To Be a Family (Harlequin Superromance) (3 page)

Over the next three weeks, while he waited for Tuti’s visa, he
gave her English lessons and taught her how to swim. While her uncle was a
fisherman and they lived in a coastal village, Tuti, like most Balinese, was a
novice in the water.

The day Tuti learned to float on her back, John decided it was
time. When they got back from the beach, he joined Wayan on the shaded
bale
for tea. Tuti started to skip off to the kitchen.
John called her back and asked Wayan to explain to her in Balinese that he was
her father. Wayan spoke softly at length. When he was finished, Tuti turned to
John.

“Bapa?”
she repeated, her small
forehead wrinkling.

Wayan nodded and said something else in their language.

John smiled encouragingly. It must be hard for Tuti to accept
that he, a stranger from a far-off country, was her father. But she took it
calmly, almost fatalistically, once she understood. Nena had assured him long
ago that she intended to tell her daughter he was a good man. She must have
lived up to her promise.

“Ask her if she’d like to come with me and live in Australia,”
John said to Wayan. “She can go to school and swim in the ocean. She’ll have her
own room and make new friends.”

Wayan conveyed the information. Tuti’s face lit at the first
few words. She nodded, her eyes shining. “Yes!”

John gave her a hug. He’d had her at the word “school.”

* * *

K
ATIE
CARRIED
a
cup of coffee into her home office, the master
bedroom of her two-bedroom house. She slept in the second bedroom because the
master was bigger and could accommodate both her artwork and her writing.

The easel that she used to create the acrylic paintings that
illustrated her books stood in front of the window to take advantage of natural
light. Against the far wall a table was littered with palette, brushes and
paints. On the other side of the room she’d set up her computer, bookshelves and
a whiteboard to scrawl ideas on. People thought that just because there weren’t
a lot of words in a children’s book they mattered less. But the truth was, that
made each one matter more.

She slid into her chair and powered up her computer. Lizzy and
Monkey were stuck in a swamp where a crocodile was about to eat them. Generally
Monkey got the pair into scrapes and Lizzy got them out. This time, however,
Lizzy had followed a colorful parrot into the swamp and gotten them lost.

Like all her stories this one had a basis in reality. Years ago
she and John had gone out walking after a heavy rain. After hiking through the
muddy terrain for a couple of hours, Katie had had enough. Ignoring John’s
warning against leaving the path, she’d taken what she thought was a shortcut
and had gotten lost. Too stubborn to give up, she’d led them deeper and deeper
into the bush.

Thinking about John led her to wonder about Tuti. Who was this
girl who lived near a jungle? He liked kids. Maybe in lieu of the family they’d
planned he’d sponsored a child. Or maybe Tuti was the daughter of friends he’d
made in Bali. She knew he went surfing over there every few years. Riley had
told her John was in Bali now, on holiday.

It was strange that John had never married. According to Riley,
these days he went out with party girls—the antithesis of who she was. Maybe if
he settled down and had a family she would find it easier to move on. But the
thought of John married to someone else made her chest constrict.

Which was so wrong because she was
over
him. The reason she hadn’t gotten serious with anyone else was
because she didn’t have time for romance with her teaching and her writing.

Speaking of her writing…she needed to buckle down and get some
work done. Lizzy was walking in circles while Monkey swung from branch to branch
in the trees above her head, saying he told her so. How was she going to get
Lizzy out of trouble? On that hike years ago, by sheer luck she’d stumbled on
another path that led back to the parking lot. But luck wasn’t good enough.
Lizzy had to triumph using pluck, resourcefulness and brains.

She wrote in a patch of clear sky so Lizzy could track the
movement of the sun and figure out the compass points. That way, knowing the
road lay to the west, Lizzy could navigate her way out of the swamp.

The phone rang. “Hello?”

“Hey, Katie,” Paula said. “Riley and I are going to try the new
French restaurant in the village. Do you want to come?”

“What, now?” She was just getting into the zone.

“It’s six-thirty on Friday night. Not a bad time to get a bite
to eat. What do you say? Jamie’s at a sleepover birthday party so I’m free,
free, free.”

