate, I don’t think he’d have done it through the glass patio door,” her father added.

Carlie sucked in a breath. She looked behind her.

“What are you looking for?” her father asked.

“Glass patio doors...”

Rourke chuckled. “It was a while back,” he remarked. “I’m less hotheaded now.”

“Lies,” her father said. “Terrible lies.”

“Watch it,” Rourke cautioned, pointing his chili spoon at the reverend, “or I’ll tell her about the Russian diplomat.”

“Please do!” Carlie pleaded.

Her father glowered at Rourke. “It was a long time ago, in another life. Ministers don’t hit people,” he said firmly.

“Well, you weren’t a minister then,” Rourke teased, “and your embassy had to call in a lot of favors to keep you out of jail.”

“What in the world did you people do in those days?” Carlie asked, shocked.

“Bad things,” Reverend Blair said softly. “And it’s time to change the subject.”

“The things we don’t know about our parents,” Carlie mused, staring at her father.

“Some things are better not known,” was the reply. “And isn’t your chili getting cold, pumpkin?”

“Why do you call her ‘pumpkin’?” Rourke wanted to know.

“Now that’s a really long story...”

“And we can forget to tell it unless we want burned meat for a week,” Carlie interjected.

The reverend just smiled.

* * *

HER FATHER WENT to answer a phone call while Carlie was clearing the dishes in the kitchen. Rourke sat at the kitchen table with a second cup of black coffee.

“You really don’t know a lot about your dad, do you?” he asked her.

“Apparently not,” she laughed, glancing at him with mischievous green eyes. “Do you take bribes? I can make almost any sort of pie or cake—”

“I don’t like sweets,” he interrupted. “And it’s worth my life to tell you,” he added with a laugh. “So don’t ask.”

She made a face and went back to the dishes in the sink.

“Don’t you have a dishwasher?” he asked, surprised.

She shook her head. “Money is always tight. We get a little extra and there’s a pregnant woman who can’t afford a car seat, or an elderly man who needs dentures, or a child who needs glasses...” She smiled. “That’s life.”

He frowned. “You just give it away?”

She turned toward him, curious. “Well, can you take it with you when you go?” she asked.

He paused, sipping coffee.