Rocky Point Reunion (8 page)

“Hey, man, we can hire help for your brother. So far we haven't found a replacement behind the wheel for you! We haven't even finished in the money since you left.”

Zack leaned against the counter. It might be a long call. “I'm dropping out, Thomas, you know that.”

“Hey, man, you know that Jacques's death hit everyone hard. But it was a fluke, a freak accident. You've been racing ten years, you've never even come close to buying it. We need you, man. Tell me what it'll take to get you back. A bigger percentage? Different machine? What? The end of the circuit's around the corner. You're needed, buddy. Here, not in some forgotten corner of Maine.”

“It's not a question of money or car. I'm done. That's all.”

“It's not, Zack. I need you, man. The team needs you, man. And your contract states you'll be here.”

No racer did the job solo. There were sponsors, pit crews, publicity people, managers. Quite a few people made their livelihoods supporting a racing team. And his team was the best. But there were two other drivers for the team, and a slot now for a newcomer.

“Stockholm's coming up, Zack. You know you always ace that course. No one has come close to your last record there. Tell you what, I'll see about upping the percentage of the take if you race that one course. Just Stockholm, man. You can do it in your sleep. Say you'll do it, then we'll talk again.”

Zack wavered. Stockholm was a tough course. He'd been the winner three years running, last time by a healthy margin. For a moment he thought about Jacques. His friend had challenged him before that last race to meet in Stockholm to see who was the faster. Would Jacques have raced the course if Zack had been killed?

“I'll think about it,” he said. Obligations, responsibilities, duty—all had been instilled in him by his parents. Did he have the right now to throw others under the bus so he could get what he wanted?

“Great. You'll need to be here in a couple of weeks. The latest car tests show the engine on the T is superefficient and the torque ratio is amazing. It's the fastest machine we've ever had. You need to get familiar with it. I'll send the tickets.”

“Hold on. I said I'd think about it, not that it's a done deal.” The dilemma was ironic. Leave them in the lurch as he had Marcie, or stand by his word as he had not done with her. Yet she was more important than anyone else in his life. Could he leave her behind again, even for a short time?

“Okay, okay, okay, I'll hold off on the tickets for now, but let me know the answer soon, man. You have to do this.”

 

When Zack hung up, he didn't move for a few minutes. The old enthusiasm for racing flared. He loved the intense concentration, the smooth working between man and machine. The triumph when he excelled. The cars he drove were masterpieces and could be coaxed to maximum performance by the right skills, which he had.

One more time—for Jacques?

Or was it for him?

One more race, and a challenging one at that, and then hang it up for good. It meant being gone from Rocky Point for a couple of weeks. He didn't need that much practice. He knew that course, he just needed to get to know his new car.

And a bigger percentage would mean an added influx of money. Not that he needed it. He was comfortably well-off. Investments paid nicely. But an extra chunk of change never hurt—especially for his plans to use it if he won.

He'd do it. But he'd wait a day or two before calling Thomas back. Who knew what incentives the man might offer if he waited.

 

After dinner that night when the expected phone call from Joe came, Zack let Jenny answer it. He had pulled up the information on the Stockholm race and was reviewing the course, mentally remembering all the banks and turns. Focusing on the course, blocking all else from his mind.

“Daddy wants to talk to you,” Jenny said a short time later.

“Zack,” Joe said when he got on the line. “We've hit a snag.”

“With what?”

“Gillian's car broke down when we were ready to leave this morning. Being Sunday, nothing's open, so we have to wait until tomorrow before we'll know what's wrong and how long it'll take to fix. This place is even smaller than Rocky Point, so no telling if the local garage will have any parts needed or the expertise to repair.”

“So, what's happening in the meantime?” Zack asked.

“We went to the largest church in town this morning. It was a pretty building, all stone and wood. The people were friendly and the sermon really gave good guidelines for a righteous life. It was after church—we started to leave and only made it seven miles before the car totally died. I've looked at it and am not sure what's exactly wrong with it, but I think it's the fuel pump. I could change it in a heartbeat if I had the tools and the part. But it's old and foreign to boot. Who knows if the local garage stocks the parts.”

