A Father's Gift Read online

  “Has she made it?” Cassie asked.

  “Not that I’ve noticed.” He took a moment to watch his children. “I called in some markers and got her an audition with a reputable agent out in Los Angeles, but I don’t know what happened. Certainly no big starring roles.”

  “Hasn’t she been in touch with the girls?”

  He shook his head. “I’m not a sports-page item anymore, but we haven’t been hiding, either. She could find us if she wanted.” He shrugged. “I don’t know. She doesn’t seem to have any feelings for her kids…”

  Cassie wanted to take his hands and hold them tightly. She wanted to say something wise or understanding or even witty. Something that would ease that knot of hurt that seemed to be growing bigger before her eyes. But words eluded her. She wanted to make his pain go away, even for a few minutes, but her mind was frozen with the sense of loss and rejection both he and the kids must feel. Just went to prove how lousy she was at this whole relationship business.

  “Your turn.”

  She blinked.

  “Hey, I gave you a snippet of my life’s history. You have to give me yours.”

  Give him her life’s history? No way. It seemed cold in the room all of a sudden. Cold and threatening. She shook her head. “I don’t have to—”

  “Fair is fair.”

  She glared at him, clinging to the surge of anger with relief. “What are you? A Boy Scout full of pithy little sayings for every occasion?”

  He seemed startled by her vehemence and pulled away. “Hey, no big deal,” he retorted. “I was just making conversation.”

  She saw his pride throw up a screen for him to hide behind and realized this guy was pricklier than she was. Her refusal to share had hurt him, made it seem that his confidences weren’t important. It only took a moment of weighing to decide which was more important—her need for privacy or his need to feel accepted.

  After a long sip of her iced tea, she looked straight across at him. “It’s an ordinary story. I got married in college. We grew up and didn’t love each other anymore. Divorce seemed the best for everyone.”

  She looked away then, almost afraid that somehow he would be able to read the rest in her eyes, that he would see all the doubts and fears and accusations. Her doctor hadn’t found a reason why she hadn’t been able to get pregnant, but they hadn’t found a problem with Ron, either. More tests—that was what they had wanted. More tests, further blood work, additional X rays. They’d all seemed so certain that if they just looked at her long enough and hard enough, they would find the answer. All so certain that she was the one who was defective.

  Her gaze stopped at the kids in the playroom, laughing and pushing each other. She hated losing a ball game, even a stupid pickup game. Failing at being a woman had hurt almost more than she could bear; she was never going to risk that hurt again. She found Jack’s eyes on her and sought to divert them. She couldn’t take the chance that he would catch a glimpse into her soul.

  “What position do you think your kids will play?” she asked. “Linebacker?”

  He turned and frowned when he saw the shoving match they’d gotten into. “I’d better get them out of there,” he said, getting up. “Aunt Hattie gets upset if they come home too high. She says ladies are always under control.”

  Cassie just watched as Jack rounded up the girls. She didn’t find Aunt Hattie’s reactions strange. Given what Jack had said about her upbringing, she probably was going overboard to keep the girls’ childhood from being anything like hers. Sometimes the best you could do was keep those you cared about from sharing in your hurt. That was all that she was trying to do in avoiding a relationship—keeping someone else from the pain of her lacking.

  Jack came back with the girls and they waited while the twins put their shoes back on. It had been a pleasant evening, but Cassie wasn’t all that sorry to see it end. She was feeling a little too warm toward Jack. A little too willing to think chances could be taken when they couldn’t. When they shouldn’t. It was time to—

  “Cassie?”

  “Hey, Aunt Cassie, hi!”

  She spun and found herself facing her adopted brother Bobby and his three kids. “Hi, everybody,” she said, although her heart was sinking. If this didn’t beat all. The one time she was out with a guy—through no fault of her own—she had to run into the oldest and bossiest of her siblings.

  “What are you doing here?” her nephew, Timmy, asked.

  “Thought you had softball Friday nights,” Bobby added.

