Chapter 5
5
He had a daughter.
They had a daughter.
All his life, Kobe had dreamed of having a family. Falling in love and making babies. Creating a home where they would be loved and nurtured and given all the things he’d missed growing up. Not just material things and not just opportunities like athletics and education, but safety and security and encouragement and guidance. A mom and dad who cared what happened to them.
How had he not seen it yesterday? She had his distinctive eye color and her hair was the same shade his had been as a youngster. Maybe if Willa Leigh had mentioned her age, it would have clicked.
He had a daughter.
The phrase had been looping through his brain since Willa Leigh left the hotel an hour ago. For the first thirty minutes, he stared at the wall in stunned incredulity, emotion slowly building like thunderheads over the Atlantic.
He had a daughter.
Feeling trapped in the cheap hotel room, he got in his truck and drove. Just drove. Not sure where he was headed, but not surprised when he pulled up at Clements Pond.
His cell buzzed from the holder mounted on his dashboard, FRAZ displayed on the screen.
Frazier Dunloppe. Owner of one of the biggest spreads in Montana and a small-town judge. The man who saved his life and was more of a father to him than Gene Lewis every was.
“Hello, son.”
The old man’s quavery voice added to his distress. Six months ago, he’d suffered a massive heart attack. He’d insisted on signing the Big D Ranch over to Kobe, his sole heir since he’d never married or didn’t have extended family and had moved into the south wing of the sprawling ranch house, tended to by round-the-clock nursing staff.
“How are you, Fraz?”
“Same as yesterday. I have a tube shoved up my dick and can’t take a shit by myself.” He chuckled. “At least the nurses are pretty. Even the male ones.”
“I’m going to up their bonuses if that’s the kind of attitude you’re giving them.”
A brief silence stretched between them, both well aware of the truth: Frazier didn’t have much time.
“How’s it going? I thought you’d be on your way home by now.”
Home. He imagined Lulu riding one of the horses or climbing into the hayloft in search of the barn cats. It was easy to envision his daughter becoming part of his life there. What he couldn’t picture was where Willa Leigh fit in.
“You remember that girl I told you about? The one I walked away from when I left Love Beach?”
“She still there?”
“Yes, sir.”
“You saw her?”
“Yesterday.” Kobe swallowed around a huge knot of anger and confusion and twenty other emotions he couldn’t label. “With her…with our daughter. She told me this afternoon.”
“Do you believe her?”
It hadn’t occurred to him to not believe Willa Leigh. The math added up, as did the physical resemblance. More than that, she didn’t have it in her to lie about something like that.
“She’s mine,” he said gruffly.
“Tell me about her.”
And there it was. A beacon of clarity that resolved Kobe’s indecision about what to do with Willa Leigh’s revelation.
Lulu was his daughter, and he wanted to be her father in every context: physical and emotional. Willa Leigh had robbed him of the first ten years of his daughter’s life; he had no intention of missing a single minute.
Grinning into the phone, he started with the basics. “Her name is Lulu, and she loves animals.”
Five minutes after six, Kobe stood on the front porch of Willa Leigh’s small Victorian-style beach house, two huge cardboard boxes balanced in one hand. The aroma of garlic and oregano and bacon made his stomach rumble.
Or maybe it was nerves.
The door flew open, Lulu framed in the doorway, backlit by golden sunlight.
She looked like an angel.
“Mom said I can’t have pizza until I finish cleaning my room. I say it doesn’t matter. I can do it later.”
Uh-oh.
“Chores first.” Siding with Willa Leigh was a safe bet until he figured out the whole parenting thing. “On the ranch, we’re up at four-thirty every morning, summer and winter, to tend the stock. We don’t eat until they’ve been fed and watered.”
Lulu angled her head, evaluating his response. “Okay.” Without further debate, she skipped off toward a stairway with gleaming white balusters.
“Is it always that easy?” he asked Willa Leigh in a stage whisper as she entered from a hallway.
“Rarely.” Her smile was tight, strained. “She’s not a people-pleaser like me.”
“Maybe that’s a good thing.” He wanted to bite back the words, but he was angry that she’d not told him about their daughter sooner. Her explanation was understandable, but Holy Moses, that was time he’d never get back. First steps. First words. First everything.
“Did you tell her?” He’d left that decision up to her, only because she knew their daughter well enough to determine the best way to reveal the truth.
“No. Not yet.” She shoved her hair behind both ears, a nervous gesture he recognized from high school.
“When?”
“I don’t know, Kobe. Give me a little breathing room here.” Her shoulders rounded as she pulled into herself. “This is happening too fast.”
“It’s taken ten years too long, in my opinion,” he hissed. “Where’s the damn kitchen?”
“Please don’t swear in front of her.”
God, how had he never noticed Willa Leigh’s holier-than-thou attitude.
“I’ve grown up, Willy. I’m not a bad boy anymore.”
She stiffened when he made fun of her name, and hot shame rose up from his toes.
He was not handling this very well.
“It’s hard enough combatting the poor behavior she sees at school, not to mention song lyrics, video games, TV shows, and movies.” He could tell she was choosing her words carefully. “If I implied concern about your character, it was not intentional. We discourage use of swear words in our home, but as you can see from the swear jar on the counter, we occasionally slip.”
In our home…
Fuck that. He’d make the rules for their home. His and Lulu’s.
A muffled thump-thump-thump came from the stairway. Lulu entered the kitchen carrying a heavy laundry basket.
“Let me get that.” He swooped down to take the basket, barely catching the look Lulu gave her mother.
