From Duty to Daddy (2 page)

‘Charlie?’ Concern laced her dad’s voice. ‘You okay?’

With a lightness she didn’t feel she replied, ‘Sure am.’

Another cry from down the hall. This time Charlie didn’t hesitate. Jumping up, she headed for the door. ‘Yippee. Get up time. I want that first sleep-scented snuggle from Aimee.’

‘Okay.’ Dad conceded quickly enough. ‘Now that my grandgirl’s awake, I’ll get the hedge trimmer out and tidy up out the back.’

Charlie paused, turned back. ‘Dad, why don’t you go play a round of golf instead? The hedge can wait another few days. Take a break from the chores and enjoy yourself.’ Those lines around his mouth hadn’t been there a year ago. They were all due to her. Guilt spread through her like wildfire. ‘I’m so sorry.’

His face softened as he crossed to stomp up the steps to the deck, where he hugged her. His tone was gruff. ‘Cut that out, Charlotte Lang. There’s no point beating yourself up for something you had no say over.’

Sniffing in the dad scent she’d known her whole life, she blinked back tears and dredged up a smile. ‘Have I told you that you’re the best father ever?’ The familiar line fell easily between them.

‘Never.’ That too was the usual response. ‘Tomorrow, if the weather stays fine, I’ll take the boat out on the lake with Billy to do a spot of fishing. How’s that?’

That was progress. ‘Great. I’ll order up a perfect January day just for you. And I’ll get the barbecue ready.’ Of course the trout weren’t so easy to catch in midsummer but the men would have fun trying. At least trolling meant a bigger chance of success than river fishing. And she’d get in steak as a back-up.

Yeah, she had a plan. Plans were good, kept her on track through the rough patches. Then it dawned on her to look around, see the day for what it was. The sun shone bright and hot in the clear blue sky, making everything appear brand new and the flowers on the pohutukawa sharp red. And her tiredness wasn’t dominating her quite so much. In fact, she felt the best she had in a long time.

She surprised herself with, ‘I’m going to start getting fit. Take my bike out of the shed and pump up the tyres.’ She grinned, feeling the most relaxed she had for a long time. ‘That will probably take all my energy and I’ll have to have a nap afterwards, but it’s a start.’

Until the advent of Aimee she’d loved nothing better than to fall out of bed and hit the road on her cycle before going into work. And on her days off most of her spare time had been spent sailing her Paper Tiger across Lake Taupo, catching the erratic winds.

‘Don’t overdo it,’ said the doctor in her dad as he stepped away, averting his face in a vain attempt to hide his worry.

‘As if.’ Nowadays she took naps and spent her free time playing with dolls and building things out of plastic blocks with Aimee.

How drastically her life had changed since she’d returned home pregnant. She rubbed her tummy. Felt the surgical scar on her lower abdomen. Tried to ignore the flare of anguish. At least she’d had a child before her hysterectomy. She’d loved being pregnant and watching all the changes that had happened to her body. The months had flown past and then Aimee had arrived and she was in love.

Unfortunately, someone else had missed out on all that. Aimee’s father. Marshall Hunter, US Army medic.

If only he’d been able to share in the excitement, to be around to put his hand against her expanding belly and feel his daughter kick. Even if she found him tomorrow, he’d never get any of that back. Aimee was eighteen months old and nothing like the tiny scrap of arms and legs placed against her breast moments after the birth.

How stupid of she and Marshall to agree to going their separate ways at the end of their fling. Despite her heart breaking, she’d gone along with him. He’d assured her he was single, that they weren’t hurting anyone else, but he didn’t do long-term relationships. Rightly or wrongly, she’d believed him. He’d come across as genuine. But no one had told her she’d have a child from that liaison. There’d been no thunderclaps to warn her she’d need Marshall Hunter back in her life nine months later.

Had Marshall flown to the moon? Even if he had, he’d still be contactable. Wouldn’t he?

Well, she could be stubborn if it was important. And finding her daughter’s father ranked at the top of the scale. But as of today she wasn’t going to let the continual failure to achieve her goal get her down. She’d done with all that. It was time to start living full on, not half pie.