  She sighed and waved her hand at Jack and the girls, introducing them to her family. Bobby’s jaw dropped.

  “Jack Merrill?” he shouted as he pumped Jack’s hand. “The Jack Merrill?”

  “Man,” Timmy was saying. “I don’t believe it. Can I have your autograph?”

  Cassie just frowned at them all. Apparently, Jack’s name meant something to them all.

  “Don’t you know who this is?” Timmy asked.

  “Just the Jack Merrill,” Bobby answered before she could even shake her head. “One of the greatest running backs that ever played for the Chicago Bears.”

  “That was ages ago,” Jack said. “When dinosaurs roamed the earth.”

  “Steeplejack Merrill,” Timmy said.

  “Steeplejack?” Cassie almost burst out laughing at the embarrassed look on Jack’s face.

  “He was called that because he never tried to dodge a tackler,” Bobby explained. “And when he hit them, they heard bells.”

  This time Cassie couldn’t restrain her laughter, shaking her head as she did.

  “Hey,” Jack protested. “It wasn’t my doing. A fella can’t always choose his nicknames.”

  “Poor baby,” Cassie murmured.

  Suddenly his baby blues turned dark like Lake Michigan in a storm. The laughing voices of children floated off into the sky and a whole range of desires and delights raced across her soul. She saw passion that could make her come alive again and sorrow that she could wipe away with the touch of her hand.

  By sheer force of will, she looked away. It was time for her to go home. Before she got into more trouble than she could handle.

  Chapter Two

  A certain wide smile seemed to dance in Jack’s thoughts as he unpacked boxes in his new office. A certain laughter seemed to echo in the air. It was too quiet in the building, he decided as he stacked books on a shelf. That was all. If it were some day other than Saturday, there would be lots of distractions and he wouldn’t be thinking of Cassie at all. Of how beautiful her eyes were or how relaxed he had felt with her.

  He wasn’t in the market for a relationship. Probably never would be. He stopped unpacking with a frown and stared out the window at the grassy expanse between buildings.

  Not being in the market for a relationship made him sound like a coward, and Merrill men weren’t cowards. Generations of them had left the family farms in the hills and gone to war. They were factory workers, like his father, fighting poverty and boredom to take care of their families, or miners, braving the dangers of the earth to earn a living. He himself had fought on the gridiron, facing three-hundred-pound linemen without flinching.

  No, this wasn’t fear in his heart. It was wisdom. It was knowing his limitations. It was realizing that love was a monster that hid under the bed until you were feeling safe and cozy and almost asleep. Then it reached out and grabbed you and made a fool of you, set you up for laughter and ridiculesomething that was never going to happen to him again.

  He turned from the window. He might as well give this up and go home. He would get the girls and they would do something with the afternoon.

  He drove home and parked the car in the drive. Although his feet wanted to hurry up his front steps, his gaze strayed over to Cassie’s house. It was smaller than his, with a tiny yard, but it had charm and a quiet beauty that somehow seemed to match Cassie.

  But even as his eyes admired her house, his heart felt a certain sinking. Her yard was empty. Her doors were
closed to the warm spring air. She wasn’t home.

  Which shouldn’t matter to him in the slightest. His only interest in her was as a neighbor. And in paying her back for her help last night.

  He hurried up to his front door and pushed it open. “Hello!” he shouted. “I’m home.”

  The only sound that answered him was the piano moaning in pain and pleading for mercy. He made his way to the living room.

  “Hey,” he said. “You guys are starting to sound good.”

  Blessed silence descended from the heavens as Mary Louise stopped beating on the keys. His aunt and two daughters turned to stare at him, eyes hard. Probably because he’d gone and used the G word—guys—again.

  “You just about done practicing?”

  “Uh-huh,” Mary Alice said, jumping down from her spot on the end of the bench.

  “Ah, I was just thinking…” There was something this weekend down at the mall on the south side of town, something with animals. “I was thinking of taking the girls down to the mall. They have something called Ag Days this weekend.”

