Sharing Sunrise (20 page)

Rolph knew that.

He laughed sourly as he noticed the tremor in his hand, flipping through the Rolodex.

She’ll talk to me, he said silently, listening to all the international, trans-Pacific clicks and hums on the wire. He wondered vaguely if porpoises and whales had anything to do with those noises. Did undersea chatter ever filter into undersea cables?

He was so busy pondering that he was startled when Slim answered the phone, sounding as if he were in the next town, not the other side of the damn world.

“Hi,” he said. “This is Rolph McKenzie. Can you tell me how to get in touch with Marian?”

“Marian?” Slim sounded vague and unsure of whom he might mean. Oh, God, was he going to pretend she wasn’t there? Had she told Slim not to let him talk to her if he called?

“Yes, dammit, Marian,” he said impatiently. “You know, Marian Crane, the one who found your damn boat for you, the one you hired away from me last month. Marian,” he all but shouted, and heard the hysteria in his voice. Drawing a deep breath, he forced himself to calm down. “Sorry. I’d like to talk to her, Slim. Please.”

“She’s not here, son.”

“Dammit, Slim, don’t give me that! I know she asked you to say that, but this is important! I have to talk to her. Look, tell her I love her, tell her I want her to come back. Tell her I didn’t want her to leave.”

“Rolph, honestly, she is not here. We haven’t heard from her since that day we spoke to the two of you a couple of weeks ago. She’s left, has she? Look, maybe that means she’s on her way here. If I hear from her I’ll tell her you—”

Rolph heard no more. He’d hung up.

“Not there?” he said aloud to the room. “She never went there? Then where in the hell did she go?”

He picked up the phone and dialed again, this time from memory, but set it down again before the connection was made. This call he’d make in person.

“Good morning, Rolph. How nice to see you.” Thea Crane offered her papery cheek for a kiss. Rolph dutifully complied. “George and I are having breakfast the terrace. Won’t you join us?” Linking her arm through his, she led him across the tiled foyer to a pair of French doors. She ushered him out then moved gracefully toward the kitchen. He and George had just finished greeting one another and commenting on the long-lasting Indian Summer when Thea returned with a fresh place setting and several crusty rolls in a basket.

“And Marian?” Rolph asked, standing quickly and pulling out a chair for his hostess. “Will she be joining us, or is she sleeping in?”

George passed Rolph the basket of rolls, looking surprised. “Marian’s not here,” he said. “Unless she came after I went to bed last night. Did she dear?”

Thea shook her head, finished filling a coffee cup for Rolph and set insulated pot down. “No.” She smiled, and offered Rolph a bowl of raspberry jelly. “She stopped in briefly a couple of weeks ago, but we haven’t seen her since.”

“Haven’t you even heard from her?” Rolph demanded, tearing a roll in half and smearing butter on it.

“No, but then, why should we? She’s a big girl and has lived on her own for a long time. We don’t live in each other’s pockets, Rolph.”

“But she wouldn’t simply go away without telling you where she was. Aren’t you worried about her?” Rolph frowned. “She’s worried about you, you know,” he added accusingly, feeling anger rise up at their cavalier attitude. Dammit, Marian’s parents had always been like this, completely indifferent to the needs of their only child.

“Marian? Worried about us?” George shook his head. “Why would she be?”

“About Thea.” Rolph swung his angry gaze toward his hostess. “Listen to me! One of the reasons she wanted to work for me was so she could stay nearby because she was concerned for your health. So I know she wouldn’t have—”

“Oh, but that was months ago, dear,” Thea interrupted with a laugh. “I’m fine now, honestly, so there’d be no need for Marian to stay close to home.”

Yes, there is, he wanted to say. I’m the reason she should have stayed!

“She’s always been a free spirit,” said George, spreading jelly on his roll.

“Well, if you’re not concerned, I am,” said Rolph, shoving his chair back and getting to his feet. “She’s been out of touch for two weeks. Can’t you see it? That’s not like her!”

“But Rolph, of course it is,” said Thea, standing also, taking his arm. “Come along now, sit down again. You haven’t had a bit of breakfast. You mustn’t let Marian’s comings and goings upset you. And if you and she … well, if the two of you had something going, then I’m sorry if you’ve been hurt. Marian’s not always the most … thoughtful of girls. She’s never stuck to anything or anyone for long.”

