Champion At Heart (Sequel of Breaking Ice)

Chapter Twelve

Brooklyn felt like her insides were being pulled out. Abilene had just been too excited to wait and as she ran towards her father, all she wanted to do was scream, or run away. Now she found herself in the uncomfortable position of explaining everything to the man in front of her daughter.

"Well, Abilene. It's nice to meet you," Marshall said with a sweet smile, the same one that faded when he raised his gaze towards her. She just stood there–still by the car door–frozen on the spot. Fear, guilt, shame. Not only had she insulted him, and practically his family, but she has been hiding an important part of the cowboy, who now wore a serious expression on his face.

He hated her, that was certain.

"Hello, Marshall," she greeted him, trying hard to smile, but failing to do so as Sophia walked forward, holding his arm while her eyes focused on the little girl.

"Hello, my name is Sophia. I am..."

"My aunt. I know. My mama told me so much about you," Abilene looked at Marshall once again. "And she told me about you, Daddy."

Marshall found himself starting to hyperventilate, and Sophia knew it was the time to intervene. "Why don't we go inside, Abilene? I have cold lemonade and cookies."

"More sweets? Yeah," she frowned. "But I wanted to meet my Daddy."

"You can meet him later, and talk to him more. Now, I think it's Mommy's turn to do so." Sophia held Abilene's hand, leading her away from what was sure to be a tense moment. Ignoring Brooklyn–after telling her to not call anymore, hurting her own feelings–she made her way with her niece towards the house, both of them disappearing through the wooden doors, leaving them alone.

Awkwardness quickly took place, and Brooklyn took a few steps forward, holding herself on the hood of the car, feeling uncomfortable, but hiding it with another faint smile.

"You look great," she said, hoping to break the ice on the silence that was killing her internally. "It's been a while since I've been here."

"You don't say," he replied with a scowl, turning his back to her, heading towards the barn. Marshall hoped she didn't follow. If she did, he would lose it altogether and give her a piece of his mind, or even take her in his arms and forget what happened while he kissed her senseless. Those were both things he wanted to avoid.

As soon as he walked into the cool shade of the barn, feeling like his world was falling apart once again, he leaned against a stall door, taking deep breaths, not letting himself lose control.

"My daughter?" he whispered incredulously to himself. "I have a daughter?"

He closed his eyes, imagining how he could have seen her grow. Her first steps, her first words, her first laugh. He had missed it all. And all because of the selfishness of one person.

"Marshall?" The small figure adorning the door made his heart skip a beat. Not daring to look at her-or more like not wanting to–he sighed.

"What are you doing here," he whispered. Brooklyn frowned, stepping closer to him, the woodsy scent from his perfume, mixed with the hay on the stable overtook her senses. If she got any closer, she would have no idea how he would react. Her own scent, apples and daisies did the same to him, and it had been something he had missed for so long.

But no, he couldn't fall for it. She had left him, and with her, their daughter.

Was she even his daughter? She must be, as she was the spitting image of himself at that age. The ebony hair, big blue eyes, and brave stance was all him.

"Excuse me?"

"What the hell are you doing here?" he shouted, making her wince in shock as she backed away from him, almost hitting the wall behind her. The bridles were close to falling to the floor as her hair got stuck in one of them. The horses neighed in surprise, feeling the tension between them, and they knew their owner was upset. Some of them showed their heads over their stalls, snorting curiously.

When Brooklyn couldn't find the words to answer that question–and trying to get out of the predicament she found herself in–she saw him slowly step away from the stall, his boots resounding on the concrete floor as he stalked towards her.

Wincing in discomfort as her hair was still being pulled by the bridle, Marshall leaned over, his hand on the wall–at her side–and stared straight into her eyes, looking for the truth.

"Tell me," he said as his voice turned soft, but his gaze was still hard.

"She wanted to meet you," Brooklyn replied. "Abilene, that is."

"My supposed daughter?"

"Your daughter, Marshall. And I'll be happy to take a DNA test..."

Marshall pulled back with another scowl, putting space between them. Seeing she was still stuck, he reached for her hair, his skin prickling as his hands touched the soft, silky strands.

He remembered her having short, blonde hair. Not, long, luscious and tempting long curls.

Shaking his head out of those thoughts, he helped untangle her, stepping away just as fast. A soft groan escaped his lips, the limp, which was the cause of the sound, not going unnoticed by her.

"Are you okay?" she asked, concerned.

"I'll be," he replied, backing away once again just as she tried to reach for him. "So, did you expect me to receive you with open arms?"

"I wasn't expecting much, Marshall. But Abilene was eager to meet you and I hoped you didn't hate me..."

The chuckle that escaped his lips was mocking her, knowing she was probably coming with excuses. "So, after you left me, you waited years to come back, only to let me know I have fathered a child. Then, you put her as an excuse to get close to me again after all that happened. Didn't you think I deserve to know at that time?"

"You pushed me away, telling me you wouldn't love me the way I wanted to."

"You're the one who told me I was just a vacation fling. A simple curiosity you needed to satisfy. I was nothing but a game to you."

"You were not!" Brooklyn finally shouted back. "I regret everything that I've said that night, and I might regret lots of things. But there's one thing I don't regret, and that was enjoying every single minute in that barn with you. Every hour and every day with you was just wonderful!"

They both found themselves in another awkward silence as Brooklyn fixed her hair, pulling her bandana off before running her hand through her strands, feeling uncomfortable.

Looking down at the piece of fabric in her hand, she said, "I am not here for me, or you. I am here for Abilene, because she wanted to meet her hero."

"Her hero? How can I be her hero after I ended up with a leg like this?" he pointed at his injured leg. "And for your information, you are here, so that makes things more complicated."

"I don't care if they get complicated. I am here for our daughter, and we are not going anywhere anytime soon."