“You and Riley should enjoy a night to yourselves. I’d be a
third wheel.”

“You’re never in the way. We want you to come. Please.”

Katie glanced at her watch. She would be lucky to make her
daily word count and get to the gym before it closed. As well as a healthy diet,
she’d adopted regular exercise as part of her rigorous regime aimed at achieving
maximum health. “Thanks, but not this time. I have too much to do.”

“Has anyone ever told you, you work too much?”

“No,” Katie lied. John used to say that to her all the
time.

She had to work, to keep writing proposals till another book
sold. Her agent had sent out her latest several months ago. Every day she hoped
to hear good news when she hurried to check the mailbox as soon as she got home
from work. A new contract would add more pressure but without one…well, she
wouldn’t be a real writer, would she?

She promised to meet Paula and Riley for coffee at the deli on
Sunday morning and hung up. Not ten minutes passed before the phone rang
again.

Groaning, she reached for the phone. “Hello?”

“Katie, glad I caught you,” Adele, her agent in New York, said
rapidly. “Have you got a minute?”

Katie hit Save and sat up straight. “Have you heard something
about my book proposal?”

“Have I heard something?” Adele brayed out a laugh. “Yes, but
first I want to give you some news. Are you sitting down? I want you to be
sitting down.”

Katie’s heart rate kicked up. News that was more important than
the publisher’s response to her proposal? “I’m sitting. Go on.”

“
Lizzy And Monkey
debuted at number
forty-three on the
USA TODAY
bestseller list.”

“Wow.” Katie forgot to breathe. “Just…wow.”

“You’re on to a winner,” Adele chortled.

“Does the publisher know? What did they say about my new idea?
Did they like it?”

“Oh, I let them know about the bestseller list, don’t you
worry. They want to buy your next book—”

“Oh, thank God!” She wasn’t going to be a one-hit wonder.

“Plus two more.”

“What?”

“They’re offering you a three-book contract.”

Katie’s mouth opened and closed. Light-headed, she blinked
against the spots in front of her eyes. Then she realized she was holding her
breath and let it out with a whoosh. “Three-book contract. That’s amazing. Are
you sure?”

“You’d better believe it. The catch is, they want to release
the books bang, bang, bang, to take advantage of your bestseller status and
build your name.”

“Oh, Adele…” This was a far greater success than she’d ever
dreamed of. Well, okay, she’d
dreamed
of hitting the
lists but it had been a fantasy. She’d never actually thought it would happen.
Now it had. Suddenly a whole new world was opening up to her. She wasn’t just a
small-town grade-one teacher who dabbled in children’s stories. She was a
writer.

Adele brought her down from the clouds. “Before you say yes, I
want you to be sure this is what you want. I know you’re committed to your
teaching. We’ve talked about your career goals and your workload. You only
wanted to write one book a year. Are you going to be able to do three books in
twelve months?”

“I—” Her chest tightened again. Could she write that quickly?
Not just write, but paint the illustrations? Three books. She’d only plotted out
one more book. Did she have that many stories in her?

“Do you want some time to think about it?”

She pressed a hand against her stomach and forced herself to
breathe out. There was no way she was going to pass up such a golden
opportunity.

“No,” she said firmly. “I can do it. I
will
do it.”

But as she hung up, her bubble of elation burst with a tiny
pop. She’d given her word. Now she
had
to do it.

No, she wouldn’t give in to anxiety.
Que
sera sera
. She, evidently, was meant to be a writer, and a prolific
one at that. She laughed aloud, partly with nerves, partly elation. With three
new stories to write she would have to have adventures of her own now.

CHAPTER THREE

J
OHN
BLINKED
HIS
EYES
OPEN
. Morning sunlight filtered
through the curtains. For a moment he lay spread-eagled across his king-size
bed, savoring the sheer comfort of waking up in his own home. A cool, dry breeze
drifted in through the open window, bringing with it the scent of pine and
eucalyptus and the kookaburra’s laughing call.

