He recognized her.

“How old is she?” he asked, his voice hoarse.

“She turned four in early May.” Erin stared at him. “Are you all right?”

He shook his head. “Not really.” He continued to stare at the picture, memorizing it.

“I guess this is sort of a shock.”

He glanced at her and forced himself to give her a smile. “That’s an understatement.” He returned his attention to the photo. “I never knew about her.” He’d never sensed her presence in the world. That didn’t seem possible. His child had existed for over four years, and he hadn’t had a clue.

“I’m sorry,” Erin said. “I would have come sooner, but as I already told you, Stacey never told me who you were. When she passed away, I asked a friend to pack up her room at home. All these years I never thought to check her personal papers.” She shook her head. “I should have. I only found out about you recently because I was packing up to move and I finally went through her things. I found her diary and in it she mentioned your name.”

He wondered what else she’d mentioned, then figured it wasn’t important. The past was over. All that mattered was the child.

“Where is Christie now?” he asked. Christie. The name was unfamiliar on his tongue, but he liked it. Had Stacey had the chance to name her daughter before she died or had Erin chosen the name.

“At our motel. We’re staying in town.”

He frowned. “You left her alone?”

“No.” Erin smiled. “I drove up with a friend. Joyce is watching her.”

He supposed she’d come for money. Child support. A college fund. He opened his mouth to say all that would be arranged. He wouldn’t ignore his responsibilities. Instead he blurted out, “I want to meet her.”