“That’s not the way Jeremy described it. He talked about how fast the boat rode the waves, how the wind sounded like a song, and how the spray in his face made him feel alive.”
Sean’s words, actually Jeremy’s words, stole the breath from her chest. She remembered Jeremy saying the same things to her. She could still feel the breeze on her neck as his arms crept around her waist and his whispered words ran through her mind, ‘The wind is playing our song, Kate, listen.”
“I have to go,” Kate said quickly. Her sister seemed fine now, and she really didn’t want to continue this conversation with Sean. “Could you tell Ashley that I needed to get back to the bookstore?”
“You don’t have to run away, Kate. I’ll leave.”
“It’s not you.”
“Sure it is. You don’t like to talk about Jeremy. No one does.” A hint of pain flashed through his eyes. “My father hasn’t mentioned his name in years. Sometimes I catch my mother looking at a photo, but as soon as I come in, she hides it away. Maybe that’s why I can’t let my brother go.”
“It’s been a long time, Sean.”
“I know. Every year I think I’ll move on. But changing locations hasn’t helped. I’ve been in more cities than I can count in the last few years. The only place I haven’t gone is the middle of the ocean, the place where Jeremy died.”
“There aren’t any answers out there. There aren’t any answers anywhere.”
“I know it was an accident, a risk Jeremy was willing to take to do the one thing he loved most. I’ve heard it all, Kate. But, dammit, it still doesn’t make it easier.” He ran a hand through his hair in frustration. “I can’t let go. Believe me, I’ve tried.”
Kate wished she had an answer for him, and as she watched Sean’s gaze turn to Ashley, she realized that he hadn’t let go of Ashley either. There was a naked need on his face that made her ache for him.
“I’m sorry,” she murmured.
“You don’t have anything to apologize for. It’s my problem. I’ll deal with it.” He walked away with a brisk, impatient stride, as if he were sorry he’d stopped at all and wanted to get away as quickly as possible.
Ashley stepped back on to the dock and rejoined Kate. “I’m done,” she said, with a relieved sigh. “I did it.”
Kate smiled, happy to see how proud Ashley was of herself. She’d battled one demon and won. “I knew you could.”
“Was that Sean I saw?”
“Yeah.”
“He looked mad.”
“He is mad, and by that I mean crazy. Wanting to race in the Castleton, wanting to follow in Jeremy’s footsteps. His parents must be beside themselves. I hope he changes his mind. It’s not going to solve or change anything. It certainly won’t bring Jeremy back.” She paused, giving Ashley a thoughtful look. “He’s still in love with you, Ash.”
“No, he’s not,” Ashley said immediately. “He told me he has lots of girlfriends.”
“Yeah, that’s why he’s here alone and wanting to sail to the edge of the world.”
“We don’t even know each other anymore. Aside from last night’s short conversation, it’s been years since we talked, spent time together. It’s over. And I don’t want to talk about him.”
“Okay. I have to get to work, anyway.”
“Why now?” Ashley asked abruptly.
“Because I’ve been gone half the day.”
“Not work. I mean, why now, why is the reporter here? Why is Sean wanting to crew? Wanting to follow in Jeremy’s footsteps? What happened, Kate? Why is it all coming back now?”
She met her sister’s questioning gaze. “I wish I knew. Just when you think it’s safe to go back into the water …” she wisecracked.
“Hush. You know that movie gave me nightmares for weeks.”
“Not me. Out on the open sea, the sharks were only one of our worries.”
Kate was reminded of sharks a few hours later when Tyler walked into her bookstore just before closing time. He’d pulled a dark blue sweater over his polo shirt, which should have made him look casual and friendly. But the way he moved, the way he looked at her, reminded her of the sharks that had circled their boat from time to time. They’d come close, then disappear, then pop up again. You could never be truly sure they were gone. You could never be truly sure that they wouldn’t attack even if they weren’t provoked. She’d learned to respect the sharks as much as she’d respected the sea. She didn’t want to respect Tyler, but she had a feeling it would be even worse to underestimate him.
“I’m back,” Tyler said, a challenging glint in his eyes as he approached the counter.
“I figured you would be.” Kate fiddled with a stack of flyers. “So what do you want now?”
“The pleasure of your company.”
“Yeah, right. You have more questions.”
“A few.”
“Maybe I could find you something more interesting to write about than my family,” she suggested, searching her brain for an idea.
“Okay, shoot. What have you got?”
