The Texan's Secret Daughter

“I was protecting her the only way I knew how. You’d started drinking. I was not going to bring my baby into a house where objects went crashing into walls without warning or wait around to see if you got better.” Over Elijah’s shoulder, she saw the cheerful waitress heading to their table carrying a tray that held chips and guacamole, as well as a glass pitcher full of lemonade with fresh sliced lemons.

Twisting, he looked to see what had caused her to stop talking. With a tight smile, he thanked the blonde.

“Did you need menus, Mr. De La Rosa?”

He looked at Jazmine.

She shook her head. “No. I had dinner already.” She wasn’t even sure she could keep down the lemonade.

“We’re good, Jenny. If I need anything else, I’ll come in and let you know.”

“Yes, sir.” With one more perfect smile and a polite but curious look, she left.

Did Elijah bring dates here a lot?

That was none of her business.

It was back to the heavy silence. The discussion had derailed again. Years ago, she had put all the anger and bitterness behind her. Or at least she thought she had. “Elijah—”

“I want—”

Speaking on top of each other, they both stopped. His fingers ran over the surface of the envelope. Had she made a mistake?

The real question was, did she make it six years ago or tonight, like her mother thought?

He laced his fingers in front of him. With his head down like that, he looked as if he were praying. Maybe she should join him. The only thing she knew right now was that God had to be in control. Because she and Elijah had made a mess. She didn’t want their daughter paying the price.

He cleared his throat. “Sorry. It’s been a few years since I’ve had to go through this. I’ve forgotten how difficult it could be.”

Confused, her gaze scanned his face, looking for clues to what he was thinking. He had always been good at hiding his feelings. “What do you mean?”

“Letting people air the hurts I caused them without getting defensive. It’s part of the program, the twelve steps. The list I started telling you about at the mission, but we got a little distracted. I have to find each one and express my true regret for the damage I’ve done. The person I hurt gets to vent and I listen. No excuses, I just listen. You were the only one left on my list. The last one. The one who deserves the biggest apology.” He reached across the table like he wanted to touch her, but then pulled back.

“I destroyed our marriage with my drinking. I...I know I did that. Those are the words that I’ve wanted to say to you, and I mean every single one of them. You had every right to walk out, but we have a daughter now and I’m at a loss as to what that means. It’s another horrible casualty of my drinking, but the thought of everything I missed is killing me. I can’t get back those years.”

“That’s why I’m here. But I have to be honest. Trusting you again is not going to be easy. I’m worried.”

He nodded, then looked up and made eye contact. “I’m sober. Soon it will be six years. I can’t fix the past, but we can move forward. I want to see her tomorrow.”

Chewing on the inside of her cheek, she organized her thoughts before answering. “You might have been sober for years, but in my mind, it was just the other day that you...” She looked down. “It might be best if we wait a little longer.”

He tossed his head back and stared at the night sky again. His chest expanded with deep, hard breaths. “Maybe it would be better for everyone if we finish this discussion in a courtroom. I’ll call my lawyer in the morning.”

His full attention was back on her. The eyes that she used to stare into for hours now looked at her with anger. Not filled with the love from the beginning or the drunk haze they held last time she saw him, but clear crisp determination.

Her stomach turned. “Elijah, I don’t—”

“I’m not the poor ranch kid from six years ago. If we have to go to court, I will. I deserve to have her in my life.”

She held up her hand. “No.”

He put his hands on top of hers, gently holding it to the table. Nerves tingled up her arm and down her spine. She stared at the hands that use to hold her with tenderness before the drinking. Clearing her head, she tried to pull away.

At first he increased the pressure, but then let her go.

“I won’t—” His voice was low and calm, but she didn’t doubt his iron will.

“Elijah, I didn’t mean you can’t see her. I just don’t want to drag her through court. I came here tonight so we can work something out between us. Her parents.”

Finally breaking eye contact, he propped his elbows on the table and rested his forehead on his palms. “What about your parents? Every time I tried to get in contact with you, they had restraining orders thrown at me. What makes you think they’ll go along with this now?”

Cutting her gaze to the busy restaurant, Jazmine felt thankful to be in public. It would help them both keep emotions in check.