  “Ag Days?” Two pairs of blue eyes, both filled with suspicion, stared at him.

  “Farm stuff,” Jack said. “Cows, horses, rabbits, tractors.”

  “Horses?” Mary Alice asked, her eyes suddenly springing back to life.

  “Bunnies?” Mary Louise began jumping up and down with excitement. “Little baby bunnies?”

  The girls looked at each other and the identical pink dresses they wore. “We can’t go like this,” they said. “These aren’t farm clothes.”

  Oh, Lord. Jack felt his shoulders drop into a small slump. There were times when it seemed his kids needed about ninetynine different outfits. It wasn’t that he wanted to deny them anything, but he wasn’t comfortable with their fixation on clothes.

  “Can we wear jeans?” they asked. “That’s what people wear on the farm.”

  “Yeah,” he answered. “Jeans are fine.”

  That sent them dashing upstairs.

  Jack sank into an easy chair and looked around the room. The house was about eighty years old, but well kept up and with a quiet elegance. There was a sense of permanence here that he hadn’t had most of the time when he was growing up. Then, his father’s search for work had taken them from town to townjust as Jack’s stint in pro football had taken him all over the country. He preferred permanence; knowing that this would last and last and last.

  “The faucet doesn’t leak anymore.”

  Jack was so intent on his thoughts, his aunt’s words took him unawares. Turning, he just stared at her.

  “That young lady is very competent,” his aunt said.

  “Cassie?”

  “Cassandra. That’s such a pretty name.” She nodded and smiled slightly. “And dignified. A proper name for a lady.” His aunt nodded again. “Don’t see much of that these days.”

  Jack found himself swirling in a pool of fantasies. Cassie dressed casually in jeans and a knit shirt, but looked like a million dollars. Cassie crawling around on the floor fixing sinks, and making him feel she could fix anything. Cassie with her hair cut short and her eyes glowing, daring him to reach for love again. He fought to surface from his thoughts.

  “She looks like a strong young woman,” Aunt Hattie said.

  “Yeah,” Jack replied. “Wrestling with pipes and tools all day would probably do that to a body.”

  “Jimmy Jack Merrill.”

  He could feel his cheeks warm. The only people living who knew his given name were himself and Aunt Hattie.

  “You know damn good and well what I’m talking about. There’s other kinds of strength besides muscles.”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  “She’s one a body could count on in a pinch.”

  He just sighed. This wasn’t the first time they’d had this conversation. “I’m not looking for someone,” he reminded.

  “The girls need a mother.”

  “The girls are fine.”

  “You need a wife.”

  “I’m fine.”

  “Hiding from love isn’t fine,” she informed him. “That Daphne was a selfish little twit. You can’t live with your head buried under a bushel basket because of her.”

  “I’m not hiding from anything,” Jack insisted. “The perfect woman for me doesn’t exist.”

  “There isn’t any such thing as a perfect man or woman,” Aunt Hattie snapped. “You just need to find someone who comes close and compromise the rest.”

  “No one comes close,” he declared.

  “Of course not,” Aunt Hattie said. “Not with that stiffnecked pride of yours.”

  Two sets of feet were clattering down the stairs and Jack sighed in relief. Escape was at hand.

  “We’re ready,” the girls cried.

  “All right.” He got to his feet. “Last one to the car gets mud in her ice-cream cone.”

  The girls raced off, and he followed, conscious of Aunt Hattie’s knowing gaze on him the whole way. She really didn’t understand. He wasn’t looking for perfection. He wasn’t looking for anybody. But if he was, he’d be looking for someone who would accept him as he was. Not someone who wanted to own him or to make him jump through hoops. And he didn’t think such a woman existed.

  “Daddy?” Mary Alice said as they reached the minivan.

  “Can Cassie come with us?” Mary Louise asked.

  “I don’t think she’s home.”

  “Go see.” They both pointed at the house next door.

