Page 18 of Anchor Point

“No, sweetheart. He doesn’t know.” For some odd reason, the old shame of being unwed and pregnant by a stranger rose like a knife to my heart. This whole move, the job, now this new obsession of Rosie’s to find her dad… it was overwhelming.

I sat forward, the journal blurring as I fought back tears. I placed it on the table in front of us and took my baby girl’s hands in both of mine.

“I don’t know what you think of me,” I started, my voice trembling, “and I don’t know if I want to know. I am so ashamed that you found out about him. That you went through this without telling me, because I’m sure you had lots of questions.”

I paused, racking my brain as to how to continue. Knowing that I just needed to get it all out and give her the whole, honest truth. She deserved it. Mac deserved it.

“I was scared when I realized I was pregnant. I knew who the father was, but I couldn’t find him to tell him. Things were different then. Plus, I was just starting a dangerous career that kept me away from home every third day. I was terrified. When Tim and I started dating and fell in love, I was grateful because he stepped up. He treated you like you were his, he loved you as his own, and once upon a time, he took care of us.”

I paused again as the words stuck in my throat. “But no, Mac doesn’t know about you. I tried, but I could never find him to tell him about you.” A tear leaked from the corner of her eye, leaving a wet trail down her precious cheek, and her hands twisted in mine, gripping them hard.

The simple hold gave me courage. “Sweetheart, I love you more than life itself. I can’t help feeling that I’ve disappointed you. That my mistakes are hurting you. I thought Tim would be in our lives forever. But marriages fail, and when he started treating you badly because of resentment he held for me…”

It broke my heart that he’d taken his attitude and anger at me out on her. That I’d brought her into this world not knowing where even to start to find her father. She was innocent in this mess, and I’d carry the guilt for my lifetime. Not just the guilt toward Rosie, but the guilt toward Mac as well. I’d done them both such a grave injustice by taking the easy way out.

I gave her hands a squeeze because, above all else, she needed to know the rest—the most important part. “Please know, I never thought twice about whether I should keep you. You were a gift. You are a gift. The most precious thing in my life. I’ll find the courage to face Mac and tell him about you, which is the fair thing to do. No matter what his response is… always know that I made the choice to keep you and love you.”

She was silent, watching me, letting my words sink in. She’d always been a smart girl with a big loving heart, and knowing who her father was—and not having contact—would eat at her. She’d proven that by orchestrating a whole move to the same town as him without my having any knowledge.

“Did you love him?” she whispered.

And that was her real issue. She needed to know she was created by love—as if it made any difference at all.

“Almost from the moment I met him. Telling him goodbye was the hardest thing I’d ever done.”

Her brow furrowed in confusion. “Then why…?”

I lifted a shoulder. “We shared first names only and agreed to keep our time together lighthearted and fun. A fling. I was young, starting a new career. He was older and getting over someone else, and I knew he wasn’t ready to jump right into a relationship with me. The only thing I regret is that I didn’t have a way to contact him to let him know about you.” My voice broke as I finished, and then my girl pulled me into her arms and offered me the same comfort I’d given to her countless times over her life. And being the pathetic fool I was, I allowed my daughter to hold me.

“No matter what, I love you,” I whispered into her neck.

“No matter what, I love you too, Mom.”

I pulled out of her arms and sat back, cupping her face and stroking her hair. She really was the most beautiful girl in the world. “We’ll decide when the time is right, but for now, I’m going to ask you to let this go. It’s not the right time to bring this up. But thank you for showing me this picture.”

Her eyes searched mine. “You just…” She paused and started over. “You look so happy in it. I just want you to be happy, Mom.”

Oh, my sweet, soulful child. “I was happy. The day that photo was taken, we’d had a great day on the beach. It was the day before we were leaving, and we made the most of it. But I am also happy now. We have so much to look forward to.”

“Will you tell me about him?”

I hesitated. This path, her questions, all of it… what good could come from it? She’d want to know everything about him. She’d want to meet him and try to know him. What if he wasn’t open to the idea? What if he rejected her? She’d already been devastated by one other father figure. I didn’t want to take the risk of her getting hurt more.

“Honey, give me some time to think it over. To get used to the idea that I have to see him on a regular basis. I’ll tell him, I promise. Because he deserves to know. I never intentionally hid you from him. But can we just take things slowly for now? Get settled and get our bearings, and then we’ll decide what to do.”

The doorbell rang, ending the heavy conversation. I jumped up to answer it while Rosie cleared away the journal and photo, and then we stuffed ourselves full of pepperoni. She didn’t mention it again, but somehow, I knew—things were going to change. I knew it, could feel it. And I couldn’t stop it. I just hoped we’d all come out unscathed on the other side.

Chapter Six

Mac

The whole situation around the new chief was a thorn in my side, and something just seemed off about it. Maybe it made sense bringing in someone from the outside, given the amount of bullshit our department had been through in the past couple of years. The weird circumstance the former chief had left under—with allegations of favoritism—then the interim chief having to deal with the tornado and following months of recovery. Then the whole bullshit of the arson case.

That one still haunted me because I’d almost lost a good man. Finding Thoren nearly dead in that house, lying next to his twin, had almost broken me.

But the new chief was a different kind of wrinkle.

It was bad enough bringing in fresh blood to our station and not knowing if she had an agenda, but my personal connection, and my reaction to seeing her again… all of it was so damn confusing and complicated. The way she looked directly through me with zero reaction stung. I’d had to work damn hard to keep my face neutral. To appear unaffected—like my body didn’t automatically respond to hers.

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