Daniel's Daddy

She glanced at him, wondering if he was actually curious or if he was merely trying to keep the conversation going. He smiled at her and a funny little feeling unfurled in her midsection.

“Yes, I do. I used to have a job keeping books for a local insurance man. But I like working with children a lot better. And it’s something that didn’t require I get a college education.”

Hannah didn’t go on to tell him that children showed her unconditional love and affection, something her lonely heart craved. The last thing she wanted was for Jess Malone to feel sorry for her.

“It surprises me that you didn’t leave here to go to college,” Jess said. “In school, I remember you always had a book in front of your face and you nearly always made the highest grades.”

The fact that he had any memories of her at all warmed Hannah. During those years at school, boys had looked through or around her as though she were invisible. Except for Jess. He’d been the only one who’d taken the time to speak to her now and then. Hannah had never known why. In her teenage heart, she’d wanted to think it was because he’d liked her. But now, after all these years, she figured it was because he was the only boy confident enough in himself to speak to a girl like her. He’d never worried about his reputation. He’d pretty much done and said what he pleased and no one would have dared to suggest he do otherwise.

Oh, yes, Jess had been something back then, she thought. And from what she could see now, he still was.

“I used to think you’d end up like one of those women we had to read about in history class,” Jess went on when she didn’t say anything. “Like Madame Curie, or somebody like that.”

A shy smile curved her lips as she glanced across the table at him. “I was a simple girl. I still am.”

Not really wanting to say more, Hannah turned her attention to Daniel, who was nearly finished with his sandwich.

Jess took a drink of his coffee and quietly studied her from the corner of his eye. He doubted the day-care job paid her very much. But then, Hannah probably didn’t have many wants beyond the basic necessities. Maybe that explained her lack of motivation to go on to college, Jess thought.

Obviously, Hannah was far from the glamorous, socializing type who wanted to spend money on sexy dresses and lingerie, perfume and weekly visits to the beauty salon. The fact that she was still living in this desert town, in the same run-down stucco house she’d lived in with her mother, told him more about her than she could have told him herself.

“How is your mother doing these days?”

Hannah looked at him, and it dawned on her that he really had lost all contact with this place. “She died a little over a year ago.”

Jess didn’t know what to say. He hadn’t known that Rita Dunbar had died.

“I didn’t know,” he said quietly.

Looking down at her coffee cup, Hannah shook her head. “No. With your living away, you couldn’t have known. Besides, Mother was—”

With a small shake of her head, she broke off, as though speaking of her mother was anything but easy. Jess was surprised at the pang of compassion shooting through him. For years, it had been rumored that Hannah’s mother once worked in El Paso as a lady of the evening and as far as Jess knew, Rita had never denied it. He remembered how everyone in Lordsburg had been watching Hannah, expecting her to follow in her mother’s illicit footsteps. It was no wonder, he thought, that she’d gone to such extremes to be as unlike Rita as she could be.

“What happened?”

Hannah said, “She died from heart complications.”

Jess frowned. “So she’d been ill?”

Hannah looked at him with the realization that he hadn’t known about her mother. “She was partially paralyzed. I think being immobilized for so long contributed to her heart disease.”

He slowly shook his head. It was hard to imagine Hannah’s beautiful, vibrant mother being confined to a wheelchair, or even a pair of crutches.

“What happened?” he asked. “I mean, how did she become disabled?”

Hannah’s voice was quiet and matter-of-fact. “She was in a car accident about a year after you left Lordsburg.”

That had been fourteen years ago! No wonder Hannah was still in this town, Jess thought. She’d stayed because of her mother.

The information had him looking at her in a totally different light. “My father wasn’t one to talk much. He never gave me the news about what was going on around here. I’m sorry I didn’t know.”

The sincerity on his face touched her. More than she cared to admit. Strange, she thought, how she’d come over here to offer her condolences and had wound up talking about her own loss.

A sad little smile suddenly clouded her features. “So you see,” she told him, “I know what you’re going through now.”

Maybe she did, Jess silently acknowledged. Only her mother hadn’t chosen to die like his father, who’d slowly poisoned himself with alcohol.

Hannah pushed back her chair and rose to her feet. “Well, I really must go and I’m sure you have lots of things you need to do.”

Jess rose, too, surprised at the faint sense of disappointment running through him. Spinster or not, for a few minutes she’d managed to take his mind off the fact that his father was really gone. He could have talked to her longer. About what, he didn’t know. They had nothing in common except they’d both been raised hard in this desert town and both had lost their only parent.

Taking her coat from the back of the chair, Jess helped her into it. As he stood close behind her, he caught a subtle scent of lavender on her hair and skin. It reminded him she was a woman and told him that she wasn’t totally without vanity as he’d first imagined.

As soon as Hannah felt his hands leave her shoulders, she stepped away from him and struggled to keep a hot blush from spreading over her face. It shook her to have him so close to her. Men didn’t touch her. And to have one like Jess do so, even in a casual way, was very disturbing.

Walking around to Daniel, she passed her fingers gently over the top of his dark head. “I’m glad we met, Daniel. Perhaps before you and your father go home, you can come over and do that counting for me. I have a bird and a cat. You might like to see them, too.”

Daniel perked up and looked eagerly at his father. “Can I, Daddy? Can I go see Hannah’s house?”

“Maybe. If we have time,” Jess told him.

She told Daniel goodbye, then walked out of the kitchen. Jess walked close behind her.

“Thank you for the cake and coffee, Hannah. It was thoughtful of you,” he said.

Pausing, she turned to him. “I wanted to do it,” she explained simply.

“Not many people—” He stopped, looked away from her, then swallowed as the utter loss of his father swept over him once again. “When my father became a recluse, he lost touch with everybody around here. I’m glad you remembered him.”

He looked at her then and Hannah was surprised at the ache of grief she felt for him. “Like I said, I wanted to do it, Jess. And if you…need my help for anything, let me know. I go to the cemetery quite often, so I’ll keep an eye on your father’s grave for you…if you’d like.”

Once again, he was struck by her genuine kindness. There weren’t too many people like her left in the world. People who did things for others simply out of the goodness of their hearts and not for something in return.

“I’d appreciate that very much,” he said, feeling more awkward than he could ever remember. He’d never been around a woman like Hannah before and he wasn’t quite sure that he’d behaved as he should have. But what the hell, he’d be leaving in a couple of days. He’d more than likely never see Hannah again. Besides, when had it ever mattered to him what a woman thought about his manners? Women were something to be enjoyed, not worried over, he reminded himself.

She reached out her hand. He extended his and she quickly shook it. “Goodbye, Jess,” she said, her eyes shyly skittering away from his. “And good luck to you.”

“Goodbye, Hannah.”

She turned to continue toward the living room. Jess took a step after her. “I’ll see you out,” he said.

She shook her head. “No. That’s not necessary. Enjoy your coffee.”

Jess stood and watched her go on out the door. What a strange visit, he thought. And how different Hannah Dunbar was from the vague memories he had of the pale, skinny girl who sat alone in the school cafeteria and ate her lunch out of a brown paper bag. The girl he’d sometimes winked at just to see her blush.

The memory caused a corner of his mouth to curve into a wan smile. Maybe he remembered more about Hannah Dunbar then he realized.

Chapter Two