He hated hearing what could have been his own words, from three months before, fed back to him. That assessment was, after all, three months out of date. Didn’t her own parents know that much about her? Hell, it was probably more out of date than that! Of course it was longer than that since she’d begun to act differently. It had simply taken them all too long to pay attention.

“Dammit,” he said, gently working his arm free from Thea’s hold, “that’s maybe the way she used to be, but she’s changed! Didn’t you notice it, either of you? She worked at that boutique of hers for nearly a year, made a success of it, and only let it go when you got sick, Thea, and needed her here with you. And she left this house when you were stronger, not because she wanted to move on, but because she wanted to give you two your privacy again. She’s thoughtful, she’s considerate, and when she sets her mind to a task she sticks with it as long as it remains necessary. She didn’t just up and go on a whim! She left because I’m the one who hurt her and I have to find her!”

“Rolph, I’m sorry, dear. I can’t help you.”

His anger subsided. “I have to see her, Thea. There are things I need to say to her.”

George stood and patted Rolph’s shoulder. “If we hear from her, son, we’ll be sure to tell her you said that.”

“Yeah. Right. Thanks, and I’m sorry for interrupting your breakfast. I guess I’ll go see my folks, since I’m out here anyway.”

His parents weren’t home, but Max, Jeanie and Freda were just finishing their breakfast while Christopher staggered around the kitchen, ricocheting off walls and furniture. All three adults looked up as he walked into the kitchen. None greeted him. Christopher bounced off his father’s leg and into Rolph’s.

Rolph scooped him up. “You’re going to have to do better at getting around than that, buddy, or we’ll turn you into a hockey player.”

“Coffee?” asked Freda, giving him a look that suggested she might put arsenic in it.

He ignored her sour expression. “Black and strong and plentiful,” he said, sitting on the chair his brother kicked away from the table with one foot. He bounced his nephew on his knee and stared at his brother and sister-in-law. Both stared back without any warmth he could detect. So they knew. And they blamed him. Well, why not? He blamed him too. Yet, somehow, their silent censure made him ache just a little bit more.

“All right. So I blew it. I want to fix it, dammit. Where is she?”

Max shrugged. “How should we know?”

Rolph appealed to his sister-in-law. “Jeanie, you know, don’t you?”

“Why do you care where she is?”

“Why do I care?” He watched Freda set his cup of coffee far enough toward the center of the table that the baby couldn’t reach it—almost far enough away that he couldn’t reach it. “I care where she is because I made a big mistake and I want to make it better. If I can.”

“What makes you so sure it was a mistake?” Max asked, holding out his own cup for Freda as she came back to the table with the pot. She filled his, her own, then put the pot back on the stove and sat down when Jeanie shook her head to the silent offer. All three adults focused their attention on Rolph. Sweat broke out on his brow. Was this what the Spanish Inquisition had felt like to those being quizzed? Thank God for Christopher, who stood on Rolph’s lap and patted his face. Patted? No. Hey, the kid was beating on him! He let him.

“It was a mistake because I told her to go without asking her if she wanted to. I simply assumed that she wanted to. Because I’d known all along that it would come to that in the end. Because that was what I expected of her. But I was wrong to expect it, wrong to make assumptions. She wasn’t drifting through her job with me, putting in time until something else captured her attention; she was there to learn, and she did learn, fast. She was there to do a job and she did it, even when it meant getting out of bed in the middle of a cold, rainy night to make decisions about a sinking boat. She gave it everything she had.”

He drew in a deep breath and met Jeanie’s eyes, tried to meet Max’s and couldn’t quite, but said anyway, “She gave me everything she had. And I didn’t recognize it as permanent because it didn’t come with a lot of pretty promises.”

“And if you knew where she was now,” Max said, “would you go to her and still hope to get those promises?”

Rolph looked up, this time meeting his brother’s gaze. “Yeah,” he said. “A guy can’t stop hoping. But if what she can give me is herself, even without guarantees, then that’s what I’ll accept, because she’s what I want.”

Max stood, fished deep in his pocket and pulled out a single key. He bounced it on his hand for a moment then tossed it to Rolph.

“Go for it,” he said.

