LITMIR.BIZ

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farther left to go—he hoped. A native New Yorker, Sam wasn’t used to driving this much, and he’d got to the point where he’d do just about anything this side of the law to get a decent meal and a bed for the night. And he’d die for a strong cup of coffee.

      His journey had been long in more ways than one.

      He’d received a phone call about his daughter’s whereabouts from the PI he’d hired a few weeks prior, just when he’d been about ready to jump out of his skin from the wait. The guy seemed sure this time—he’d really found her. Sam had thought such a feat near impossible, given how little he had to go on, but the investigator had come with high recommendations from a friend mindful enough not to ask pressing questions, and sure enough, the guy had accomplished the task. After taking a few days off to process the news and make some plans, Sam had notified the chefs at the three restaurants he owned that he would be available only by email until further notice, and he’d booked a plane out of New York City, with a room waiting for him at The Frederickson Bed-and-Breakfast in Peach Leaf.

      Now here he was, in the middle of nowhere in West Texas, looking for a girl he’d never even met. A girl who, until fairly recently, he hadn’t even known existed.

      A few of his closest friends had pronounced Sam’s plan crazy for picking up and leaving without any real explanation, but he knew enough to know that sometimes, the crazy thing was the right thing.

      His heart swelled at the thought of seeing her for the first time. Would she look like him? Would she have Sam’s brown eyes and hair? Or would she have Jennifer’s green eyes and wavy, reddish hair, with freckles dotting a button nose? Would she have his love of books and music, or would she be more like her mysterious mother, whom Sam had barely known?

      It was only meant to be a one-night stand—no strings attached. Jennifer had been hesitant to even offer up her first name, though Sam insisted. He’d been young, a frat boy in college, and she was just another coed notch on his bedpost before he’d wised-up and straightened out his life. When he’d got the call from Jennifer a month ago, saying she was sorry, but she just had to tell him something she’d been keeping to herself for years, he’d been expecting anything but the news she gave him. Before she’d spoken the words that forever changed his life in an instant, he had thought that maybe she needed help, or maybe she just wanted to get together for a drink after all those years—hell, maybe she needed money. Anything was possible. But instead, the strawberry-haired girl from a reckless one-night stand whose last name he’d never known gave him the most life-altering news a man could hear.

      They had a daughter.

      He had a daughter.

      As Jennifer explained everything to him, Sam had been so confused and angry he could barely breathe. It turned out she had given their baby to her younger sister long ago when she’d been broke, unemployed, “lost”—whatever that meant, Sam didn’t want to know—and couldn’t handle having a kid. A recent hospitalization for mental illness, it seemed, had prompted Jennifer to think long and hard about some of her choices. She had decided that, even if their daughter didn’t have a mom, she should have a chance to know her father. The girl’s name was Shiloh, and Jennifer’s sister had adopted her when she was an infant. Jennifer said she’d been back to visit only once, but never again. Even when pressed, she wouldn’t say why. She would only reveal that it had been a mistake to go back that one time, and she would never do it again. She’d also said that she wasn’t sure if her sister and child even lived in the same place anymore—she had called a few times but the old number was dead, and she hadn’t tried any harder than that, preferring to leave them alone.

      Sam’s heart had fallen straight to the bottom of his shoes at the news. It had taken a weekend of pacing his town house, racking his brain to figure out what needed to be done. Maybe Jennifer had abandoned the girl, but Sam, now that he knew of her, had no intention of doing the same. He’d been irresponsible and foolish as a young man, but he’d done his best to change his ways, and he wouldn’t turn away from this obligation. He couldn’t even if he’d wanted to.

      Moreover, how could Jennifer have kept this from him? How stubborn must she have been to handle the news on her own? Sure, he was young and foolish back then, but he would have been there for Jennifer and their daughter. He would have done everything he could have to help raise their child. He would never have given up on his own kid.

      The road began to narrow and Sam’s thoughts dissipated. This had to be it. The Lonestar Observatory. He had no real idea what his daughter was doing there. Her location was all the PI had been able to find so far, and he’d assured Sam that the records he’d been able to locate regarding Sam’s daughter pointed to the observatory. It looked, he’d said, as if she might even live there, though the reason for that, like so much else, was still unknown. But in his mind, all Sam could think about was: what could a twelve-year-old be doing spending so much time at a science center? The whole thing was a mystery he’d just begun to unfold. Who knew what other secrets would turn up?

      He had to find out all he could about her, regardless of what that might involve.

      He turned his rental truck into the winding road that marked the way to his destination. He could see large white objects almost the size of buildings spotting the green land, though he assumed given where he was that they had to be telescopes. Even in his haste, and despite his fatigue from driving so far, Sam sensed a quiet beauty about the place. Clusters of trees blanketed acre upon acre with the white stargazers dotting the landscape here and there, like some kind of industrial flower. Sam didn’t know anything about astronomy, but if that’s what his daughter was interested in, he would find a way to be interested, too.

      He would do just about anything to get to know her, but he’d also have to be careful. He couldn’t let her, or anyone who knew her, find out his relationship to her before he was ready—before she was ready. He’d give himself just a week to check on her, even if only from a distance; he’d make sure she was doing okay and getting along well, that she was safe and healthy and cared for, and then he would head home and decide how to proceed. He’d researched his legal rights, but he wasn’t going to do anything to hurt his daughter. If his child didn’t want anything to do with him, he supposed he’d somehow have to make his peace with that, but he was hoping against hope that he wouldn’t have to face such a thing.

      The trees thinned as he reached what must have been the main building, and Sam pulled into a space in the parking lot out front next to a couple of school buses. His heart climbed into his throat and breathing was suddenly difficult.

      Despite the hours spent planning, going over what he would say and how he would explain his abrupt arrival, his mouth went dry as reality closed in. Maybe his friends were right—maybe he was some kind of crazy for jumping into this headfirst. He’d had plenty of miles now to think about how he’d chosen to handle things. Patience had never been his strong suit, and even Sam had to admit that maybe this wasn’t the most intelligent move. But what if... What if he’d had a phone number and called instead—and been refused? Sam swallowed at the painful idea. At least this way he could see her, and give her a chance to choose whether or not she wanted him to be a part of her life.

      Regardless of whether he was allowed to be a dad, Sam was a father now, and he’d followed his instincts—for that he would make no apology. If he had any say in the matter, he would make sure that his daughter didn’t grow up without a dad. At least not any longer.

      He’d made his choice and he wasn’t going back, and he’d start by getting out of the truck. Then he would walk to the front door. One step at a time, he’d make his way into his daughter’s life, and hope that she’d eventually allow him to stick around.

      * * *

      “Well,” said Santa Claus, or, as the nameplate on his cherrywood desk indicated, Dr. Edward Blake, “I’m the official director of the observatory, but if you want more information, you’re gonna want to talk to Ms. Lucy Monroe. She’s the real brains around here.”

      Brains, huh? If Edward Blake, PhD, a man who, by the multitude of plaques and degrees decorating the wall must be a very successful and accomplished astronomer,

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