Before she could answer, a loud group of men entered the lounge, their voices high and filled with energy.
"Damn," Caroline muttered, looking past him. "Just what I need."
Tyler followed her gaze to the four men sitting down at a table near the door. "Friends of yours?”
"Kiwis," she said.
Tyler raised an eyebrow. "Are we talking fruit here?"
"New Zealanders."
"Ah. And we don't like Kiwis?"
"My father is an Aussie. There's a long-standing rivalry between Aussies and Kiwis in ocean racing," she explained, tensing even further as one of the men approached their table.
"Caroline," he said in a loud, boisterous voice. "Just the person I was looking for. Did you hear who's coming to town?"
"Do I care?"
"You should. Or at least your father should.”
"What are you talking about?"
"The Moon Dancer is a last-minute entry in the race. She should be here by Monday."
Tyler watched Caroline's face pale as the news registered. The Moon Dancer was the name of the McKennas' boat. Now it was back, apparently with a different owner. He didn't know the significance of this news, but it seemed to disturb Caroline.
"That's not possible," she said.
"Oh, but it is, and guess who bought it?" The man paused dramatically. "Good old K.C. Wales. I can't wait to see Duncan's face when he finds out his nemesis is coming to town on his boat."
"He won't care a bit."
The sailor laughed. "Yeah, sure. See you around.”
"That's your boat he was talking about, right?" Tyler asked as the man left.
"What?" Caroline sent him a blank look.
"Your boat. The Moon Dancer. The one you sailed around the world."
"Yes, it was our boat," Caroline said slowly. "I can't believe that K.C. bought it, or that he's bringing it here. My dad will go crazy when he sees her. Kate, too. And Ashley..." Caroline shook her head. "This is bad, very bad."
"Why?'
"A lot of memories. I should tell my father and my sisters." She started to get up, then sat back down in her seat. "I don't want to tell them."
"Why not?"
"Because it will hurt. I don't have the stomach for it."
He raised an eyebrow. "Three ear piercings, a tattoo on your shoulder, a naval ring, and you don't have the stomach for a little pain?”
"Not that kind of pain." She frowned at the mineral water in front of her. "I need a real drink."
"I'll get you one." He put up his hand to motion for the waiter.
"No. Wait, never mind," she said hurriedly. Tyler put down his hand.
"I'd rather eat instead. I wonder when our table will be ready."
"I can check."
"I'll do that. Is it under your name or an alias?"
"My name." He watched her walk away. She was careful not to go near the bar, but he did see her fling a somewhat desperate look in that direction. Was Caroline a drinker? She'd said she'd wanted a drink, but then changed her mind. And the waiter had seemed surprised she'd ordered a mineral water. Not that it meant anything, but her behavior was a bit off, he thought. As a reporter, he'd become very good at paying attention to the details. It wasn't what a subject said or did that was important but what they didn't say or didn't do.
With an alcoholic father, it was certainly possible that Caroline had her own problems with alcohol. He made a mental note to check it out. Mark would definitely want that information. Tyler raised his beer glass to his lips. He had a feeling things were about to get interesting.
* * *
Kate opened her door just before nine o'clock that night to find Caroline on the porch. It was a little surprising, since none of her family was prone to dropping in, to suddenly have Ashley in the kitchen making tea, Duncan in the living room sleeping it off, and Caroline on her doorstep looking guilty about something. "You talked to him, didn't you?"
"He didn't tell me his name right away," Caroline said defensively as she entered the hallway. "Where's Dad?"
"Can't you hear the snoring?"
Caroline peeked into the living room where their father lay sprawled on his back amid Kate's fluffy sofa cushions. "He looks tired. And his face is all red."
Kate followed her younger sister's gaze and saw exactly what Caroline saw and more, not just the weary lines, or the red face, but the thin translucent skin on his arms and hands, the lack of meat on his bones. Their father had always been big and stronger than most, but he was fading away like an old photograph, and she didn't know how to make it stop.
"We should do something for him," Caroline said, echoing Kate's thoughts.
"Like what?"
"I don't know, something. He looks pathetic. I don't like seeing him like this."
Duncan had always been Caroline's hero, even when he was at his most unheroic. Most of the time, Kate tried to protect Caroline from seeing moments such as these. Perhaps that had been a mistake. But she was so used to being the big sister she couldn't stop the nurturing instincts from kicking into gear.
"Come into the kitchen. Ashley brought over her chocolate cookies, and she's making tea."
"That sounds good. I'm still hungry."
"You mean he didn't buy you dinner?" Kate asked wryly as she followed Caroline down the hall and into the kitchen.
"Who didn't buy you dinner?" Ashley asked from the kitchen counter where she was pouring tea into a cup. "Hi, Caroline. Do you want some tea?"
"Just cookies." Caroline grabbed one off the plate on the counter and took a seat at the kitchen table. One bite brought a squeal of delight. "These are heaven. I swear, if you weren't a photographer, you could be a chef."
"All I can make are cookies and tea," Ashley said. "Not exactly chef material."
"Don't forget your famous blueberry pancakes or your turkey stuffing," Kate reminded Ashley. "You're always too humble."
"Makes a change from you," Caroline said.
Kate made a face at Caroline, who stuck her tongue out in response. They both burst out laughing. Kate was amazed how good the sound made her feel. It had been awhile since she'd had both her sisters together in one place.
Ashley handed Kate a cup of tea, then sat down at the table. "So who didn't buy you dinner, Caroline? It wasn't that strange man you were going to meet, was it?"
"You knew?" Kate asked in surprise. "You knew she was meeting Tyler Jamison, and you didn't stop her?"
"Tyler Jamison? The reporter you just told me about?" Ashley asked in confusion. "That's who Caroline met for dinner?"
"Exactly."
