He gripped the steering wheel so tightly his fingertips numbed. He hadn't considered any of that.
"You came recommended by someone I trust. Katie wouldn't steer me wrong."
She huffed. "Katie doesn't know me. She knows of me."
"I'm obviously unsuited to care for a child, but I'm trying."
"That's all anyone can expect."
"Educate me."
"About what?"
He had no idea what he didn't know. "First, tell me about yourself, and then tell me what you learned from spending the night with Maddie."
"Is this a post-hire interview?"
"No, I'd like to know you better."
She let out a sigh.
"I'm a first-grade teacher who works at Creek Elementary School. I've been there for a year but have been teaching for eight. I like the grade I teach because the kids are fun, still have respect for their elders, and they are like sponges."
She seemed to perk up while talking about her job. She obviously liked it.
"Where were you before Creek?"
"I worked in Silver Springs." Her words lost their lilt of happiness.
"Why did you leave there?"
Out of the corner of his eye, he watched her scrub her face with her hand. It was what he did when he was up against something tough.
"My husband died, and staying there was too painful."
His foot tapped the brake, and the car jolted like his heart. "I'm so sorry. That must be hard."
"More than you'll ever know."
"Maybe it's fate that Katie recommended you. I mean … you and Maddie have something in common."
"Oh … I'm certain that Maddie feels sad while my pain still sits in the rage phase."
He wasn't sure what the phases of grief were, but he knew anger was one of them.
"Everyone moves from shock to acceptance at a different pace."
She looked toward the window. "I'm pretty sure I'll stay exactly where I am for a while."
That seems odd, but what do I know? His life was different from everyone's in that he had already come to terms with his parents' loss well before they passed.
"It sounds like you love teaching."
"It's the best thing about my life. I love kids. What we teach them now will make a difference in the world later. Everyone that Maddie comes into contact with will influence her life and mold her into the woman she'll become. What kind of woman do you want your daughter to be?"
She kept referring to Maddie as his daughter, even though it wasn't confirmed. He wasn't sure how he felt about that because he'd be a terrible role model. Hell, he was a man who used the women that used him. Not one of his concert hookups asked anything about his life or journey. All they wanted was a night of passion to write about in their journals.
"I haven't come to terms with having a little girl," he whispered. "There's no way I can imagine her as a woman."
"Keep in mind that she's going to see how you treat the ladies in your life, and that will be how she'll expect men to treat her."
"Do they still accept girls at convents?"
"You are kidding, right?"
"Well, do they?" He wouldn't want his daughter dating a musician who was never there and never faithful. Life on the road was hard, but not as lonely as others made it sound. There was always a willing woman to relieve the stress of the day. The only thing he didn't have was a confidant—someone to share his worries and wishes with. And from what he'd seen over the years, relationships were far too complicated. All he had to think about was Gray, his divorce and the settlement, to steer clear of that type of commitment.
"I'm sure they do in some places, but Maddie isn't going to be a nun. She's got so much to offer."
"I wouldn't know at this point. I don't know how to talk to kids."
"You talk to them like you would an adult. People make the mistake of baby talking to children. I find that children will rise to expectations as long as they are reasonable. No one is perfect. We all make mistakes, so expecting her to be flawless is misguided. Your first and foremost goal for her should be that she's happy."
They entered Copper Creek, and he drove down the main road where the lion's share of restaurants and shops were. "Where too?"
"Walmart is fine." She pointed to the right, where the store sat at the far side of the parking lot. "It's a one-stop shopping experience. Have you ever been in one?"
"I'm not a label snob. While I've got money, I'm not what you'd call rich."
"Rich is relative to what you have. A man who has a dollar is rich compared to the man whose pockets are empty."
He parked the SUV and helped Maddie out of the car. When she slipped her hand in his, the iciness inside him continued to thaw. It wasn't her fault that her mother was irresponsible and her father, whoever that might be, was an idiot. She'd been brought into the world, and she needed someone to acknowledge her existence.
A lump caught in his throat because, in that second, he realized that he and Maddie were more alike then different.
He swung her up and put her on his shoulders, where she held her bear with one hand and gripped his hair with the other.
"Are you ready to shop, Maddie? I hear your shoes hurt your feet."
She squealed as he spun around. Once inside, he lowered her to the cart, where she managed to squeeze her legs through the holes of the child seat. There had to be an age limit or size restriction, but he didn't care because the kid was happy and that, according to Mercy, was his goal for the day—every day for that matter.
"Let's start at shoes and work our way around," Mercy suggested. "If Maddie is a good girl, maybe Daddy will buy you a toy."
"We talked about this. Do you think it's wise to tell her something that's not necessarily true?"
She walked ahead but called over her shoulder. “Have