“You know your drinking was very hard on them. That might be the one thing they can never forgive you for. You know our family history.” She blinked back the wetness in her eyes.

* * *

With a tight nod, Elijah acknowledged the horrible truth. Her parents had lost a child because of a drunk driver. His gut burned. There was nothing to say to that.

“I’ll take care of my parents. I came here tonight because it’s time Rosemarie met her father. But Elijah, it has to be on my terms. I know there’s a whole family she needs to meet, but please give me time. It’s been just her and me. Bringing you into her life is not easy.”

He wanted to point out that she had made this hard, not him. “I want to see her tomorrow.”

“Okay, but not alone. That’s my stipulation. I can’t trust you yet. Besides, she doesn’t know you. To her, you’re a stranger.”

A sadness replaced the fury. “Because you took her from me.” The words fought against the rawness in his throat.

She swallowed. “To protect her. She’s very shy. If you come over for lunch, it will be a comfortable and safe way to introduce you.”

“And she knows I’m her father, right?”

“In the abstract, which doesn’t mean much to a five-year-old. I’ll make sure she knows who you are.”

He sat back. “Okay. Tomorrow at 11:30. Will that work?” Elijah dropped his gaze from his wife—his ex-wife.

She still hadn’t said anything. This Jazmine was stronger. Surer of herself. But she couldn’t keep his daughter from him. “Jazz? Eleven thirty tomorrow?”

She gave the slightest jerk of her head. “Elijah, you have to know this is hard for me. My last memories of you are... Well, they don’t reassure my maternal fears. You’ve had years of being sober, but in my heart it all just happened.”

The tension was back. “You really think I would hurt our child? That I would hurt any kid?” He wasn’t that messed up.

Staying steady and calm was more important than his tattered pride. In the last five years, he had learned to listen and to wait before responding. It took time to process information and...ugh, feelings.

Even thinking the word to himself made him feel like an idiot. It was hard to completely erase his uncle’s words from his mind. Crybaby. Worthless. Weak. Waste of space. How could a dead man still taunt him?

His uncle had spouted nothing but hatred and lies. He knew that now. But it was still hard not to get lost in the black hole of doubt that swirled in his brain whenever life hit him with an unexpected hailstorm.

In God’s eyes, he was worthy of love. He was a child of God. That’s what his sister, Belle, and his friend Miguel told him anyway, and if he was going to believe a lie, it was better to go with that one.

What did he know? One fact that was drilled into the smallest fiber of his being was that he would do whatever it took to have his daughter in his life. He didn’t want to cause her any embarrassment or give her any reason not to claim him as her dad. Dad. He closed his eyes. He was someone’s dad.

Daughter. Wow. He was prepared to face any of the consequences his drinking brought to his door, or so he thought. This, he had not seen coming. He opened his eyes and studied his ex-wife.

She was staring out over the water. She hadn’t answered him, or he hadn’t heard her.

“I wouldn’t. You know that, right? I’d never hurt someone weaker than me.”

“No. Not intentionally. But when you’re drunk, your impulses and—”

“Which is why I don’t drink anymore.” Was he ever going to truly get away from his past? “Jazz, I know words aren’t enough. Earning your trust is a task I’m up for. Let me show you.”

Lips tight, she nodded. “That’s why you’re coming over. Rosemarie also needs time to get to know you.” She looked at the sailboat outlined with cords of white patio lights, its reflection slowly dancing on the water as laughter floated through the air. Looking back at him, her eyes shimmered. “We’ll see you tomorrow at 11:30.”

Her face might have the grimmest expression, but he wanted to lift her up and swing her around. It had been a long time since he just wanted to laugh. She used to give him that. And then he had destroyed her light, pitching them both into darkness.

Now he had another opportunity. Lunch with his daughter was now on his agenda.

And just like that, the fear was back.

What if he messed this up? What if she didn’t like him? He was a stranger to her. He twisted the leather at his wrist and repeated the words from his recent meditation verse, from John 14:27. He had needed an extra one today. Let not your heart be troubled, neither let it be afraid.

He needed to let the fear move on, through and out.