A louder shriek from down the hall told her Aimee was fed up with waiting. She wanted out of her cot—now. Being a determined little lady—wonder where that had come from?—she would quite likely attempt climbing out of her cot soon. Charlie moved fast. A broken head would only add to the worries this little household already faced.

‘Hey, beautiful, how’s my girl? Have a good sleep?’ Reaching for Aimee, Charlie’s heart squeezed at the sight of the little creases made by the pillow on the side of her baby’s face, and at the red cheeks and sleep-filled green eyes staring out at her over the edge of the cot. So like Aimee’s father’s eyes. Piercing green, reminding her of a polished emerald.

Aimee’s father. MIA. She shuddered. Wrong term. She might be doing everything in her power to find him, but MIA? That was definitely tempting fate. Especially if he was back in another war zone with his unit. She touched the side of the cot with her fingers for luck, definitely needing to push away that cloud of dread.

‘Mum-mum,’ Aimee instantly gurgled, and raised her arms high. ‘Mum-mum.’

Thoughts of Marshall kept trekking through Charlie’s head as she lifted her daughter up. She couldn’t really imagine anything happening to him. ‘Your dad is so virile, so much larger than life, strong and full on. He looks the world in the eye, as though daring it to throw the worst at him.’ He always acted as though nothing could touch him.

Stupid Charlie. Trying to get the man hurt now?

‘Mum-mum.’

‘Time you learnt a new word. How about Grandpa?’ How about Daddy? If only there was a need for that.

Aimee wriggled and tightened her arms around Charlie’s neck, almost choking her.

Carefully unravelling them, Charlie grinned. ‘You’ve got a very wet bottom, my girl.’ She kissed Aimee’s brow and headed for the bathroom.

Blowing kisses on Aimee’s tummy took up a few minutes. Giggles rent the air and made Charlie grin more widely. ‘You’re worth it all, my girl. I’d go through everything again if I had to.’

Careful, you might have to yet. No guarantees out there.

The dark thought lifted goose-bumps on her skin. It was this fear that kept her acting on the side of caution, kept her refusing to relax and accept she was over the worst so that she could get on with life, and that drove her to keep trying to find Marshall despite the unlikelihood of ever succeeding in that quest.

‘Mum, up.’ Aimee’s well-aimed foot banged against her jaw, making her jerk back, and refocused her on where her mind should be. On her daughter.

‘Hey, mischief, watch who you’re kicking.’ Yep, definitely an active kid.

Her baby girl, whom she’d do absolutely anything for. Along with Marshall’s green gaze Aimee had inherited a whole dose of stubbornness from him. Otherwise she was her mum with the dark blonde hair, button nose and freckles dotting her cheeks.

‘One day, my girl, we’re going to find your dad. Won’t he be surprised?’ Surprise might not cut it. There was a myriad of other emotions Marshall would no doubt feel when he learned he was father to this gorgeous bundle of joy. Hopefully love would eventually come out on top.

But first she’d get her strength back. She sighed. Nothing was easy these days. Hadn’t been since the day the lab results had come back with all the medical jargon screaming out at her: cervical cancer.

Charlie’s world had instantly imploded. The future, in particular Aimee’s future, had become a priority in case the worst happened and Aimee lost her mum. Fear had driven Charlie throughout her surgery and treatment, had got her back on her feet. Losing her mother to cancer at seven had been dreadful, but she’d had her dad to love and cherish her. If Aimee lost her to this terrible disease then she’d need Marshall in her life.

He was out there. He’d held her in his arms, made love to her a lot, kissed her senseless. He hadn’t been an apparition.

Oh, no. Not at all. Her fingertips traced her lips. Her insides melted as her skin remembered his large hands caressing, teasing, loving her body.

Aimee needed to know both her parents. And...Charlie’s fingers brushed the bathroom cabinet...if the worst came to the worst, Marshall had to be there for Aimee if she couldn’t be.

If only she could find him.

She had to. No argument.

