Miracle

by Danielle Steel

  “What was that for?” he asked, looking pleased. She had been a wonderful companion on the trip.

  “For taking me to see your baby,” she said, looking happy. “She's even more beautiful than I thought she'd be.” She had even seen samples of his bed and table linens, flatware, crystal, and china. Everything he had chosen for the boat was exquisite. She was far more spectacular than she would have been if she'd been completed by Bob Ramsay. Quinn's taste and eye were absolutely flawless.

  “Thank you for coming with me,” Quinn said graciously, as he settled down in his seat, content next to Maggie. He had enjoyed sharing the boat with her. He had never known another woman with an equal passion for sailboats. And even he had to admit, this one was special. There wasn't another boat like her. It meant a lot to him that Maggie understood that. Vol de Nuit was going to be a yacht that no one forgot once they'd seen her. He would have loved to share her with Jane, but in his heart of hearts, he knew that she would not have appreciated or enjoyed her as much as Maggie. Sailboats had never been Jane's passion. In fact, if she'd been alive, he knew he would never have bought her. Particularly after they lost Doug, Jane had wanted nothing to do with sailboats. But she hadn't liked them even before that. It was something one was either born with or wasn't. It was rarely an acquired passion. And as it was in Quinn's, Maggie's love for boats was in her bloodstream.

  They each selected movies to watch on their individual screens, and ordered dinner. They chatted quietly while they ate, about the details of the boat, and afterward, Maggie put her seat back and watched the movie till she fell asleep. Quinn looked over and saw her dozing next to him, and with a smile, he gently covered her with a blanket. It had been a whirlwind trip, and he'd accomplished a great deal, but more than that, he had come to know Maggie even better. Not just her love for boats, or understanding of the fine details of the project, what he had discovered was something far more important, and deeper. He had found the true generosity of her spirit, in being able to rejoice for him, and celebrate his accomplishment, knowing full well that the boat she'd seen was what would ultimately take him from her. She had faced her rival squarely, saluted and admired her, and was prepared to move away gracefully when he left her. It was the one thing Quinn had never found in any woman, not even Jane, and it was what made him realize now that he loved Maggie.

  10

  THE PLANE FROM PARIS ARRIVED IN SAN FRANCISCO slightly delayed, at one o'clock in the morning. Maggie had been asleep for most of the night, and was rested when Quinn woke her just before they landed. He had filled her customs card out for her, and handed it to her, as she smiled sleepily at him. She was sorry to be home again, and wished they had decided to spend a night in Paris. The trip seemed like a dream now. But she also knew that Quinn was busy. He had much to do before his move, and he wanted to close Jane's estate by September, which was no small project, and Maggie knew that. She followed Quinn's timetable, and was just glad he had taken her to see his sailboat.

  They went through customs rapidly at that hour, and took a cab to the city. They were halfway there when he looked at her. They had no reason to go home that night, and suddenly he didn't want to. He liked sleeping next to her, and he was still reluctant to spend a night with her in either of their houses. His own still felt like Jane's house, and he realized it would until he left it.

  “Would you like to sleep on the Molly B tonight?” he asked with a smile as he put an arm around her, and she nodded. She hadn't wanted to sleep alone that night either. She was growing accustomed to him, and missed him on the nights they didn't spend together. But she also knew that she would have to get used to it eventually. No matter how much she loved sleeping with him, and being with him, and making love with him, he would be gone soon.

  “I'd love it,” she said happily. She knew she would forever remember the months they were spending on the Molly B together.

  “We can take a sail in the morning. I don't have to meet my attorney till four-thirty.”

  The boat was locked up tight when they arrived, but Quinn had the key for the doors and the alarm. The crew were on board, but they were undoubtedly sleeping. The first mate was on watch as they came in, and he carried their bags to Quinn's cabin, and offered them something to eat, but neither of them was hungry.

  They both took showers and went to bed, and as soon as they did, Maggie nestled close to him, and he put an arm around her.

  “Thank you for a wonderful trip,” she whispered to him. “I think you and Vol de Nuit are going to be very happy with each other.”

