Her Secret Daughter

Josie wasn’t sure how to set things right. She needed more information, and taking this rental contract to Cruz would give her the excuse to put him on the trail. But one way or another, the thought of working in the same area with her beloved daughter was too good a chance to pass up. “I like a company that plans ahead. I’ll run these by my lawyer’s office this afternoon and get back to you.”

“By five o’clock Thursday?”

She nodded, stood and slipped the folder onto a stainless steel countertop. “Absolutely.”

“Then we should go.” He stood, too, and when Addie sighed, he angled his head. “Really? I brought you over for the best breakfast we’ve had in a long time, kid. Don’t push it.”

Addie didn’t whine. She didn’t pout. She slid down off the stool, then grabbed Josie in a hug—a hug she’d dreamed about for six long years. A hug that made her realize she would never want to let the girl go again...

“Thank you, Miss Josie! It was great!”

“You’re welcome, Addie.”

“And I’ll look forward to hearing from you, Josie. If your lawyer offers approval before Thursday, just call me. I’ll get a crew right over to dismantle everything and bring it up the beach.”

Two months with Addie.

Two months watching the child she’d given away as she laughed, skipped and hopped her way through life.

She didn’t need Cruz’s approval for that. No matter the terms, she’d grab this contract because it offered her something she never thought she’d have, time with her daughter. And that was a dream come true, no matter what the terms.

Chapter Four (#uc7a916cb-5310-5d58-a7b3-0445ac28b00a)

“Josie.” Cruz Maldonado set the contract down on the upscale desktop. He bridged his hands, thoughtful. “This deal with Carrington looks fine. I’ve got a few tweaks to make, nothing they should balk at. But then we come to the other situation, your little girl...”

His words made her swallow hard.

No one ever talked about “her little girl,” even when she was donating a life-giving organ. Everyone treated her as a kindly benefactor, while Ginger had gotten all the sweet mother references. Josie had swallowed it like a bitter pill then, determined to save Addie’s life, but hearing Cruz speak the phrase made it real.

She had a little girl. A precious child. Here. Now.

“I’ve got a friend in New York who specializes in adoptions. I’m going to send the facts to her, and she’ll have a team sort through it and find out what went wrong. She’s got resources I can’t access, and she’s good. Rory and I used her to ensure everything went fine with Lily and Javi.”

Lily and Javi were his cousin’s orphaned children, two beautiful youngsters he and Rory had adopted months before.

“Life can be weird.” When she frowned, Cruz raised a hand of caution. “Sometimes coincidental timing messes things up. But on first look, I have to agree with you. The timing sounds contrived, and while it’s unfortunate, it’s nothing that hasn’t been done before, according to my friend. She described it as an upscale bargaining point in pricey marriage breakups.”

Josie wanted to hit someone. Or something. The very thought of using a child as a bartering chip made her stomach rise up toward her throat. “That’s despicable.”

“A lot of folks think that fathers or the whole two-parent idea is overrated, and they’ll cite successful single parents to make their case. But if true, to deliberately lie to an agency with a marriage requirement for this particular adoption is fraud. We just don’t know for sure that’s what they did.”

“How expensive is the inquiry?” She hated to ask, and she’d pay whatever was required, but it wasn’t like she was made of money. Far from it.

“Pro bono,” he told her.

She scoffed. “Cruz, I can pay my own way. I have to. This is my deal, not yours, and don’t think you can slip this woman money behind my back and take care of things. I can handle this.”

“Good to know, but I mean it,” he told her. “Cait had me organize her parents’ retirement funds last year, and I was able to get them out of a serious logjam of events before their funds tumbled into nothingness. She’s happy to return the favor now. No cost, Josie. Although if you make me barbecue now and again, I’ll consider that my tip.”

No cost. She’d been fully prepared to hand over a large chunk of her resettlement money from Carrington. Now she wouldn’t have to. “And you’ll call me as soon as she knows anything?”

“Yes. Or I’ll stop by and see you.” He indicated The Square, the upscale shopping and gathering spot in the town’s center, with a glance toward the window. “This town hears everything, even with windows closed and doors locked.”

Josie knew the truth in that, another reason she’d kept her silence. She’d embarrassed her family by being the talk of the town once. She’d done her best to avoid it since. “Like any small town, I suppose.” She stood up and shook his hand. “Thank you, Cruz. And remember—”

“My lips are sealed.” He tapped the Carrington contract. “Let me tweak this and I’ll send it on to them and you for approval. Oh, and Josie?”

He was going to tell her this was a stupid idea, to accept the Carrington offer and work right there, with Jacob and Addie close by. And he’d be right. She knew that.

Cruz said nothing of the kind. He reached out and took her hands in his. “This is a gutsy move on your part.”

Gutsy or foolish? She waited for him to continue.

“And I want to tell you that any mother who can do what you’ve done, to put the best interests of her child first, both when you gave her up and when you risked your life to save hers...” He gripped her hands. “That ranks you pretty high up on my list. Sacrificial love is a wonderful thing.”

The praise came from the lips of a man who’d had an egocentric mother. If anyone appreciated good parenting, it was Cruz Maldonado. “Thank you, Cruz.”

“I’ll be in touch.”

She walked back to her car in the municipal lot, conflicted.

She didn’t want to risk having Addie in the middle of grown-up drama. But how else was she to ascertain the O’Neills’ history, and Addie’s placement with Jacob? What could go wrong besides absolutely everything?

If Jacob discovered her true identity, what would stop him from leaving with Addie? A talented man who’d overseen major projects could work anywhere. He could leave at a moment’s notice, and then where would she be?

But she couldn’t stand by, inactive. She couldn’t assume things were all right for Addie, when so much had gone wrong in her early life. If nothing else, she needed the truth. Yes, she’d stayed silent of her own volition. She’d had her reasons, and she’d trusted the systems in place.

If what she suspected was true, the systems hadn’t let her down. Two lying, scheming adults, putting their own agendas first, had done that. A slow burn started somewhere along her midspine and rose upward.

Nobody was allowed to mess with the sweet sanctity of a child for selfish desires. Not on her watch. And while Ginger O’Neill had seemed devoted to Addie, if she’d begun the process based on a lie, then she’d voided at least the moral part of the contract. And that was enough to thrust Josie forward.

* * *

“You’re here. Good.” Jacob rose from his desk in the work trailer as Josie came up the metal steps the next afternoon. He crossed the narrow space and opened the door. “I’ve just printed up the signature copies of the amended agreement. Carrington agreed on all points except one.”

“A deal breaker?” She lifted her right brow and gave him the same look his daughter offered on a regular basis. Part scoffing, part teasing.

“I hope not. They want a long-term contract. They want to know they’ve got you on board for at least five years. They’d prefer ten for longevity’s sake, but I talked them down to five. The two-year option your lawyer cited is off the table because if you walk after two years, we lose a whole lot of work and momentum. Are you all right with that?”

“Five it is.”

“Good.” He handed her the pen, relieved. He’d been surprised to see the twenty-four-month amendment, and not surprised when Carrington officials balked. No new enterprise wanted to risk a major schedule upset two years in. She bent to sign the contract. When she did, her long rust-brown hair tumbled over her shoulder, obscuring her face from his angle.

The warm smell of cinnamon wafted to him. And nutmeg? Maybe. With something else, a pungent, woodsy scent. She smelled of fall in the spring, and why did he find that singularly attractive?

She finished signing and flipped her hair back over her shoulder as she straightened.

The scent hit him again, hints of warm spices on a vibrant May afternoon. And for some reason, on her, it fit. “Is it all right if I send a crew over first thing in the morning to gather the equipment and supplies?”