CHAPTER TWO

C
APTAIN
M
ARSHALL
H
UNTER
turned onto Spa Road and slowed, checking which side of the road he was driving on. ‘Goddamned Kiwis. Why can’t they use the right-hand side like everyone else?’

Someone tooted at him and he pulled to the kerb. ‘Yeah, yeah, give me a break. I’m a tourist.’ A tired smile stretched across his mouth. The trouble with being overtired was that everything got that much more complicated. Twisting the cap off the bottle of soda he’d purchased at the petrol station a little way back, he poured half the contents down his parched throat. At least that tasted the same as back home. Jet lag, and lack of sleep for the past six months, played havoc with his body. And his mind.

The military plane out of Kansas that he’d hitched a ride on had touched down at Whenuapai Air Force Base at the ungodly hour of five that morning.

Which only went to show how crazy he’d been. Why had he hopped a plane going in the opposite direction from Florida, where he’d intended spending some of his leave checking up on his buddy’s family? A sudden aberration of the brain? Had to be. No other explanation for finding himself in this place called Taupo. On the long-haul flight, squashed amongst gear and guys, he’d tried not to dwell on his uncharacteristically impulsive action. Like that had been possible.

What had happened to Mr Cool, the guy who planned every move of his life? He didn’t do random. Random got you shot in a war zone. Got you in all sorts of trouble anywhere. Besides, he was an officer in the army where lateral thinking didn’t go down too well with the top brass.

Marshall grimaced. All control gone in a haze of yearning for something intangible, for someone who regularly flitted through his mind. So close yet so far away. Charlie Lang. Woman wonderful.

She’d been responsible for the fog in his head and the gnawing sense of finally reaching a destination he’d been aiming for ever since he’d waved her goodbye back in Honolulu more than two years back.

Closing his eyes, he leaned back against the headrest. Charlie. ‘Because of you I’ve come all this way with no idea if I’m even welcome.’ Of course he’d be welcome. Charlie would be thrilled to see him. Why wouldn’t she? They’d got on well.

‘You spent all your time together in bed.’

So? That had worked out just fine. Could be that they might do some more bed gymnastics while he was here. Unless she’d got hitched to some dude in the intervening years. Air caught in his lungs. She wouldn’t have. Would she? Why not? Charlie was one very sexy lady who any man would be happy to get up close and personal with.

Okay. Don’t go there. Presume until told otherwise that Charlotte was still single and willing. They
had
been very compatible. He’d never known sex like it. She’d pressed every button he had and some. One look at her across the ED and he’d been a goner, falling into those deep blue pools blinking out at him from under a thick blonde fringe.

His belly rumbled with hunger. Snatching up the BLT sandwich he’d picked up at the same time as the soda, he bit into it. Chewing thoughtfully, he hoped it was hunger and not nerves making his gut carry on like a washing machine. Like he ever did nervous. Not even on a recce when he knew armed insurgents were waiting to take a crack at him.

The sandwich went down a treat, making him feel almost human again. Ready to do battle. If it came to that. As if it would. Charlie would be happy to see him. But he’d been on edge for so long he couldn’t quite get a grip on things. He’d come off that flight feeling like rubbish, knowing he should hop on the next plane out of the country, no matter where it went. But he hadn’t. Instead, he’d gone looking for a way to get to Taupo.

A New Zealand officer at Whenuapai had organised a room on the base so he could scrub up, shave two days’ growth off his face, change into civvies and have a decent meal. Then that same guy had driven him to the nearest car rental place.

Marshall knew he should’ve stopped overnight and caught some proper shut-eye. Instead, he’d been driving on foreign roads through a sprawling city, then through amazing countryside to reach this small town nestled on the edge of the country’s largest lake. He might’ve been more prepared to cope with what he’d travelled so far for if he’d waited until tomorrow.

He snorted. ‘For sure. If you’re not ready to see Charlie by now, know what you want to say to her, you’re never going to be.’ How else was he ever going to sleep properly again? ‘But what am I going to say to her? Hey, buddy.’ He looked up at the sky. ‘Rod, you own this idea so help me out here.’