Rolph smiled and set his nephew on the floor to practice staggering. “Thanks.” He turned for the door.

“Wait!” Jeanie ran to him and gave him a swift, powerful hug. Then, slipping three of the six golden bangles she wore from her wrist, she handed them to Rolph.

“Give those to Marian, with my love.”

Max shook his head. “Aw, Jeanie, for Pete’s sake—” he began, but she cut him off with a pair of fingers across his lips.

“Never mind,” she said. “You don’t have to believe in Grandma Margaret’s powers. I do. Sharon does. And I think Marian will after today. Go on,” she said to Rolph. “Hurry!”

“But—” He twirled the bangles around on one finger, staring at them, then shrugged and dropped them into his shirt pocket before doing what Jeanie had said. He hurried.

As he had all those months ago when he’d driven Jeanie here to confront Max in his mountaintop retreat, Rolph parked the truck out of sight of the cabin, not because he was afraid Marian might jump into a helicopter and fly away as Jeanie had feared Max would, but because he wanted to walk for a few minutes in order to calm himself, to get his thoughts together, to plan what he was going to say. Whatever it was, he knew, it was going to have to be good. He cast his mind back over all those romance novels he’d read in the secrecy of his boat, trying to remember the dialogue that had worked best under similar circumstances to this, when a guy had done wrong, had caused pain, and wanted to make amends.

There were so many different things he could say, so many different ways he could begin. And what he said after whatever beginning he chose, would depend entirely on what Marian said in response. Oh, God, he should have parked five miles away! He was never going to figure out what to say, or how to say it. Not in time.

In the end, when he stepped onto the covered porch and found her sitting on a chair, her feet on the railing, her nose in a book, he simply stepped up to her, took the book away, pulled her to her feet and said, “I love you. Please come home.” After that, it was easy.

Several hours later, Marian rolled over and sat up. It was dark in the loft bedroom and she stuck a match, lighting the lamp on the bedside table. “Where do you think you’re going?” asked Rolph, pulling her back down across his chest.

“I’m being unromantic again,” she said. “I’m starving!”

He laughed. “When aren’t you?” But he let her go. “What are you going to get?”

“Scrambled eggs,” she said, picking up his shirt and shaking it out. Three fine, golden hoops fell out of the pocket. Raising her brows, she picked them up from the thick, down comforter. “What are these for?”

Rolph took them from her hand and twirled them on his finger again, feeling a warmth in the metal that surprised him. “Jeanie sent them. She said something about her believing in Grandma Margaret, and her sister believing, and that you would too. Max pulled faces and rolled his eyes in that expression that we intelligent males use when we’re too smart to say ‘Women!’ out loud. What’s it all about?”

Marian shrugged and pulled his shirt on. When she stood, it covered her nearly to her knees. “I haven’t a clue. Shall I scramble some for you too?”

“You have toast crumbs,” Rolph said, after they’d set their plates on the floor. He bent to pick them up with the tip of his tongue. “Here, and here and … here.”

“Mmm,” Marian murmured. “And what about here?”

“Maybe just one or two … mmm, is right!”

“Rolph! My toast was nowhere near there!”

“Crumbs fall,” he said, and continued his search. “We wouldn’t want any escaping into the sheets.”

She had to agree and moments later, he looked up to find that indescribable expression on her face again, the one that filled him with more joy than he thought one man could possibly contain.

“I love you, Rolph McKenzie,” she whispered.

“I know,” he said. “I love you too.”

As he closed his eyes and kissed her, he heard a faint, musical tinkling, as if an unseen hand had brushed over a set of windchimes. “What was that?” he said, lifting his head.

“What was what?”

“I heard … something.”

“I didn’t hear a thing,” she murmured. “Rolph, come back. Kiss me.”

He did, loving her, adoring her, holding her close while she parted her legs and took him into her, enfolding him with her love.

“I love you, I love you,” she whispered, and as an echo of her words, he heard the chiming again, louder. Opening his eyes, he caught a glimpse of motion at the edge of his field of vision and looked quickly that way. No. It had been his imagination. Those bangles couldn’t possibly have been standing on edge, twirling on the bedside table, gleaming in the lamplight like laughing eyes.

“I’ll love you forever,” Marian promised, and the air was filled the clear, laughing tones of chimes dancing in the wind.