Family

by Karen Kingsbury

  Dayne could feel Katy unwinding next to him.

  After a twenty-minute drive north along the coast, he retrieved a slip of paper from his pocket and followed the directions into a private enclave of waterfront homes. Dayne made a series of quick turns, then pulled into the driveway of a small, two-story Cape Cod, one that stood off to itself.

  “Joe’s a genius.” Dayne peered out the windshield at the place, then gazed down the beach. The neighborhood was made up of only seven homes, and in the pink light from the sunset he could see no one out or about.

  Katy looked at the house and then at him. “This is Joe’s?”

  “No.” He chuckled. “He has a friend who vacations here in the summer.” He checked the street in both directions. “I guess most of these houses are only used part-time. Otherwise it’s pretty deserted.”

  “So—” she sounded excited and nervous at the same time—“we can hang out here?”

  “I think I’ll stay here, actually. I have my things in the back of the car. Joe set it all up.”

  A small laugh came from her throat. “And me?”

  He grinned. “Don’t worry. I’ll take you back whenever you want to go.” He rolled down the window and killed the engine. For a few seconds he breathed deep, letting the ocean air fill his lungs. “A beach home with no paparazzi. Maybe we’ve died and gone to heaven.”

  This time her giggle sounded more natural. “You have the keys?”

  Dayne pulled them from his pocket. “The keys, the security code . . . Joe even had a caterer come in and stock the place. We could avoid the press here for days before anyone would find us.”

  Katy’s expression looked doubtful. But her eyes told him she was too excited to be worried. “Let’s take a look.”

  “Okay.” He glanced at the sky. “I want to get down to the beach while there’s still a little sunset left.”

  They took their bags, walked up the steps to the front door and into the house. The place was as quaint inside as it was outside. There was a great room with soft gray leather sofas and an alpaca rug. At one end of the room was a fireplace, and the wall that faced the ocean was all windows. The kitchen was small, with a nook and a table barely big enough for two. Neither of them walked down the hallway toward what must’ve been bedrooms.

  Dayne set the keys and the directions on the kitchen counter and opened the patio door. Fresh air rushed in through the screen.

  “This is amazing.” Katy stood at one of the floor-to-ceiling windows and stared at the ocean. “I can’t imagine having this view every day.”

  “It’s strange.” Dayne was a few feet away, his eyes caught by the same sight. “I have this view, but I’m so busy running from photographers, darting in and out of my house, that I hardly ever get to do this. Just stand at my window and enjoy it.”

  She slipped her hands into the pockets of her loose-fitting shorts. “A view like this makes me remember one of my favorite Scriptures.”

  Dayne liked the feeling of being with her, loved the direction things were headed. No matter what Katy might’ve thought at first, he didn’t bring her here for any reason other than to talk, to share a little more of his heart with her—the only person he wanted to share it with. He leaned his shoulder into the window. “What’s the verse?”

  “I can’t remember exactly.” Her eyes narrowed, studying the shoreline. “The point of it is, because of the things God created, people are without excuse when it comes to believing in Him. If we tell ourselves there is no God, we lie to ourselves. His creation is proof that He exists.”

  “I read that the other day.” He felt his heart swell. “It’s so true.” He held his hand out to her. “Come on. Take a walk with me.”

  She smiled and there it was again. The shy look that made him want to take her in his arms and protect her, keep her from any worldly harm or trouble all the days of her life.

  She put her hand in his, and they went out the patio door and down a short flight of worn, wooden steps. Once they reached the sand, they kicked off their shoes and headed toward the water.

  The sun was just dropping below the horizon, but the pinks and pale blues were still slow-dancing across the changing sky. Gentle sounds came from the surf. Dayne surveyed the area. The beach was part of an inlet. The waves were much milder than they were at Malibu Beach. A trio of seagulls rang out in the distance, taking turns diving at the water for fish. Otherwise the beach was empty.

  They walked slowly, and Dayne felt his senses being filled by the moment. “Proof of God, for sure.”

