The Marine's Secret Daughter Read online

  “Meg, long time no see.” A stout blonde with a glass coffeepot in one hand and a white cloth in the other greeted them and inclined her head at a vacant booth. “Have a seat and I’ll be right with you.”

  The blonde waitress, Trudi, according to her name tag, came over soon after they’d slipped into the red vinyl booth. She put two pebbled plastic tumblers with ice water on the table along with dog-eared menus. She flashed a smile at Riley. “Riley Cooper, as I live and breathe, it is you.”

  Meg rolled her eyes. “Told you news travels fast.”

  He chuckled. “I never doubted you.”

  “Are you staying at the Coopers’ old place?”

  “That’s where I’m staying, but it doesn’t belong to us anymore.” Riley opened his menu.

  “True, but it will be the Coopers’ old place until the new owners sell. Then it will be the Duffys’ old place,” the waitress explained.

  Riley winked at the waitress and turned his attention to Meg. “So, Meg, does that mean you live in your old house?”

  Meg glanced heavenward. “Yeah, despite owning it, I live in Dad’s old house.”

  Riley tapped her arm with his menu. “Just think, when you move, the new people will live in Meg’s old place.”

  Meg rolled her eyes. “This is starting to sound too much like ‘who’s on first,’ if you want my opinion.”

  A man in blue overalls seated at the counter held up a coffee mug and pointed it at the waitress, who grumbled, “Hold your horses, Ralph. Can’t you see I’m waiting on someone?”

  “All I see is you jawing with the newcomer everyone at the Pic-N-Save is so fired up about,” the customer shot back.

  The waitress shook her head. “Don’t pay him no mind. What can I get you to drink?”

  Riley ordered another coffee and Meg ordered juice. Silence fell over their booth when the waitress hustled off to fill their drink orders.

  “I—”

  “Are you—”

  Riley chuckled. “Ladies first.”

  “Were you serious when you told Kevin he could help with my basement cleanup?” She unwrapped her straw and stuck it in her water glass.

  “Of course.” Evidently, his answer pleased her because her eyes lit up. He shouldn’t be surprised at her willingness to help one of her students. Her parents had led by example. So had his, but with vastly different results.

  “Thank you.” She sipped her water and fiddled with the wrapper from her straw.

  “My helping him out pleases you?”

  “He’s a good kid. Life hasn’t given him a lot of breaks. It’s sweet of you to step up and help him.”

  The waitress returned with coffee, juice and a cheerful grin before he could respond, but he was enjoying basking in the glow of Meg’s smile. Him, sweet? Nah, but he was glad to help the kid out and earn Meg’s gratitude as a bonus.

  Trudi pulled her order pad and pencil out of the pocket in her apron. “Decide what you’d like?”

  More of Meg’s smiles, please.

  Meg must’ve ordered because the chirpy waitress was looking expectantly at him. Heat rose in his face. Jeez, he was worse than a teen with his first crush. “Buckwheat pancakes, and do you have boysenberry syrup?”

  Meg and Trudi exchanged looks.

  Riley’s glance shifted between the two women. “What?”

  “Flatlander,” they replied in unison and grinned.

  “Hey, technically Meg is, too,” he pointed out. He knew flatlander was a term locals ascribed to people not born and raised in Vermont.

  “Yeah, but she doesn’t advertise it by refusing maple syrup.” The waitress scooped up the menus and scurried off, shaking her head and chuckling.

  Unable to keep from touching Meg any longer, he reached across the table and traced his fingertip over the top of her hand. “So, you’re teaching at the high school level now? You used to say you wanted to teach the lower grades.”

  She glanced at his hand on hers but didn’t pull away. “I thought that’s what I wanted, too, but after subbing at the high school, I changed my focus to secondary education. I liked the extra challenge.”

  “So, are you teaching full-time or subbing? I didn’t think school was out for the summer yet.” Although the marines had given him the sense of family he’d craved as a child, he felt a twinge of disappointment at missing all the changes in Meg’s life. He hated having to ask the most basic questions about her life.

