For His Daughter. Ann Evans

he’d found had been his angry and unrepentant son in the process of being stitched up, his body scraped and bruised from the fight he’d been in with a drug dealer. The jagged knife-cut along his thigh was not life-threatening, but Sam could barely breathe for thinking how a few centimeters one way or the other could have changed that fact.

      He was as furious as he was frightened, of course, and even after all these years he knew he had handled the incident badly. Condemnation. Mistrust. The unwillingness to see his son’s side of things at all. As a result, Rafe had not come home. Instead, he had disappeared out into the world for twelve long years, and nothing would ever change the loss that defection had brought to their lives.

      Sam became aware of movement beside him and discovered his wife slipping onto the arm of the chair, pulling him close so that she could plant a kiss on the top of his head.

      “Come back to bed,” she said softly. “You can’t solve anything tonight.”

      It was uncanny, how well Rosa knew him after so many years. Still, he had to try to keep her from thinking he had no surprises left to give her. “What makes you think I’m trying to solve anything?” he asked. “I’m just restless.”

      “Samuel…”

      “We need a new mattress. Let’s go shopping for one in the morning.”

      “We don’t need a new mattress. Do you want to talk about what we do need?”

      “No.”

      “Samuel…”

      He knew that tone. He cocked his head at her, settling for a portion of the truth. “He’s not going to stay, Rosie.”

      She didn’t need to ask who he meant. She simply shrugged. “He’s a grown man. He shouldn’t have to stay if he decides he doesn’t want to. But if he does, then we’ll make a place for him here.”

      “It won’t be easy. The two of us…we don’t communicate.”

       “That’s because you are both hardheaded and proud. Too much alike.” He heard the smile in her voice. She brought her hand to his chest, rubbing across his heart gently. “But you know something inside you is hungry for reconciliation.”

      “Perhaps. But on my terms.”

      “What terms?”

      “I don’t know the real reason he’s come home, but I will not have this family put in harm’s way. Not twelve years ago. Not now.”

      Rosa made a disgusted sound in her throat. “I should have tried harder to make you see reason back then. Rafe would never do that.”

      “Have you completely forgotten what a rebellious child he was?”

      “Children grow up.”

      “And men grow hard.”

      She angled her head so that she could catch his eyes. “Sam, I know my children. And in your heart, you do as well. Rafe never did drugs. He would never have brought them into this house. Even that night, the doctors told you there were no drugs in his system.”

      “Maybe not at that particular moment. But you weren’t there, Rosa,” Sam said stubbornly, remembering the terrifying spectacle he had witnessed. “You didn’t see what I saw. It was a miracle that he wasn’t killed.”

      “You should have brought him home.”

      He had no reply for that. Since there had been no charges against Rafe, bringing his son home was precisely what Sam had wanted that night, to bring his boy back to the safety and security of the lodge. Instead, he knew he had driven Rafe even farther away.

      He couldn’t bear to think of all the mistakes he’d made that night, so he said, “Rafe made the decision to walk away from this family. No one else.”

      “But he’s back now. We have been given a second chance.” Rosa squeezed his arm. “This is not a bridge to burn, Samuel. It is a bridge to cross.”

      “You’re wasting your time. We might as well be strangers to him.”

      “I don’t believe that.”

      “Believe what you want. I’m afraid—” He broke off, unsure how to express himself.

      His wife slipped off the arm of the chair and knelt beside him. She cupped his hands in hers. “What are you afraid of? That he will stay with us? Or that he won’t?”

      “We should go back to bed,” he said roughly. “Today will be busy with the holiday coming.”

      She ignored him, instead placing soft kisses along the knobby ridges of his knuckles. When she looked up at him, the sweetest smile was on her lips. “She looks like you, you know?”

      “I don’t know what you mean,” he said, though he knew perfectly well who she referred to.

      “Of course you do.”

      “I find it irritating that you continue to be a woman who enjoys little mysteries.”

      “There’s no mystery, really. Francesca looks like you. I’ve seen you looking at her. You have noticed the resemblance.”

      “I’m naturally curious about any child Rafe claims is his.”

      “And yet you take pains to stay away from her. Why is that?”

      “The wheelchair frightens her.”

      She sighed. “Samuel…”

      Annoyed, he lifted his hands out of hers, spreading them in disgust. “Am I not allowed to take my own time? She may be my blood, but that doesn’t mean we’re automatically simpatico, you know?”

      “She has your fondness for polka dots.” Her hands plucked at the smooth pattern of his pajama sleeve. One of his favorites—white spots on a royal blue background. “I find that shared quirk rather strange.”

      “Liking polka dots is not a quirk. And it means nothing.”

      “She’s just a little girl, Sam. No doubt she’s frightened by all the sudden changes in her life. I’ve told Rafe I want her to spend as much time as possible with us. She needs family. More than Rafe, she needs our love and understanding.”

      “Give me time.”

      “Your heart understands what your head cannot yet conceive. Trust those feelings.”

      Sam shook his head. Rosa was too generous, too willing to forget. “He won’t stay,” he said again, more forcefully this time. “We’ll open up our home and our hearts and they’ll both be gone by Christmastime. Mark my words.”

      Her poise could not be shaken by the pessimism of his tone. She simply nodded, as if accepting that possibility. “I have decided that this is a chance worth taking. Meeting your son halfway is no more frightening in the long run than living a life without him.”

      CHAPTER FOUR

      RAFE WAS GLAD TO HAVE EASTER behind him. He wasn’t comfortable with family holidays, with their lollipop colors and enforced gaiety. There were too many opportunities for mis-takes.

      But Mom’s cooking was excellent as usual and the family seemed relaxed and pleased by the lodge guests’ eager participation in the planned festivities. Watching the kids collect Easter eggs on the lawn hadn’t been too bad, though he’d bet half of them would be sick by dinnertime from eating too many sweets.

      His daughter had been on her best behavior. Nick and his wife, Kari, had brought their new son, Ethan, to the festivities, and Frannie always seemed enchanted by the sight of the baby. When she was allowed to hold him, she lit up momentarily and then settled into the responsibility with the most serious look on her face that Rafe had ever seen.

      Whatever her reason for good conduct, that, and the fact that Rafe and