  He wanted to tell her then how much her generosity of spirit meant to him, but for some reason, he didn't. He didn't know what to say to her. He knew now that he was in love with her, but it didn't change anything for him, and he didn't want to foster false hopes or illusions. He was afraid if he told her how he felt, she would think that he might stay, or return for her, and he knew he couldn't. He felt he owed it to Jane somehow to be alone, to venture on with his solitary travels. After all he had done, and failed to do in his life, he knew he did not deserve to spend the rest of his life with Maggie. She was young enough to find someone else, have a wholesome life, and forget him.

  And he had never said it to her, but it concerned him that he was twenty years older than she was. She was young enough to be his daughter, which seemed ridiculous to him. He never felt their age difference, but he had had his life, his children, his career, his marriage, and now he felt he had to atone for his sins. Indulging himself with a woman two-thirds his age, and dragging her around the world with him seemed as selfish as what he had done to Jane, and the egocentric life he had led, for which Alex could not forgive him. He knew he was doing the right thing in setting Maggie free when he left, and promising her nothing. If anything, he was going to urge her to forget him. His mind was full of thoughts of her, his heart eased with the warmth of her next to him, but he said nothing to her.

  He was already up and dressed when she awoke the next morning. They had left the dock at eight o'clock, and the Molly B was already sailing. It was a bright June day, and as Maggie got up, it was odd to realize that she had woken up in Amsterdam the previous morning. She smiled to herself, thinking of it, like a delicious dream, and went to join Quinn on deck in her robe and nightgown.

  “Good lord, what time is it? Where am I?” she asked as she squinted at him in the sunshine. Her tousled hair cascaded down her back, just the way he liked it. She looked scarcely older than his daughter, and wasn't. There were only eight years between Maggie and Alex, but Maggie seemed an entire generation older. She had suffered a great deal in her lifetime, particularly in recent years, which made her seem far more mature, and a great deal wiser, and more compassionate certainly, than his daughter.

  “It's ten o'clock. This is San Francisco Bay, you'll notice the Golden Gate straight ahead, and I'm Quinn Thompson,” he teased her.

  “Hello. I'm Maggie Dartman.” She played the game with him. “Didn't I meet you in Amsterdam? You're the owner of that fabulous yacht, Vol de Nuit.… or was I dreaming?” It all seemed like a dream now, but it wasn't.

  “You must have been dreaming,” he assured her. The stewardess asked Maggie what she'd like for breakfast, and Maggie smiled at how spoiled she was getting. She turned to Quinn with a grin. “To think, I used to eat Hostess Twinkies and leftover hot dogs for breakfast.”

  “Don't ever invite me over for breakfast. I'll stick to dinner.” He grinned at her.

  “Good decision,” she said, as the stewardess handed her a cappuccino just the way she liked it. The crew of the Molly B were terrific. It was going to be tough getting used to real life again, when Quinn was gone. Because of the man, not the breakfast.

  Quinn had already begun hiring his crew for Vol de Nuit. One was Italian, two were French, and the other seven crew members were British. He had hired John Barclay's captain from the Victory, after a letter he had received from him in April, asking if there might be a position for him. He had been fol
lowing Vol de Nuit's progress with interest. Quinn had offered him the job as captain by return fax, and followed it up with a phone call. The man's name was Sean Mackenzie, and he was arriving in Amsterdam with the rest of the crew just before the sea trials in September. They were on schedule so far.

  Maggie sat next to Quinn at the helm of the Molly B for the rest of the afternoon, and they got back to the dock at three o'clock, in time for Quinn to meet with his attorney. And before they left the boat, they agreed to spend the night on her again that evening. Both the boat and the man were becoming a dangerous habit for Maggie. The more time she spent with him, the harder it would be to see him leave in the beginning of October. He was coming back to San Francisco one last time after the sea trials, and then, she knew, it would be over. But she wouldn't allow herself to think of it, she had promised him that when he left, she would let him go without a murmur, and she had every intention of keeping her promise, no matter how hard for her, or how painful his absence. He was a gift that had come into her life unexpectedly, and when the gift was taken from her, as she knew it would be, she was going to be both gracious and graceful about it. It was all Quinn had ever asked of her, and she owed him that, or felt she did. It seemed to be her destiny to lose those she loved, to let them leave her life, no matter how costly to her.

