Belle Calhoune - Alaskan Reunion

“I listened to what you had to say when you came by the café. Can’t you give me the same courtesy?” he asked, trying to appeal to Paige’s innate sense of fair play. Was she even the same person she used to be?

“It’s late, Cameron. Can’t we just talk tomorrow? It’s been a long day.” Her voice sounded slightly muffled from the other side of the door.

“I need to talk to you. Now. This can’t wait till morning.”

The click of a lock turning echoed in the stillness. The door crept open until he could see Paige standing there with her body blocking the entrance.

“I told you we could talk tomorrow,” she said in a hushed tone.

He stepped forward. “Can I come in? There are some questions I need answers to.”

Paige’s hazel eyes were wide. Her complexion had lost a bit of its rosy color. “N-now isn’t a good time, Cameron.”

“And why is that? You showed up at my place of business unannounced and unloaded all this stuff on me, but I can’t ask any follow-up questions?”

“You can,” she said in a soft voice. “Just not now.” She cast a quick glance over her shoulder.

Why was she looking behind her? Was someone staying at the house with her? All his nerve endings were suddenly on edge. Something about Paige’s body language was sending out warning signals. She was hiding something from him.

“Mama!” The earsplitting cry came from inside the house. Paige’s eyes began blinking rapidly and she took a step backward. She fumbled for a moment, then tried to shut the door. His arm snaked out, preventing her from closing it in his face.

“Mama?” His voice came out hoarse and ragged. The thought of Paige being a mother almost brought him to his knees. Had he failed to notice a wedding ring? Had Paige married someone else? Given birth to another man’s child?

“I need to check on my daughter.” Paige choked out the words. Cameron watched as she spun around and took a few steps toward an older woman who was standing in the foyer holding a wailing child. Feeling stunned, Cameron crossed the threshold and pushed the door closed behind him. The scene unfolding before his very eyes captivated him. He couldn’t have looked away if he’d tried. Paige was tenderly cradling a toddler in her arms while the older woman muttered apologies. Within seconds the loud cries stopped. He heard a little chuckle burst forth from the baby. She had one of Paige’s curls wrapped around her chubby finger.

“I’ll put her down in a little bit, Fiona. Don’t worry about us. Go get some rest.”

“Thank you, Miss Paige. See you in the morning. Nighty night, sweet peach.” The Fiona woman darted a curious glance in his direction, then headed up the stairs.

“Night night,” the girl said, turning her head and waving her tiny hand at Fiona.

Cameron let out a gasp as he caught his first full-on glimpse of the little wailer. Nothing in his life up to this point had prepared him for this one moment in time. Everything around him stilled and hushed. With her chocolate-colored hair, wild curls and almond-shaped eyes, she evoked dozens of his own childhood photos. Her green-hazel eyes brought the truth home. He placed his fingers over the bridge of his nose and squeezed tightly, then blinked in rapid succession. Was he seeing things?

He might be all kinds of crazy, but in his humble opinion the toddler was his spitting image. Yes, indeed. This little girl was a Prescott, through and through.

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