Their plane had landed at ten last night and it had been after
midnight before they’d gotten home. Tuti had fallen asleep in the car. He’d
carried her in, still sleeping, in his arms and tucked her into the single bed
in the spare room he used as a study.

Now he rose, remembered to put his track pants on, and walked
barefoot down the hall to his study. He peeked in the door. The folding cot,
crammed between a desk and a filing cabinet, was empty. On the floor, a black
pigtail poked out of a bundle of blankets. Her feet were stuck between the legs
of his computer chair.

He needed to make some big adjustments around here for Tuti to
feel at home. Starting with getting her a proper bed and dresser and clearing
space for her to put her things. Where, in his two-bedroom bachelor apartment he
would move his computer and desk, he didn’t have a clue. Certainly not in his
bedroom. Nothing quelled romance like a workstation next to the bed.

Romance? Huh. With no woman in his life at the moment he didn’t
need to worry about that. Anyway, with Tuti around, for him to go out at night,
come home late, sleep with a woman in his bed… It was simply out of the
question. His love life wouldn’t come into contact with his daughter’s life
until and unless he was serious about a woman.

Yep, his romancing days were over for the foreseeable future.
Dead in the water at the ripe old age of thirty-five. Overnight he’d gone from
being a carefree bachelor to single dad. This was going to be one helluva steep
learning curve.

Tuti shifted in her sleep. Carefully, he pushed the chair back
and crouched to touch her shoulder. She blinked sleepily. “Hey, Tuti. Why are
you on the floor?”

She stared at him.

Because that’s where she was used to sleeping, dummy. “Do you
want some breakfast?” Again a blank look. “Are you hungry? Food?” He mimed
eating.

She sat up, the blankets falling away, exposing her bare arms
in a thin T-shirt. Shivering, she pulled the blanket around herself.

“I’ll turn the heat on.” The room temperature was comfortable
but after living in the tropics she was bound to feel the cold. “May I?” he
asked, picking up her faded pink backpack to find her something warmer.

All her clothes were T-shirts and shorts. Her only shoes were a
pair of flip-flops. Oh, man.

He showed her where the bathroom was then hunted out an old
sweatshirt of his that she could wear like a dress and a pair of thick socks.
When she was warm and had a bowl of cereal in front of her he sat down to make a
list of all the things she would need.

Clothes. But what kind and how many of each item? What size? He
had no idea of how to shop for a child. So he did what any red-blooded male
would do. He picked up the phone and called his mother. “Hello, Mum? We’re back.
Would you like to meet your granddaughter? Frankly, I could use advice.”

“Would I?” Alison Forster let out a sound that was half sob,
half laughter. “I’ve been dying for you to get back. In fact, I’ve been waiting
years for this day. It’s not the way I imagined it but… I’ll be there as soon as
I can.”

John hung up the phone. His mother had raised three kids and
regularly babysat his sisters’ children. She would know what to do.

Fifteen minutes later Alison Forster’s high heels tapped
through the front door in a flurry of feminine excitement. She was all silk
blouse, bouffant blond hair, loud voice and a cloud of perfume. In her bejeweled
hands she carried bags loaded with dolls, a teddy bear, books and several
outfits of warm clothing, including a pair of pink pants and long-sleeved top,
socks and two pairs of running shoes.

“I didn’t know what size to get but figured I could always
bring one pair back. Or take Tuti to the shop with me if neither of these fit. I
hope you don’t mind me taking it upon myself to buy her some things, but when
you rang a couple of weeks ago to say you were bringing her home, well, I just
got carried away.” Alison glanced around. “Where is she?”

“I don’t mind a bit. In fact, I’m grateful.” John poked his
head into the kitchen. “Tuti, come here, sweetheart. This is your
grandmother.”

“Hello, darling,” his mother cooed and enveloped Tuti in a hug,
squeezing her hard. “You can call me Nana. I know we’re going to be great
friends. We’ll make cookies and go shopping and I’ll show you where I work—”

John winced as his mother prattled on. She had a huge heart but
she could be overwhelming to people who weren’t used to her ebullient,
extroverted style.

