Diana Palmer - Reluctant Father

“How long has Sarah been with you?” she asked him.

“Since yesterday afternoon,” he replied dryly. “It seems like years. I guess I’ll get used to her, but it’s hard going right now. She’s a handful.”

“She’s just frightened and alone,” Elissa replied. “She’ll improve when she has time to settle down and adjust.”

“I may be bankrupt by then,” he mused. “I had to walk out of a board meeting. And all because Sarah Jane wanted a frilly dress.”

“Why don’t you buy it for her and she can come to my Danielle’s birthday party next week? It will be nice for her to meet children her own age.”

“She’ll sit on the cake and wreck the house,” he groaned.

“No, she won’t. She’s just a little girl.”

“She wrecked my living room in just under ten minutes,” he assured her.

“It takes mine five minutes to do that.” Elissa grinned. “It’s normal.”

He stared toward the bathroom. Meredith and Sarah Jane were just coming out. “There are people in the world who have more than one,” he murmured. “Do you suppose they’re sane?”

Elissa laughed. “Yes. You’ll understand it all one day.”

“Look what Merry gave me!” Sarah enthused, showing Blake a snowy white handkerchief. “And it’s all mine! It has lace!”

Blake shook his head as she turned abruptly and grabbed the dress she’d been screaming about. “It’s mine. I want it. Oh, please.” She changed tactics, staring up pie eyed at her daddy. “It will go so nicely with my new handkerchief.”

Blake laughed and then caught himself. He looked at Mrs. Jackson. “What do you think?”

“I think that if you buy Sarah Jane that dress I’m going to put it on you,” the older woman replied in a hunted tone.

“You really shouldn’t give in because children have tantrums, Blake,” Mrs. Donaldson volunteered. “I know. I raised four.”

He stared at Mrs. Jackson. “You started this. Why would you tell her she couldn’t have the damned thing in the first place?”

“I told you, it was too expensive for her to play in.”

“She’ll need a dress to come to Danielle’s party,” Elissa broke in.

“Now see what you’ve done,” Blake growled at Mrs. Jackson.

“I won’t take her shopping ever again. You can just let somebody else run your company and do it yourself,” Mrs. Jackson grumbled.

“I don’t know what to think of a woman who can’t manage to buy a dress for one small child.”

“That isn’t just one small child, that’s one small Donavan, and nobody could say she isn’t your daughter!” Mrs. Jackson said.

Blake felt an unexpected surge of pleasure at the words. He looked down at the child who looked so much like him and had to agree that she did have some of his better qualities. Stubborn determination. Not to mention good taste.

“You can have the dress, Sarah,” he told her, and was rewarded by a smile so delightful he’d have sold his Mercedes to buy the damned thing for her no matter what it cost.

“Oh, thank you!” Sarah gushed.

“You’ll be sorry,” Mrs. Jackson said.

“You can shut up,” he told her. “It’s your fault.”

“You said to take her shopping, you didn’t say what to buy,” she reminded him huffily. “And I’m going home.”

“Then go on. And don’t burn lunch,” he called after her.

“I couldn’t burn a bologna sandwich if I tried, and that’s all you’ll get from me today!”

“I’ll fire you!”

“Thank God!”

Blake glared at Mrs. Donaldson and Elissa, who were trying not to smile. This byplay between Blake and Mrs. Jackson was old hat to them, and they found it amusing. Meredith’s expression was less revealing. She was looking at Sarah and Blake wished he could see her eyes.

But she turned away. “We’d better get on,” she told Elissa. “Bess will be waiting for us to pick her up at the beauty parlor.”

“Okay,” Elissa grinned. “Just let me get those socks for Danielle and I’ll be ready.”

She did, which left Meredith stranded with Blake and his daughter.

“Isn’t it pretty?” Sarah sighed, pirouetting with the dress held in front of her. “I look like a fairy princess.”

“Not quite,” Blake said. “You’ll need shoes, and some clothes to play in, too.”

“Okay.” She ran to the other racks and started looking through them.

“Is it normal for them to be so clothes conscious at this age?” Blake asked, turning his attention to Meredith.

“I don’t know,” she said uncomfortably. His unblinking green-eyed gaze was making her remember too much pain. “I haven’t been around children very much. I must go….”

He touched her arm, and was astonished to find that she jerked away from his touch and stared fully at him with eyes that burned with resentment and pain and anger.

“So, you haven’t forgotten,” he said under his breath.

“Did you really think I ever would?” she asked on a shaky laugh. “You were the reason I never came back here. I almost didn’t come this time, either, but I was tired of hiding.”

He didn’t know what to say. Her reaction was unexpected. He’d imagined that she might have some bitterness, but not this much. He searched what he could see of her face, looking for something he knew he wasn’t going to find anymore.

“You’ve changed,” he said quietly.

Her eyes looked up into his, and there was a flash of cold anger there. “Oh, yes, I’ve changed. I’ve grown up. That should reassure you. I won’t be chasing after you like a lovesick puppy this time.”

The reference stung, and she’d meant it to. He’d accused her of chasing him and more, after the reading of the will.

But being reminded of the past only made him bitter, and he hit back. “Thank God,” he said with a mocking smile. “Could I have that in writing?”

“Go to hell,” she said under her breath.

That, coming from shy little Meredith, floored him. He didn’t even have a comeback.

Sarah came running up with an armload of things. “Look, aren’t they pretty! Can I have them all?” she asked the scowling man beside Meredith.

“Sure,” he said absently.

Meredith turned away from him, smiling. It was the first time in memory that she’d ever fought back—or for that matter, said anything to him that wasn’t respectful and worshipful. What a delightful surprise to find he no longer intimidated her.

“Ready to go?” Meredith asked Elissa.

“Sure am. See you, Blake!”

“But you can’t go.” Sarah ran to Meredith and caught her skirt. “You’re my friend.”

The child couldn’t know how that hurt—to have Blake’s child, the child she might have borne him, cling to her. She knelt in front of Sarah, disengaging the small hand. “I have to go now. But I’ll see you again, Sarah. Okay?”

Sarah looked lost. “You’re nice. Nobody else smiles at me.”

“Mrs. Jackson will smile at you tonight, I promise,” Blake told the child. “Or she’ll never smile again,” he added under his breath.

“You don’t smile,” Sarah accused him.

“My face would break,” he assured her. “Now get your things and we’ll go home.”

She sighed. “Okay.” She looked up at Meredith. “Will you come to see me?”

Meredith went white. Go into that house again, where Blake had humiliated and hurt her? God forbid!

“You can come to see Danielle, Sarah,” Elissa interrupted, and Meredith knew then that Elissa had heard the whole story from King. She was running interference, bless her.

“Who’s Dan—Danielle?” Sarah asked.

“My daughter. She’s four.”

“I’m almost four,” Sarah said. “Can she say nursery rhymes? I know all of them. ‘Humpty Dumpty sat on the wall, Humpty Dumpty—’”