She stood, seemingly unaware of the turbulent sea of his emotions. “Now that we have that settled, I need to go home. I’ll see you tomorrow. Mom will have Daddy at PT, so it will just be the three of us.”

Pushing back the chair, he got to his feet and pulled out his business card. As he held it out, his work-hardened hands grazed her soft skin. The instinct to put her hand to his lips had to be locked down tight. “My personal cell is written on the back. If you don’t want to go through my lawyer, let me know whatever you need.”

“Thanks.”

He wanted to keep her here longer, but couldn’t think of any way to do it without kidnapping her. That wouldn’t help with the trust issues. “I’ll see y’all tomorrow. Do I need to bring anything?”

She swung the strap of her purse over her shoulder. “Just yourself.”

He wanted to ask her if he would be enough, but he stopped himself. Did he really want to know the truth?

As they walked to the exit, the singer started to cover “Just the Way You Are.” Jazmine jerked her head up to his, her eyes wide. “Did you—”

“No.” The words to their song swirled around him. “Just a coincidence.” Possibly a very cruel one. The memory of holding her while they slow-danced flooded his mind, and his body didn’t seem to notice the time difference. He was there with her. Back when she still loved him. More importantly, she had trusted him.

Lips tight, she turned from him. “Bye. We’ll see you tomorrow.”

His eyes followed her until she vanished from his sight. He needed to take some sort of gift. There wasn’t a thing about him that would make an impression on a five, almost six-year-old girl. His five, almost six-year-old girl. What did little girls like?

Pulling his phone out, he called his sister. It was time to let his family know. Belle was obsessive about family sticking together. He wasn’t sure if she was going to be more upset with him or with Jazmine and her parents. Either way he was in for a lecture about family.

Chapter Four

Elijah slowly pulled his truck into the brick driveway. The looming, three-story beach house with its wraparound porches and floor-to-ceiling windows always made him feel as if he didn’t measure up.

Jazmine had laughed and said it was just a house. But that’s what she didn’t get. To her, it was just an ordinary vacation house. In his world, even the idea of a vacation house was extraordinary, let alone the design and size of this one.

His family had a ranch along the coast that included waterfront property, but they were considered land-poor at best. What was the point of owning land worth millions if you struggled to pay your basic living expenses?

Parking in front of the huge garage door that looked as though it belonged on an English carriage house, he tilted his head to look up. They had spent so much time sitting on the top balcony, staring at the stars, listening to the water. Those had been the best days of his life. Back when she had drowned out his uncle’s voice.

Of course, when her parents found them one night, they had been fit to be tied. They didn’t care that the most he and Jazmine had ever done was hold hands. In their mind, he was a De La Rosa and would contaminate their daughter. He hated himself for proving them right. This morning’s devotional ran through his head again. Don’t be anxious. Stay in prayer.

Easier said than done. His skin itched. Not the kind of itch that you could scratch, but under his skin. It was the kind that reminded him that he was an alcoholic, and that the minute he forgot it he would be in big trouble.

Stepping out of the truck, he centered himself before opening the door to the backseat. He hoped he hadn’t gotten the gift wrong. A movement on the top balcony caught his attention. A mini Jazmine was looking over the railing. Her thick, dark, corkscrew curls framed her tiny golden-brown face.

All the blood left his body. When he’d seen her the first time, he hadn’t known who she was. His brain hadn’t had time to process that she was real. A little person that was part of him and Jazmine. He wanted to stare at her, take the time to make sure every detail was branded in his memory. But he needed to move, do something. He waved. “Hi, Rosemarie.” His voice cracked. Really?

He was an idiot. Great first impression, De La Rosa.

She darted away. “Momma! He’s here!”

A few seconds later, mother and daughter were looking down at him. Something he couldn’t identify pushed at his insides.

“Hey,” he called up to them. “Should I climb up the side like the old days?” There was elaborate ironwork decorating the side of the house.

“Elijah De La Rosa, don’t you dare.”

Rosemarie studied him wide-eyed, then turned to her mother. “He can climb the wall like Spider-Man?”

He grinned. “Sure. I used to do it all the time.”

