“I’m really sorry about that. You know if I’d gotten the message, nothing could have kept me away.”
“Of course I know it. That’s why I was worried about you when you didn’t show up right away.”
Harry swallowed hard. “I have to tell you something, Dalton.”
“Out with it. I’m not so delicate I’ll swoon, you know.”
“Well, to come right to the point, I met your daughter today.”
Dalton lurched, he was so surprised, and Harry rushed to soothe him. “Settle down now before they throw me out of here.”
“But I don’t understand! You met her? Where?”
“In the grocery. She was there, evidently waiting to see your reaction to her letter, though I didn’t know she’d sent a letter. I didn’t…ah, find out she was your daughter until much later.”
“This is incredible!”
“Yes, I know.” Harry didn’t mean to sound facetious, but the whole situation was too ironic. That last kiss that Charlie had forced on him—forced, ha!—had damn near killed him. He’d forgotten himself, and within a heartbeat he’d had her pressed against the stairwell wall, her small hands clutching him, her hips squirming against his, inciting his lust, making him hard. Damn. Even now he gasped with the pleasure of it. Never in his adult years had he been hit by so much uncontrollable lust. He’d tasted Charlie and wanted to go on tasting her, everywhere, all over her small sweet body. He could have spent hours doing just that.
He shook, remembering.
He’d been a hairsbreadth away from taking her right there in the stairwell, and probably would have if a commotion in the bar hadn’t jolted him out of his lust-induced stupor.
After that, he’d all but run from her. And she’d actually had the gall to laugh at his predicament.
He shook his head, wondering how he was ever going to be able to handle this absurd situation. A reluctant smile caught him unawares. “She’s something else, Dalton. A little bitty thing, barely reaching my shoulder.”
“Everyone just barely reaches your shoulder, Harry. You’re what we average people call tall.”
“She’s shorter than most, though. But you’re right about the guts. Ralph and Floyd tried to intimidate her, but she easily got the best of them. Calling her fearless would be a gross understatement.”
Dalton shuddered. “Thank God you were there to keep her safe. If those hoodlums had hurt her…”
Harry had a feeling she might have done just fine on her own. Under no circumstances would he tell Dalton that she’d been dressed as a boy—or that he was the one who’d inadvertently blown her cover.
Dalton drew a slow breath. “When I last saw her, she was nine, missing a few teeth, skinny as a twig, and loved football much more than dolls. Her mother kept her hair cut short so she wouldn’t have to spend time working the tangles out. If I remember it right, Charlotte begged her to do the cutting. She was the epitome of the American tomboy. Of course, she’s a young lady now, so none of that matters.
“I worked too many long days back then, and I missed out on so much. Then I caught her mother cheating, found out it wasn’t even the first time, and when I sued for divorce, the witch ran off with my kids.”
Harry left the chair to sit on the side of the bed. He clasped Dalton’s shoulder. “You can explain it all to her now, Dalton. She’ll understand. From the time I spent with her, I can tell she inherited her father’s intelligence.”
“Did she mention me at all?”
This was the tough part, but Harry didn’t see any way around a few truths. “As a matter of fact, she wanted to hire me to find out more about you.”
“No fooling?” Dalton seemed pleased by his daughter’s curiosity.
Harry nodded. “I didn’t say I already knew you. I wanted to give you the chance to tell her everything yourself.”
“Did you…you know, get a feel for what she thinks of me? What her mother might have told her about me?”
Harry hesitated, unsure just how far he could stretch the truth.
“Out with it, Harry.” He grinned. “From her note, I’m already assuming she has a healthy chip on her shoulder where I’m concerned. And knowing her mother the way I did, I can easily guess at how she probably lied about me.”
Helpless, Harry admitted, “I think that’s more the case than not. Charlie seemed under the impression you’d abandoned them.”
“Charlie?”
“That’s the name she goes by.”
“Ridiculous! She has a lovely name.”
Harry kept his opinion in check. By his way of thinking, Charlie suited her much better than the too reserved Charlotte. Of course, Dalton wasn’t reacquainted with her, so couldn’t yet know that.
“Did she mention Jillian at all?”
Ah, safer ground. “Actually, I met her. It’s a long story, and no, get that look out of your eye because I’m not telling it right now. You’ve had enough excitement for one day.”
“Tyrant.”
“I promise to fill you in on all the details tomorrow. But as to Jillian, she’s a lovely girl. Eighteen now, and the opposite of Charli—Charlotte. Tall, light brown hair. But the same blue eyes.”
Dalton’s blue eyes crinkled at the corners with a huge smile. “I have an idea, Harry.”
Harry rubbed his forehead with a sigh. The past several hours had depleted him sorely. He needed some sleep, he needed something to eat.
He needed Charlie.
His head snapped up with that errant thought, and he coughed. “Dalton, I’m sure if I go to her now and tell her what’s happened—”
“No! You can’t do that. Why, she might blame herself for my ill health. Finding out the truth, that I didn’t leave her, is going to be enough of an adjustment. She’ll know her mother lied all along, that she kept us apart out of sheer spite. That’d be tough for any young lady to accept, especially now that Rose is gone and can’t admit the truth.”
“Dalton, this particular young lady is tougher than shoe leather. Really. I don’t think—”
“No. I tell you, it’d be too much. And if she thought she caused my heart attack—which of course she didn’t—”
“Of course not,” Harry agreed with wry cynicism.
“—she just might run off again. I can’t take that chance, now that I’m so close to being reunited with her. She just might leave without giving me time to explain.”
From what Harry knew of Charlie, she wasn’t going anywhere without enough money to get her sister started in the college of her choice. The woman could vie with a herd of mules and come out ahead on stubbornness.
“No,” Dalton continued, thinking out loud, “a better idea will be if you pretend to work for her.”
“What?”
He rubbed his hands together. “You can soften her up for me, Harry. Leave little hints about the past, pretend to uncover clues about how much I do care for her, to let her know I wasn’t just another neglectful father. Then she can get accustomed to the idea little by little. When she’s ready, you can arrange a meeting between us.”