The Newcomer (Thunder Point #2)(58)

“Her resemblance to you is unmistakable, that’s for sure.”

“Are you married now? Do you have someone?” he asked.

“Not married, but yes, I have someone. You?”

He nodded. “A fiancée. She’s thirty. A web designer.” He laughed. “Hard to pull her away from the computer and out of the house. But she’s amazingly talented. She wants her own company. Who is your guy?”

She couldn’t help but laugh at the irony. She grinned. “The Deputy Sheriff.”

He smirked. “Figures. Well, I’m not in trouble anymore. Tell me more about her. About Ashley. Something happened. There’s some reason you’re here asking about diabetes and Crohn’s disease.”

“She had a breakdown,” Gina said simply. “She had a serious boyfriend, first love, and he dumped her and I could barely get her out of bed. She was saying things I couldn’t deal with—like that she didn’t even want to live. And then—” She stopped. She swallowed. Was this the kind of private stuff you don’t tell a stranger, even if he’s the father of your child? And without thinking any further she said, “And then the mean girl he’s now dating used Photoshop on a picture of her with na**d boobs and texted it to everyone on his phone list. It was up on the internet. She collapsed. I had to have her hospitalized.”

His face darkened, then grew crimson. He steepled his fingers to keep his hands from shaking. Then he pursed his lips.

“We were afraid we could be dealing with clinical depression, but the doctor is convinced she was just in crisis. She’s home now, doing much better. Except for some emotional disappointment now and then, she’s getting her strength back. But it was that crisis that led me to search you out, to ask about family medical history. I was scared to death, I don’t mind telling you that.”

“Who would do something like that?” he asked in a whisper.

She actually laughed, but it wasn’t a happy laugh. “A mean and jealous teenage girl would. Really, Eric, you have no idea how cruel people can be.” And then she thought about what she’d said. The man had spent five years in prison. Chances were he knew.

But he was gazing at her with serious eyes. “It must have been so hard,” he said softly. “Raising her alone.”

“There were hard times,” she admitted. “But I had my mother. And like you, I’ve made a good life for myself. I have strong relationships in Thunder Point and Ashley has a very solid support network and good friends. And I’m watching, I’m always watching. I won’t let anything happen to her.”

“If there’s anything I can do. Any way I can help. Like I said, I have a little money set aside and she wouldn’t have to know her father is a—”

“When Ashley is older, when I’m sure she’s stable and feeling good about herself, I’ll tell her about you. I mean, the new you—I’ve been honest with her about my past. Right now? I think we just leave it alone. No, I don’t want your money. But thank you for offering.”

“I only ask one thing, Gina. One small thing.” He pulled a card from his shirt pocket. “It’s my cell phone number. If there’s ever anything I can do for her. Anything. Will you call me?”

She stared at the number. “If I’d come around five years ago and asked for help, would you have been this receptive?”

“I changed my life,” he said. “I had to. The path I was on, I was going to die ugly and young. And hard as it is to believe, I didn’t want to. Five years ago? Yes, I think I would’ve tried to help—I was well on my way to a better life by then. But I’m sure now, beyond a doubt. If you need me, if Ashley needs me, I can do my best. If I could meet her someday... Ah, I’m not pushing on that. That’s just fantasy. But if she ever needs help, just call me.”

* * *

They talked for another half hour—she gave him news of the town, he told her about his family and some of his misadventures. Gina cried a little on the way home. It was not about regret. It was about gratitude. Her mother always said things happened the way they were supposed to. If she’d found a way to strap Eric to her seventeen years ago, she’d have found herself stuck with a felon; an irresponsible and heartless bad boy. But the world had done its job to shape him while she and Ashley were busy building their family together. And now, unless she was no judge at all, he really had rebuilt his character and his life.

She was lucky. She had Mac, the love of her life. And a phone number for emergencies.

Twelve

Cooper had to force himself to call Austin to start a dialogue and he had never found anything so unnatural or difficult. Making small talk with a shy ten-year-old was torture. Cooper asked him about school, about his grandparents, his dad, baseball. Austin responded with one-word answers then, invariably, Cooper would ask for Spencer so he could get the lowdown on how Austin was holding up since his mother’s passing.

“He’s doing well,” Spencer said. “He’s resilient and I think he was more than ready to start thinking about normal things. The last few years have been really hard on him.”

“And how about learning he has a new biological father on the scene?” Cooper asked.

“It’s news to you, Cooper, but we told Austin months before Bridget passed. He’s ten—if he was going to have another dad on the scene, all he hoped for was a cool one. You passed the cool test with your Jet Ski and Harley.”