A Daughter for Christmas (2 page)

He didn't think he had the ability to care deeply for others. It was too painful. He'd lost too many people in his life to risk that again. And yet he wanted to get to know his daughter, be a part of her life. There had been a time in his life when he'd desperately wanted to be a father. He'd given up on that dream—too many tours of
duty in hot zones around the world. The things he'd seen had left their mark on his soul.

But Taylor was his daughter—a part of him.

Max straightened, glancing out the window at Rachel's house. “I'll come up with something.” His hand ached from holding the cell so tightly. “I need to go. I wanted to let you know I arrived.”

“Keep me posted.”

“Will do.”

Max clicked off his cell and stuffed it back in his pocket. After scrubbing his hands down his face, he massaged his fingertips into his temple. Tomorrow night he would meet his daughter for the first time. A tight band about his chest threatened to squeeze the breath from him. He forced oxygen-rich air into his lungs. The realization that months of searching and planning had finally come to an end unnerved him more than patching up a soldier under enemy fire.

 

Pausing in the doorway of the den later that day, Rachel watched her two sons playing with their Legos. After several years of trying to have a child, she and Lawrence had ended up adopting Taylor. When their daughter was five, they started talking about adopting another child. They both wanted more children. They had begun the adoption process again when she'd become pregnant with twins.

Sam was her creative child, diving right in and coming up with things as he went, while Will had to figure out everything before he started. They approached life from opposite ends, and yet they were so close. Their father's unexpected death two and a half years ago hadn't affected them. They had been too young to realize what had really happened to their dad.

Not like Taylor. She'd been Daddy's little girl and had dreamed of becoming a doctor just like her father. Now all she wanted to do was rebel against any authority, especially her mother and the school. It had gotten so bad that Rachel had told her sister she was going to look into homeschooling and she had. It might be just what Taylor needed to do better in her academics. Certainly, the status quo wasn't working.

The chimes of the doorbell echoed through the house. Rachel swung around and made her way to the foyer. It must be Dr. Nancy Baker. The Tallgrass Community College education professor was stopping by on her way home to give her some information on how to start homeschooling.

Rachel opened the front door. The sight of a police officer who attended her church standing there with her daughter next to him stole her breath and greeting.

“I found Taylor in the alley behind the arcade downtown, Rachel. It looks like she skipped school again.”

“The school hasn't called me yet.”

“I don't think she was at the arcade long.”

Rachel peered at Taylor, her head down, her arms and legs crossed, her mouth set in her usual frown. Her soft, short blond hair was now full of gel and sticking up all over. Heavy makeup, especially around her dark green eyes, covered up her olive complexion and made her face look pasty. This was not the way she'd looked when she'd left that morning.

“Thank you, Dan. I'll call the school and let them know Taylor's here.”

Taylor pushed through the entrance and stomped toward the stairs. “I'm going to my room.”

The sound of her pounding footsteps bombarded
Rachel with her child's anger, always ready to erupt at a second's notice. She sighed.

“I'm sorry about this, Rachel. I know you're worried.”

“Was she with anyone else?”

“No, but I think she was getting ready to sneak into the arcade from the back door. I'm going back to check it out, make sure no other kids are there skipping school.” Dan tipped his hat and left.

As the police officer descended the porch stairs, her new neighbor from across the street came up the sidewalk. Worry knitted his forehead, his mouth pressed into a firm line.

“Is everything all right? I noticed the patrol car out front and was concerned something was wrong.” Max's husky bass voice shivered down her spine. There was something about its sound that commanded a person's attention.

The appeal in his green-colored eyes touched her. For over two years since her husband's death, the situation with her daughter had worsened until she didn't know what to do anymore. “Taylor skipped school—again.”

“Again?” He planted himself in the doorway, his large presence filling the entrance as though he could really help her with Taylor.

“Yeah. Third time since the beginning of school. Dan brought her home twice. Once I had to go out and find her.”

“What does she say?”

“Not much and that's what's so frustrating.” Rachel moved to the side. “Come in. No use for you to stand on the porch. Do you want some coffee? I keep a pot on all day. I know I drink too much caffeine.” As she led him back toward the kitchen, she heard herself chattering
a nervous prattle. What a first impression she and her family had made on the new neighbor.

“I drink too much coffee, too.”

She poured two mugs and sat across from him at the oak table, sliding his toward him. “I think I know what's going on, but so far I haven't been able to reach her.”

“What?”

His calm facade wrapped about her, soothing her tattered nerves. “She's never accepted her father's death. After his passing, she started changing. She used to be so open. Now she keeps things inside. I realize as a teenager that can be typical, but in Taylor's case I don't think so. Then on top of that she's having a lot of problems in school. Her teachers complain she can't sit still. She's always talking when she shouldn't. This year has been especially bad. Her last antic was starting a food fight in the cafeteria.”