  “Yes.” She stayed close to him, and once in a while her shoulder would touch his arm.

  He forced himself to focus. The walk, the sunset, the feel of Katy close at his side—all of it was like Christmas morning. But he had more than idle chatter to share with her tonight. They were twenty yards down the beach, still on the warm sand, when he stopped. “Sit by me.”

  “Here?” She looked around, anxious. Every time they’d been together, they’d had to worry about whether they’d be caught on camera. Clearly she was still concerned about who might see them if they sat out in the open. “Are you sure?”

  “Yes.” He lowered himself. “No one knows we’re here, Katy.” He patted the spot beside him. “We’re safe.”

  She sat down and faced the water. “I didn’t think we’d find this, not after how insane things have been.”

  “Me either.” He looked at the fading colors in the sky. “But remember?” A cool breeze washed up from the shore. “I asked God that no matter how out of control life seemed this week, He would help us keep our eyes on Him.”

  She smiled. “And here we are.”

  “Exactly.” He took hold of her hand again. He had something serious to tell her, another step, a way of opening his entire heart, his whole life to the woman who had captured him from the first time he saw her. “Katy—” he turned just enough so he could see her face—“I want to talk about Luke Baxter.”

  She lowered her brow. “I was going to ask you.” She searched his face. “Earlier when the two of you were talking I had the strangest feeling, like you were close friends.” She thought a moment. “There were other times too. Your eyes would change when someone brought up Luke’s name.”

  Dayne drew a long breath. He had no doubts about telling her, no concerns. He trusted her completely. “There’s something I need to tell you, something I’ve wanted to tell you for a long time.”

  Fear toyed with the corners of her eyes but only for a moment. “About Luke Baxter?”

  “Yes.” Now that he’d started he could hardly wait to finish. “I told you that I met my birth father a few weeks ago.”

  “Right.” Katy’s throat sounded dry. She tucked her feet beneath her and kept her eyes on him.

  “So, the part I’ve never told anyone is this.” He tightened his hold on her hand. “My birth father is John Baxter. Bloomington’s John Baxter.”

  Katy’s eyes grew wide, and her lips parted. “Ashley’s dad?”

  “Luke’s dad too.”

  “So Luke’s your . . .”

  “My brother.” Dayne shrugged. “Yes. I’ve known for almost two years.”

  Darkness was falling over the beach, but he could still see the shock in her expression. “You haven’t told him?”

  “Katy . . .” He allowed a single, sad-sounding laugh. “Luke doesn’t know his parents gave a baby up for adoption.”

  She did a quiet gasp and covered her face with her fingers. For a few seconds she only sat that way, but then she lowered her hand. “So, who knows? And how did you find them—the Baxters?”

  The story was long and complicated, but they had all night. Dayne squinted as the memories lined up in order. “I guess it all started in New York City when I was on location. I had to stop by my attorney’s office. That’s where I saw Luke for the first time.”

  “Out of the blue, you mean? A total coincidence?”

  “Right. Luke was clerking there between classes at law sc
hool.”

  “And what . . . you noticed a resemblance?”

  “Not exactly.” The story began to spill out, and for the next half hour Dayne tried to remember every detail. He told her about the photo on Luke’s desk, how strangely familiar it had seemed, and how for the first time in years he’d considered the fact that he’d been adopted.

  “I kept a photo of my biological mother in a storage unit.” The stars were poking through the dark sky now, but the moon was full enough that they still had light around them. He faced the surf, and the feelings returned, the way they’d been when he first compared the photographs of Elizabeth. “It was the same woman in both pictures, and I knew immediately that Luke was my brother. I hired a private investigator, and in no time I had the details. Including the saddest one of all.”

  A dawning came over Katy’s face. “Ashley’s mother.”

  “Right.” He sat up straighter and drew a slow breath. “Elizabeth Baxter was dying. I had to hurry to Bloomington if I was going to have the chance to ever meet her.”