“Take your time. You don't have a deadline to be home. Once you're on the road again, you can still follow your original plans for seeing the sights.”

“I wasn't sure of your timetable,” Joe said.

Zack almost told him about the Stockholm race, but held off. For now he needed for Joe to know he was committed to settling back in Rocky Point and could be counted on to watch Jenny.

“I'm not going anywhere. Jenny and I are doing fine. Did you tell her?”

“No. We might be home when planned if we can get it repaired tomorrow.”

“I'll tell her. You and Gillian enjoy your trip, take your time, I'm not going anywhere.”

For now.

M
arcie glanced at her watch. It was almost nine in the morning. Zack Kincaid would be waltzing into the café as if he owned it about now. Her two waitresses would vie for who served his table. And she'd watch the clock until ten when he'd finally leave. If this was his work ethic, show up late, leave early to get Jenny, she worried for Joe's business. How could they keep up with the demand if one of the partners didn't pull his weight?

That was unfair. She knew from the past both Kincaid men were focused when it came to work. And reliable. Well, in business, anyway. She sighed. She had to stop thinking like that. Zack was a fine, honorable man who had just chosen a different life from the one they'd planned all those years ago. She didn't agree with his choice, or the way he handled it, but that didn't make him anything less than human. People did stupid things—especially when young.

She wished she'd seen the signs back then. But even searching her memory, she could find no clues she'd missed. He'd hidden his feelings so well she'd never suspected.

“Hi, boss. Zack wants to see you,” April said from the doorway.

She did not want to see him. It had been three days since she'd caught a glimpse of him leaving church. She was hoping for a full week without being tempted with the sight of Zack Kincaid. Just thinking about him had anticipation spiking, however. Was it too much to wish it would go away?

“Thanks. I'll go out in a minute.” Once she had her emotions firmly in check. Taking a deep breath, she smoothed her hair and rose, hoping she could keep this brief.

She spotted him immediately. He was already eating when she stepped from her office into the café. His dark hair had grown a little since he'd been back. She remembered he'd always worn it long when they'd been dating—mostly to get a rise out of his father, as she recalled. Or maybe because she'd once said she liked it longer.

He saw her and smiled, rising as she approached the table. When both were seated, she looked at him, her heart pounding. Frowning at her body's betrayal, she asked what he wanted.

“A favor. A big one, actually.” He put down his fork and looked at her. His dark eyes held a beseeching look. She almost said, “Sure,” but caution raised its head.

“What kind of favor?”

“You would have said yes in the past.”

“I was younger then. What is it?”

“Kimberly has had Jenny over almost every day. The two girls are inseparable. I really appreciate her helping me out that way. I work, pick her up later and don't have to shirk my job or my babysitting responsibilities.”

Marcie nodded. “You had to come here to tell me that?”

“No. Jenny asked if we could have Sally Anne over
to barbecue on the beach at the foot of the bluff. I'm out of my element dealing with one seven-year-old—I can't manage two. If you'd help out, I'd really appreciate it.

“I'm thinking Friday night, to give Sally Anne's parents an evening to enjoy together, just the two of them. I'd have Sally Anne home by nine. Unless you have a date planned already.”

Marcie studied him for a long moment. Was this his way of finding out if she was dating anyone special? Or anyone at all? She was tempted to say she was too booked up to even think of helping out. However, there were no plans. She'd loved spending time on that sandy strip of beach when she was a teenager. She'd even been there several times since Joe's wife died, helping him with Jenny, enjoying a quick swim when she could bear to be in the cold water.

He didn't say anything further, just held her gaze locked with his.

What was the harm? She could enjoy time with the little girls, enjoy the beach. Enjoy being with Zack again? a small voice whispered.

“Okay. What time Friday?”

“I'll pick the girls up around four. I can swing by and pick you up, as well.”

She hesitated.

“It's not like it's a date or anything,” he said, clarifying things perfectly. “We'll have two little girls with us constantly. Well, until I take Sally Anne home, then it'll just be one seven-year-old. She's a sweet kid, but sometimes I wonder how to keep up.”

“Okay, I'll see you on Friday.” When she started to rise, Zack reached out his hand.