Tuti pulled out of Alison’s arms and took a step back. She
glanced at John and took another step back.

“It’s okay,” he assured her. “Don’t be shy.”

Alison held out a doll and tried to get Tuti to take it. “This
is the latest toy, I’m told. All the little girls in Summerside have one. You
want to be just like all the other children, don’t you?”

Tears started in Tuti’s eyes. She bit her lip then, without a
word, turned and ran from the room.

“Oh, dear.” Alison’s manicured fingertips went to her lips.
“What’s wrong? Doesn’t she like dolls?”

“You came on a tad strong.” John hadn’t realized until now how
much his mother must want him to have children. She didn’t try this hard with
his sisters’ kids. He was counting on her to ease him into fathering Tuti, to
taking some of the burden of responsibility off him. If Tuti was afraid of her,
that wasn’t going to work out so well. “It’s her first day. Give her time.
She’ll get used to you.”

At least, that’s what he hoped. He glanced at the hallway down
which Tuti had disappeared. Through work he dealt with juvenile offenders. On
the other end of the spectrum were his nieces and nephews—well-adjusted children
from loving homes, comfortable if not well-off, who all had two parents.

It brought home to him again how out of his depth he was with
Tuti. Not only from another culture, speaking another language, but she’d
recently lost her mother. Really, what did he know about raising a kid like
Tuti?

“Thanks for the clothes and toys,” he said to his mother. “Help
yourself to coffee. I’ll go talk to Tuti.”

He grabbed a teddy bear and some clothes and found her huddled
beneath her blankets. Without a word, he handed the stuffed toy to her and
waited, using the time to figure out how to explain the strange woman who’d
hugged her too hard. He couldn’t remember, if he ever knew, the Balinese word
for grandmother. After a few minutes Tuti emerged, her cheeks streaked with
drying tears. She clutched the teddy bear to her chest and looked at him with
huge dark eyes.

“The lady—” John pointed in the direction of the kitchen then
at himself. “My
meme
.”

Tuti blinked.

“You’re
my
child,” John tried
again. “I’m
her
child.”

Tuti looked blank.

He sighed. Should he insist she come out and be polite? He had
no idea what child-rearing manuals would say about that. If Tuti were an
Australian kid being obstinate, he would probably do just that. But she was far
from home, cold, and this was her first day. Instinct told him not to insist on
anything. He would make excuses to his mother and ask her to come another
day.

“Never mind. Here, let’s put something warmer on you.” He
pulled out the long-sleeved top. “Do you like pink?”

At the sight of the sparkly design on the front of the shirt
Tuti got out of the blankets and stood before him, shivering. John helped her
dress, wondering what he’d gotten himself into. He’d blundered his way through
this time. But if his mother couldn’t connect with Tuti what hope did he
have?

* * *

“G
ET
OUT
YOUR
notebooks and pencils, boys and girls.” Katie pointed to the carefully drawn
alphabet on the blackboard. “Copy out the letters in your very best
printing.”

Heads went down, paper rustled, several tongues were tucked
into the corners of mouths as the class of grade-one students got down to work.
With a few minutes of quiet Katie sat at her desk and corrected arithmetic
assignments.

A knock came at the door. She opened it to John, wearing his
police uniform and a grim expression. Her first thought was that something had
happened to Riley, and she pressed a hand to her chest to ease a flutter.

He must have seen her anxiety. “There’s nothing wrong.”

“Thank goodness.” Her second fleeting thought, which bothered
her in a different way, was how good he looked, his broad shoulders filling out
a crisp blue shirt topped by epaulets, and his navy pants with the sharp crease
emphasizing the length of his legs.

Then a movement at his side drew her gaze to a little girl
clinging to his hand. She was dressed in the school uniform, a blue-and-white
gingham dress, one size too big. Her black eyes were huge and terrified. Tear
tracks traced her round cheeks. One of the tiny silver circles in her pierced
ears was twisted up. And her little pigtails, which stuck straight out from her
head, were lopsided and uneven.