  “It’s not, but I’m subbing when I can.” She sipped her water. “Finishing school was put on the back burner for a while when I had Fiona, then Ma was sick, and well...”

  “And now?” His hand clasped over hers.

  “Now everything is back on track. I got my degree earlier this month.” She met his gaze. “I’m a part of the community here and have applied for a teaching job at the high school.”

  “You always did want to become a teacher.”

  She lifted one shoulder in a shrug. “I can’t explain it, but from the moment I walked into that classroom in kindergarten and saw that teacher, I knew that’s what I wanted to do.”

  He squeezed her hand. “I remember you were always playing school as a kid.”

  “Yeah, I had the smartest stuffed animals on the block.”

  He laughed, glad Meg had found her place in the world, and yet an indefinable sadness thickened his throat. Would he have been part of the good life she’d made if he hadn’t chosen the marines over her? His hand tightened over hers on the table. Coming home each night to Meg and the little red-haired girl with pink glasses held a certain appeal.

  His chest tightened as he tried to imagine himself reading a story and tucking Meg’s daughter into bed each night. Did little girls enjoy tossing a ball around in the yard? He doubted she’d be interested in learning to identify incoming artillery rounds by their sound.

  The waitress appeared beside their booth and Meg pulled her hand free as their server lowered the plates. “Buckwheat pancakes and boysenberry syrup. There’s different grades of, ahem, real syrup on the end of the booth in case you come to your senses. Can I get you anything else? More juice? Coffee?”

  “I’m good.” Meg smiled at the waitress.

  His mind still on Meg and her daughter, he had to clear his clogged throat. That’s what he got for mourning the loss of something he’d never had. “Me, too, thanks.”

  They fell silent as they buttered their pancakes and poured syrup over the stacks. He took a few bites and smiled at the flavors he’d remembered. “Mmm, just like I remembered.”

  She looked up from her breakfast and smiled. “It’s comforting to know some things remain the same.”

  He could plan a future around that smile. “Coming home after a deployment to see all the changes is a reminder that life goes on without us.”

  “Is that good or bad?” She wiped her mouth with a napkin.

  “A little of both, I guess.” He rubbed his chest. Meg’s life had gone on without him.

  “I know you’re a marine, but what exactly do you do?”

  “I’m part of a marine expeditionary unit,” he said, pride evident in his tone. He’d worked his butt off in training.

  “Oh, wow.” Her eyes widened. “What do they do?”

  “We go ahead of everyone else and make sure it’s safe.” He shrugged, but her interest pleased him.

  “That sounds...” She dropped her fork and reached toward him, but her hand stalled in the middle of the table. “That sounds...scary.”

  Oh, man, he wanted her proud, not frightened. He set his white ceramic mug down and took her hand. “We’re highly trained and very well equipped.”

  “I know but—”

  “Can I get you folks anything else?” The waitress paused alongside their booth.

  He looked to Meg but she shook her head and he dropp
ed her hand. “No, we’re good. Just the check, please, ma’am.”

  “Oh, hon.” The waitress smiled and winked. “It’s already taken care of.”

  “It is?” Once again he glanced at Meg, but she gave him an I have no idea shrug.

  “Anonymously. We may be a peace loving bunch, but we still appreciate your service, hon,” she said with a wave of her hand and moved on to the next booth.

  “At least I can leave her a good tip.” He shifted and pulled out his wallet, noticing the slip of paper he’d gotten during his mandated evaluation after deployment. It had the name of the veterans’ support group nearest to Loon Lake. He stood, tossed some bills on the table, folded his wallet and stuffed it into his pocket. Maybe if he was staying he’d see if he could offer to help others not as lucky as himself...but he was leaving.

