Worth Fighting For

Something passed between them, something he suspected she’d felt, too. A need. A hunger.

He wouldn’t act on it, although it damned near killed him not to. “Thanks.”

“My pleasure,” she said, her eyes still fixed on his.

He knew better than to reach out and touch her, but when she looked at him like that, with what seemed like virginal interest, his common sense flew by the wayside. He ran the knuckles of his good hand along the softness of her cheek.

Had she pulled away, that would have been the end of it. But she didn’t. She merely watched him, her lips parting, tempting him to take things a step further.

Ah, man. What an idiot. Why’d he have to go and do that? Stir things up. Make things complicated.

He withdrew his hand, then clicked his tongue. “I’m really sorry about that, Caitlin. I have no idea what got into me. I must have jarred my brains on the pavement.”

“No, I kind of lost it, too.” She fingered the place on her cheek where his knuckles had stroked. When their gazes met, she quickly looked away, and her hand dropped into her lap.

Yeah, she’d definitely lost it, too.

He got to his feet and dragged a hand though his hair. He wasn’t used to women wanting to take the blame for something he should have been able to avoid, like an accident or an inappropriate caress. So he changed the subject. “Thanks for dinner, Caitlin.”

“You’re welcome.” She followed him to the door to see him out. But something continued to hover between them. Something sensual. Something he ought to avoid, if he hadn’t complicated things by making a promise to her daughter.

“I was serious about letting Emily visit Fred,” he said. “Your call, of course.”

“She’s really attached to him.”

“Okay.” he said, even though he was now feeling as skittish as the psycho cat hiding under the bed. “Maybe tomorrow morning.”

“That’s fine.” She smiled. “Then I can take you to get that rental car.”

He nodded, then returned to the dark house alone. If he hadn’t already told Emily she could visit, he’d board up the windows of his place and lock himself inside.

Away from the woman and kid who promised to be nothing but trouble.

Chapter Three

As Caitlin dried the last of the morning dishes, Emily waited in the breakfast nook, feet dangling from her seat, elbows resting on the table, hands propping up her chin.

“It’s nine-oh-one,” the little girl announced.

Each day, at roughly nine o’clock, Emily and Caitlin took the neighbor’s dog for a walk. It had become a tradition they both looked forward to, a special time when she and her daughter could chat, get a little exercise and enjoy the fresh air and sunshine.

And it gave Emily another chance to pretend she had a pet of her own.

“You’re sure good at telling time, Em. But just give me a minute more. I’m nearly finished.” Caitlin placed the last spoon into the drawer, then folded the damp towel and hung it on the rack to dry.

“Yea!” Emily climbed from her chair, just as the telephone rang, then paused. “Oh, no.”

“Sorry, sweetie. I’ll make this quick.” Caitlin snatched the receiver from the hook. “Hello?”

It was Phyllis McAree, her attorney. “Have you got a minute?”

Caitlin glanced at her eager daughter, then lifted her index finger, indicating the call would take a moment.

“Yes, Phyllis. Go ahead.” Caitlin gripped the receiver and held her breath, hoping the competent family law specialist had something positive to report.

“From what I can gather, Zack’s parole hearing has been set up for the end of the month. And since he hasn’t had any problems while serving his term, there’s a good chance he’ll be released. I spoke to his attorney, and there’s no way they’ll drop the custody suit. Zack wants his child.”

Caitlin’s heart dropped to her stomach. Tears stung her eyes, and a lump formed in her throat, making it difficult to speak—even if Emily hadn’t been in the room, listening intently.

She glanced at her daughter, the little girl who’d become the love of her life.

“It’s nine-oh-three,” Emily whispered.

Under other circumstances, Caitlin would have handled Emily differently. She would have told her to be patient and wait until after the phone call. But Caitlin didn’t want to worry about the words she might say, the tears she might cry.

“Just a minute,” she told Phyllis. Then she placed a hand over the mouthpiece of the receiver. “Em, why don’t you knock on the Blackstone’s door and ask if you can bring Scruffy over here.”

“To our house?” Her daughter’s eyes brightened. “Okay!”

Allowing Scruffy to visit hadn’t been an option before, due to Caitlin’s allergies. But right now, she needed some time alone. And although she didn’t usually let Emily go outside unsupervised, the Blackstones shared a wall with Caitlin, and the door was merely steps away from her own. “Leave our front door open so I can watch you, honey.”

“Okay.” Emily grinned, then dashed outside.

“I’m sorry for the interruption,” Caitlin told her attorney, “but I didn’t want to talk in front of my daughter.”

“I can certainly understand that.” Phyllis blew out a sigh. “I won’t lie to you, Caitlin. This case isn’t going to be easy. Emotions will run high, and so will the legal fees. Apparently Zack has an uncle who’s willing to put up the money for his fight.”

Caitlin’s heart sank. She hadn’t counted on Zack having anyone’s support. She’d heard he was an orphan, and she’d hoped a lack of finances would prohibit him from hiring an attorney.

“What are the chances that Zack will win custody?” she asked the attorney. “After all, he is her biological father.”

“I wish I could tell you. Custody cases are never easy to predict, but you’re the only mother Emily has ever known, and that’s a strong point in your favor.”

But was it enough?

“Zack will probably claim to be rehabilitated,” Phyllis added. “And his attorney claims he has a job lined up at the construction company, where his uncle works.”

“He’s still a convicted felon,” Caitlin said. “Surely the courts won’t put a child in his home without being sure he’s really changed.”

“Even if he’s made a complete turnaround and plans to be a law-abiding citizen and a good father to his child, there are other factors the court will have to consider. Because he’s on parole, his home will be open to random searches and seizures at any time of the day or night. It won’t be a good environment for a child. And that’s another argument I’ll make.”

A chill crept over Caitlin, and her hands shook. “What happens if Emily’s at the house and they find something like drugs, weapons, some of those delinquents he used to hang around, or other parolees he met while incarcerated?”

“Zack will be sent back to prison, and social workers will take Emily to the county receiving home.”

“Oh, God. I can’t let that happen.”

“Caitlin, I’ll do everything in my power to help you. But keep in mind that you’ll retain custody during the legal proceedings. Then, even if the court does decide to let Zack have Emily, the transfer would probably start with visitation.”