The Texan's Secret Daughter. Jolene Navarro

It had been caused by her own careless mistake, but it was a was a tangible reminder of that night.

      The night she had come face-to-face with the ugly truth of his self-destruction.

      He had never hurt her, physically or emotionally, but his hatred of the world leaked into all his actions.

      When her heart’s memory failed her, one glance at the mark reinforced why she had left. He had refused her help and closed her out.

      Her daughter’s safety had been her priority. So, she had run from him without saying a word about the pregnancy.

      Guilt was hard to live with. This last year, she had almost called him several times. Rosemarie had asked about her father. With first grade starting in the fall, it was time to let Elijah know about their daughter.

      But only if he was sober. She refused to put Rosemarie in danger.

      Eyes burning, she took a step back. This was not how she had imagined their first meeting. In a homeless shelter. Beautiful, proud Elijah with the quick and easy smile was eating a free lunch at a homeless shelter.

      She glanced at the door. It wasn’t that far. She looked back at him, then groaned. Too late. They had made eye contact. Her lack of decision had taken the choice out of her hand.

      His eyes lifted, and the smile that used to make her heart flutter slipped into a frown. He tilted his head, as if he couldn’t figure out what he was looking at.

      The exit was just a few feet away. Maybe she could rewind, go right out the front and pretend she hadn’t seen him. Her breathing came faster. Her feet were cemented to the cold floor.

      “Jazz?” It sounded as though his throat was full of sand.

      He stood. A worn T-shirt with the words Saltwater Cowboys stretched across his broad chest. There was a rip at the neckline.

      One, two, three slow steps and he was around the table. Then he stopped, like he was afraid of getting too close.

      His faded jeans were low on his hips and fit him perfectly, but they were threadbare and ripped at the knees. Small flecks of paint decorated the denim. Was he painting houses now, or were they secondhand clothes?

      After growing up in hand-me-downs from church donations, Elijah had refused to wear anything someone else had thrown away. He’d started working at thirteen. Once he had a job, he had dressed immaculately every day, his boots constantly polished.

      Even on his worst days, he’d still looked put together. Until he stumbled through the door late at night, drunk.

      She lowered her eyes. Those boots looked worse for wear.

      “Jazmine? What are you doing here?” Two more steps brought him close enough for her to see the unusual blend of color in his eyes. The color of Spanish moss, somewhere between gray and green. The exact shade of her daughter’s.

      Unable to talk, she lifted the bags of food she, her mother and daughter had brought in to donate. To her horror, her arms started shaking.

      “Here, let me get those for you.” He reached over and took the bags, his callused hands brushing her wrist. His fingers touched her scar and she jumped back, ripping one of the bags and sending cans rolling over the floor.

      The men who had been sitting with him rushed to help pick up the canned vegetables and junk food her mother had cleaned out of the beach house’s pantry.

      After a bit of fumbling and laughing, one of the older men brought a new bag, and they collected her donations.

      “So, who’s this lovely lady, Elijah?” The shortest one said with a grin. It was hard to judge their ages, due to the rough life that was written in every wrinkle and crease.

      Elijah cleared his throat. “Guys, this is Jazmine...” He looked at her with a question in his eyes.

      “Daniels. Jazmine Daniels.” She couldn’t look him in the eyes, afraid to see his reaction when he learned that she’d dropped his name. Holding out her now free hand, she made sure to smile. So, what if pieces of her world were crumbling around her? There was no need for them to know. “Pleasure to meet you. Thank you for the help.”

      They handed her the bags.

      Her ex-husband started introducing the three men, but they all went wide-eyed. “This is Jazmine? Your Jazz girl?”

      His? Had he been talking about her to these men? Her forehead wrinkled as she glared at him.

      He closed his eyes and grimaced.

      When he reached for the bags this time, she was ready. She held her ground without acting like a middle-school girl at her first dance.

      “The food donations go in the pantry area. Through the door over there.” He pointed his chin to the left, then walked in that direction.

      She followed without thinking but stopped midway. No way was she going anywhere with him. She glanced over her shoulder. Then again, he was leaving the dining area where her mother and daughter could appear any minute.

      With a deep breath, she went through the swinging door. She’d get his number and get out before anyone was the wiser. Three women were working behind the counter. Jazmine recognized two of them from the summers she’d spent at the beach. Their eyes went wide when they saw her.

      “Well, I’ll be. Jazmine Daniels De La Rosa, it’s been ages.” Kate glanced at Elijah, then back to Jazmine. “This is quite the surprise. So, what are you doing in Foster?”

      “I’m at Port Del Mar with my parents. We’re staying at the beach house, so my father can recover.”

      The other woman, Martha, nodded. “Sorry to hear about what happened. Y’all brought him to the right place to recover. The beach is so much better than that city. The salt air at Port D has healing powers. We’ll keep him in our prayers. You should take him over—”

      “Martha.” Kate shook her head. “She’s not here to jibber jabber.” Smiling at Jazmine, she took the bags. “Interesting that you and Elijah brought these donations in together. We haven’t seen you in what? Over six years? Your parents don’t come as often, either.” The women glanced between her and Elijah, waiting for an explanation.

      Obviously, Kate wanted to talk as much as Martha. The news of her being in Port Del Mar with Elijah would be flying as if a town crier was dashing up and down the boardwalk. Another reason she should get out of here.

      The way Elijah found out about Rosemarie needed to be well planned. The gossip mill was not how a man should discover he was the father of a five-year-old girl.

      Elijah gave in to the silent pressure first. “I was as surprised as you when she walked in the door. I was just helping with the bags. Nothing interesting here.”

      “That’s sweet of you.” Martha looked as if she was about to ask more questions, but Kate interrupted her.

      “Well, we need to take these to the back and start the dishes. Y’all have a good one. Tell your parents hi and that they’re in our prayers.”

      They all smiled at Elijah as if he was a favorite son. Then they disappeared through the back door.

      It shouldn’t have surprised her that they still adored him, even if he had fallen on hard times. Despite his uncle’s reputation in town as a mean drunk and cheat, Elijah had charmed everyone. Except for his uncle and Jazmine’s parents.

      She blamed his uncle for teaching him the family tradition of drinking. But then her parents had made his life even harder. They had all had a hand in destroying their marriage.

      Shaking her head, she cleared her thoughts. They might have made his life difficult, but she had promised to quit making excuses for him. He made his choices, and she was not going to feel guilty. She wasn’t.

      And if she said that enough maybe she’d believe it.

      His decision to turn to the bottle instead of to her and