“She’s perfectly capable of doing her own laundry,” Willa Leigh ground out.
“Thank you, Mr. Kobe.” Suddenly as prim and proper as her mom, Lulu pointed past the butcherblock island. “The washer and dryer are on the back porch.”
Willa Leigh was setting the table when they returned. She didn’t speak.
“Wanna help me bring in the supplies for Cookie’s whelping box?”
“Heck, yeah!” Lulu shouted.
Kobe slid a look at Willa Leigh’s back. “Is that word allowed or do you have to put a quarter in the swear jar?”
“Heck’s okay,” Lulu assured him. “I can’t use the S-word or the F-word or the GD-word. Maisie, my friend from school, said her dad let’s her use the D-word.”
It was clear as day the ten-year-old was testing him.
“Mom’s house. Mom’s rules,” he said. “Let’s go get Cookie’s stuff. We’ll put it together after dinner.”
“Do you have kids, Mr. Kobe?” Lulu slid her hand in his and tugged him toward the front door. “I bet you don’t have a lot of rules in your house.”
He sidestepped the question, perversely pleased to let Willa Leigh wonder how he answered. For ten years, he’d idealized his memory of her. Put her on a pedestal. Cherished his one night with the perfect woman.
Only to learn she’d betrayed him.
Not fair, whispered a voice in his head that sounded a lot like Fraz.
Outside, he lowered the tailgate and pulled out a four-foot square of plywood and a stack of lumber precut to his specific dimensions for the sides of the pen. Three stood about a two feet; the fourth was lower so Cookie could climb in and out but her pups couldn’t.
“Can you carry the tools and screws?”
He followed Lulu to the porch again and carefully leaned the boards against the wall. Cookie was curled up on a huge dog bed, snoring softly.
“Odette said we have to let her sleep.” Lulu pointed to a big bag of dog food. “And no treats. She’s on a special diet so her babies are born healthy.”
He closed his eyes, unable to avoid the image of Willa Leigh heavy with his child. Eighteen and an unwed mother. Had she been scared? Was her family supportive or critical, like they’d been with her brother? She had plans. For college, for a career, for a life that didn’t include being a single parent.
“Being a mom is a lot of work,” he said, more to himself than Lulu.
“Sometimes I wish I had a dad.” Lulu’s words were thoughtful. “Not just to take me to Disney World or give me spending money, but to help my mom. Great-Granny says moms and dads belong together because it’s twice as much love for kids. They start out loving each other and when a baby is born, that love gets bigger. It’s not like when you have pizza and guests suddenly show up so you have to cut all the pieces in half and they are super skinny.”
“Are you expecting more people?” he asked.
“Nah. I’m just explaining it like Great-Granny ’splained it to me.”
“Your great-grandmother sounds like a very wise woman.”
“Can we eat now?” Lulu switched moods so fast, it took him a minute to realize the philosophical discussion was over.
It was just pizza, but Kobe would remember the meal until his dying day. It was the first time he sat around a kitchen table with his daughter, listening to her share stories about school, make a list for summer vacation activities, and debate which puppy names were the best. While he and Willa Leigh drank iced tea, Lulu stirred chocolate syrup into a tall glass of milk that left a mustache above her upper lip.
Without a word, Willa Leigh handed her a napkin and Lulu wiped her mouth. There were other silent transactions like when Willa Leigh pointed to her head and Lulu removed her ball cap or when Lulu held out her plate and her mom placed a third slice of Hawaiian pizza on it. Would he ever have this rapport with Lulu? An instinctive understanding of her moods and needs that didn’t require words? A soul-deep trust that allowed her to speak up and test parental boundaries without fear of rejection or reprisal?
It dawned on him that thanks to Willa Leigh’s confession, he had an opportunity to be a father. Until today, that possibility had not existed.
Half listening to Lulu chatter about her favorite flavor of ice cream at O'Leahey's Creamery, a beloved Love Beach hangout for three generations, Kobe considered the changes time and motherhood had wrought in Willa Leigh. Her figure was fuller, more that of a woman than a teenager. Her hair, once waist-length, brushed her shoulders in straight, silky strands, the front pulled back in a clip to keep it out of her face. Faint lines radiated from the corners of her eyes, but freckles were still visible beneath the sun-bronzed glow that came with living in a beachy climate. There were other changes, more subtle. Dealing with the consequences of an unplanned pregnancy had forced Willa Leigh to step outside of her comfort zone. She was more direct. Braver. Willing to take risks.
Like letting him into their lives so he could take his place as Lulu’s father.
She did it because she loved her daughter more than she feared his intrusion.
God, would he ever be as selfless? All day he’d been blaming Willa Leigh for keeping him from his daughter. He accused her of holding the past against him, deeming him unfit to be a father because of his bad boy reputation. Self-righteous anger scorched the edges of his heart, justifying the horrible things he’d said to her.
He was angry about missing the first ten years of his daughter’s life, but Willa Leigh had given him a chance to share the rest of her life. She didn’t accuse him of abandoning her. She hadn’t avoided confessing her deep, dark secret. She hadn’t locked the door and pulled the shades to hide Lulu away.
Willa Leigh was the same caring, compassionate woman who’d had rescued him on the darkest night of his life. Instead of running way from his problems in Love Beach like he had all those years ago, Kobe had to find a way to work through them.
“Lulu, would you clear the table?” He stood up and forced himself to hold Willa Leigh’s startled gaze. “Your mom and I need to talk.”