  Still, he couldn’t help wonder what it would be like to come to this restaurant on weekends with Meg and her little girl or to have them waiting for him with the other welcoming families at the end of a tour. After his first deployment, he’d searched the gathered crowd for a familiar face, his seabag weighing him down as he trudged through the happy crowd. His parents had both contacted him, separately of course, with apologies for not being able to meet him. But he hadn’t been searching for his parents. It was Meg. Always Meg.

  Chapter Four

  Meg stood at the top of the stairs where the murmur of voices along with a strong chemical odor drifted up from the basement. She was torn between being grateful for Riley’s help and feeling guilty. She didn’t want him to think she was using him. And would he regret helping her once he found out about Fiona? This was the second day in a row Riley and Kevin, who came after his school day ended, had worked down there, first cleaning and now, according to Riley, they were waterproofing the cinder block foundation. Her guess was the paint they were using was responsible for the strong smell.

  “Kevin? Will you stay and have supper with us?” Was she inviting Kevin because she was concerned about him? Or was she using his presence as a buffer?

  Riley appeared at the bottom of the stairs, hands on hips, a white mask hanging around his neck. “What are you doing? You’re supposed to be outside while we do this.”

  “I have been,” she shot back, but his concern curled around her heart and took the heat out of her words. “I was going to put some burgers on the grill and needed to know how many. And why isn’t that face mask on? It doesn’t do any good dangling around your neck. Kevin? You’d better be wearing yours.”

  A muffled “yes, ma’am” answered her question, but Kevin remained out of sight.

  “Is that a yes on staying to supper, too?” She was being polite, not arranging a chaperone or another excuse not to come clean about Fiona.

  She heard Kevin’s voice but couldn’t make out what he was saying. Riley made a shooing motion at her when she leaned down, then turned his head presumably toward Kevin.

  Riley turned back to her. “He’s staying.”

  A muffled protest and Riley shook his head. “He’s staying.”

  They’d gone through much the same thing yesterday when Kevin kept insisting he didn’t want to impose. But Meg caught the look of longing on the teen’s face as he glanced at the supper she’d prepared. Riley had seen it, too, because he clamped an arm around Kevin’s shoulders and insisted he stay. Riley’s simple kindness toward the boy warmed Meg. He’d be a good father. The thought twirled around in her head as she waited for a perfect moment to tell him about Fiona. That would have been five years ago, Meg. But you were too busy nursing your wounded pride. Guilt sat on her stomach like a boulder, getting heavier each day that went by without telling him.

  But after spending a childhood and puberty embarrassing herself by wearing her heart on her sleeve, she’d reached the breaking point when that large manila envelope arrived with all her unopened letters.

  She’d gotten over her pride and screwed up her courage last night, but Kevin had some car trouble and she’d dozed off in the Adirondack chair on her porch by the time they’d gotten the car started. She’d woken up, but Riley had insisted she go in and go to bed.

  “Meg?”

  Riley’s voice broke into her thoughts, yanking her back to the present and scattering the image of him joining her in bed. “Huh?”

  He lifted his eyebrow. “Fresh air. Now.”

  She glowered at him. “Face mask in place. Now.”

  Riley’s soft chuckle followed her and raised goose bumps on the back of her neck as she gathered up the tray with the ingredients for supper and went outside.

  * * *

  Meg locked her front door and pocketed the key. Most year-round residents of Loon Lake only locked their doors during the height of tourist season. Growing up, she’d spent summers and school holidays here and the rest of her time in Boston, so locking doors was a habit she couldn’t shake. She glanced across the yard. No sign of Riley’s truck. Wherever he’d gone, he’d left early. She hated to admit it, but looking out her window was one of the first things she’d done the past two mornings since Riley had finished work in her basement.

  He could come and go as he pleased. She had no hold over him. Ah, but would she once she told him about Fiona? As much as she coveted the idea of having him in her life, she wasn’t sure how she’d be able to handle having that permanent tie if—no, when, since she needed to stay grounded in reality—he had another woman in his life. It had become easy to turn to him, depend on him, during the past two days. He wouldn’t appreciate having her cling once he decided he needed to move on. And Riley was way too sexy not to attract the interest of countless women. Lord only knew how many he might have been involved with since their night together. Just because she’d chosen not to be in a relationship didn’t mean he felt the same.

