A Second Chance at Love: A Hometown Hero Series Novel (4 page)

“Daddy? Where’s mama?” Madeline asked, just a hint of trepidation in her voice as she knocked on her father’s library door.

He fixed her with his renowned stare; part annoyed, part impatient. “She’s in town for the day. Some church fundraiser.”

“Right.” Madeline had known that. She pressed her palms together.

“Can I have a moment?”

“
May
I have a moment,” he corrected automatically, gesturing to the chair in front of him. “You may have two minutes, and that’s it.”

She nodded. A deep pit of doubt flooded her chest. “Daddy, you know Harrison Samson? The cop from town?”

His thick Harrison brows bunched together. “Don’t talk to me about that bastard. I don’t want him or his mother mentioned here again.”

“Daddy, he’s…” She sucked in a nervous breath and pressed her hands against the back of the chair.

Her unusual hesitation and awkwardness captured Kenneth’s attention, and he laid his pen down firmly on the desk. “He’s what?”

“We’ve been dating for almost three years now.”

“You’ve what?” When Kenneth was angry, he appeared at his calmest. In that moment, he was paper still, his voice controlled. Which meant he was furious.

“Yes. Dating for years. And I love him. And he loves me.”

“I forbid it,” he said with a shake of his head. “You need to end it, Maddie.”

“No.” Her blue eyes were determined in her face. “I won’t. I love him, and I want to be with him.”

He reclined in his chair, and Madeline could see that his neck was flushed pink. A sign of his temper being about to burst. She’d only seen him so enraged once before; when a junior housekeeper had put a red dress of Maddie’s through the wash with Kenneth’s white business shirts. They’d all come out pink and his fury had been unparalleled.

“I don’t much care what you want, Madeline May. You’re my daughter, and I sure as hell didn’t raise you to waste your time on a fool like Samson.”

“He’s not a fool,” she defended stonily. “If you spent time getting to know him, you’d see that he’s smart, and he’s kind, and he’s courageous.”

“But who is he?” Kenneth hissed. “The unwanted son of a woman who couldn’t keep her legs together as a teenager. A teenager who dared have a baby and raise him in squalor.”

Madeline balled her fists by her side. “What would you have had her do? You campaign on your anti-abortion stance. Are you actually suggesting Diana should have got rid of her pregnancy?”

“I’m suggesting she should have taken better care in the first place.”

“She was a child,” Madeline hissed. “She ended up pregnant and alone. Her parents threw her out, and her boyfriend left her. She set up in Whitegate with nothing to her name, and she turned her life around. She doesn’t deserve your scorn. She deserves your respect.”

“Me? Respect her?” He stood, and pressed his fingertips into the polished wooden top of his desk. “I’d be dead first.”

“She’s a good person, daddy. And so is Harrison.”

“Harrison.” He spat, with a shake of his head. “He’s got no business putting his hands on you, Madeline.”

Madeline flushed. “He’s my boyfriend. I’m twenty years old.”

“Twenty years old, yes, but still my daughter.”

“So? I don’t live here anymore, daddy. I’m an adult. I’m going to graduate soon, and I can do what I want.”

“Oh, yeah? What if I stop paying your college tuition, Madeline? What if I stop paying your rent? Your independence is an illusion. Only so long as my purse strings allow.”

Her throat constricted. “You wouldn’t do that. Because whatever you think of Harrison, however much you hate him, you want to be able to brag about your daughter more.”

“Brag about you? Do you think I’d speak your name again if you continue dating that worthless piece of shit?”

Hearing Harrison spoken of in such a manner made her bones ache. “He is the best man I’ve ever known,” she retorted fiercely, dragging her eyes scornfully over her father’s wiry frame.

Spittle formed at the corners of his lips.

“And I don’t much care if you brag about me or not. Pay my tuition, or don’t pay it. It’s up to you.” She began to walk out of his office, shaking with the force of her rage. “Because I’m not just dating Harrison, daddy. He’s asked me to marry him. And I’ve said yes. And nothing you can say will make me leave him.”

