“What? Here?” Linc frowned, checked his phone and grimaced. “Two missed calls. It was set to silent during the service.” He jabbed the screen, calling her back.
“Do you need a private place to talk?” Pastor Todd shifted his Bible to his other arm, dark brows pinched in concern. “You’re welcome to one of the Sunday school rooms.”
“Thank you.” Zoey pushed on Linc’s arm, nudging him toward the back hallway. “You can call her from there?—”
Ms. Bridges appeared in the sanctuary before the phone could ring twice. Linc hung up as she walked toward them, briefcase in hand. Creases marred her forehead, and she sighed as she approached.
Bad news.
Linc gulped. “It’s Kirsten, isn’t it?” He should have known. She was back, wanted Amelia. Butnow, when things were going so well? When she was calling him Dad?
When he’d finally started to believe in good things?
“Actually, no. It’s not Kirsten.” Ms. Bridges hesitated, shifting her weight from one high-heeled foot to the other as she stopped in front of them. Her gaze flicked to Zoey, then Pastor Todd, and finally back to Linc. “It’s you.”
* * *
“This can’t be happening.” Linc paced the room, his shoes leaving creased tracks in the carpet.
Zoey had given up pacing after him—couldn’t catch him, so once again, she sat in a child’s chair in the small Sunday school room, knees nearly reaching her chest. Ms. Bridges leaned her hip against the chalkboard liner on the far wall, her face drawn.
Zoey’s heart ached, could only imagine what was going on in Linc’s.
“Are you sure?” He stopped pacing to stare at Ms. Bridges, despite the question being one he’d repeated twice already with no different answer.
“We’renotsure, which is why I’m here.” Ms. Bridges crossed her arms over her blouse, sympathy turning her lips. “Like I said, you were due a surprise visit, and on our last call, you mentioned you were attending church regularly, so when you didn’t answer this morning, I thought I’d try to find you here. Figured it better to break the news in person.”
“We appreciate it.” Zoey spoke softly, since Linc didn’t seem to be in a position to.
His face was hard, drawn. Fierce. Nothing like the Linc she’d kissed last night on the pier. “Who is he?”
Ms. Bridges hesitated. “That information would need to come from Ms. West.”
“But I don’t have that option, do I?” Anger sparked in Linc’s eyes, and he shook his head. “I’m sorry. It’s not your fault there’s another guy.”
Zoey swallowed. Surely Linc wasn’t jealous. Not after everything they’d learned about Kirsten. Still, Zoey had only kissed Linc, and felt like she could turn a truck over with her bare hands if another woman so much as smiled at him. And Linc and Kirsten had obviously been much closer than that.
Now, something feral lit Linc’s eyes, dark and protective, like a wild animal determined to keep its territory safe.
This wasn’t about Kirsten. This was about how much he’d come to love Amelia.
Zoey cleared her throat, focused on Ms. Bridges—and not on her accelerating heart rate. They had to figure this out. All of them. Calmly. “What do you recommend we do?”
“A paternity test would be the obvious solution, if you want a guaranteed answer as to who Amelia’s father is.” Ms. Bridges cast a cautious look at Linc. “But I don’t think you need to panic yet.”
A little late. Everyone in the room knew that, including Linc.
Ms. Bridges continued. “There’s more to this story.”
“Now what. Athirdpotential father?” Linc scrubbed his hands down his face.
“No. But the other potential father passed away two years ago.”
Zoey stilled. Linc’s hands froze on his cheeks, then slowly lowered. “Really?”
“Our agency contacted Ms. West yesterday, after she’d been picked up by the local police.” Ms. Bridges cut her eyes to Linc, lips pursed. “And no, I can’t tell you what she was arrested for.”
He wearily motioned for her to continue.