  “Are you all right?” Quinn asked her quietly, as one of the crew members drove them home, and she nodded. “You're very quiet.” He had sensed something in her silence, and he wasn't wrong, but she had no intention of sharing her thoughts with him about his departure.

  “Just jet-lagged,” she said, smiling. “How about you?”

  “I'm fine.” He was still ecstatic over his visit to Vol de Nuit, and invigorated by it. “I wish I didn't have to meet with the attorney. I should be home by seven.” They had left their bags on the boat, so she had nothing to unpack, and little to do until he came back to get her. Her life was very simple now, although she knew it would be busier once she went back to teaching in September. She was going back to work around the same time he left for the sea trials.

  Jack was at the house when Quinn walked in, just finishing some work in the kitchen, and when he saw Quinn, he looked mournful.

  “Something wrong?” Quinn asked with a worried frown, and Jack shook his head. He looked awful.

  “I just finished.”

  “Finished what?” Quinn asked, looking for his briefcase with the legal folders in it.

  “Everything,” Jack said, and Quinn stopped and looked at him.

  “Everything?” They had dragged it out as long as they could. He had been there for six months, and not only was the house impeccable in every detail, but he had become a proficient reader.

  “It's all done,” Jack confirmed. “We did it.”

  “No,” Quinn said with a slow smile, as he looked at the man who had become his friend, and to whom he had become not only teacher, but mentor. “You did it. And don't you forget that.” He walked across the room toward him and shook his hand. “We're going to have to celebrate.” And Quinn meant it.

  “Can I still come to dinner on Friday evenings?” He couldn't even imagine not seeing Quinn daily.

  “I have a better idea. Let's talk about it in the morning. Why don't you come by for breakfast?” And then he remembered that he was going to be on the boat with Maggie. And he wanted to spend the day sailing. “I just realized I won't be here. Why don't you come for dinner on the boat on Friday night?” Jack knew where the boat was docked at the yacht club.

  “Could I bring Michelle with me?” The girl he had been dating for a while had become a serious romance for him, and they were inseparable, but Quinn was hoping she was only a passing fancy. He had an important proposition to make him.

  “Of course.” And then Quinn thought of something. “Does she know about our special project?” Quinn didn't want to embarrass him in case she didn't.

  “You mean my reading?” Quinn nodded. “I just told her. I was afraid she'd think less of me, but she thought it was terrific.”

  “I like her already.” Quinn had not yet met her, but knew now that he would on Friday.

  “How was Amsterdam?”

  “Impeccable. Everything is going along at full speed. The boat looks splendid.” And then as an afterthought, between the two men, “I took Maggie with me.”

  “I thought that might be where she was. She's been gone all week. I wasn't sure though.” The two men exchanged a long look, and Jack's eyes held a single silent question, and Quinn understood him.

  He shook his head. “No. Nothing's changed. She understands. She knows I'm leaving.”

  Jack sighed as he looked at him. He had learned a lot from Quinn in the past six months, but now he thought it was Quinn who needed to learn the lesson. “Someone like that doesn't come into your life every day, Quinn…. Whatever you do, don't lose her.”

  “I never had her,” Quinn said quietly. “Just as she doesn't have me. People never ‘have.’ each other.” Jane had never had him, never, or at least not until after she died. And he had only found her after he lost her. He was fully prepared to give up what he had found with Maggie, and take the best of her with him, in the memories he would have of her. He didn't need more than that. He was convinced of it. “I'm too old to be romantic,” Quinn said as though trying to convince himself, “or to be tied to the skirts of a woman. She understands that.”

  “I think you're throwing away something precious,” Jack said doggedly, and Maggie would have been profoundly touched if she'd heard him.

  “I'm going to give it back, Jack. That's different.” Jack shook his head as Quinn picked up his briefcase and smiled at him. “See you on Friday.” It was in two days, and Quinn was looking forward to it. He had no intention of giving up their Fridays, and wondered if Jack would want to bring Michelle with him every week, or keep it a threesome. Although Quinn was willing to welcome her into the group, he also loved the intimacy of the three friends, and was leaving it up to Jack.