“Joe and Gillian have run into problems. Her car died on Sunday and they're still in a small Illinois town awaiting a
part. He's frustrated because the local garage won't let him work on her car, and he insists he could fix it in a heartbeat with the right tools. The old man who owns the garage won't hear of it and there's no automotive shop in town to buy the tools, or the part. She drives some foreign car and the man only stocks parts for the most popular American-made cars.”

“So what are they going to do?”

“The part's been ordered. As soon as it arrives, it'll be installed and they'll start up again. In the meantime, they're marking time. Can't be driving all around in the rental moving van. Joe says the town gives him an entirely new perspective on Rocky Point.”

Marcie laughed. “I bet he's frustrated. Gillian's probably charmed to bits.”

“Something like that. Have you known her long?”

“No. Sophie Parkerson died a few months ago. Gillian was her sole heir and showed up the day of the funeral. I met her then. No one even knew Sophie had a great-granddaughter to leave the house to. But we've become good friends. She's a wonderful woman and adores Joe and Jenny. I think she's great for them both.”

He nodded, looking pensive.

“And she's happy to live here in Rocky Point, which Pamela wasn't,” Marcie continued softly, referring to Joe's first wife.

“So I'm not the only one who's seen the bright lights and can appreciate small-town living,” he said.

“We'll see.” She rose and smiled politely. “See you Friday. Pick me up at my apartment, please—I'll leave here a bit early.” She was helping out more as a favor to Jenny than to Zack. And she didn't want rumors to start if people saw her with Zack again.

She marched back to her office, proud of the way she
refused to turn around to see him one last time when the kitchen doors swung closed behind her. Then she smiled in delight. She'd spend time with Jenny and her uncle and see what more she could learn about the man whom she'd once thought she understood.

And loved dearly.

 

Friday seemed to drag by for Marcie. She arrived early at work to make sure everything was covered. They were well into June now and tourists were becoming a major part of her business on the weekends. The weather for the next few days was expected to be clear and warm. Another boon to encourage tourism.

She had briefed her manager before returning home early to shower, change and be ready when Zack and Jenny picked her up. Having a few minutes to spare, she called her father. No answer. She left a quick message, wondering where he was. If he'd gone fishing today, he would have stopped before now. The best time was morning, he always said.

Promptly at four came a knock on her door. When Marcie opened it Jenny bounded in and gave her a hug. “I'm so glad you're coming. Sally Anne and I have been planning this forever. It'll be so much fun. Uncle Zack bought hot dogs and we'll cook them on a fire on the beach. He said he and Daddy used to do that all the time when they were kids.”

Marcie smiled. Memories rose of the evenings she'd shared with the Kincaids, and the campfires in the cove beneath their home. The surrounding rock seemed to reflect the heat and they were able to stay out far longer than usual in the cool Maine nights.

Taking a deep breath, Marcie grabbed her jacket and purse and the bag of brownies she was bringing to the
feast. She was ready. She was merely chaperoning two young girls. But when she saw Zack leaning against the truck, arms folded across his chest, feet crossed at the ankle, she almost tripped off the steps. He looked amazing, all broad shoulders and masculine stance. His dark eyes watched her, bringing a self-consciousness that unnerved her. Thankfully, Jenny said something about going to pick up Sally Anne at that moment and broke her focus.

“Hi,” she said when she reached the truck, her thoughts in a jumble.

“Hi, yourself. Ready? We have to get Sally Anne.” He opened the door and tilted the seat forward so Jenny could scramble into the jump seat in the back, then pushed the seat back so Marcie could get in. She brushed past him and climbed in, keeping busy settling herself and pulling on her seat belt so she wouldn't look at him. Okay, this had been a mistake. She was so very aware of every move he made. How would she last the evening?

She should not have worried. Once Sally Anne joined them, the two girls kept a running conversation, including both adults as they jumped from one topic to another.

When they reached the Kincaid house, the girls dashed to the edge of the bluff and waited impatiently for Zack and Marcie.

“This isn't exactly Disneyland,” he murmured as they walked across the grassy expanse.

“But enough out of the ordinary to bring excitement. Jenny told me Joe's never had a fire on the beach. She thinks this is amazing.”