  She had a life of her own, and as if to prove it, she’d decided not to call him this morning to ask for a ride. Well, yeah, she’d waited until the last moment to leave in case he returned, but that didn’t prove anything.

  A black pickup pulled into the shared driveway as she stepped off her porch. She pursed her lips, annoyed with the way her heart sped up at the sight of Riley jumping out of his truck.

  “Where are you headed to?”

  “I was going to—” The rest of her response was lost in a fit of coughing. She pulled the inhaler from her pocket and puffed twice.

  “I knew I shouldn’t have let you stay home while we waterproofed your basement.” He moved closer. “Do I need to take you to—”

  “No, I don’t need a doctor. Or a motel. You and Kevin did a great job ventilating the place.” She pocketed the inhaler. “The coughing always lingers for a while. I’m capable of walking a mile and besides, I am taking my meds even if they make me jittery.”

  “So where were you going?” He stopped in front of her and planted his feet shoulder width apart. Today he wore jeans and a gray T-shirt that showcased his broad shoulders, the faded red lettering declaring United States Marine.

  She rubbed her hand across her chin, hoping she hadn’t literally just drooled. “I was headed into town.”

  He raised his brow. “Walking?”

  God, she wanted to throw her arms around him, maybe lean against that rock-hard chest again. She shuffled her feet, kicking at the loose rocks in the gravel driveway. “It’s less than a mile.”

  He tilted his head toward the road beyond the tree line. “But there aren’t any sidewalks and that’s a main road. The cars come fast around those corners. Why didn’t you ask me for a ride?”

  Okay, it was obvious he saw her not as some sexy woman, but more like one of those poor, unfortunate victims with a wasting disease in a Jane Austen novel. The women relegated to secondary roles due to ill health. “Well, for one thing, you weren’t here—”

  “I gave you my cell number.”

  And calling him to ask for a ride would’v
e cemented her role, not as a capable woman, but as someone who needed rescuing. “And I’m perfectly capable of getting into town by myself.”

  “I worry about you walking into town.”

  She ground her back teeth. How dare he treat her as an invalid! She’d looked after herself before he arrived and she’d do it again after he left. “And I appreciate your concern, but I’m not some project you need to take on while you’re here. I’m quite adept at taking care of myself.” No, she wanted him to see her as an adult, not that child who used to tag along when they were kids.

  He shook his head. “I didn’t mean it like that.”

  “Then what did you mean?”

  “I understand you don’t need my help...but I still want to offer it. And...and I’d like it if you’d accept it.” He drew his lower lip between his teeth as he watched her.

  “Fair enough.” And it wasn’t as if she wasn’t grateful for his help or such a martyr that she wouldn’t accept it. “You can give me a ride.”

  He smiled smugly and swept his arm in an encompassing arc toward his truck. “Where in town are you going?”

  “The church on the green.” She fell into step beside him, enjoying the clean scent of his soap and what she suspected was fabric softener.

  He opened the passenger door and waited while she climbed in. “Church on a Thursday morning?”

  She nodded. “When I’m not working, I volunteer at a weekly luncheon where everyone is welcome, regardless of ability to pay. Some people use it as an excuse to socialize and make generous donations to keep us afloat, and some come because it’s their only decent meal, so there’s a mix of people. I think the pastor uses it to keep an eye out for people who might need a little extra assistance.”

  * * *

  Riley made sure she was settled before shutting the door. Truth was, although he did worry about Meg walking along the highway, spending more time with her had been his main goal.

  “So you volunteer?” He checked for traffic before pulling onto the highway.

  “Yeah, I like to give back to the community.”

  He slowed for a flagman in front of a road crew trimming trees and glanced at her. Sounded like Meg had integrated into life at Loon Lake and she was a vital and active member of the community.