“Stop, Madeline,” he commanded, as her hand was on the door. And such was the force of her father’s control over her that she did. She turned to face him but her eyes glittered with purpose.

“You speak very highly of his mother.” He skirted the desk and walked towards her. His gait was menacing, his eyes loaded with hatred.

“If you knew her, you would too.”

His chuckle was cruel. “Oh, I know more about her than you might think. You see, Madeline, I know the man who got her pregnant.”

Madeline gripped the doorknob until her knuckles turned white. Diana had never told Harrison who his father was. She’d never spoken a word to anyone. “How? How do you know?”

“Coincidence. He happens to be one of my campaign contributors.”

“A political donor.” She nodded, and pieces began to fall into place. “So he has money?”

Diana had certainly not raised Harrison in squalor. Their small home overlooking the beach was tiny, sparsely furnished, but always tidy and clean.

“Yes. He has money. And he has a wife. And children. He fucked your friend’s mother because she was begging for it. He trusted her to take precautions, and she didn’t. Stupid little fool got herself in trouble and expected him to do something about it.”

“Oh, God.” Madeline pressed her weight against the door. “That’s awful.”

“Yes. Not such a Good Samaritan now, is she?”

Madeline glared at him. “I meant that’s awful of the man, daddy. Not Diana.”

“She knew what she was getting into.”

“Knowing Diana as I do, I highly doubt that. Besides, she was sixteen when she had Harrison, which meant she was probably fifteen when she got pregnant. How old was this donor of yours?”

“His age is irrelevant.”

“Older though, right?” Madeline pushed angrily, her voice shaking with the force of her feelings. “So some friend of yours took advantage of a young, impressionable teenager and you think that makes her at fault?”

“I do, yes. Where were her parents? How was this allowed to happen?” He held a hand up to silence Madeline’s interjection. “They didn’t care enough about her to keep her safe, and nor should you.”

“You’re an asshole,” she said with a shake of her head.

Kenneth’s retribution was swift. He lifted his hand and brought it across Madeline’s cheek so hard that her eye pulsed and throbbed. “You do not speak to me like that in my house, young lady.”

Madeline had only been struck a handful of times in her life. It was not necessary, for her father could inspire fear and obedience with a look alone. She was shaking from pain and surprise. She lifted a hand to her face, wincing as her fingers connected with the aching flesh.

“I’m not going to be in your house a moment longer,” she said firmly, pulling on the door handle.

Kenneth reached above her head and pushed it shut. “Damn sure you will. Diana Samson committed a felony, Madeline. She’s gotten away with it for the last twenty four years, but all that will change unless you lose contact with this family forever.”

“What?” She shook her head. “What are you talking about?”

His face, in triumph, was a disgusting sight. “Yes, darling one,” he sneered. “When Diana discovered that her lover was married, and had no plan of acknowledging her, or their bastard, she burned his house down.” He shook his head. “Oh, the family wasn’t home at the time. No one was hurt. But it caused a lot of damage. Arson is a felony offence, Madeline.”

Could it be true? Diana didn’t seem capable of such vindictive destruction, but then again, she’d been a teenager, very much alone in the world. “So? Even if this is true, that was twenty four years ago. The statute of limitations has run out. What are you going to do? Tell the police about a crime they’re not going to care about?’

His eyes flashed. “The crime was committed in Wyoming, where Diana is from.”

“Wyoming?” Madeline shook her head. “No. She’s from Nebraska.”

“Another lie from a woman who’s a criminal and a slut.”

Madeline swallowed, as the full force of his information sunk in. “There’s no statute of limitations in Wyoming.”

“Very good, Madeline,” he snapped sarcastically. “Meaning one phone call from me would have her arrested on felony arson charges. In fact, your precious boyfriend would be the one doing the arresting, wouldn’t he? How do you think he’d feel about that? Do you think he’d still want you, Madeline? Could you look him in the eye, knowing you’d made a choice that would send his mother to prison?”