  Katy slid a little closer to him, caught up in the story.

  He explained that he’d arrived at the hospital in time to see the entire Baxter family walking through the parking lot. “There they were—the sort of family I’d longed for all my life. A father and brother and sisters, nieces and nephews. I didn’t know if they knew about me, but I was ready to meet them, anyway. I opened the door of my rental car, and that’s when I heard it.” He let his gaze shift to the crashing surf. “The click of cameras.”

  A groan came from Katy, and she let her head fall on his shoulder. “Dayne . . . no.”

  “Yes.” He stroked her hair and waited. His throat was thick, the memory sad and vivid.

  She lifted her head. “You stayed in your car?”

  “I had to.” He sniffed hard through his nose, ordering his emotions to even out. “This life—” he gave a sarcastic chuckle—“hiding from the paparazzi, working like a CIA agent just to find a night alone.” He shook his head. “I couldn’t expose the Baxters to this. Every tabloid in the country would have a field day with them.” He drew his hand across the night sky. “Think of the headline: ‘Dayne Matthews’ Biological Family Found in Bloomington!’”

  The reality of the situation was setting in for Katy. She sighed. “Oh, Dayne, I’m so sorry.”

  “The Baxters are great people, but they’ve got secrets like anyone else. My investigator found out a lot, and if he could find it, the paparazzi would too.”

  “So what happened that day at the hospital?”

  Sorrow tightened its hold on Dayne’s heart once more. “I watched them walk past and drive away. I had no choice. When they were gone, I went in to see Elizabeth.”

  “So you found her?” Hope sang in Katy’s tone. “I couldn’t imagine you going all the way there and missing that.”

  “It was amazing.” He let the time fall away, and he was there again, walking into Elizabeth’s hospital room and meeting her for the first and only time. “She told me she loved me and that she never wanted to give me up.”

  Tears shone in Katy’s eyes. “It’s so sad, that someone would’ve forced her to let go of you.”

  “I know.” Dayne’s voice was quieter, barely audible over the sound of the surf. But the story spilled out, every detail, all the things he and Elizabeth had discussed. “She told me I needed to find God, that faith was the most important thing I could ever have.” He smiled. “She said she’d been praying for me my whole life.”

  “Wow.” Katy rubbed her hands over her arms. “That gives me chills.”

  The beach was still completely empty. Dayne lifted his chin and savored how good it felt, sitting here next to Katy, alone without fear of cameramen. If only the night could last forever.

  They were quiet for a few minutes, and Dayne slipped his arm around her shoulders. “I guess Elizabeth tried to tell John about meeting me, but he thought she was delusional from the cancer drugs. After she died he decided to find me as a way of fulfilling her dying wish.”

  “Sounds like one of your movies.” There was awe in Katy’s voice. “I mean, who could imagine this?”

  “I know.”

  “Wait!” She pulled back and studied him. “That’s why you were in Bloomington. The first time I saw you at the theater that night. You told me you were doing research.”

  “I was.” A grin tugged at the corners of his lips. “Just not for a movie.”

  She pressed her palm to her forehead. “It’s all coming together. I can’t believe it.”

  He took her hand. “There’s a little more.” The story was almost finished. He told her about John’s efforts to reach him and how his agent had spoken for him, telling John that Dayne wasn’t interested, and how John made one final attempt to contact him by writing to him at the studio. “I thank God all the time that John’s letter finally reached me.”

  “So where did you meet?”

  “At a park in Bloomington. I was in and out of town on the same day.”

  Again she looked like her mind was spinning. “So what now?”

  This was the hard part. “John and I have been talking. He thinks my siblings would want to know me, even if it means being subject to attention from the press.”

  “I just thought of something.”

  He stifled a chuckle. The story really was amazing. It took more than once through to understand all the implications. “What?”

  Katy stared at him. “You gave Ashley a ride home that night. From the theater.”

  “Right. The whole time I knew she was my sister.”

