The Sheriff's 6-year-old Secret. Donna Clayton

was and whom he spent his time with these days. Some of that, she was certain, was just part of being a teenager. But Brian was harboring a great deal of anger and resentment, and Gwen felt her brother had no intention of venting those negative feelings in positive ways.

      “How is he?” Nathan asked. “Your brother—Brian’s his name, isn’t it?”

      “Brian, yes.” Inadvertently she sighed. “He’s…okay.”

      Obviously sensing her hesitance, he coaxed, “Is everything really all right at home? Are your parents very upset with Brian for what happened at the store?”

      “N-no. Well…,” she stammered, “you see, it’s just me and Brian.”

      It was clear that this revelation surprised him. He tried to temper his reaction, but this news caused questions to form in his head. Gwen could plainly see that. However, before he could speak, movement at the classroom doorway plucked at their attention.

      “Dad.”

      Gwen smiled and invited Charity into the room with a wave of her hand. The child looked so innocent with her mop of dark curls and her milky complexion. At first glance, no one would have guessed that this little girl was capable of knocking a fellow student on his behind. Gwen stifled the grin that threatened to break out across her face.

      “Mrs. Halley told me to come down here. She had to leave to pick up her son at day care.”

      Glancing at the clock, Gwen said, “I should let you go, too. I’m sure you have a busy evening planned. And I still have some things to do to get ready for class tomorrow, then I have to get home. I don’t like to leave Brian alone for too long.”

      “Miss Fleming?”

      “Yes, Charity?” Gwen directed her full attention to the child.

      “Am I allowed to come to school tomorrow? I promise not to hit Billy again.” Then the girl shook her head, her face taking on a clear and unmistakable expression of long suffering. “No matter how much he might need it.”

      The opinion was delivered without a trace of guile; however, Nathan went pale at his daughter’s unexpected aside. The best Gwen could do was bite back the laughter that nearly got the best of her.

      “Of course you can come back to school,” she said. She bent down so that she was face-to-face with Charity. “And if Billy does or says something to upset you, you come see me, okay? Just like we talked about today.”

      Charity nodded. “I will.”

      Gwen straightened and, smiling, reached out her hand to Nathan. She hoped she could silently convey to the man that his daughter’s comment wasn’t anything out of the norm. She heard those kinds of outlandish judgments on a daily basis from her six-year-old students. However, now just wasn’t a good time to tell him, not with Charity within earshot.

      “It was good to meet you, Nathan.”

      “Same here,” he said.

      His apologetic look seemed to soften, and she got the distinct impression that he’d somehow understood the silent message she’d attempted to send. His dark eyes softened. “Thanks for everything.”

      Her smile broadened. “You’re very welcome.”

      He and Charity turned to go, and the oddest sensation washed through Gwen’s body. As she watched father and daughter walk out of the classroom, she couldn’t get over the feeling that her life would never quite be the same.

      Chapter Two

      Her hand felt so small and vulnerable in his as the two of them walked across the school parking lot toward his car. Even after weeks of having this child in his life, he still felt overwhelmed at times by this circumstance he found himself in.

      This new stage in his life—being a parent—certainly was taking some getting used to. Every single aspect of it. He was oblivious to the beautiful blue sky as memories bombarded him. Early on, he and Charity had had a long conversation regarding what she should call him, and it had been such a poignant moment Nathan knew he’d never forget it for as long as he lived.

      “So what do I call you?” she’d asked matter-of-factly less then twenty-four hours after their first meeting.

      Nathan had been taken aback by the blunt question. “Well, what would you like to call me?”

      “I’ve had a Daddy-Chuck and a Daddy-Steve. I’ve had a Daddy-Toby and a Daddy-Tony.” Her face had scrunched up. “I used to get ’em mixed up and Mommy would get mad at me. But it was hard to remember, ya know?”

      “I understand.” But he hadn’t really. What had Ellen been thinking, bringing so many men into Charity’s life? But then, he hadn’t really been with the woman long enough to get to know who Ellen was or what she wanted out of life. He had no idea what kind of childhood she’d had or what kind of baggage she’d carried from her past, so he really had no business judging her lifestyle.

      “I don’t wanna call you Daddy-anything.”

      “You don’t?” Nathan’s throat constricted at the sudden forlorn look that clouded his daughter’s eyes.

      Finally she whispered, “Daddies don’t stay.”

      “Oh, honey,” he’d crooned, soft and assuring, “I’m not going anywhere. I mean that. You’re going to be with me forever.”

      Her little head had tilted to one side and she’d nonchalantly replied, “We’ll see.”

      His eyes had burned with emotion. He’d been able to tell that she desperately wanted his promise to go unbroken, but her trust was obviously something she didn’t give away easily. Not after all she’d evidently been through in her young life. Only time would prove to her that Nathan meant what he said.

      “You could call me just plain Nathan,” he suggested.

      Her brow puckered. “Just Plain Nathan sounds kinda funny.”

      “No.” He’d chuckled. “I mean, Nathan. You could call me Nathan.”

      She made no comment at first, but he could tell her thoughts were churning. Then her chin had thrust out boldly, her eyes avoiding his, as she blurted, “But every kid needs a dad, don’tcha think? I could call you Dad, couldn’t I?”

      His heart had swelled painfully. “Sure you could. That would be just fine.”

      Yes, that had been one exchange that had given him great insight. Charity, even at such a young age, was striving to achieve some sort of normalcy for herself amidst the chaos of the world around her.

      Now he helped her into the back seat, shut the door and then slid behind the wheel. He listened a moment as she struggled to latch her seat belt, quelling the urge to offer her help. He’d discovered she was an independent little thing, and if he offered to come to her aid too quickly, she’d become exasperated with him.

      Casting a glance at her in the rearview mirror, he smiled. She was the image of her mother, with her head of tight, dark curls and her skin like porcelain. So small and innocent. However, today’s events had to be talked about, no matter how much he’d like to bypass the moment.

      After he heard the latch click securely, he asked, “You want to tell me what happened today?”

      Her gaze met his in the mirror. “I know I’m in trouble for hitting Billy Whitefeather. But he said Charity was a stupid name. He said I wasn’t Indian. And that I didn’t belong in this school.”

      Nathan’s nod was nearly imperceptible. He had suspected Charity wouldn’t have lashed out without being provoked.

      “So,” she continued in a rush, “I told him Whitefeather was the stupidest name in the whole, wide universe. And that my dad was sheriff. And that I could go to this school if I wanted to.”

      So