Sweat beaded on his forehead as his heart thudded against his ribs. Charlie was the woman he went to in his head at night after a hideous day on patrol. She was the woman who’d touched him like no other ever had. She’d gotten under his skin and wouldn’t go away, no matter that he’d known he mustn’t have her again. He had obligations that didn’t include her. And yet here he was.

‘It’s not too late to turn around and head back up to Auckland.’ But then he’d never have closure. Would always wonder what he might’ve gained by seeing Charlie one more time. This time he’d say goodbye properly so as his heart understood exactly where it stood. No notes slipped into her pocket.

Back in Honolulu he’d done the right thing by deliberately telling Charlie nothing about himself, not even which state he’d grown up in. He’d been strong, tough, thinking he was doing her a favour.

Their fling had been short, sweet, exciting and hot, not to mention mind-numbing. At the end of it he’d hopped a plane ride out of Honolulu bound for the base in Kansas to prepare for his next posting to Afghanistan. He’d been so damned confident he could walk away from Charlie Lang without a care in the world, never to think of her again. Right? Wrong.

Glug, glug. The remaining soda coursed down his throat. Coming here had to be right up there with being totally selfish. But he didn’t know any other way to exorcise Charlie from his brain, where she seemed to have branded him—with images of her gut-twisting smile, her light laughter, her very sexy body. Hell, even thinking about that turned him on. The heat south of his belt had nothing to do with his head and all to do with being closer to Charlie than he’d been in a very long time.

So he’d come to get her out of his system? Not to get back in the sack with her?

‘Yeah, well, I’m a little confused right now.’

Not once in those passion-filled weeks had he asked where Charlie was headed after she’d finished her time in Honolulu. So sure had he been that he’d never follow up on her. But she’d told him anyway, making it scarily easy to locate her when he’d given in to the deepening need clawing at him. The world could be a very small place at times.

Now here he was at the bottom of that world, around the corner from Charlie’s house. Soon he’d see her for real and realise his dreams had lied, that those wonderful memories were vapour, not real. That she’d been a very ordinary woman out for a bit of fun. Then he could get on with life the way he needed to live it, following his army career as hard as possible, even if it wasn’t so rewarding any more. Especially as Rod hadn’t made it. Guilt was his constant companion. Duty to his men his creed.

Voices washed over him as kids on bikes wheeled past the open window of his rental. Free as the birds they were. Sometimes he missed being a kid and being able to ride horseback around the ranch with his grandfather.

‘Aren’t you forgetting something?’

Yup. The weeks when Dad had come home on leave from the army and forced his discipline on his son. Harsh, unforgiving, relentless. That was the old man. He’d ruled by his fists. Hard to believe Granddad had spawned his father. Couldn’t get two more dissimilar men.

Flick. His mind returned to the nagging questions that refused to die down. Would Charlie greet him with open arms?

Or would she give him a bollocking for breaking the pact they’d made in Hawaii?

Let’s have fun and leave it at that. No contact afterwards, no regrets.

In the deep of the night when he couldn’t sleep—most nights—he wondered if Charlie’s willingness to go along with his ultimatum had meant there had been someone else in her life back here in New Zealand. Some guy she’d wanted to set up house and raise a family with. Had she been sowing some oats in Honolulu before coming back to marry? Whatever she’d been looking for at the time, he’d been a willing partner.

‘Never going to know what she thinks while sitting here.’

Reaching for the ignition, he hesitated. Whatever it was deep inside his psyche that had brought him this far seemed to have suddenly deserted him.

Finally the engine turned over, purred loudly as though mocking this vacillation. He eased the vehicle back onto the road. His heart rate increased. Excited? Yeah, bring it on. He really wanted to see Charlie, no matter how she reacted. If she sent him packing he’d deal with it.

‘At one hundred metres take the right-hand turn,’ droned the GPS.

‘Yes, sir.’

In Hill Road Marshall slowed, peered at letterboxes as he cruised along, finally finding Charlie’s number. Lifting his foot from the accelerator, he glided the vehicle to the kerb and parked. Not stopping to overthink this any more than he already had, he pushed out of the clammy interior and leaned back against the hood, his arms crossed over his chest. He studied the house where Charlie supposedly lived. An old villa in good nick, surrounded by a recently cut lawn and weed-filled gardens, and with huge unusual trees equally spaced along the side fences.

