Not that he could make out many details. She wore a dress that fell to her knees with pants underneath. She had pudgy cheeks and pale skin, and he longed to get closer, to get a better look. To pull her into his arms and hug her to his chest.
The entire vision was…beautiful. Warmth spread through his chest, unexpected and mysterious, as if his body comprehended something his mind was only beginning to grasp. He was filled with a love so powerful that his heart might explode.
Who knew a man could feel such intense emotions?
The tiny girl turned around and knelt in the doorway, then slid a leg down to the stoop. Her next foot reached down to the ground.
Was she leaving the house? Who was supposed to be watching her?
No adult appeared in the cabin door.
Eric’s pulse surged. She could get hurt.
He sprinted up the hill.
She found her balance on the slope and was toddling down toward him. Running, that was. Down this steep grade. Any moment she could trip and tumble forward, rolling downward.
Memory flashed of the last time he'd watched someone topple down a mountain.
Nathan had never walked again.
And she was just a baby.
At last he reached her, gripping her shoulders to stop her forward motion. "Whoa there. Not so fast." He dropped to his knees in front of her.
She regarded him with wary eyes. Wide, brown eyes, just like Naomi's.
A knot clogged his throat.
His baby girl.
She started to back away from him, pulling from his hold. Was she afraid of him?
He had to say something. Quick. He couldn't let her be frightened.
He managed to force out a word. "Hello." His voice came out rough and scratchy, so he cleared it.
She stopped backing up but still eyed him with suspicion.
He smiled. "Are you Mary Ellen?"
The distrust in those big brown eyes melted into curiosity. "Me-me." She patted her chest with chubby fingers.
Her voice was the sweetest symphony he could hope to hear. Emotions tumbled inside him, joy and fear and elation and regret. This tiny being before him, with curls like autumn leaves and eyes like clear pools, was his child. His flesh and blood.
He extended a hand to her, palm up, an offeras much as an invitation. "I'm your papa. I've come a very long way to meet you."
Mary Ellen gazed at his hand, then back up to his face. She didn't speak again, but no hint of wariness remained in her gaze. At least she wasn't afraid of him. That seemed a good first step.
She shifted her attention past him, and her eyes lit. "Ma-ma."
He turned to look down the slope toward the group still gathered in front of the corral. No one even realized the child had come outside on her own.
Whatever Naomi had been doing with the horses had clearly taken her away from caring for their daughter. Such errors in judgment could be disastrous for a child.
Now that he’d finally been united with his daughter, he would make sure she was protected. This wild land was much too dangerous, especially for a child so young.
His life had just shifted. Everything that had seemed important to him before meant nothing anymore. From now on, nothing mattered more than making sure his little one was safe.