“No. You stay right there. We’re coming down to let you in.”

He chuckled. Getting her riled had been one of his favorite things to do. Probably not a good idea now. By the time she opened the door, he was requesting wisdom and strength from God again.

Jazmine stepped back to let him enter the downstairs foyer. This was the plainest part of the house. It was designed to take water during heavy storms. The main living area was on the second floor and the bedrooms on the third.

With a hesitant move, Jazmine turned to the stairs.

His heart hit harder with each step, steps that brought him to his daughter. Most fathers had nine months to get used to the idea of having a child. A tiny wiggling infant was placed in their arms, and each month their baby grew into more of a little person.

Jazmine stopped on the last step. He was behind her but didn’t see his daughter. His gaze darted to Jazz. She gave him a half smile. Had his daughter already decide she didn’t want to meet him?

“She’s very shy.” She glanced toward the upper level. “Rosemarie? Come on down, sweetheart.”

The worn leather of his bracelet was warm between his thumb and finger. He had already seen her, so why was he so nervous now? They would be in the same room.

He kept his focus on the top of the stairs. If his heart beat any harder, it might break his ribs. Licking his lips, he discovered they were dry. Then that sweet face surrounded by dark curls peeked around the corner of the wall.

There were people in his life he loved, but at this moment he was hit hard by a love so wild and raw that his knees almost gave out.

“Hi, there. Rosemarie, right?” His eyes burned. No, no, no. He took a deep breath and unlocked his jaw. The last thing he wanted to do was to scare her.

She nodded, moving toward her mother one slow, agonizing step at a time. She eyed him as if he was a coiled rattlesnake. Her hand stayed on the railing. The wall behind her was covered with photos. Rosemarie’s pictures hung with the other members of the Daniels family, including the boy they had lost.

Jazmine had said she didn’t have many memories of her older brother. He had been killed when she was only three. Sweat broke out across Elijah’s body.

The family had to hate that their only surviving child had married an alcoholic. He had a lot to prove, but first he wanted to see his daughter smile. He lowered himself to a crouch, so he wouldn’t tower over her.

Finally, she made it to her mother’s side, and wrapped an arm around Jazmine’s jean-clad leg.

“Hi, Rosemarie.” He tried again, making sure to give her an easy smile. “I’m...” Your dad, father, daddy. Each word clogged his throat. None of them sounded right. “I’m so happy to meet you.”

“You’re my daddy, right?” Her tiny, bow-shaped lips twisted to the side.

He couldn’t breathe for a minute. “I am.”

“Momma calls Papa Daddy. Is that what I should call you?”

Everything below his neck locked up. He managed a nod and what he hoped was an encouraging smile. “If you want to. I like it.”

Silence slipped between them again. What topics of conversation did a father have with a five-year-old daughter he’d never met?

Jazmine ran her hands over their daughter’s head, pushing back her hair. “I think he has a gift for you.” She raised her eyebrows and looked pointedly at the bag in his right hand.

“Oh. Yeah.” He lifted the bright pink bag. “I brought this for you. My sister helped me pick it out. You can call her Tía Belle or Aunt Belle. She has a little girl about your age. You have a few cousins and a couple of aunts.” Great, now he was babbling. He tried to laugh, but it sounded more like a cat caught in a trap. “Want to know a secret?”

She nodded but didn’t step away from her mother.

“I’m a bit nervous.” He leaned closer, stopping himself from reaching out to touch her. Nodding to the bag, he offered it to her again. “I hope you like it. If you don’t, we can trade it in for something else.”

Taking the bag, she smiled at him. He didn’t know it was possible for a heart to hold a beat.

Rosemarie peered into the colorful wrapping his sister had chosen for him and gasped. He wanted to know if it was a good or bad noise.

“Momma, look! I’m naming her Zoe! She and Abby’ll be best friends.” She pulled out the dark-haired doll and hugged her. “Thank you.” Turning to her mother, she held up the doll. “Can I take her to lunch?”

“That’s a wonderful idea.” Jazmine looked at Elijah. “She set her table for us. She wanted all her friends to meet you.”