“What's amazing to me is that he hasn't. We did it all the time, it seems like.” Zack remembered his mom and dad directing everything, letting the boys do the work. Marcie had been part of their beach picnics more times than not those last few years before his parents died. At
the time, he'd taken it for granted. Now the memories were bittersweet. Great to have, sad to know he'd never share with his parents again.

“But not at Jenny's age, I bet. Until Gillian came, Joe was very overprotective of his daughter. She's only now allowed to do things other girls have been allowed to do for a while. Doesn't it make you feel special to be the one to introduce her to the joys of cooking hot dogs on the beach?”

He nodded. “Being with her makes me feel special. She sees me as some lost hero.”

“Lost?”

“She told me she and her father prayed for me to find my way home, so to her that made me lost.”

“So she knows God answers prayers.”

“Does He?” Zack asked softly.

Before Marcie could answer, they reached the girls.

“I want to go down first, Uncle Zack,” Jenny said, dancing around at the top of the steep stairs that led to the beach.

“Okay, but only if you hold the handrail and go slowly. Sally Anne can follow you and Marcie and I will be right behind you both.”

As Marcie descended, she looked at the familiar sheltered beach. It wasn't large, as beaches around this area of the coast went. Sheltered by the rocky bluff that seemed to hold it in open arms, it had limited use, primarily by the Kincaids and their friends. Sophie Parkerson had shared the beach when she was young, but in her last years the steep steps had proved to be too much for her. Gillian had enjoyed the beach a bit since she'd arrived, but it would get the most use during the warm summer months.

She saw that Zack had already laid the wood for a fire, encircled by weathered stones that his parents had carted
from the base of the bluff decades ago. The larger ones were to sit on or lean against. The circle of smaller ones were to contain the fire.

There was a cooler nearby, which she suspected held dinner.

Had he missed this when he'd been gone? The carrying on of traditional events? The familiar routines that had been a part of his youth? Had he established new ones in Europe?

“Can we go wading?” Jenny asked, standing near the high-water mark on the sand.

“As long as you don't get your shorts or shirts wet,” Zack said with a smile.

With squeals of joy, the two little girls took off their sandals and raced to the edge of the spent wave. Dancing on the packed sand, having the water splash over their feet, seemed to be the height of delight.

“Want to go wading?” Zack asked.

“Sure. Let me put down the brownies.”

“I remember you baking a lot when we were teenagers,” he said, walking with her to the fire pit.

“These aren't mine. The sisters made them—I just asked for an extra batch today when they were baking. I don't do much cooking anymore.” It didn't seem necessary when she had delicious food prepared for her. And she didn't like to cook for only one. Her meals at home were primarily breakfast foods. Since moving out of her dad's home, she rarely baked anymore.

As the afternoon moved into evening, Marcie realized she was enjoying herself as she hadn't in a long time. The girls kept her laughing. Zack told them stories of some countries he'd visited, and they all hung on his words. Paris came alive; the hectic traffic of Rome had them asking if he raced in the streets. When he spoke of the fjords of
Scandinavia, the girls likened them to Rocky Point. When he made light of an act of kindness, she remembered all the more why she'd loved him all those years ago. He had been wild and exciting, but also a kind kid. He'd often done things for Sophie, she recalled. He and Joe had cut her lawn, kept her car in running order. For them it had been fun fiddling with an old car. Marcie knew Sophie had been grateful. Once he'd told her that he considered Sophie a kind of grandmother. Did he know how much his helping her had pleased Sophie?

The hot dogs were a huge success, as was the fire. When they toasted marshmallows on sticks, Jenny declared it the best day ever.

It was growing dark when Zack suggested they head up to the house.

“I don't want to go yet,” Jenny said, marshmallow smeared on one cheek.

“I have to lug all this stuff back up—I don't want to do it in total darkness,” Zack said.

“We can help,” Sally Anne offered.

“How about Zack takes the cooler up and we'll bring the rest,” Marcie countered. “And we'll let him go up first and wait until it's almost dark before we go up the stairs.”

“Okay,” Jenny said. “You can wait for us at the top, Uncle Zack. I know, go get a flashlight from the kitchen, then we can come up with that.”