An Unlikely Daddy. Rachel Lee

An Unlikely Daddy - Rachel  Lee


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Got a broomstick?”

      Arguing seemed utterly pointless. She gave him her broom, then listened to the dull thuds from the porch as he took down the icicles. In the kitchen, she opened the bag he’d brought, and her nose immediately filled with the amazing smell of oven-fresh bagels. For the first time that morning, she became genuinely hungry. Melinda, the bakery owner, had also tossed in a few small containers of cream cheese. At that point it seemed churlish not to set out a couple of plates and make some fresh coffee.

      Ryker came in, bringing the cold and the broom with him. “All done. Where should I put this?”

      She pointed to the pantry door at the back of the kitchen. “Just inside there. Thank you.”

      “Safety, that’s my thing,” he said as he put the broom away and shucked his jacket, revealing a gray flannel shirt that made his eyes and hair look even darker. “How are you this morning?”

      “I’m okay.” It was the best she could say. “I made coffee to go with the bagels. Do you drink it?”

      “By the gallon. But you don’t have to feed me just because—”

      She interrupted him, feeling a sense of desperation. “Let’s get past this, okay? Maybe you showed up out of nowhere without any warning. Maybe I don’t know you from Adam, but you’re here because of Johnny. One way or another we should both respect his wishes. He wanted you to check on me. I’m not going to tell you to get lost, at least not right away. You brought breakfast, which was nice, and I do have enough manners left to invite you to enjoy it with me. Okay?”

      For a couple of seconds he didn’t move, then a smile spread slowly. “Cutting to the chase, huh?”

      “As much as I can. We can spend the next few hours fencing around, but honestly, I hate wasting time like that. Especially now. Sit down. Eat. I’ll join you. Thank you for the bagels.”

      With a snort like a laugh, he took the chair she indicated at the kitchen table. The bagels were already sliced, so all they had to do was spread the cream cheese. Melinda, the bakery owner, had remembered that Marisa liked hers with chives. She hadn’t had room to feel much outside her own pained universe for the past few months, but she was touched now by Melinda’s thoughtfulness. So many good people around here, and she’d been avoiding most of them.

      Maybe Ryker’s arrival had jarred her out of her self-preoccupation. Was grief selfish? She supposed it was.

      At least he didn’t tell her to sit while he got the coffee, or otherwise imply that she wasn’t perfectly healthy. Lately, on the rare occasions she visited with her friends, they wanted her to let them take care of everything, as if she were an invalid. She understood they felt helpless to do much about anything else, but really, she was in good health and capable of getting a cup of coffee for someone.

      But then the awkwardness returned. Ryker decided to pierce it. “I probably know more about you than you do about me,” he remarked. “Johnny talked about you from time to time, but I gather he said little about me.”

      “He mentioned R.T. a couple of times, but, no, he didn’t say much. But then he didn’t talk much about his friends in the Rangers or later. It was like when he came home, he turned all that off.”

      “Probably wise,” Ryker said. He washed down a mouthful of bagel with some coffee. “Compartmentalizing, we call it. Keeping things separate. Why would he want to bring any of that home to you?”

      “But he talked about me,” she argued.

      “Once in a while. Sometimes everyone talked about home. Sometimes we needed to remember that there was a place or a person we wanted to get back to. The rest of the time we couldn’t afford the luxury.”

      That hit her hard, but she faced it head-on. Remembering home had been a luxury? That might have been the most important thing anyone had told her about what Johnny had faced and done.

      “I didn’t know him at all,” she whispered, squeezing her eyes shut, once again feeling the shaft of pain.

      “You knew the best part of him. That mattered to him, Marisa. You gave him a place where that part could flourish.”

      “But why?” she asked, opening her eyes. “Why do you get into this? This kind of life?”

      “I can’t speak for Johnny. Only for myself.”

      “Then tell me.”

      “I was young, hotheaded and determined to do something important with my life. And in case you start to wonder, Johnny did a lot of very important things. But we don’t know what it’ll cost when we cross the line and take up the work. We have no idea in hell what we’re getting into. No one can.”

      She managed a stiff nod and tried to eat some more bagel. The baby kicked, then she felt a little foot or hand trail slowly along her side.

      “Anyway,” Ryker continued after finishing half a bagel, “we do it for a variety of reasons. I wanted excitement. Exotic places. A sense of mission and purpose. Adrenaline junkie, I guess.”

      “And Johnny?”

      Ryker spread his hand. “By the time I met him, I couldn’t have guessed a thing about why. By then he was one of us. And as you so correctly said last night, by then he wouldn’t have been happy with a tamer life. Somehow, I guess that’s how we’re built.” He frowned faintly and looked past her. “I don’t know if I can make you understand, or even find the right words. But there’s a point where the mission becomes everything. It motivates every breath we take. Not for everyone, mind you. But for some of us...well, we get hooked. We don’t just carry the sword, we are the sword.” He shrugged and picked up another piece of bagel. “Unfortunately, the world needs swords. I’d have made a lousy plowshare, I guess.”

      The reference didn’t escape her. Her stomach turned over, and for a few seconds she felt so nauseated she wondered if she’d have to run to the bathroom.

      But memories floated back, instants out of time, just brief things she had heard or seen with Johnny, moments when he had seemed almost like someone else. Moments when she glimpsed the sword. They always passed swiftly, wiped away by a ready smile, but she’d seen them. She just hadn’t wanted to remember them.

      But recalling them now, she felt just awful that Johnny had felt the need to hide a very big part of himself from her. She’d have loved him no matter what. Hadn’t he trusted her?

      “We also get older,” Ryker continued. “So we change some more. I’m nearly forty. Too damn old for this business. Johnny was starting to feel the same way. So after I moved over to State, he asked me to let him know if something opened up.”

      “How could you give up the rush?”

      Another faint smile. Her insides prickled with unwanted awareness of him as a man. She shoved it quickly aside, and guilt replaced it. At least he was speaking.

      “It’s possible to get one without being the pointy tip of the sword. Besides, it’s important to know when the time has come. You can shift without giving up the mission or your sense of purpose. It’s safer for everyone. Johnny had started to think more about you, about being with you more.”

      Her breath caught. “He told you that?”

      “Actually, yes. When he asked me to let him know if there was a position for him, he said it, Marisa. He said he was thinking about all the time he’d missed being with you, and that he was ready to start down a different road. Unfortunately...”

      “Yes,” she said tightly. Unfortunately. Johnny had said the same thing when he told her was trying to get a job with the State Department. We’ll have more time together. We’ll even be able to travel together once in a while. I’ll need to work my way up a little higher on the food chain, but think of the places we could visit.

      How much of that had been real? “Just last night you said he knew it could be dangerous.”

      “It’s


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