Madeline closed her eyes, as nausea gulfed inside her. “Who else knows?”

“No one. It’s our little secret. It was quite by coincidence I found out. One weekend, my friend came to visit and saw Diana in the town. He got drunk and told me the whole story.”

“I can’t believe it.”

“Oh, it’s true.”

“Why is someone from Wyoming donating to your campaign?” She asked, trying desperately to find a fault with the story.

“He has significant business interests in Maine.”

Madeline’s breathing was laboured. She thought of Harrison. Beautiful, kind Harrison; and his mother Diana, who had been more of a mother to her than her own. “Please, daddy. Don’t you want me to be happy?”

Kenneth looked at her as though she’d turned green and sprouted wings. “No. I want you to be an asset. And marrying some hick cop is a waste of your talents. When you marry, it will be to someone of my choosing. Someone who brings cachet to the family, rather than trashes it.”

Madeline, always quick with solutions, had nothing to say.

“I’m asking you, as your daughter, to leave this alone. It’s not your fight. Whatever happened between Diana and your friend is their business.”

He shook his head, and then walked slowly back to his door. “It became my business the moment you said you wanted to marry the slut’s son. You are my daughter, and I will do everything in my power to protect you, Madeline. So go and tell him you’ve had a change of heart, then forget he exists. I will not hesitate to make that call. You know I’d do it in a New York minute. And I’d even call the attorney general to make sure she got the maximum penalty.”

* * *

Present day.

Her eyes were like gemstones in her face; her bone structure the most remarkable he’d ever seen on a living, breathing person. Her lips were pouty and soft, as pink as he’d remembered. Her eyelashes were long, curled and black. And her hair. God. She’d worn it in a fancy bun by the sea, but he knew it was the same hair. That same thick, golden hair that he’d run his hands through until she’d fallen asleep, her head on his chest.

“Daddy, that’s not right!”

He blinked and focussed on the Dr Seuss book he was supposed to be reading. He pulled a silly face, reminiscent of Thing One, and carried on. But his mind wasn’t on the tongue-twisting story. He was thinking only of bloody Maddie, as he had been for two days straight.

Eight years, and she still had the singular ability to turn him to mush. He flipped to the last page and finished the story with relief. He’d really botched that evening’s rendition of Ivy’s favourite book, but at least it was finished.

“Can I have it again, daddy? You stumbled over the best parts.”

He laughed and leaned down, to press a kiss against her forehead. She was so like her mother. He looked from Ivy to the picture of Sally, a smile on his face. “Not tonight, Holly.”

“That’s not right!” She giggled, as she always did, at his use of the wrong name.

“Isn’t it? Should I have said Berry?”

“Noooo, silly!”

He shrugged. “Who are you, then?”

“I’m Ivy, and I love you!”

He laughed and tussled her hair. “Good night, sweetie.”

“Daddy?” She asked, when he had one foot out the door.

He lingered in the opening. “Yes?”

“Can we go watch the sun come up tomorrow?”

He shook his head. Even his daughter had been transfixed by Madeline. “No. Go to sleep.”

Ivy made a sound of disappointment. “No fair!”

“It’s going to be about forty five degrees tomorrow. You’d freeze your feet off.” He pulled the door closed gently, but still heard Ivy’s valiant objection through the timber.

“Would not! I like the cold!”

Just like her mother had. He took the steps two at a time, and turned left into the kitchen. The sun had set hours earlier, but beyond his front yard, the moon cast a milky dye over the ocean. It rippled in the wind, making silver threads arc through the water. In the very far distance, he could make out the town’s lighthouse, and beyond it, a couple of trawlers on the high seas.

He thought of Sally considerably less than he should.

He reached for a can of beer with a frown, and a deep sense of guilt. It was wrong, so wrong, that he thought of Madeline more frequently than the woman who’d given him a daughter, and died because of it.