  Jack glanced at the house, then back at his daughters. There was a little part of him that wanted to go over to ask her to come along, but it was easy to stomp down. “A man can’t just ask a lady out at the last minute,” he said. “It’s not polite.”

  “Why not?”

  “It’s like assuming she doesn’t have anything important of her own to do.”

  “But she might not know about the bunnies.”

  “I’m sure she does.” They were like this with every woman that he showed half interest in. Did they miss a mother’s care so much that they were willing to accept anyone as a substitute? But then they usually calmed down once the women started fawning over them.

  “But what if she doesn’t?”

  Jack sighed. “I just can’t—”

  “I know,” Mary Louise said as the two girls took off running toward Cassie’s house.

  “Hey!” Jack cried.

  “We’re not a man,” Mary Alice called back to him. “We can ask her.”

  “I don’t think—” But just as they neared the house, Cassie’s truck pulled up in front and he hurried after the girls.

  “Hi, Cassie,” the girls were calling, hurrying over to the passenger side of the truck to wave through to her.

  “Hi,” she called back and got out, a grocery bag in her arms.

  She walked around the truck and smiled at Jack. His silly brain forgot all his apologies and explanations of why the girls had come over. All he could do was feel the warmth of her smile down into his toes.

  “You all come to help me carry in my groceries?” she was saying, her voice filled with laughter. “Sorry to disappoint you, but I’ve only got one bag.”

  “I can take it,” he offered, reaching out for the bag, but she dodged his outstretched arms.

  “We’re going to see the horses and bunnies,” Mary Alice said.

  “Do ya wanna come along?” Mary Louise asked.

  “Daddy said you’d be busy.”

  That was all he needed—for Cassie to think he didn’t want her to come. “That’s not exactly what I said, girls,” he told them, still reaching back for the grocery bag. Cassie stepped away. “I meant she might have other things planned.”

  “Actually, I do,” she said. “I’m really sorry. Maybe some other time.”

  “That’s all right.” Although he was absurdly disappointed. Not that he ought to be. He should be relieved, glad even that the girls’ little scheme wasn’t going to throw him and Cassie together.r />
  “Where’s your dog?” Mary Louise was asking.

  “Can we come and play with him sometime?”

  “Sure,” Cassie replied. “He likes to play.”

  “Girls, it’s not polite to invite yourselves over,” he scolded lightly. He took each of them by the hand. It was time they let Cassie go inside and got on their way themselves.

  “We don’t got a dog,” Mary Louise said. “We got a piano.”

  “We should be going, girls,” he said gently and nodded at Cassie. “See you around—”

  Mary Alice dug her feet in and refused to be pulled toward their house. “Do you wanna come to a picnic with us? It’s on Morial Day and for the school where Daddy’s gonna teach.”

  “Girls!” He was appalled at their invitation. Appalled at the surge of hope in his heart.

  “She said, ‘Another time,’ Daddy,” Mary Louise reminded him.

  “So I did,” Cassie admitted with a laugh.

  “It’s okay that she comes, isn’t it, Daddy?” Mary Alice asked.

  He could feel three pairs of eyes staring his way and he gave in. Caved in. Rushed in to grab hold of the hope like a balloon he was afraid would be blown away.

  “Sure,” he said heartily. “If she wants to.”

  “Daddy said it’s okay,” Mary Louise told Cassie, as if she might not have heard.

  “And it won’t count for what Daddy owes you,” Mary Alice added.

  Cassie just laughed—a sound that danced on his heart and brought a smile to his lips. “I wish I could,” she said “I really do, but I already promised I’d go to someone else’s picnic.”

  “Aw.” It was the girls who said it aloud, but the disappointment was echoed in Jack’s heart.

  It was just as well, though, he told himself. It would be nice to be friends with her—good neighbors, as it were—but a dating relationship would just change all that. No, this definitely was for the best.

  “Well, we should be on our way,” Jack said, this time not getting any resistance from the girls. “And I haven’t forgotten that I owe you.”