“How are her grades?”

“As you'd expect, not good. She's passing two classes by the skin of her teeth. I tried a tutor, and she wouldn't cooperate with the woman. She's smart. In elementary school she had pretty good grades. She rarely got in trouble. I've been thinking of trying homeschooling with her.”

“Homeschooling? Kevin said something about a science class he teaches at the office twice a week for some students from Helping Hands Homeschooling Group.”

“Yeah. I'm hoping to hook Taylor up with him. He's been our family doctor for years.”

“Have you talked with him about checking to see if Taylor has something like Attention Deficit Disorder with Hyperactivity?”

“ADHD?” Rachel cupped the mug between her hands,
needing its warmth to melt her chill. “No, I haven't. Why do you think she might have that?”

“Impulsive, can't sit still, trouble in school. It's a possibility.”

“Why haven't any of her teachers said anything?”

“That I can't answer. She's in middle school now and probably has six or seven different teachers so it's harder to notice. A doctor has to diagnose it. If it's not that, Kevin should still check her out to make sure there isn't an underlying health reason for the behavior change.”

“Hyperactive?” Rachel rubbed her chin. “I know she's always moving, but she can sit still when she wants. She'll watch her favorite TV show and not move an inch. Or she'll play a game on the computer and be engrossed to the point she doesn't even hear me come into the room.”

“ADHD kids can be super-focused on something they're really interested in. If they aren't interested, it's very hard to keep their attention.” Max took a sip of his coffee.

“How come you know so much about it?”

“My brother has it and his son does, too. Once a parent understands what's wrong, it helps in working with the child. There are certain things that can be done.”

The fingers about her mug were still cold as though it had seeped deep into her bones. “If I decide to homeschool her, is it something I can do?”

“Sure. I have a book about ADHD. I'll dig it out and give it to you to read.”

Lifting her drink, she locked gazes with him. “I've got some thinking and praying to do. I appreciate your input. I'm at my wit's end. I don't know what to do anymore.”

He smiled, the crinkles at the sides of his dark green eyes deepening. “I hope it helps you.”

“So do I.” Rachel sipped her coffee, a visual link between them.

“Who are you?” Taylor asked from the doorway into the kitchen, her attention riveted on Max.

A
t the sight of his daughter, Max tensed. His heartbeat thundered in his ears, drowning out what Rachel said to Taylor. All he could see was that the young girl looked just like his ex-wife, except the child had his green eyes. The same shape, long lashes. Until now he'd only seen a picture of Taylor, but it had been grainy, from a distance. The fact that Taylor was a mixture of him and Alicia further disconcerted him.

Rachel fixed her gaze on Max. “This is our new neighbor. He'll be working with Dr. Reynolds.”

“Taking Dad's place?” Taylor folded her arms over her chest.

Her words cut through the haze about his thoughts. Pierced his heart. “It's nice to meet you.” This was his daughter. One denied him for years. He willed a smile to his face, but his lips quivered from the strain of trying to maintain a nonchalant front. Nothing felt blasé from the lump in his throat to the knot in his gut.

“Are you gonna be in Dad's office?”

Although the question was directed at him, Rachel hurriedly said, “Hon, Dr. Reynolds needs help. The practice is too much for one man.”

“But—but…” Taylor snapped her mouth closed and stabbed her mother with a fierce expression. Tears filled her eyes.

Max started to rise, the urge to comfort stronger than his common sense.

Rachel beat him to his feet. “Honey, no one can take your father's place.”

But I'm your dad.
The words lodged themselves in his throat, choking off his breath. With his teeth gritted, he remained seated and forced air into his lungs while Rachel made her way toward Taylor.

The teenager backed away and spun around. Her footsteps quickly receded.

Rachel pivoted. “I'm sorry. I need to talk with her.”

“Go. I understand.”

When Rachel disappeared, Max sank back in the chair. His hand shook as he lifted the mug to his lips. For a few seconds, he'd wanted to shout the truth at Taylor and Rachel. But immediately as the urge inundated him, he knew that would be the worst thing to do. Taylor was fragile emotionally and the news could do so much damage. As much as he wanted to be a father, he would not do it at the cost of his daughter's emotional well-being. He had to think about when and how—nothing rash.

 

Rachel pushed open the door. An empty bedroom greeted her. Where was Taylor? She'd heard her stomping upstairs.

Then a noise drifted to her. Rachel stepped farther inside and tilted her head, listening. The sobs came from the closet. Taylor hadn't hidden in there for over two years. The last time was when she'd first heard the news
that her father had died. Rachel moved toward the door that stood ajar a few inches and pulled it toward her.

In the darkness Taylor huddled in her comforter wrapped around her. She clasped it and her legs to her body. When the light from the bedroom invaded the closet, Taylor lifted her head for a few seconds, then curled farther in on herself and continued to cry.