“Micky Davis said he saw a mermaid off the coast of Florida last year.”
“After how many drinks?” he challenged. “Nice try, but I don’t do alien stories.”
Kate thought for another moment. “The owner of the Sally McGee, that’s the racing yacht that came in third in our race, just got married for the sixth time, and, get this, the first wife, the third wife, and the sixth wife are all named Sally.”
Tyler grinned. “You just made that up.”
“I didn’t. I swear. He said Sally was a lucky name for him.”
“Not if he was married six times.”
She smiled back at him. “Good point.”
“Tell me about the storm,” he said abruptly.
She stiffened. “Last night’s storm? Well, I think we got about a half inch of rain.”
“You know what storm I mean, the one that almost sent your entire race fleet to the bottom of the sea.”
“Why do you want to know about that?”
“Because I do.”
“Well,” she thought for a moment. “It was terrifying. Huge waves, monster winds. I can’t describe it. It was like a freight train bearing down on us. But we battled, and we came through. There’s really nothing else to say.” Or, at least anything else she wanted to say.
“Did anyone get hurt?”
“Just bumps and bruises, that sort of thing.”
“What would you have done out there in the middle of the ocean if someone had been injured?”
“We had a good first aid kit. Dad knew the basics, or at least enough to keep anyone stable until port could be reached.”
“Quite a man, your father. And you, too. I’m still baffled as to how three young girls could handle a boat of that size. You’re not exactly built like an Amazon.”
“My sisters and I were good sailors. We learned to sail the same time we learned to walk. It was second nature to us. Some jobs required more strength than others, but we were extremely fit. My father insisted on fitness even when we were small children. Some kids got bedtime stories, but we got personal training -- sit-ups, push-ups, leg lifts, weights.”
“Sounds like a slave driver.”
“Well, he did tell us a few stories while we were working out.”
“Stories about what?”
“Sailing, of course. They were always tales that involved great courage, determination, physical, and mental strength. They were meant to inspire us. My father taught us how to use our minds and our bodies to make things happen that seemed impossible. And that’s exactly what we did when we raced, we accomplished the impossible.”
“Is that a note of admiration in your voice?”
She sighed, wishing she could say no. “I think it might be.”
Tyler studied her thoughtfully. “You and your father have a complicated relationship, don’t you?”
“That’s an understatement.”
“And no one in the family races anymore. I can’t help but wonder why.”
“We lived a lifetime in those eleven months, Tyler, not to mention the two years of sailing that came before the race. It was enough.”
“That’s the first time you’ve called me Tyler.” He tilted his head. “I think I like it. Makes it seem like we’re getting along.”
“Well, I wouldn’t get carried away unless I start calling you Ty.”
“I’ll keep that in mind. Now, how about some dinner?”
Kate immediately shook her head. It was hard enough to get through five minutes of conversation with him. She certainly couldn’t do dinner. “No.”
“Why not?”
“I don’t want to have dinner with you because, frankly, I don’t want to talk to you and find my innocent statements written up in some magazine in a few months.”
“We can go off the record.”
“I’m not stupid. There is no off the record with reporters, especially not a reporter who has interviewed Fidel Castro.”
Tyler grinned. “More research?”
“You’re not hard to find on the Internet. In fact, you’ve led a very busy life. You don’t seem to stay home much. Where is home, by the way?”
“Now, that’s the kind of question I’d be happy to answer over dinner.”
“I’m still not interested,” she said quickly.
“What if I tell you about my tattoo?”
“I don’t care about a tattoo.”
“It has a woman’s name on it.”
Kate’s eyes widened. She had to admit she was curious. “You actually did that? Tattooed a woman’s name on your body? I hope she’s still in your life?’
He shook his head. “A youthful mistake. I’ve made a few others, too. If you buy me a drink, I might tell you about them.”
“Buy you a drink? I don’t think so. You’re definitely paying.”
“Then we’re going to dinner?”
He sounded far too satisfied with the turn of the conversation. “A drink, that’s all,” she replied firmly.
“All right, I guess I can find someone else to have dinner with.” He paused. “Maybe I’ll ask Sean.”
Sean? How did he know Sean? Not that Sean was a secret or anything. But dammit all. She didn’t want Tyler talking about her family all over town. Nor did she want him talking to Sean’s parents about either of their sons.
“You don’t know Sean,” she said.
“I hear he and Ashley were childhood sweethearts. In fact, he was one of the first to greet her when she got off the boat. I saw a photograph of them.”
