Second Chance Father. Renee Andrews

Second Chance Father - Renee Andrews


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Saying the words aloud helped to reassure himself, as did selecting the next piece of wood. Surely staying busy would keep the illusions at bay.

      The thick plank of mahogany held its weight well, and Jack liked knowing that he would create a piece that would last for generations. Not that he’d have any subsequent generations to continue the Simon name.

      “Hello?” The lyrical voice, undeniably female, provided a stark contrast to Jack’s present frustration. He relaxed his grip on the mahogany and turned toward the spot where the kid had been.

      The woman from the woods—the exquisite lady from his dreams—gingerly stepped over a cluster of tree roots as she edged into the clearing.

      What would he imagine next, twin girls with pale blond pigtails and eyes that sparkled when they laughed? Jack closed his eyes, inhaled deeply and embraced the reminder of reality. The scents of fresh sawdust, crisp pine and damp earth. Then, exhaling slowly, he listened to the haunting sounds of the slight wind pushing through the trees.

      Several long moments passed.

      He finally opened his eyes, expecting the hallucination to be gone.

      Still there.

      In case this wasn’t a delusion, Jack cleared his throat and repeated, “Hello.” His voice came out as coarse and grainy as he felt, and the woman’s widened eyes and hand to her heart showed her shock at his near-growl.

      No doubt about it, this wasn’t a dream. She was as real as the heavy slab of wood in his hands.

      He made another attempt. “Sorry. I’m...not...used to visitors.”

      Her head moved in a subtle nod, but she stopped progressing toward him, which Jack understood. He hadn’t showered yet today and it had been weeks since he’d shaved. His hand drifted to his face, fingers scrubbing across a thick, wiry mass of beard.

      When was the last time he’d actually looked in the mirror?

      The golden afternoon sunlight sliced through the trees and shimmered against her pretty brown hair as she took a step forward. She wore a button-up sheer floral blouse over a peach T-shirt, extremely feminine, but also outdoorsy when paired with her dark blue jeans and hiking boots. Shoving her hands in her pockets, she peered toward his log cabin, then scanned the area to his right, and then his left, regarding him as more of an obstruction than an asset to her obvious search.

      Jack suspected he knew what—or rather, who—she wanted to see.

      Determined to make his voice less gruff, he cleared his throat. “You looking for a young boy?”

      One arched brow shot up, eyes widening even more, and her jaw tensed. “Have you seen him? Is he okay?”

      He thought about his old flannel shirt, the sleeves pushed up to the elbows and covered with sawdust. The equally worn jeans that were his favorite, because his kids had given them to him on the last Father’s Day he celebrated. And the work boots he’d bought when he decided to live the rest of his days in solitude, disappearing in what he’d thought to be uninhabited terrain, in North Alabama, of all places.

      Maybe he was crazy. And maybe, considering his unkempt state of dress, he looked like an ax murderer.

      At least he wasn’t holding a chain saw.

      “I didn’t hurt him,” he said, which, judging from her reaction, may not have been the smartest thing to say.

      * * *

      Elise Ramsey didn’t know what she expected to find when she’d gone searching for Cody in the woods, beyond finding the boy, that is. But she certainly hadn’t expected to happen upon this big, burly guy in the middle of the forest. “You didn’t hurt him?”

      What did that mean? And where was Cody now? She continued scanning the area around the log cabin but saw no sign of her patient.

      “No, I didn’t.” He placed a huge plank of wood across two sawhorses and swiped a sleeve across his forehead. “He was here, and I tried to talk to him, but he didn’t respond.”

      “He wouldn’t have. He can’t.” She closed her eyes and said a prayer for the boy. He’d disappeared yesterday at the same time, during the late-afternoon devotional, when the kids of Willow’s Haven all gathered at the fire pit to be reminded of God’s place in their lives and that they were all loved and wanted. Something many of them couldn’t say about their lives before.

      “He can’t?” His head tilted, forehead wrinkled in confusion. “Can’t speak?”

      Elise silently scolded herself for letting her rattled disposition interfere with her natural filter regarding her patient. But she hadn’t told this bearded stranger anything that she couldn’t share. Anyone who encountered Cody learned quickly enough that he’d stopped speaking. “He can,” she corrected, “but he doesn’t. Not anymore. Or at least not yet.” Hopefully she’d make progress with the child she’d already grown to care so much about, and he would find his voice again.

      “He stopped talking?” The man pushed his sleeves up and then crossed his arms in a move that brought her attention to muscled forearms. Bulging biceps. And the extent of just how much larger he was than Cody. Or Elise. “What happened to him?” he asked.

      Did he know? Was Cody still here?

      A frisson of fear shimmied down her spine, but she held her ground. Cody was her responsibility, and she needed to verify that he was okay. This guy said he didn’t hurt Cody, but he certainly looked like he could hurt someone. Granted, she’d never spent any time in the woods before her current placement at Willow’s Haven, but even if she had, she wouldn’t have expected to run upon a man who looked like he’d been dropped out of the Wild West. Minus the horses. And the guns.

      She hoped.

      God, please, keep Cody safe.

      “Where is he?” Elise hated that her voice trembled on the last word and said another quick prayer for courage.

      The man unfolded his arms, moved a palm to his forehead and then pinched the bridge of his nose as though warding off a migraine. The action looked more like something she’d expect from someone sitting behind a desk than a rough-hewn fellow in the woods. Finally, he spoke, but his voice didn’t spark the fear it had before. “I don’t know where he is. I tried to talk to him and he ran off.”

      “Where was he? Where did you see him, exactly?” She needed a clue on where to find Cody. Had he returned to Willow’s Haven, like before, or had he wandered deeper into the forest?

      He pointed toward the woods. “There, same place he showed up yesterday. Disappeared right before you got here.”

      That got her attention. “He came here yesterday?” She pulled her hands from her pockets and planted them on her hips. “You didn’t try to find out why an eleven-year-old was wandering the woods? Didn’t think you should call the police?” If he had, she would have known where Cody had been yesterday, or where he might go again. Like he’d done today. “You didn’t think someone would want to know that he was here? In the middle of nowhere?”

      He took a deep breath, and her attention moved to the hard outline of his chest, easily visible in spite of his loose flannel shirt. The guy was built, but she didn’t notice in an oh-how-rugged kind of way. Rather, she noticed in a he’s-strong-and-could-hurt-someone kind of way.

      The broad shoulders lifted and then fell. “I wasn’t sure he was real.” His words seemed to surprise himself as much as Elise, and she merely stood there, mouth agape, and wondered how to respond.

      He wasn’t sure Cody was real?

      “Unbelievable.” Clearly, trying to converse with this mountain of a man wasn’t helping her find her young patient, so she turned and started down the trail. He’d found his way back yesterday; maybe he’d done the same today. And if Mountain Man planned to hurt her, he could just start coming. He was big, but she was fast, and she’d give him a good run for his money


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