The Hunt For Hawke's Daughter
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She could bear his anger. If he never forgave her, she would understand and accept it. What terrified her was the possibility that he would utterly deny his daughter or, just as bad, surprise her by demanding rights she wasn’t prepared to surrender.
“And just when,” he growled, “were you planning to tell me about her? Or, if I hadn’t turned you down just now, would you have ever told me at all?”
“How could I tell you before now? You made it altogether clear back in Aspen that you wanted no part of fatherhood.”
“After knowing me only a month, how the hell could you be so certain exactly what I wanted or didn’t want?”
“Six weeks,” she corrected him. “We were together for six weeks.”
“Yeah, well, that makes it even worse.”
“It was long enough to realize that the responsibility of parenthood horrified you.”
Like it might have horrified the man who had fathered her, Karen thought. The man who had never been there for her. Had he learned of her existence and rejected her, leaving her mother a single parent? The possibility had haunted Karen her entire life. It was why she had turned to Michael Ramey to provide a father for Livie.
“I wasn’t the one who ran away from Aspen,” Devlin reminded her bitterly. “That was you, Karen. Remember?”
“Yes, I know. And I should have contacted you when I got back here and learned I was pregnant, but…”
“What?”
“Weeks had passed by then. And there’d been nothing but silence. You hadn’t made any effort to reach me, so I could only suppose you didn’t care.”
“And that’s reason enough not to inform me I was going to be a father?”
“No, it wasn’t. I admit that. And it wasn’t morally right to let all this time pass without ever telling you about Livie. But I wanted things to be perfect for her, not her life getting split between Colorado and Minnesota. No complications like that. Just one solid home, one family and one father who cared. It was a mistake, and I’m paying for it now.”
“I’ll tell you another mistake you made,” Devlin informed her, his voice hard and unforgiving. “You went and assumed that, if you told me now about my kid, there’d be no way I could refuse to go out there with you looking for her. You were wrong.”
Karen’s heart dropped like a stone when he abruptly swung around and slammed out of the house.
Chapter Three
Devlin’s rental car was parked out at the curb. A sporty white sedan. Karen could see it through the window of the kitchen door. She watched him as his long legs carried him swiftly to the vehicle. He never looked back, never hesitated as he opened the door and swung himself behind the wheel.
Sick with disappointment, she heard the engine turn over with an angry roar. She waited for the car to speed away down the street, taking him out of her life and away from any responsibility connected with her or Livie. To her surprise, this didn’t happen. Instead, he went on sitting there behind the wheel.
Puzzled, she went to the door and pressed her face against the glass, straining for a better view. It looked like he was whistling as he sat there staring off into space. Actually whistling. What on earth—
A few seconds later, in an attitude of resentment, he slapped the wheel with the palm of his hand, turned off the engine and climbed out of the car. Karen backed away from the door as his tall figure strode toward the house. There was a grim expression in his deep blue eyes when he stormed into the kitchen.
“Will he hurt her?”
Devlin offered no apology, no explanation, just that single gruff demand. But she understood him. He was asking her how serious a threat Michael was to Livie.
“I hope not,” she answered him quietly. “I always trusted him with her. But that was before today, before I learned Michael is someone I don’t know.”
“In other words, you’re not sure.”
“No. How can I be?”
“Then we have to find them,” he said decisively. “We have to get her back.”
Her relief must have been evident, and it had to have worried him because he qualified his intention with a swift, “Don’t make any mistake about this, Karen. Committing myself to recovering her doesn’t mean I plan to get emotionally involved either now or in the future.”
It wasn’t necessary for him to tell her. She could see it on his face. He didn’t want to do this. Didn’t want to help her, wanted nothing whatever to do with his daughter, but his conscience wouldn’t let him walk away.
He couldn’t have been more clear about it, but he must have feared she might not believe him. He was compelled to elaborate on his harsh warning. “I’m not going to turn into a daddy because of this. You understand?”
“Yes.”
“I’ll break my neck to see that she’s safe. And I’ll pay child support. No arguments about that. But don’t expect anything else from me, because you won’t get it.”
She was hearing just what she’d wanted to hear. That he would make every effort to recover Livie without any claim on her. Then why did she feel this great sadness? Why did it hurt her that he was so careful to omit any reference to Livie as his daughter, or even call her by name? It was obvious he didn’t want Livie to have any real identity for him, that as long as he kept her that way he could preserve his vital detachment. But why should he feel such a fierce need for that detachment?
As usual, her face must have told him what she was thinking because he added an emphatic, “We’re not going to talk about this either, Karen.”
She had no intention of arguing with him. She didn’t want to risk losing him. Whatever his terms, she would accept them.
“There’s one more condition,” he said.
“Yes?”
“It’ll be necessary for us to work together, but as much as it’s possible, I want this to remain a business arrangement. A friendly, but impersonal, business arrangement.”