A Perfect Match

She stared down at the swinging handset, praying desperately this situation would simply go away, for on the other end of the line was the one man’s voice she never wanted to hear again. Not ever.

So help her God.

“Julia, it’s Daddy.”

Julia cringed, inwardly and outwardly, as her stomach flipped over and hurled itself around like a carnival ride.

He still had the nerve to call himself Daddy, after all this time. Shaking, she pulled the receiver close, pressing it hard against her ear. She could hear the sound of her father’s rapid breathing on the other end of the line and knew it matched her own.

He cleared his throat. “I’m in Denver.”

Silence crackled on the line, and Julia knew he was waiting for a response.

She had none to give. Her father was in Denver? It was too much to fathom.

“Why?” Her question was low and guttural.

“I’ve been thinking about you. How have you been?”

Julia opened her mouth, but nothing came out. Her mind swam with thick gray rage until she thought her head might burst. She couldn’t talk to him. There were no words to express what she felt.

“Like you care.” That was a start.

“You know I do,” her father replied, his voice hoarse and cracking with emotion.

Julia shuddered. She didn’t want to hear this. Not a word of it. This man had no right to call himself her father. She swallowed hard as she bit back tears.

“Can we meet somewhere for coffee? Please? I just need to see you again. See with my own eyes that you’re doing okay.”

“No.” No way. Knowing bitterness had crept into her tone, she gripped her fingernails into her fist until the sting of her pinched flesh replaced the sting of her heart.

“No? Just no? That’s it?”

“That’s it.”

“I can’t accept that, Julia. I came to Denver so we could—”

“We aren’t going to do anything. Do you understand that?”

“I understand,” her father said quietly. “But I can’t accept it.”

“That’s my final answer. You’re going to have to accept it. I’m too old to need a father watching over me. Don’t try to come into my life now. It’s too late for that. Just go on your merry way and stay out of my life.”

Quietly, shakily, she replaced the receiver on the phone, finding comfort in its audible click. Taking deep breaths, she consciously shoved the painful memories back into a dark pocket in the recesses of her mind.

She had a life of her own now. She didn’t need, or want, her father in her life. Closing her eyes and slumping against the kitchen counter, she ferociously ignored the painful tug of her heart.

“I’ve got to get on with my life, Lord,” she said aloud, but the words just floated away on empty space.

A knock sounded on the front door. Julia glanced at the clock. It was still early for visitors, just past eight-thirty. Still, she was glad for the excuse to push her own dilemma aside for the moment, and she rushed to answer the door.

Zeke Taylor stood on the other side, shifting from foot to foot and jamming his fingers through his thick blond hair. Tip wandered around his legs, sniffing at the concrete landing.

Not quite sure what to do with the man, Julia crouched and welcomed the dog. Tip immediately came to her, barking in delight and rubbing her head against Julia’s hands. The dog didn’t even seem to notice the splint on her leg. It hardly hampered her movements at all.

“She’s looking great,” Julia commented, looking up at Zeke.

The big man stuffed his hands in his pockets and grinned. “I wish I could take the credit for it, but it’s all Tip’s doing. She’s a real trooper.”

Julia stood and gestured for Zeke to come in. “You’re just being modest.”

Zeke chuckled. It was a deep, affectionate sound that warmed Julia’s heart. “If you say so.”

“I do.” Julia settled on the sofa, and Zeke sat in the easy chair catty-corner to her.

He leaned his elbows on his knees and caught her gaze. For a moment he said nothing, just stared at her as if he could read her mind.

“What’s wrong, Julia?” His question was such a low murmur Julia wondered if she’d even heard him correctly.

“I beg your pardon?”

“Maybe I should be begging your pardon,” he said softly, a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. “But I can’t shake the feeling that something is wrong.”

She laughed shakily, a little unsettled by Zeke’s discernment. Maybe he could read her mind through her eyes. Or maybe she was wearing her heart on her sleeve for all to see.

She straightened her spine and tipped her chin a notch or two. It wasn’t Zeke’s business why she was feeling this way, and he had no right to pry. She didn’t have to tell him anything.

But as she looked into his kind gaze, she quickly realized it wasn’t Zeke she was angry with. And Zeke wasn’t pressuring her—he was sitting patiently, looking concerned and a little out of place.

She opened her mouth to tell him she was okay, but that’s not what came out. “My father just called.”

His eyes narrowed, and he stroked his beard with one hand. “I see,” he said, though he clearly didn’t.

“We’re not exactly on speaking terms.”

Zeke didn’t ask why, but he looked ready to listen. And for some strange reason, she felt like talking. To Zeke Taylor, the carpenter. She didn’t have time to figure out the swirl of emotions running through her. She was simply glad he was there.

“I haven’t seen him since the day I graduated high school and walked out that door,” she explained fiercely. “He tries to call once in a while, but I’ve always managed to avoid him. Until this morning.”

“Did he abuse you?” Zeke’s question was almost a growl, and his hands were back in his lap, clenched tightly together. He looked as if he were ready to punch someone, and Julia wondered if he would do her a favor and punch her dad.

Not that punching Dad that would solve anything, other than give her a sense of revenge. But she wasn’t looking for revenge. She was simply looking to be left alone.

“No. Yes,” she said in answer to his question. She took a deep breath. “Sometimes I wished he’d hit me. At least then he would have noticed me.”

“Absentee father, huh?”

“Deadbeat Dad. In the worst sense of the word. I don’t remember a time when he treated me like his daughter. He never even remembered to buy me a present for my birthday. He didn’t care if I had decent clothes for school or not. I don’t even think he cared if I got enough to eat.”