“Friends?” His gut tightened. “I thought...” Narrowing his eyes, he studied Jazmine. Her dark eyes gleamed like they used to whenever she messed with him.

“Yes!” Rosemarie interrupted his thoughts. “Mary has somewhere very important to go, so Zoe can have her spot.” The little girl nodded somberly before skipping through the kitchen to the back door. Through the large glass panels, Elijah could see the ocean.

“Come.” Jazmine followed her daughter. “She might not seem excited that you’re here, but she set the table and helped my mother make fresh lemonade. I told her how we used to drink it during the summer while we sat on the pier and watched the waves. She planned the menu.”

“You told her about us?”

“The good parts.”

Swallowing the bitterness, he inhaled. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d had to use his calming strategies so often in one day. “Your mother helped her? Will it be safe for me to eat?”

One hand on the door, Jazmine paused. For a moment she studied his face with a fierce intensity. Was she going to kick him out?

He held his breath as he waited for the verdict. “Sorry.” He made a note to lay off the mother jokes.

“She’s a little girl. A little girl who lives in a world where everybody loves her and cares for her. Please don’t be her first heartbreak.”

The first instinct was to deny he would ever do anything to hurt her, but then he stopped. He had blown his promises to honor and protect Jazmine out of the water. He had broken her heart.

Rubbing the back of his neck, he glanced to the little girl. She was talking to a line of stuffed animals and dolls. “I’m in a different place now. I don’t know how to promise never to hurt her, but I’m going to do my best.”

Their gazes stayed locked for longer than he could count.

He must have passed her test because she nodded, then crossed the threshold. To the far right, in the shaded area on the large balcony, was a mini pink picnic table. There were purple and green chairs at each end. They were a bit higher than the yellow benches on either side, but not by much.

Starfish, seashells and driftwood decorated the center, and pretty teacups and delicate plates were set at each place. The doll he had given her was in the middle of a militant line of other dolls and animals. She came over and took his hand.

“This is your spot.” There was a pause. “Daddy.” She stood next to the plastic chair at the end of the table. One brow up, he eyed the little polka-dot piece of furniture. Serious doubts flooded his brain.

With a huge smile, Jazmine took the chair opposite. Slowly, he followed suit, easing himself down onto the fragile frame. His knees came halfway to his chest.

“So, these lovely ladies are your friends?”

“Yes.” She went on to introduce him to each one, then picked up a small pitcher with both hands. “May I pour a drink for you?”

“I would love that. Thank you.” He wanted to reach out and help her as wobbly hands tipped the pitcher, but he held back. He recognized that determined expression.

Her tongue stuck out at the corner of her mouth as she concentrated, and he felt his own mouth twitch. She looked just like his sister when she was focused on a task.

Rosemarie moved down the side of the table and poured a little in each small cup. As she served her posse, she told him how she had met each one.

No surprise that his daughter had a very vivid imagination. He had loved reading and making up stories. His sister and cousins had been participants in many of his imaginary adventures. Uncle Frank had called him a lazy dreamer.

The doll he had given her sat next to a royally dressed Abby. Apparently, she was the queen of all the other toys.

There was a bowl of chips and salsa on the table. Rosemarie offered him a small plate. “Would you like some appetizer?”

It took him a minute to figure out what she was saying. “Chips are my favorite.”

He glanced at Jazmine, and she flashed him a proud smile. It was a good look. She wasn’t his Jazz anymore. In the last six years she had grown up, became a mother.

Rosemarie finished serving everyone, then tucked her sundress under her as she sat. Just like a little lady. “For lunch we’re eating flautas. Momma told me how you taught her how to make them when you didn’t have enough money. She said you ate them all the time.”

He frowned at Jazz. She had told their daughter he hadn’t had enough money to feed them?

He smiled at Rosemarie. “I’m impressed you did your research.” Elijah was pretty sure he had never eaten with a party of stuffed toys before. Not sure how to start a conversation, he took a slow sip of lemonade.

His daughter reached over to feed a doll, then looked at him. “Abby would like to know if you still have horses. She has a pony, but we had to leave it back home. Prince is a pretty palomino.”

Before he said anything, a timer went off. Rosemarie popped up. “That’s the flautas.”