  “Dayne . . .” She closed her eyes for a moment. “That’s horrible. I mean, being so close and not being able to say anything.”

  “Now you know a little of what I’ve been going through.” He stood and dusted the sand off his shorts. “It’s getting cool. Let’s walk back.”

  She stood and they took their time walking up the beach. He put his arm around her waist, and she did the same to him. Their steps fell together in a rhythm that made him feel almost a part of her.

  “You need to meet them.” Katy sounded hopeful, as if the possibilities were just dawning on her. “They’re a wonderful family.”

  “I know.” His eyes were watery, more from the images in his heart than from the cool breeze in his face. “But sometimes I still think I’d be better to let it go. I’ve gone this long without being part of the Baxters, and they’ve gone this long not knowing about me. Who does it really help if we make the situation public? Once the Baxters lose their privacy, there’s no way they’ll get it back. Everything they do from that point on will be subject to scrutiny.”

  They walked in silence the rest of the way, and after a few minutes they were in front of the beach house.

  Dayne stopped, the sand damp beneath his feet, and faced her. “I had to tell you, Katy.” He touched her face, her cheekbone. “I don’t want any secrets between us.”

  The shy look was back. “Thank you. For trusting me.”

  He’d been so busy with his story, he’d avoided the obvious. How badly he wanted to take her in his arms and kiss her, tell her how he was feeling and beg her never to leave. “So—” he smiled—“that’s why Luke looks like me.”

  “Yeah.” There was still wonderment in her expression. “It all finally makes sense.” She looked out to sea, then back at him. “You know what I was thinking while we were walking?”

  “What?” He could smell her perfume. Mixed with the sea air and her closeness it cracked his resolve. His feelings for her filled him, and he drew her a little closer.

  But she was distracted, caught up in some sort of realization. Her face told him that much. “If the Baxters hadn’t been forced to give you away, you would’ve grown up in Bloomington.” She looked deep into his eyes to the most private part of him. “Maybe we would’ve met at the theater, and you would’ve been a regular guy, an insurance salesman or a banker.”

  “Who painted sets on the weekend
for Christian Kids Theater.”

  “Exactly.” A sudden sadness hung between them. “Maybe by now . . .”

  “We would’ve met and fallen in love.” He linked his hands around her waist. “And maybe we’d be married with a houseful of babies.”

  “Instead of hiding on a beach, stealing a few hours alone.” She let her forehead fall against his chest. “It’s almost more than I can imagine.”

  He understood her feelings. He’d let his mind go the same direction dozens of times since realizing the truth about his birth family. What if he’d been raised a Baxter? What if he’d spent his life growing up in Bloomington, running around in the same circles as his brother and sisters, meeting Katy Hart the way any normal guy might’ve met her?

  After a while he crooked his finger and put it beneath her chin. His intention was to tell her how he felt about her, that it didn’t matter if they’d met on these terms, and that somehow they’d find a way around his fame so they could have whatever they might’ve had if things had been different. But the moment his eyes met hers, he was unable to keep from acting on the desires that were all but consuming him. “Katy . . .”

  She seemed to know what was coming. Her hand came up alongside his face, and in a pull that was stronger than anything Dayne had ever known, their lips came together. The kiss was sweet and sad and strong enough to set him on fire.

  As an actor, Dayne had kissed dozens of women, creating for the big screen an image of love or lust that was intended to enrapture the audience. But kissing Katy was so different. Every other kiss he’d ever done seemed mechanical and make-believe compared with the feelings he had here, now, his toes in the sand and Katy Hart in his arms.

  She eased back first, her breathing quick and uneven. “Dayne . . . I need to get back to the hotel.”

  His heart thudded inside his chest, and her words seemed to take a moment to reach his brain. But then he nodded. “I know.” He started to pull away, but he couldn’t. Never mind that the day before he hadn’t wanted to kiss her. They might not have another chance like this for days or weeks. Months even. The following week he was set to start filming his next picture.