Reunited By A Secret Child

“Yes, my dad told me you’d made a reservation. Our rooms are always clean and comfortable,” Katie said.

“Does Rigbee’s have bedbugs?” Chrissy asked from the back seat.

Looking in the rearview mirror, Katie saw that her daughter’s expressive green eyes were round with disbelief. Eyes that looked so much like her father’s. Living in a motel, the little girl had heard all about bedbugs and cleanliness standards. It was their family business, after all.

“No, honey. We’re just joking,” Katie said.

“Because they’re our competition?” the girl asked.

“Yes, honey,” Katie said.

“Or maybe not,” Reese mumbled under his breath.

Katie chuckled as she turned the corner and headed toward home. “We’ve had a lot of reporters staying at our place.”

A flash of panic filled Reese’s eyes and his back stiffened.

“Don’t worry,” she said. “When you didn’t show up earlier this week, they all checked out this morning. I’m sure they’ve left town by now.”

She hoped. The pushy journalists and their cameramen had been a nuisance in their quiet town. Incessant questions about Reese and listening in on private conversations. She’d found one man hiding behind the ice machine. He’d given her the willies.

Reese relaxed as she pulled into the parking lot. Katie loved the old motel where she’d grown up and was now raising her own child. It wasn’t fancy, but it was clean and well maintained. And in that moment, Katie thought she was crazy to have gone to the airport to pick up Reese. Her life was boring and lonely, but at least she and her daughter were secure here.

What must she have been thinking? She’d kept her daughter’s paternity a secret for all these years, telling no one except her parents. Now that her mom was gone, only her dad knew the truth.

Two weeks ago, Katie had heard on the national news that Reese had lost his entire hotshot crew. And knowing that he’d almost died had changed something inside her.

Ever since she’d started kindergarten, Chrissy had been asking questions about her father. Why the other kids at school had a dad, but she didn’t. Why he never came to her dance recitals, or took her to the park. Katie had been surprised that her daughter missed her father’s presence in her life, even though Papa Charlie was always there. And that had made Katie realize it wasn’t fair for Chrissy to never meet her dad. To never know who he was. For good or bad, the girl had a right to know. So Katie had decided to tell Reese. But she had to proceed with caution. She had a lot to lose.

Within moments, they pulled into a parking spot. A long row of quaint, freshly painted doors sprawled out before them. A large, old-fashioned buckboard wagon sat near the main office, its side painted bright red, with the name of the motel written across it in tidy black letters. Antique milk cans filled with bright pink petunias stood like sentinels along the paved walkway leading to the front entrance. Charming and attractive. A homey place to stay.

“Here we are,” Katie said.

“It still looks the same. The milk cans are new,” Reese said.

“Yes, we put them in a couple of years ago.”

“I helped Mommy plant the flowers yesterday,” Chrissy chimed in.

“You did, huh? They look real nice.” Reese spoke in a kind tone and the child beamed happily.

Katie opened her door and hopped out, suddenly eager to get away from this man she could neither forgive nor forget. She needed time to think. Now that Reese and Chrissy had met, she had to plan how to tell him. She’d wait until Chrissy wasn’t around and find the right moment.

Turning, Katie reached into the back to help the little girl out of her booster seat. Reese popped his seat belt and stepped out, too, then lifted his duffel bag from the rear.

“Come to the office and Charlie will get you checked in,” Katie called.

Without waiting for his acknowledgment, she headed in that direction, forcing herself not to look back to see if he followed. He did. Like the pull of a magnet, she could feel him behind her, his gaze seeming to drill a hole through her spine.

She wasn’t sure she wanted him staying at the Cowboy Country Inn, but maybe it was for the best. Katie had to figure this out. But no matter what, she knew that telling him the truth would be the hardest thing she’d done yet. And once she did, nothing would ever be the same again.

Chapter Two (#u4ee61e5a-4509-5865-9e14-062c83372a24)

“Did you tell him?”

Katie dropped the mechanical pencil she’d been holding. It hit the computer keyboard and bounced onto the floor. Swiveling around, she picked it up, then sat back and stared at her father. Charlie Ashmore stood in the open doorway to the motel office, gripping his walking cane with one hand.

“Dad...” She spoke in an annoyed tone, hoping he’d take the hint and leave her alone. But he didn’t budge.

“I’d like to know. I don’t want to accidentally say something I shouldn’t while he’s staying here,” he said.

Katie chose to ignore his comments. “Did you get him situated in a room?”

“Yes. Milly took him some extra towels and a key to the pool. He walked down to Rocklin Diner to get something to eat.”

The restaurant was six blocks away. Maybe Katie should have offered Reese some lunch, but her mind was swirling with emotions. She told herself that she didn’t want him here. But deep in her heart, she was glad to see him again, grateful that he hadn’t died in the wildfire that had killed his crew. She refused to consider why she cared. Surely it was just because he was Chrissy’s father. Somehow, she knew it was something more. Something she couldn’t explain even after all these years.

“Maybe it’s not a good idea for him to stay here,” she said.

Charlie shrugged. “Why not? I know how difficult this situation is for you, but it was inevitable that he would come home for a visit someday. Besides, where else was he going to stay?”

He didn’t mention Rigbee’s Motel. He didn’t have to. It wasn’t a joke that they’d been accused of having bedbugs. Knowing her father was right didn’t make her feel any better.

“Where’s Chrissy?” Katie asked.

“In the living room watching TV.”

The living room. A large suite of rooms they’d converted for their own use. It included a soft sofa, two recliners, a bookshelf and a wide flat-screen TV. It wasn’t fancy, but it was clean and comfy, and they were happy, most of the time. With a few maids to clean the rooms, Charlie oversaw the front reception desk, while Katie did the books. They made a good team, running the Cowboy Country Inn together. But just now, Charlie’s mouth was stretched into a straight, solemn line that made his white mustache twitch.

“Did you tell him?” he asked again.

Katie’s gaze clashed with her father’s. “No, I didn’t.”

“Why not?” he persisted.

She looked away, an impatient sigh squeezing from her lungs. “I couldn’t tell him with Chrissy sitting there listening in.”

“You could have left her home with me,” he suggested.

She shook her head. “No, I wanted to see them together first. I want to proceed with caution. Telling him might be a mistake.”

“Why?”

“What if he causes trouble?”

Charlie shook his head. “I don’t think Reese is the type of man to do that. Not about his own child.”

She didn’t think so, either, but she wasn’t sure. After all, he was a fully grown man now, and she knew nothing about him. How he’d been living his life. If he was married or divorced. If he had other children somewhere. Nothing.