Free Never Too Late by Robyn Carr Page A

back?” She opened the door and there stood Sam, squad car in the drive, Starbucks bag in his hand. She smiled and clicked off the phone. “Or you could come in and bring that coffee with you.”
    â€œIf you’re sure I’m not imposing.”
    â€œYou’re not. I know I don’t look very good. I haven’t even—”
    â€œYou look great,” he said, coming into the house.
    â€œYou knew where I lived? Where my dad lives?”
    â€œLittle things like that aren’t very difficult to find out. I hope you like iced latte.”
    â€œSam, you’re a very nice young man. Let’s go sit on the back patio. And don’t run.”
    He let her slowly lead the way and from just a pace behind her said, “No crutches. That’s a good sign, isn’t it?”
    â€œSteady as she goes. Right out here.”
    Sam stepped through the opened French doors onto the patio and whistled. The yard was lush and vine draped, a couple of chaise lounges beside a redwood table. There was a shallow, rock-filled stream that wound around the yard and opened into shallow pools in two different spots. A waterfall gurgled and at the far corner of the yard stood a ceramic birdbath and a gazebo.
    â€œClare, this is awesome!”
    â€œMy dad’s pride and joy. He says the climate and fertile valley get the credit, but he’s a master builder, and great with flowers. I’d take you out to the gazebo, but I’m afraid this is as far as I go today—I’m so sore. But go look around if you like.”
    â€œJust a glance,” he said, leaving her to sit on one of the lounge chairs while he stepped off the patio and took the rock path along the man-made brook. “There are fish in here!” he exclaimed.
    â€œYes,” she laughed. As he wandered back to where she sat, she said, “It’s a little paradise, isn’t it?”
    â€œI think it’s the most beautiful yard I’ve ever seen. Is your dad in landscaping or something?”
    â€œNo. He owns a hardware store on Granger.”
    â€œHe’s that McCarthy? I know George. Helluva nice guy.”
    â€œThat’s George. So, in all the weeks you’ve been kind enough to call and check on my progress, I haven’t learned much about you. What’s your story, Sam? Always wanted to be a cop?”
    He answered easily. “That was an accident, a fortuitous one. I needed a good job with decent benefits and they were testing. I wasn’t sure until I got into the academy. I have a daughter, Molly. My mom helps me raise her.”
    â€œSo you’re divorced?”
    â€œNo. Never married. I was going to college in Reno when my girlfriend got pregnant. Long story short, she wasn’t interested in marriage or in having a baby, for that matter. She’s from New Jersey and went home to her family and decided to have Molly adopted. That’s before we knew she was Molly. If she’d had the paperwork sent to me right away, I might have signed off—but some time passed and I brooded. I wasn’t ready tobe a father, that’s for sure, but I was less ready to have someone else raise my child.”
    â€œAnd how old is Molly?”
    â€œShe’s almost ten.”
    Shock settled over Clare’s features as she did the math.
    â€œThat’s right—I was all of eighteen. Nineteen when she was born. And I had to fight to get her.”
    â€œYour girlfriend’s family?”
    He sat at the end of a chaise, facing Clare but not reclining. “This is just for you, okay? I haven’t exactly explained this part to Molly. Can’t figure out how. Her mother and grandparents didn’t want to keep her, they wanted her adopted. Gone. Out of the picture.”
    â€œBut you got her.”
    â€œMy mother cashed in everything she had to help me fight a legal battle out of state, but yes, I’ve had her since she was two months old.” He pulled