The sound ripped through Rachel, leaving her defenseless in the wake of her child's sorrow. She knelt next to Taylor and laid her hand on her daughter's arm. “Taylor, no one is trying to erase your father's memory. No one can take away the fact he was your dad and a special man. Dr. Reynolds needed help, and Dr. Connors has decided to join him. When your father died, it left a hole in the medical community in Tallgrass that needed to be filled.”

Tear-glistening eyes trapped Rachel. “You've forgotten him. You don't talk about him anymore.”

Rachel touched her wedding ring. “I haven't taken this off since the day he put it on my finger.”

Taylor blinked and swiped her hand across her cheek. Her daughter stared at the diamond pear-shaped solitaire welded to Rachel's platinum band, confusion in Taylor's gaze for a few seconds. “I miss him, Mom. I used to go to his office with him every Saturday. Why did God take him away? I still…” Her words evaporated, leaving only silence.

“Oh, honey.” Rachel sat close to her daughter and wound her arms around her. “I've asked myself that very question, but for His own reasons the Lord took your dad home to live with Him. I don't always understand His plans, but He knows best. I used to fight the Lord on His plans for me, but I've learned it's wasted energy.” She raised Taylor's chin so her daughter looked directly into
her eyes. “That doesn't mean I don't miss your father. I do. I'll always love him.”

Taylor went into Rachel's embrace and nuzzled her cheek against Rachel's shoulder. “I'm sorry about today. I just couldn't stay in class another minute.”

“Why? What's going on?” Brushing her child's hair behind her ear, Rachel cherished the moment Taylor was in her arms. It had been so rare of late.

“It was science. I hate science. I…” She ducked her head down.

“What if I tell you I'm thinking of homeschooling you? How would you feel about that?”

“Like Nicholas? But he's so smart. I'm not.”

Rachel's nephew was a genius, but she had to make her daughter see she was smart, too. “Homeschooling can be for any kid who'll benefit from it. The beauty of it is that we'll go at your pace. If there's something you aren't getting, then we'd spend more time on it.” She cupped Taylor's face. “But most important, you are not dumb.”

Taylor bent back and stared at Rachel. “Do we have to do science?”

She suppressed a grin. “We have to cover the same subjects as all the kids your age, but the curriculum would be tailored to you and even to your interests. I've been talking with your aunt and Dr. Baker. I think it's something we should try unless you're dead set against it.” She'd realized almost from the beginning if Taylor didn't want to do it, homeschooling would never be a success. She had to get her daughter to buy into it.

“No more getting up at six-thirty?”

“We'll have a schedule but not as strict as a school's. If you do better in the late morning, then we'll start later.”

“I like singing. I'd miss chorus and drama class.”

“Have you thought about joining the choir at church?”

“I'm only thirteen.”

“So. There isn't an age restriction. And there's a community playhouse we could look into.”

“You've given this a lot of thought.”

Rachel nodded. “You mean everything to me.”

Tears returned to glimmer in Taylor's eyes. “Can I think about it? I don't want to lose my friends.”

“We can make sure you stay in touch with them. Talk with Ashley, Nicholas's cousin. She's close to your age and being homeschooled.”

Her daughter sucked in a ragged breath. “I'll think about it.”

“Good. I'll let the school know where you are.” Rachel rose and backed out of the closet.

Taylor remained, the comforter cuddling her in its soft confines.

This was one of those times it was best to leave her daughter alone for a while. Hopefully, she would think about homeschooling and decide to try it.

Downstairs in the hallway, Rachel picked up the phone on the table and called the school. After reporting that Taylor was at home, Rachel headed to the den and checked on her twins then made her way to the kitchen to decide what to fix for dinner. She came to a stop a few feet into the room.

Max still sat where she'd left him, sipping his coffee. His gaze transfixed hers. “I didn't want to leave until I knew everything was all right. Your daughter seemed pretty upset when she took off out of here.”

The intensity in his eyes—as if no one else mattered—hastened her pulse to a faster pace. “I think she's okay.
She responded better than I thought she would when I first went into her room.”

“I know we haven't known each other long, but I'm a good listener if you need someone to talk to.”

Rachel glanced at the clock on the wall. “We've known each other less than three hours.”

“I hate seeing someone hurting.”

“That must be why you became a doctor.”

“Yeah,” he murmured, drank the last swig in his mug and stood. “Thanks. You might not like to cook, but you sure make a great cup of coffee.”

“My sister's influence. When she came back to Tallgrass a few months ago, that was the first thing she taught me. She declared mine could grow hair in places a woman wouldn't want.”

He chuckled. “That sounds like someone serious about her coffee.”

