The Man From Her Past (15 page)
“What?” He buttoned his shirt. “Not that I’m bothered if you’re having second thoughts, because they’re not about anything real.”
She put on a sweater with a V-neck that dipped low enough to expose her camisole. The shadow of her skin beneath the lace fascinated him.
“Look at me,” she said. “I mean, look at my face.”
“For now.” He kissed her forehead. “What’s up, Cass?”
“When we walk out of this room, we’re saying something to my father and Hope.”
“Everything I want to say.” He put on his jeans. “That I want to marry you again and I want to be Hope’s father.” He shook his head. “And Leo’s son, though I may have failed him more than anyone.”
“Dad should have told us something was wrong. I should have stayed in touch.” She leaned down to kiss him as he bent for his shoes. He rubbed his cheek, liking the warmth of her lips. “Today isn’t a time for recriminations.”
“You’re not bolting at the mention of marriage.”
She sat on the bed as if her legs had given way. “Yeah,” she said. “Funny enough, we’re giving each other everything I want.”
A knock at the door made them stare at each other.
“Cass,” her father said, “time to get up. We have to make cocoa for Hope when she gets up.”
“Tradition.” Cassie stood, her eyes a little wary.
At last Van felt sure when he put his arm around her waist. “Here goes,” he said. “I don’t think your dad will mind.”
“But what if you change your mind?”
“About the time the earth starts revolving backward,” he said, and opened the door.
Leo’s mouth dropped open. He shut it. “Van.”
“Morning. I should have asked you before I stayed the night, but Cass and I got home in the early hours.”
“She’s your wife,” Leo said.
“Not yet, but she will be again soon.”
Down the hall, another door opened, and Hope burst out. “Santa,” she said, dancing. Then she saw Van and she stopped dead.
“Hey,” he said, lowering his voice, hoping she wouldn’t be upset when she realized.
“He’s real.” She pressed her palms together, linking her fingers so tightly the tips turned white.
“Who’s real, baby?” Cassie went to her first, but Hope ran around her, flinging herself into Van’s open arms.
“Santa’s real.” She locked her arms like a vise around his neck. “Josh Barr told me Mommy was my Santa, but we saw Santa at the mall, and I asked him for you, Mr. Van, and here you are. He’s really real.”
Van held on tight. How long had she been his daughter already? Before he’d even known. “You’d better believe.”
He couldn’t see for sure through his own tears, but he thought Cassie and Leo might be crying, too.
L
AST ON THE JUDGE
’
S DOCKET
, they waited until afternoon turned to an early January evening. Cassie held a wriggling Hope. Leo snoozed, jolting every so often when he woke himself snoring. Van just held her hand and looked like a man in a maternity waiting room.
“Are you worried?” she finally asked.
“I’m scared out of my wits. What if I’m a bad father?”
“Every parent feels that way.”
“Can I call you Daddy now?” Hope asked. “I don’t care what some man says, and it’s taking too long.”
Van glanced at Cassie. She’d thought waiting for the actual adoption would make calling Van Daddy more special for Hope. “Go ahead,” she said. “We can’t get any closer, and Van couldn’t be more your father.”
“I know that.” Hope bounced again. “Why does some guy have to tell us it’s okay?”
“That’s the way it works,” Van said. They’d agreed to wait until Hope asked for the truth to give it. Her teenage years weren’t that far away. “Why don’t you give Mommy a rest and sit with me?”
“Okay, Daddy.” She hopped on his lap, and the door opened to the judge’s chambers.
His clerk beckoned them. “Sorry we’ve been so long. We’re still dealing with cases from the New Year’s Eve roadblocks. A small-town judge…”
Cassie barely understood what the woman was saying. Judge Jake Sloane rose from behind his desk, younger than she’d expected.
“I think we have all the paperwork in order.” He held out his hand to Hope. “You must be Miss Warne.”
Clinging to Van’s hand, she looked up. “I thought I was going to be Hope Haddon.”
“In a few minutes,” he said.
Cassie tried to breathe. Their wedding next week couldn’t be more stressful. She loved Van with no doubts whatsoever, but she’d been Hope’s only parent for a long time.
“We don’t really have a ceremony,” Judge Sloane said. “Mrs. Haddon, will you step over here?”
She moved to Hope’s side. “I’m still Cassie Warne until next week. If the name matters.”
“Next week?”
“The wedding,” Van said. “We wanted to do this first so Hope knows she’s my daughter, no matter what.”
“Okay.” Judge Sloane didn’t understand, but there were no rules against an adoption before a wedding. “Mr. Haddon, do you want to be Miss Warne’s father from now on?”
“For good,” Hope said, as if it were a test.
“For good and bad and everything else,” he said. “How about you? Do you want to be my daughter?”
“I already am.” Hope didn’t seem to feel the portent of the moment. “Mommy—” she grabbed Cassie’s hand “—are we all married together now?”
The judge shrugged, the shoulders of his robe looking awfully wide. “As married together as I’ve ever seen a family.”
Cassie hugged Van, loving the strength of his body as he instinctively leaned into her. She lifted Hope between them. “We recognized each other all by ourselves—a husband, a wife, and our own little girl. How lucky are we?”
“Luck has nothing to do with being smart enough to grab love and never let go of it again,” Van said. “Like I’m hanging onto you two.”
“Uh-oh. Grampa’s still asleep in the hall.” Hope wriggled to get down, and Cassie shared a stunned glance with Van. They’d marched in, the three of them, alone. Hope tugged at the judge’s voluminous sleeve. “We gotta start over, Mr. Judge, or he’s gonna be ma-a-d. This was his idea. Him and me talked about it before Mommy and Daddy knew anything.”
ISBN: 978-1-4268-0457-1
THE MAN FROM HER PAST
Copyright © 2007 by Anna Adams.
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