“If that’s the best you’ve got, I think your reputation as an investigative reporter is overrated.”
He laughed. “Point taken. Have pity on me and join me for dinner. I obviously need a face-to-face interview.”
“Fine, you win. We’ll have dinner, and for every question I have to answer about my personal life, you have to do the same.”
“Deal. I’ll show you my tattoo, you can show me …” His gaze traveled down her face to her chest.
“Nothing,” she interrupted, crossing her arms somewhat self-consciously. “I will be showing you nothing.”
His smile grew broader. “Too bad. So, what time can you go?”
“An hour. The Fisherman is very good. It’s at the end of Main Street. I can meet you there at six o’clock.” She waved her hand toward the door. “The sooner you go, the sooner I’ll be able to leave.”
He moved away from the counter, then paused. “Are you a woman that’s always punctual, early even or never punctual, always late?”
“Which would irritate you the most? Never mind. I know.”
“You don’t know.”
“I do,” she said with a laugh. “You’re type A -- intense, driven, ambitious, stubborn, and absolutely always on time. Never early, because you wouldn’t want to waste a second waiting, which means a woman who takes an hour in the bathroom would drive you nuts.”
“But you’re not that kind of woman,” he returned. “You’re the oldest child, the responsible one. You’re smart, determined, protective, and you hate to fail. Being late would seem like a failure to get somewhere on time. I’ll see you at six.”
She wished she could say he hadn’t gotten her right at all, but that would have been a lie.
Tyler smiled to himself as he walked away from the store. He felt good, invigorated, and it wasn’t the late afternoon breeze or the beautiful view of the harbor that made him feel alive; it was the woman he’d left behind. He couldn’t remember the last time a simple conversation had given him such a charge. He just hoped Kate showed up for dinner. While he might be making a mistake in liking her, he wouldn’t make the mistake of trusting her.
His cell phone rang, and he pulled it out of his pocket, not particularly happy to see his brother’s number. “Hey, what’s up?”
“That’s what I want to know. What’s going on?” Mark asked, impatience in his voice. “You said you’d call me today.”
“The day isn’t over yet.”
“I can’t stand the waiting. Just give me something, please.”
“Well, I met Ashley today,” Tyler replied. “She’s a very tense, uptight woman. And she carries around anti-anxiety medication in her purse. She also seems to have a fear of the water, which is odd, considering the sailing background.”
“That’s something, I guess,” Mark said, hope evident in his voice. “What about Kate?”
“I’m having dinner with her tonight. I wish I could move faster, but if I tip my hand, who knows what will happen?”
“I agree, but you can’t move too slowly, Tyler. I got an e-mail from George today. He received a letter from an attorney out of Seattle by the name of Steve Watson. Mr. Watson states quite clearly that he believes George handled a private adoption in Hawaii eight years ago and he has some questions about the way the matter was managed and the welfare of the child involved.”
“Damn. That was fast.”
“My thoughts exactly. He’s already found George. How long will it take him to find me and Amelia?”
“George won’t talk.”
“But someone else might. And I’m a single, disabled father without a job. Hell, a job is the least of my worries. I can’t even walk. But that doesn’t matter, because I’d cut off both legs before I’d give up my daughter. You’ve got to help us, Tyler. You’ve got to find out the truth. I need to know which of the McKenna sisters is Amelia’s mother.”
“I understand,” Tyler said in frustration. He just wished Mark hadn’t cut corners in the first place.
Mark and Susan hadn’t asked many questions when their lawyer, George Murphy, showed up with a baby girl eight years earlier. They’d been trying for a few years to adopt, and Amelia had looked like a gift from God; a gift they’d paid George Murphy very well for, Tyler thought cynically. If he’d known what his brother was up to, he would have told him to ask more questions, like why there was no signature from the birth mother giving up her rights to the child. The only reason they knew the baby belonged to one of the McKenna girls was because the baby had come with a locket, the name Nora McKenna engraved on the back, the picture inside matching the one he’d seen of Kate’s mother. Nora McKenna was definitely Amelia’s grandmother. Unfortunately, they still didn’t know which of the sisters was Amelia’s mother. Duncan had apparently given the baby to a doctor in Hawaii, who had been paid handsomely for his silence. The timing had coincided with the last stop in the race. One of the McKenna sisters had given birth to a baby during that race -- but, surprisingly, there was absolutely no record of that birth, no photographs of a pregnant girl onboard the boat, nothing.