Female laughter reached him, snuck under his skin, thawing the cold places deep inside. Charlie’s laughter. He’d know it anywhere. It had warmed him, tickled and delighted him. Haunted him. Hungry for his first glimpse of the woman he’d flown halfway round the world to see, he scanned the veranda running across the front of the house. Movement from the side caught his eye.

A toddler, dressed all in pink, running and stumbling, shrieking with joy while waving a plastic bucket, heading straight for—for Charlie. Beautiful Charlie. There at last, right in his line of sight, was Charlie. In the flesh.

The air trickled from his lungs as he sank further down onto the front of the car without shifting his gaze. An exploding landmine couldn’t have made him look away now. Memories of holding her close bombarded him, pummelling him with the sheer joy of her. Warmth crept into his body. Had he done the right thing coming here after all?

Charlie.

She seemed to still in her movements. Hell, had he called her name out loud? Then she said something to the little girl and jerked backwards as she was rewarded with another ear-shattering shriek of delight.

Marshall began breathing again.

And continued watching Charlie, recalling how she’d race back to him after a long day in the ED and leap into his arms, kissing him senseless, before dragging him into bed. Not that he’d been reluctant, far from it. But he had enjoyed being seduced. It had been novel and exciting. She’d teased him blatantly with her body, but had always given what she’d promised. Then there had been the times she’d gone all coy on him and he’d had to woo her into bed.

He ran his hands down his face and re-crossed his arms. Was Charlie thinner now? Nah, probably not. His memory wouldn’t be that accurate. But her hair was very different. What had she done to those stunning long, honey-coloured tresses that he’d spent hours running his fingers through? Gone, replaced with a shorter, curly cut that framed her beautiful face. Different and yet equally attractive.

His heart slowed as he watched the woman of his nights reach down and lift the hyperactive bundle into her arms. Even from here he could see the love for the child all over Charlie’s features.

Her daughter?

Pain slashed at Marshall. He was too late. Too damned late. Charlie was a mother. Which meant there’d be a man somewhere in the picture. She was taken. She hadn’t changed the rules. Instead, she’d got on with life, made a family. That hollowed him out. Made him realise how much he’d been hoping she was free and available. Great. Now he knew, what did he do?

‘You could just say hi.’

Sure. Now that he had admitted he’d been fooling himself all along, it hurt big time. His heart rolled over, cranked up enough energy to pump some much-needed oxygen around his body. Disappointment flared, mixed with the pain and despair, underlining the whole stupidity of coming here on a whim.

Getting reacquainted with Charlie again was not an option.

The reality struck, blinding him. He’d wanted to get to know her properly this time, to learn what made her tick. The doctor side of her, the serious Charlie, the loving, caring woman who enjoyed having a good time. All the Charlies that made up the woman who’d caught his attention when he hadn’t been looking.

Another movement snagged his attention. Someone was walking towards the back of the house from under a big, bushy tree. Tall, thin, and, even from the back view, definitely male. Marshall’s stomach dived. His arms tightened in on each other, holding himself together.

Damn it. He’d thought about worst-case scenarios and taken a punt anyway. But Charlie was now a mother and there was a man in her life. Marshall could no longer deny the obvious.

‘You, Marshall Hunter, have to walk away. Now. Before she sees you and the trouble starts.’ It would be so unfair to knock on her door and say, ‘Hi, remember me?’

No way did he want to hurt her. And he surely would if he stayed now. Truthfully, he’d hoped for another fling, something he could walk away from. So now he’d have to suck it up and walk away sooner than he’d expected. Get on with life and put Charlie out of his head permanently.

But his boots remained stuck to the tarmac, going nowhere. He’d come too far just to walk away without a word.

‘Oh, buddy, did you really think Charlie was sitting around, waiting for the day you might step back into her life?’

An image of her standing outside the hospital, blinking back tears and saying the sun was in her eyes as she’d waved him goodbye, slapped across his brain.