Father Of The Brat by Elizabeth Bevarly Page A

Then she dropped her gaze to the table, to their two hands so intimately entwined.“No, that’s not likely to be a mistake anyone makes nowadays. Not anyone who knows me, anyway.”
    She tried to tug her fingers free of his, but Carver only tightened his hold. “I know you.”
    She continued to avoid his eyes as she said, “No, you don’t. You knew Maddy Saunders, a different person entirely.”
    Once again, she tried to pull her hand from his grasp. And once again, Carver strengthened his hold on her. “So what happened to Maddy Saunders that made her disappear?”
    For a moment, he didn’t think she was going to answer. She simply sat perfectly still, staring at their hands in complete silence. Then she lifted her gaze to meet his again. Behind her glasses, Carver could see that Maddy’s eyes were dark and distressed and very, very serious.
    “She didn’t disappear,” she said softly. “She died.”
    “How?” he asked quietly.
    Maddy’s voice, too, was soft when she replied. “Reality. Reality came up and kicked her right in the teeth. She fought it off for a while, but eventually, it got her, anyway—beat the life right out of her. She was just a stupid kid, after all. She never really stood a chance.”
    With one final yank, Maddy managed to free her fingers from Carver’s manacle grip. Immediately, she entwined them with her other hand and held tight. He got the impression she did so to keep herself from reaching out to him again, but where such a bizarre idea came from, he had no idea.
    “Maddy, I-”
    “I’ll help you with the dishes,” she interrupted him. “Thanks for dinner. I never would have guessed you’d turn out to be a more than passable cook.”
    It didn’t take a psychic to see that Maddy wanted to change the subject. So Carver let her. For now. But he wasn’t about to be fooled by her. She might claim that Maddy Saunders had gone to wear those big rose-colored glasses in the sky, but he still detected a little of her behind Maddy Garrett’s round, tortoiseshell frames. True, shewasn’t the girl he’d known her to be twenty years ago. Then again, who didn’t change a great deal over two decades? Even he didn’t embrace the same philosophies that had carried him through college and into adulthood. Why should he expect that Maddy would be the same?
    Because, dammit, the answer came to him almost immediately. He watched her collect her dishes and carry them to the sink. Because she was supposed to have been the one to change the world. Not him. Her. Instead, she had succumbed to it. Just as everyone else had. Just as he had himself. His realization that she was no longer anxious, nor even willing, to wield the sword of optimistic hope didn’t sit well with him. He missed the cheerful, nauseating girl he’d loved to provoke so many years ago. He wanted Maddy Saunders to come back to him.
    “You’re going to have to take it upon yourself to make sure she does that.”
    Carver’s head snapped up at the sound of Maddy’s voice, only to realize she had been speaking for some time and he’d heard not a word of what she’d said.
    “What?”
    She poured two cups of coffee and rejoined him at the table. “Rachel,” she clarified. “You’re going to have to take it upon yourself to make sure she feels welcome here. As far as she’s concerned right now, you think of her as an intruder, an interloper. You’re her host in a way, as well as being her father. You have to make sure she’s comfortable.”
    Carver stubbed out the cigarette he’d barely smoked and sipped his coffee, too. “And how do you suggest I do that?” he asked.
    “Spend as much time with her as you can. Take an interest in her. Talk to her. Listen to her. Show her that you care for her and respect her. Treat her like a human being.”
    “Sounds easy enough.”
    Maddy smiled before sipping her coffee. “Except for one thing,” she said as she settled her mug back on the table.
    “Which is?”
    “Rachel,