From Duty to Daddy

Must be something in the air, she hummed to herself. Or a certain American on her doorstep. Her lips twitched. Marshall Hunter was here. In Taupo. Outside her home. Unbelievable. And then the tears really started, pouring down her cheeks, dripping off her chin.

Brendon told Marshall to go on inside the house, and that he’d be along shortly. Marshall could feel his antennae twitching. It was as though Brendon was pushing him and Charlie together—for a catch-up chat? Or was there more to it? But no one had known he’d turn up this afternoon so that couldn’t be right.

Did Charlie mind him being here? Or was she about to kick him to the moon? He couldn’t decide if she’d truly been happy to see him or not. Initially she’d all but thrown herself at him, but only moments later she’d pulled back, hard.

He stepped into the warm interior and paused to suck in a breath. It had been a long haul to get here, no point in retreating now. Until today he’d never retreated—unless his life had been in danger. Or his buddy’s.

His mouth soured. Now was not the time to be recalling that bleak day in hell. Fronting up to Charlie could never be as painful as dealing with what had happened to Rod. The man after whom he’d promised to name his first son, if and when he ever got around to settling down and raising kids. Some time around when he reached fifty.

Stepping along the wide hallway, he glanced at the framed black-and-white photos on the walls. Most of them featured Lake Taupo with the mountains in the background. They were very good. ‘C Lang’ was signed across the bottom-right corner. Charlie did photography? Darn, he knew so little about her.

He found her in the kitchen with the child. Definitely thinner than he remembered. Had pregnancy done that to her? Most women put on weight, didn’t lose it. Could she have taken getting back into shape too seriously? An image of running along the beach in Honolulu with Charlie at his side sprang up and he smiled. Yes, Charlie had been a fitness fanatic. Had loved her sports almost more than anything else. Almost. Sex had been top of the pops. But that was a kind of sport too, she’d told him one day, a cheeky grin lighting up her face.

‘What did John have to say?’ the woman in question asked in a strained voice as she kept her back to him and supervised the little girl drinking juice. Most of the liquid made it into the child’s mouth but the pink tee shirt had a yellow streak down the front.

The pranged cars. Of course. Focus, man. ‘He seemed okay with it all.’ Marshall tried for a nonchalant shrug to hide these oddball emotions charging around his head. He needn’t have worried because Charlie continued focusing her attention elsewhere. He told her, ‘I’ve phoned the rental company and they’ll sort it out, including supplying me with another car.’ His eyes were stuck on the child. She was so cute. Except for the eyes, she had her mother’s colouring right down to the freckles on her button nose.

‘Bet they loved that,’ Charlie sniffed, and he knew she was crying.

Three long strides and he stood in front of her, reaching his fingers to trace the wet lines on her face. ‘Hey, babe, don’t cry. Sorry if I’ve upset you by turning up out of the blue. If you want me to disappear, I’ll go. Pronto.’

Panic flared, widened those damp eyes that flicked from him to the child and back again. ‘You can’t go. Not yet.’ She hiccupped through her tears and swiped at her face again.