Katie’s heart melted. Poor sweet thing. Had he found her
wandering somewhere in Summerside and brought her to school? Why hadn’t he taken
her to the office? “Who do we have here?”

“Sorry to interrupt,” John said. “This is Tuti. I tried to get
here before class began so I could introduce you. But first I had to buy the
uniform then I had to get her to wear it. She’s not used to hard leather
shoes....” He trailed off with a harassed expression. “Tuti, this is Miss
Henning. She’ll be your new teacher.”

Tuti. The girl who lived near a jungle. She looked like she
could be Balinese. Had he brought this child to Australia for a visit? Why would
he enroll her in school temporarily?

“I don’t understand,” Katie said. “Who is she?”

John cleared his throat and met her gaze. “Tuti is my
daughter.”

She stared at him. Surely she hadn’t heard correctly.
“Your…?”

“Daughter.” His hand on Tuti’s shoulder tightened protectively.
“She’ll be six years old next month.”

Katie laughed, a slightly hysterical sound. She clapped a hand
over her mouth, aware that her reaction was inappropriate. And must appear
bizarre to her pupils, not to mention to Tuti.

“I don’t understand,” she said again. How could he have had a
child without her?
Idiot. Of course he could have.
They broke up years ago. He’d left her. Since he’d returned to Summerside he’d
never been without a girlfriend for long. He could have fathered a dozen
children.

But how was it that she’d known nothing about this Tuti? Who
was her mother and why had John brought her here? Did Riley know about her?
Questions crowded her mind, confusing her. Emotions she didn’t understand made
her chest ache. But this wasn’t the time or the place to try to make sense of
things. The little girl already looked distressed.

Katie collected herself and forced a smile. “I’m pleased to
meet you, Tuti. Would you like to join the class?”

The little girl pressed closer to John and turned her face into
his waist, her pigtails quivering.

“Does she speak English?” Katie asked.

“A little but she hasn’t said a word since she got here three
days ago.” John’s eyes pleaded with Katie. “I’m sure she’ll get up to speed
quickly but in the meantime she’ll need extra help.”

“I already have a full class—the administration knows that,”
Katie said. “She’d be better off with Phoebe Mallon. Phoebe has another
English-as-a-second-language student.”

“I asked specifically for you. Your assistant principal said it
would be okay.” When Katie didn’t reply to that, he added, “I don’t know Phoebe
Mallon. I know you. I know how much you love kids. I want someone who will care
about her.”

Care about his child with another woman.
Really?

Behind her, shifting chairs and whispers told her the pupils
had finished their work and were getting restless. Probably curious, too, about
the new girl. Dragging this out wouldn’t help Tuti. John was right about one
thing. Katie loved children and she was a soft touch. She would make room for
the girl in her class.

“I’m going to read the class a story, Tuti,” Katie said. “Do
you like stories?”

Tuti stilled. Then she glanced up at John as if looking for
confirmation.

He nodded. “Story…book.” He added to Katie, “We’ve just about
worn out the pages on yours.” He turned back to Tuti. “Miss Henning is the lady
who wrote
Lizzy And Monkey
.”

Tuti brightened a little.

John crouched so he was eye level. “I have to go to work, Tuti.
I’ll come back for you this afternoon.” Her bottom lip wobbled. He brushed her
cheek with his knuckles. “Chin up,” he said, his voice gruff.

Seeing his awkward, tender display of affection, Katie felt a
reluctant tug at her heart. Of course she’d always known John would be great
with kids. He was a favorite uncle. It made sense he would be a natural as a
father.

Tuti looked about to cry. To forestall the waterworks Katie
held out her hand to Tuti. “Come with me,” she said warmly. “You can sit with
Belinda.” She gestured to a girl with curly brown hair in the front row. Belinda
liked to be teacher’s pet but Katie knew she would be kind and helpful.
“Belinda, will you come and show Tuti where to sit for story time? Class, this
is Tuti. Please welcome her.”

The students parroted, obediently if raggedly, “Welcome,
Tuti.”