A rooster crowed. It was early morning.
"Someone threatening was at the door, sweetheart." Colt held it carefully. "He shouldn't be back. Can you give me a minute to put it away? I want to talk to you about Vicki."
"Okay, Daddy." Clara wobbled as she walked to the kitchen table. The second she crawled into a seat, her arms plopped on the table to help her head stay straight.
He rushed inside his room and locked his rifle in the closet.
Finished, he wiped his brow. The last time he had held his gun had been overseas, and he'd never done it in front of Clara.
He covered his mouth with his hand as he stared at his daughter. She deserved to be safe, and perhaps he'd overreacted.
Then he swallowed and stared at Vicki, who hovered at his bedroom door. Her blonde head and open heart deserved to be protected too. No one would get to them. He stepped out of the shadow of the doorframe and smelled the strawberry-scented air.
“What was that all about?”
“I’m a Morgan. The press always wants a story about my family.”
“Did anything happen that set them off to come here?”
“I wouldn’t know. We can ignore and hope they go away or I can call my brother for added security?”
“I don’t like that idea.”
“Let me know.”
Vicki returned to the table and sat next to Clara. It was time their daughter knew.
Colt sat across from Vicki and took his daughter's hand. "What do you think of Vicki, sweetheart?"
He glanced at Vicki for a brief moment, and saw her smile falter as she covered her chest with her hands. He nodded at her. It was time.
Clara dropped her hands to her side. "Daddy, you know. I want to keep her."
With a nod, Colt asked, "Clara, have you wanted to meet your mom?"
"Are you going to marry Vicki?" She smiled at him.
"No." His heart beat a mile a minute on that one. Clara needed to know in terms she understood. "Vicki is your real mom. She's returned to our lives for you."
Clara's wide eyes didn't blink as she stared at Vicki. "I knew it. Daddy, she's my mom?"
"Yeah."
Vicki nodded, and he swore her eyes looked watery.
"Why didn't you say so?" Clara shook her head. "Can I take her to show and tell, then?"
"No. Vicki is your mom. I'm your dad." Colt stared at Vicki, who hadn't said a word yet. He finished, "And you don't take family to show and tell."
He stood to give them both a moment. "What do you want for breakfast?"
Vicki scooted closer to Clara and wrapped her arms around her.
Neither called out to him. He wandered into the kitchen and decided to make them all eggs.
The girls talked.
Vicki spoke animatedly, and her face shone with joy. She'd be a beautiful bride on her wedding day.
He dropped the oil into the pan and it spattered. He woke up from the daydream and found the eggs.
Clara's question about marriage had shaken him. The last thing he needed was a wife, though Vicki staying would have benefits. At the fridge, he found the bread for toast and the hash browns. He returned to the stove to get another pan started. Quickly he set the table for the breakfast.
Vicki would be a good wife. The thought spun in his head. He spooned the hash browns on the plates, added the eggs, and the toaster clicked. Vicki and Clara sat there with their pinkies together, like they'd made a promise.
Done, he returned to the table, placed the plates down, and stared at Vicki, with her eyes wide, shining with tears. "Thank you, Colt."
Her smile set off fireworks inside his belly.
Then she turned serious. "Now what's going on, Colt? My phone has almost a hundred missed calls and text messages."
"Mom," Clara said, "Dad said he scared them off."
Colt massaged his neck. "Your mom doesn't have to call me dad. That's what you call us, not what we call each other."
"Jenna's mom and dad call each other that," Clara said. "And you're my family."
Vicki hid her phone in her pocket and stared at Colt. He sat and found his fork. "Wow, I'm hungry right now. Sit and talk more to your daughter, princess."
No one moved. Perhaps he was bad company this morning. Colt dropped his fork. "You two get started. I'll find out what happened in the real world."
A half-smile grew on Vicki's face as she stared at Clara, who launched into another speech on a matching wardrobe run.
Colt scrolled through the messages on his phone.
Then another knock rang through the house and the girls stopped talking. Colt dropped his phone on the counter and went toward his bedroom.
Vicki whispered, "Don't. See who it is first."
She would have an opinion on guns. They needed to find out why reporters were here.
#
Colt unclenched his fists and took a few deep breaths as Vicki glanced at the door. "I'll get rid of them."
"Thank you, Colt."
He stormed toward the door.
Reporters were never good. Vicki's hand covered her racing heart, and her legs were still weak. For a moment she thought she'd faint, but then she stared at Clara. Their innocent girl needed to stay that way. They'd go to the kitchen or her room. "Help me clean up."
Colt went outside to deal with a second set of reporters on his property.
Vicki kept her daughter close. Clara helped with the dishes and the pair of them brought everything to the sink.
Her daughter stared at her. "Mom, Dad made breakfast, but never ate. Can we pack him something?"
At least their baby wasn't disturbed. Vicki nodded. "Great idea, though he should return in a moment."
Clara stepped onto a stool to help with the dishes. Vicki turned on the faucet, and Colt stormed through the hall. Seconds later, he returned to the front door with some paper in his hand.
She said nothing as he went outside.
Clara elbowed her lightly. "Dad said I can't take you to show and tell. At school, will you meet my friends?"
"Sounds like a plan." Vicki laughed, and rubbed her daughter's arm as she kept her gaze on Colt at the door. "Why can't we throw a party for your friends here?"
"Yeah!" Clara shouted.
A party for five-year-olds couldn't be too hard. Vicki nodded. "Okay, but we'll have to ask Dad if it's okay."
Vicki bumped into her daughter's shoulder, and they both stared at Colt as he said goodbye to someone at the door. Neither one of them moved until he closed the door behind him. His lips were pressed together, and he shook his head.
For moment, Vicki blinked, and her hands clenched on the counter. Colt closed his eyes like he needed a moment.
Clara turned the faucet off, and Vicki placed the last dish in the drying tray. She swallowed and then asked, "Can you go to your room for a few minutes, sweetie, and let me talk to your dad?"
"Sure." Clara jumped off the stool. "For the record, I like you, Mom."
Vicki sipped on a coffee Colt had made for her and stared at him. She waited for him to open his eyes again. Whatever happened outside had him tensed up in his shoulders.
Clara's bedroom door closed. Then Colt opened his eyes and met Vicki's gaze.