Into the Fire - Leslie Kelly [43]
She nodded. "Two younger brothers."
Nate didn't suppose J.T. had any more children running around, but he had to ask. "Uh, whole brothers?"
"No. Are you asking because you're interested or because that reporter's instinct is kicking in?"
"I told you I wouldn't say anything, Lace." He shrugged as he started washing pans. "I was just curious. I mean, it's not every day in this paparazzi-loaded world that a man like J.T. can keep his only child a secret."
"He didn't know about me until I was twelve," she admitted.
Lacey watched Nate clean up the kitchen, enjoying, as always, his refreshing self-confidence. Here he was, barefoot, with specks of tomato sauce on his clothes, cooking and waiting on her, yet looking every bit the gorgeous, masculine man he was. Again she sensed that uncanny ability of his to be comfortable in his own skin, at ease with whatever role he played. She admired that. Envied it, in fact.
"How did he find out?"
Believing he was seriously interested, not trying to pry, she said, "I wrote him a letter asking him if he was my father."
Nate blinked. "You're kidding."
"No, I'm not."
"What made you think he was your father? I mean, it sounds like a fairy tale—the woodcutter's daughter learns she's the lost princess or something."
She smiled slightly, remembering feeling exactly that way a few times during her teen years when she'd struggled so hard to make sense of her world. "I overheard my parents arguing one night." She shrugged, then continued. "About me, as usual."
"They argued a lot?"
"No, not a lot. But whenever they did, it was usually because of something I'd done. I used to tell myself it was because I was the oldest, because my two younger brothers were boys and my father liked his sons better than his daughter."
"I'm the oldest of three, too," Nate interjected when she paused. "I know all about always getting blamed."
"I guess I deserved the blame sometimes. I think that argument was over me getting caught throwing water balloons off the roof of the general store at people in the parking lot."
"Water balloons. How shocking for a twelve-year-old."
"Well, we had put food coloring in the water."
"Uh-oh."
"Mrs. Ulster, the children's resource officer from the library, wasn't happy about her white poodle turning green."
He chuckled.
"Not to mention her hair."
"Ouch."
Remembering the rest of the story, Lacey admitted.
"I guess the worst part was that we didn't have balloons, so my best friend had stolen a box of condoms from her brother's room. She saw it in an old movie once. They worked pretty well."
Nate let out a bark of laughter. "That must have been a sight."
"Oh, yes. I think Mrs. Ulster would have been fine about the green hair if it hadn't been for the fact that a rubber got stuck to her earring and kind of hung there for a while before anyone pointed it out to her." Nate dropped to a chair next to her, laughing so hard she saw tears come to his eyes. Lacey was able to shake her head in rueful amusement at the memory.
"When you're the daughter of the most respected pastor in town, it doesn't do to let the sheriff catch you and your girlfriends running around throwing water-bomb condoms at people," she continued matter-of-factly.
"I suppose not."
"Anyway, that night I overheard more than I should have when my parents argued about it. He was so angry, I really thought he might walk out. And I found out the disinterest I'd always sensed from my father was because I wasn't really his daughter at all."
"What'd you do?"
"I asked my mother about it the next day, but she wouldn't tell me the truth. Instead, she begged me to be good, to be the kind of daughter any man would be proud to claim, so our family would be okay."
Nate's laughter faded. "Heavy load."
She nodded. "For the first time I realized I could be responsible for breaking my parents apart. So I decided to try to do better."
Nate reached