Jazmine got up from her chair.

“No, Momma. Stay here and talk with Daddy. I can get them.”

Instead of sitting as her daughter told her to, Jazmine shook her head. “Rosemarie Daniels!”

“Momma, I’m a big girl. I want to make lunch. I don’t need help.” She pouted.

“You can’t open the oven by yourself, young lady. It’s dangerous.”

With a sigh bigger than her small shoulders, Rosemarie followed her mother into the house. Elijah sat alone.

Well, not completely alone. All the little dolls glared at him. He looked down, breaking eye contact with the toys, and stared at his intertwined fingers.

Daniels. It tore at his gut that his daughter didn’t have his name. How did he fix this? His relationship with Jazmine might be beyond repair, but he had a second chance with his daughter.

His ex-wife and her parents were going to have to deal with the fact that Rosemarie had another parent who loved her too. There would be no doubt in his daughter’s mind that she was loved by her father. She wouldn’t grow up with his issues.

Now he just had to show Jazmine that he could be trusted with their daughter’s heart. She had every reason in the world to doubt him.

Lifting his head, he found the dolls staring silently at him, judging him.

“Yes, I know,” he whispered to the toys. On their wedding day he had promised to cherish and honor her. But in grand De La Rosa fashion, he had broken her.

* * *

The downstairs door opened and closed. Glancing at the clock, Jazmine frowned. It was too early for her parents to be back. Her mother had agreed to stay away for two hours. Slipping the round stone onto the cooling rack, she helped Rosemarie move the tightly rolled corn tortillas filled with refried beans onto a serving plate.

Rosemarie looked up at her and smiled. “Papa and GiGi are here! They can meet my father and eat lunch with us.” Like a good little hostess, her expression changed to panic. “Do we have enough?”

“We’re good. Take this out to your father.” Wow. Words she wasn’t using to saying. “I’ll be right there.”

What was her parents doing here? Jazmine snorted as her irritation grew.

There had been very loud complaints about her and Rosemarie meeting with Elijah alone. Her mother had wanted to be here, but Jazmine had insisted she could handle the meeting alone.

She glanced out the kitchen window to make sure Rosemarie was safe. Her heart still bounced at the thought of Elijah being with her daughter. She needed to start thinking of her as their daughter.

Rosemarie laughed. The sound was all joy, free of adult angst.

He was going to be a part of her life now. She sighed. Azalea would have to learn how to deal with it.

Elijah’s broad back was to her, so she couldn’t see his expression, but he was sitting at the kiddie table as though he did this all the time. When Rosemarie had first asked to serve lunch on her little table, Jazmine had liked the thought of making Elijah uncomfortable. To test him, see if he was ready to be a real father to a little girl.

Part of her would have been happy if he hadn’t shown up.

“Did you leave her out there alone with him?” Her mother’s voice was at its coldest setting.

“I had planned to be out there, but someone didn’t stick to the plan.” Jazmine twisted the corner of her mouth as she glared at her mother. Then she realized her father wasn’t with them.

Her heart plunged. “Is something wrong with Daddy?”

With pursed lips, her mother shook her head. She started removing her stylish blazer. “He’s good. His friend Larry is with him, and they wanted to sit by the pool and visit. Larry will help him up the stairs in just a bit. Two hours is too long for him to be out. It was the perfect time to touch base and see how it was going.”

Craning her neck to look out the window, she made a disgruntled noise. “It’s a bad idea to have him here alone with you. He’s an acholic.”

“Mother, it’s the middle of the day, and I wouldn’t have let him in if he had been drinking.” She picked up the purse her mother had placed on the counter and handed it to her. “Go. I told him it would just be the three of us for two hours. It hasn’t even been thirty minutes yet. Don’t turn me into a liar. They need a chance to get to know each other.”

“He lost that chance when he picked up a bottle.” Ignoring the elegant leather bag, Azalea walked past her toward the outside door.

Jazmine rushed to cut her mother off. “Rosemarie has a father, and we are going to learn to deal with that. Please go back to Daddy. I’ve got this.”

A scream came from the balcony. Both women lunged for the door.