  “Think about what I said,” Jack called after him, as Quinn ignored him and closed the door firmly behind him.

  11

  MICHELLE AND JACK APPEARED ON THE DOCK PROMPTLY at seven o'clock on Friday, and Maggie and Quinn were ready for them. The crew offered them champagne, and there were balloons and lanterns hanging on the afterdeck. It looked like a party. Quinn and Maggie had put the decorations up themselves. They had said nothing to Jack, but it was his graduation. Quinn had gotten a diploma for him and filled it out carefully with his name and the date, and had referred to him as a successful scholar. It took Jack only a moment to realize what was happening, and he was moved to tears when, at the end of dinner, Quinn handed him his diploma. Maggie had had a chance to chat with Michelle by then and was pleased to find that she liked her.

  And as Quinn handed Jack the diploma he'd written out for him, the two men's eyes misted over. Quinn shook his hand, and put the other on his shoulder, and his eyes filled as he hugged him.

  “Well done, my friend… well done….” Jack was so touched he couldn't even bring himself to answer. He just nodded. No one had ever been as kind to him in his life, except Maggie. The two of them had become precious friends to him, and he knew he would never forget Quinn for the horizons he had opened. His life had been changed forever. Michelle sat watching them silently, and kissed Jack when he sat down next to her again. She was in awe of both Quinn and Maggie. She seemed very young to them. She was only twenty-four, but it was obvious that she was deeply in love with Jack, and admired him greatly.

  After another round of champagne, Quinn invited Jack to walk around the deck with him, while the two women chatted. Maggie felt as though she was talking to a daughter. Michelle had just finished nursing school, and she thought Jack was her dream come true.

  Jack followed Quinn up to the upper deck, and they sat looking at the stars quietly for a long moment. Quinn had been wanting to talk to Jack for some time now.

  “I have an idea I wan
ted to share with you,” Quinn began as he lit a cigar, and sat looking at the brightly lit ash for a moment. “Maybe more of a proposition, and I hope you'll accept it.” It sounded important to Jack, and was, or would be, to both of them, if he agreed to do it. Quinn was counting on him, it was the greatest gift he could give him. “I've just hired the crew and the captain for the new boat. They're all coming on board in September for the sea trials, and what I was going to ask you…or offer you… was that I was hoping you would join us.”

  “For the sea trials?” In spite of himself, Jack looked startled, and Quinn laughed, it was a long, low, contented rumble.

  “No, my friend. As a member of Vol de Nuit's crew. You could come on board as an apprentice. And if you learn to sail as fast as you've learned everything else, you'll be the captain before it's all over.”

  “Are you serious? About joining the crew, I mean?” For an instant, he wanted to pack his bags and run away with his beloved mentor, and then reality hit him, and he looked disappointed.

  “You can do it. I know you can.” Quinn had misread what he'd seen and thought he was frightened. “It will be the experience of a lifetime.”

  “I know it will,” Jack said quietly, “or would. But I can't, Quinn.”

  “Why not?” Quinn looked shocked, and more than a little disappointed. He had expected Jack to think about it, and at least be tempted to do it. He was, but Quinn had changed Jack's life in more ways than he realized. Perhaps even more than he had intended.

  “I'm going to college. I just got into State. I'm in a pre-architectural program. I was going to tell you tonight. And I forgot, I got so excited by my diploma. I've got a long road ahead of me. I want to be an architect one day. I could never even have thought about it without you. And I'm starting pretty late in the day. I can't take a year off to sail around the world with you, but damn, I'd have loved it.” He said it with genuine emotion.

  “I knew I shouldn't have taught you to read,” Quinn said vehemently with a rueful grin, torn between pride and disappointment. He had really wanted Jack to come with him. As much as he knew it wasn't right to take Maggie with him, he would have loved to take Jack under his wing and turn him into a sailor. But he was nonetheless impressed by what he was doing. Jack had never even told him he'd applied to college.