The Daddy Verdict. Karen Smith Rose

by the way, so don’t be offended. That was one thing I liked about you as soon as Camille introduced us—your lack of pretense.”

      As the song ended, Miguel guided Sierra to where Camille and Ben were standing. Miguel took his new wife into his arms again. “How about one more dance before we start mingling?”

      Camille gave him a kiss in reply.

      Ben said to Sierra, “I’m going to step out on the balcony for some fresh air.”

      She didn’t know if it was an invitation or not, but she took it as one. “That sounds like a good idea.”

      They walked side by side to the French doors that led to a long balcony. He opened the door for her, and when they stepped outside, she realized they were alone. Although Sierra took in a deep lungful of the crisper night air, pleasant after the stuffiness inside, the breeze made her shiver.

      “Cold?” Ben asked as a loose strand of her hair brushed against her cheek with the breeze.

      “A little, but it feels good.” They were standing at the wrought-iron railing looking up at a magnificent night sky.

      Ben reached over and touched her hand. “You are cold.” He shrugged out of his jacket and settled it around her shoulders.

      She could feel his body heat still warming it and sank into the scent of his cologne. She asked, “Have you ever ridden a cable car up to the top of Sandia Peak at night?” She often took advantage of the tourist attraction when she needed to go to the top of the world and think.

      “I’ve been up there a couple of times, but not at night.”

      “You have to go. With the lights of Albuquerque below, the stars and the moon up above, it’s like being suspended in space where anything’s possible.”

      They were silent again for a few minutes and then Ben turned to look at her. The light from inside the inn played over him, casting half his face in shadow. “You said you hadn’t been with a man for a long time. How long?”

      “Since I was twenty.”

      If he was surprised, he didn’t let on. Instead he asked a perceptive question. “What happened when you were twenty?”

      She didn’t want to go there, she really didn’t, but she’d already sensed Ben wouldn’t give his trust easily. She wanted him to trust her. How else could they be parents together? “It’s still difficult for me to remember.”

      When he kept quiet, she had no idea what he was thinking. Concerned he’d mistakenly believe she’d been assaulted or worse, she quickly said, “After high school I wasn’t sure what I wanted to do. So I returned to Africa where my parents were then to help reestablish our relationship. I hadn’t seen them much over those four years. I thought if I acted as their secretary or assistant, maybe we could finally connect now that I was an adult.”

      “Did that happen?”

      “No. They really didn’t need me. I volunteered at a medical center. I was drawn to the children there and got to know the doctor who set up the clinic.”

      “Got to know him?”

      “Fell in love with him. Six months later we were planning our wedding. A week before the ceremony, he learned of an epidemic in one of the villages. He was determined to go and save lives and wouldn’t let me go with him. The reason was, there were guerrillas in the area, guerrillas who don’t care about sick children or the doctors who help them. All they cared about was stealing supplies and taking what they needed. Travis went because saving lives came first before any personal considerations. I knew if he was needed there, we’d postpone the wedding. I understood that. I understood his need to help.”

      “What happened?”

      “Travis was killed by fanatics who didn’t care who they murdered.” Her voice shook and she could hear the quiver. Tears burned in her eyes, and because she didn’t want Ben to see them, she stared up at the sky again.

      “It seems like yesterday?” he asked in a low voice.

      “Sometimes. Other times, it feels like a lifetime ago.” She slipped his coat from her shoulders, suddenly needing to be away from him, away from a man who stirred up feelings she hadn’t experienced in a very long time, away from a man who had wiped Travis from her memories for an evening.

      She blinked a few times and found a smile and handed him his jacket. “Thanks. I think I’ll go in now.”

      He didn’t stop her as she opened the door and stepped back into the reception.

      Sierra mingled for a while, wanting to forget about her discussion with Ben on the balcony, not wanting to stir up memories of Travis or even the electrically charged feeling she experienced whenever she was with Ben. After speaking for a while with Miguel’s parents and then Camille’s, she noticed Ben on the other side of the room talking to a man who looked to be about his age. At the dessert table the wedding cake just didn’t tempt her, so she picked up one of the other selections, a cup of crème brûlée, and carried it to her table. She took a few bites.

      Camille slipped onto the seat beside her. “Did you and Ben have a good conversation out on the balcony? It’s a romantic night out there.”

      Sierra could see her friend was teasing her. She should tell her about her pregnancy. “We talked.”

      “What aren’t you telling me?”

      “Camille, this is your wedding night. Why would you care what we talked about? You should be thinking about later, leaving tomorrow morning on your honeymoon.”

      “Oh, I am, but you know me, I can multitask.”

      Knowing her friend deserved the honesty with which they usually spoke, Sierra said, “I told him about Travis.”

      Camille studied her. “There’s more going on here than two people who just met each other.”

      That was an opening, so Sierra took it. Leaning close to Camille, she murmured in her ear, “I’m pregnant. Ben’s the father. I wasn’t going to tell you now, but you’re pushing.”

      Camille tried to recover from her astonishment. “You are going to tell me when, where, how and why.”

      “Not now, not here. I just told Ben last week. I want you to forget about it until you get back from your honeymoon.”

      Camille laid her hand on her friend’s shoulder. “Are you all right?”

      Although the crème brûlée was lying heavy in her stomach, she assured Camille, “I’m fine. I’m going to figure it all out.”

      “With Ben’s help?”

      “We’ll see.”

      Camille whistled through her teeth. “Ben Barclay. Who would have thought?”

      Sierra’s quelling look didn’t intimidate Camille. “So that’s why you told him about Travis. Was that so you could get closer to him or push him away?”

      Her friend never ducked the hard questions and Sierra had to think about that one. “I’m not sure.”

      Her stomach felt even queasier. To distract both of them, she swiveled in her chair to face Camille. “So describe this resort where you’re staying in Aruba.”

      “You’re changing the subject.”

      “You bet I am.”

      “It’s supposed to have everything, but Miguel and I probably won’t be seeing the outside of our room. I can’t wait to have nine whole days with him, without interruptions, without hi-and-goodbye schedules. I’m glad I quit my job last month to help with the wedding details. I know it will help us get a good start on our marriage.”

      As an art history major, Camille had been working in one of the galleries in Santa Fe since she graduated from college. “Do you think you’ll