“Among other things.” He came abreast of her and suddenly the large kitchen seemed to shrink. “Thanks for your advice concerning Taylor. I'll talk with Kevin. I need answers if there are any.”

“If I can help, let me know.” He smiled, a sparkle in his green eyes. “After all, we're neighbors now, and I've got it on good authority neighbors help each other—at least in Tallgrass.”

“You're a quick learner.”

He strode into the entry hall and turned before leaving. “See you tomorrow evening.” His gaze fastened on to something behind Rachel.

“Yes, six.” She glanced over her shoulder to find Taylor standing at the top of the stairs, a frown slashing her brows downward. When Rachel returned her attention to Max, a shadow clouded his gaze until he realized she was looking at him.

He focused on her, a twinkle dancing in his eyes. “I'm looking forward to meeting the rest of your family, especially your grandmother.” Swinging around, he left.

Aware her daughter was coming down the steps, Rachel observed Max for a few extra seconds—taking in his long strides, his jeans that fit snugly over slender hips, the dark brown, almost black, hair that teased his nape with curls—before shutting the door.

“What's happening tomorrow at six?”

Rachel faced Taylor. “A little dinner party.”

“With the family?”

“Yes, as well as Mr. Bateman and Dr. Reynolds.”

Her daughter nodded toward the street. “Why is he coming?”

“He's the guest of honor.”

“Why?”

“I guess because he's new in town. Just trying to help a neighbor.”

Taylor's eyes narrowed, her mouth pinched. With a snort, she spun on her heel and headed toward the den. When her daughter disappeared from view, Rachel hurried into the kitchen to call Kevin and set up an appointment for Taylor as well as ask him to dinner. She needed answers. She needed help with Taylor.

 

“So, tell me about your new neighbor.” Jordan put the salad into the refrigerator on Saturday evening right before six. “There have been new ones to the street before, and I don't remember you having a party for them.”

Rachel fisted her hand on her waist. “What are you implying?”

“Since he's coming by himself, I figure he isn't married. Is he?”

“No mention of a wife. No wedding ring.” No indication he had one when she talked with Kevin about him yesterday.

“That doesn't mean anything. Look at you. You're still wearing yours.” Her younger sister gestured toward her left hand.

Rachel peered down at her platinum band. “I don't have a good reason to take it off.”

“You wear it to keep men at a distance.”

“Just because you're newly married doesn't mean everyone wants to be.”

“Is he cute? Nice?”

“I guess he's good-looking.”

“Guess! What does that mean? He is or he isn't.”

“Okay, he's handsome, rugged like Zachary. By the way, your husband doesn't mind grilling the steaks, does he?”

“He's already with Doug and Kevin bonding over the grill, and they don't even have the steaks yet.” Jordan walked to the bay window that overlooked the deck. “Do you think Granny and Doug will get married?”

“I sure hope so, or our mother is going to have a heart attack.” Rachel lifted her glass of iced tea and took a sip.

“Maybe we should try fixing Mom up with a man, then she wouldn't be so concerned about what Granny is doing.”

Rachel nearly choked on the drink. Coughing, she managed to set the tumbler on the counter before she dropped it. “What is this? You had a fit when Granny and your son were matchmaking with you and Zachary.”

“But it worked. We're married. Two weeks by the way.”

“So you want to marry Granny, Mom and me off because you are?”

Jordan blushed a deep red. “Being married has some nice benefits.”

“I know. I was happily married once.” She missed Lawrence and didn't think there was a man who could replace him in her heart.

“So tell me about Dr. Max Connors.”

The doorbell rang. “Why don't you go let him in?”

“Sorry. Can't. I'm gonna check up on my husband. We wouldn't want him getting the grill too hot for the steaks. I don't care for meat charred on the outside and red on the inside.”

Her sister fled the kitchen so fast Rachel's head spun. She rushed toward the foyer and came to a stop when she spied Taylor letting Max into the house, a bouquet of flowers in his hand. She hung back to see what her daughter would say.

Max smiled at Taylor. “Hi. It's nice to see you again.”

Her daughter huffed. “Yeah, well, Mom's in the kitchen. I think you know the way.” She turned, caught sight of Rachel and frowned. For half a minute she remained still, then shook her head and hurried up the stairs two at a time.

“Taylor!” Rachel stepped into the foyer. When her daughter halted at the top and peered over her shoulder, Rachel added, “That's no way to greet a guest.”

“He's your guest.”

Rachel's mouth fell open at the rude behavior of her daughter. What was going on? She started to say something to Taylor, but she vanished down the hall before the words could form in her mind. “I'm sorry. I'll talk to her later.”

“Don't worry about it.” He presented the bouquet to her. “These are for you.”

She took a deep breath of the sweet fragrance from the day lilies, daisies and tiny purple blooms. “Thanks, I love flowers.”