Maybe she was meant to take care of them.
seven
The porch rocker creaked as Linc leaned back, turning his face up to the inky black starlit sky. Crickets chirped from the trees, and September wind wafted over the deck, stirring his hair, drying the sheen of sweat he hadn’t been able to shake the entire time he and Zoey had wandered around the general store with Amelia.
His daughter.
He rocked harder, shut his eyes. But that only provided a backdrop for images, memories, to play like a projector. Kirsten’s wild black hair, impish grin always suggesting trouble. The fancy picnic dinner he couldn’t afford but had managed to throw together anyway. Charcuterie, wine, heart-shaped glasses.
Figured theonetime he’d drunk underage he’d made an epic mistake. He’d just wanted to do something nice for Kirsten. Had felt her slipping away, thought a Valentine’s date would interest her again. She’d been hanging with new friends, and he’d suspected the drug use even then.
He’d underestimated her.
The screen door opened, and Zoey joined him on the porch, wearing a giant sweatshirt and leggings, her face clean of makeup. She took the chair next to him without asking if he wanted company and sank onto it, pulling her knees up to her chin. How she always sat like a fairy perched on a mushroom was beyond him.
“You okay?” She turned her head to face him, cornflower eyes shining against pale skin, lit by the nearly full moon above.
He rocked again, his chest heavy. “Defineokay.”
“My definition or Webster’s?”
“Yours is probably more interesting.”
“Hmm.” She tilted her head. “Okay—an adverb meaning you could be worse but could be better.”
“Sounds about right.” He’d definitely be a lot worse if Zoey hadn’t been there. He should tell her that, but his tongue felt thick. Vulnerability wasn’t his thing, and Zoey knew that.
Surely she knew he appreciated her too.
His rocker creaked. “All these years, I had a daughter out there. This person just running around with my DNA.”
“And your attitude.” Zoey grinned.
“That too.”
“She’s finally asleep, though that new radio you got her is still blaring early 2000s pop hits.”
Yuck. At least it wasn’t country. “Maybe we can get her into rock.” Sort of seemed like music was going to be the least of his worries in the days and weeks to come. Would it really be that long?
Too many questions. Zero answers.
Zoey tugged her sweatshirt over her bent knees. “So…you have a daughter.”
He sucked in a deep breath. “I have a daughter.”
“You really didn’t know?”
“I wish everyone would quit asking me that.”
She shrugged one shoulder. “Seems like a fair question.”
He shot his gaze sideways to her. The urge to be vulnerable, to share, to seek relief, welled to the surface. But last time he’d poured out his heart, it had been to Kirsten, and they’d—yeah. It’d ended badly. So no.
Still…He raised an eyebrow. “If I had known, you would know.”
A little smile tugged at Zoey’s lips, and she hugged her legs closer. “I figured.”
He shook his head. She liked knowing things, and especially liked knowing things abouthimthat no one else did. Not really sure why that made her feel special. He wasn’t exactly a jackpot of interesting information.