"But why?"
"I have no idea. I told her to stay away from him."
"Okay, both of you, breathe," Caroline said. "Yes, I met the reporter for dinner, and yes, I did eat, but as you know I can always eat more. Before you ask, I didn't tell him anything. So chill out. We have bigger fish to fry. The Moon Dancer was sold to K.C. Wales. He's planning to race her in the Castleton, then on to Hawaii. They should be here by Monday."
Ashley put a hand to her heart. "K.C. Wales? Oh, dear."
"Dad will freak." Caroline picked up another cookie. "You'll have to tell him, Kate."
"Why me?"
"You're the oldest, the most responsible, the most understanding."
"Since when?" Kate asked. "According to you, I'm bossy, opinionated, and critical."
"That, too," Caroline said. "But I'm Dad's baby, and you know he never takes anything I say seriously. And Ashley can't do it because... well, she just can't do it."
"I could do it," Ashley said defensively, then quickly added, "But it would come better from you, Kate. You always know the right thing to say."
Once again, both sisters looked to her for the answer to their problem. They'd played out this scene many times before—Caroline eating chocolate, Ashley biting her fingernails while she paced. As before, she wanted to say something reassuring. She wanted to give them the answers they were looking for, but words were diffi
cult to find.
Her mother would have known what to say. She'd understood each of them and had passed on special pieces of herself: sensitivity to Ashley, passion to Caroline, and loyalty to Kate. It was that loyalty they needed now. Kate had promised her mother that she would protect her sisters and look out for her father, and she'd do it now, just as she had done before.
"It's funny how life goes merrily along and then, boom, the past comes back and bites you in the butt," Caroline said.
"I wonder if the Moon Dancer still looks the same," Ashley said quietly. "I wonder if Mom's curtains are hanging in the master cabin."
"What I wonder is why K.C. bought the boat," Kate said. "He must know that Dad will hate him for it."
"I doubt he cares," Caroline replied. "He was always more interested in winning than in friendship."
"Not always." Kate shook her head, confused by the turn of events. K.C. had once been a family friend, then an enemy. What was he now?
"Did I tell you that Sean is back, too?" Ashley asked. "I saw him down at the docks. He says he's going to race in the Castleton. Now that I know the Moon Dancer is in the race, I have an even worse feeling about it. Look, I've got goose bumps," she said, extending her arms.
"You're too thin—that's why you have goose bumps," Caroline retorted. "And you knew Sean would come back again. His family is here."
"I know, but I'm not ready to deal with him.”
"You'll never be ready."
"Okay, let's put Sean aside for the moment," Kate cut in, knowing that Ashley and Caroline had never seen eye to eye on that subject. "What did you tell Tyler Jamison about us, Caroline?"
"I told him to leave us alone. But—"
Kate groaned. "Please don't let there be a but."
"He might be able to do us some good. Dad would love to be in the spotlight again. It would give him a reason to get up in the morning. It could turn his life around."
"It could turn his life upside down. Are you actually telling me you think that an article about us is a good idea?" Kate didn't give Caroline a chance to respond. "What do you think Dad will tell Tyler? What do you think he remembers about the race? About the storm? What do you think will come out when he's wasted out of his mind? It's crazy."
"She's right," Ashley said. "We can't let a reporter into our lives. There are too many people who could be affected, like Sean. I knew the wind would bring trouble. I just knew it."
"So did I," Kate agreed.
"Well, I didn't. I thought it was a grand wind and a great storm while it lasted," Caroline said. "You two have forgotten how to live. We used to be brave. We used to be adventurous. Kate, you used to climb to the top of the sail without any fear. Ashley, you used to dive to the bottom of the sea. What happened to us?"
"You know what happened," Kate said pointedly.
"I'm not sure I do, not really. We've never talked—"
"And we're not going to talk now," Kate interrupted. "We can't. There's too much at stake. We have lives to live, maybe not wild and adventurous, but good solid lives, the kind Mom wanted us to have."
"I want more than good and solid. And you should want more, too," Caroline muttered.
Maybe she did once in a while, Kate thought, not that she'd admit that to her baby sister. But Tyler Jamison's appearance in her bookstore had sent an unexpected burst of adrenaline through her bloodstream. And she'd enjoyed the heady rush far more than she should have.
"I wonder why this reporter came to town now?" Ashley mused. "It's not the tenth anniversary of the race. Why is he interested in us? It seems like he came out of nowhere for no reason. And who does he write for, anyway?"
"He's a freelancer, or so he said," Kate replied. "He told me that there is a lot of interest in sailboat racing, and because we don't fit the traditional mold of a racing syndicate, we're of even more interest to the general public. It makes some sense. I know short biographies are popular right now, but I still don't have a good feeling about this. My instincts tell me that he came looking for something in particular.”
"I agree," Caroline said. "The fact that he didn't tell me who he was, that he asked me out to dinner without revealing his identity, goes along with the idea that he's playing some sort of game. He's good at the game, too. He's very charming."
And attractive, Kate thought. But it didn't matter. Charm and good looks would not destroy her family. He'd have to come up with something more than that.
"If none of us talk, there won't be a story," she said decisively. "We have to stick together, protect one another, the way we used to do. Remember?" Kate walked over to the table and took each of her sister's hands in hers.
"We're not kids anymore," Caroline complained, but she still slipped her other hand into Ashley's completing the circle they'd always formed.
"All for one," Kate said.
"And one for all," Ashley and Caroline repeated. A reassuring squeeze went from hand to hand.
Their unity had gotten them past a lot of hardships. With any luck it would get them past one very persistent reporter.
* * *
It was past ten that night when Tyler finally picked up the phone to call his brother. He knew it wasn't too late to call. Mark had always been a night owl. Catch him in the morning, and he was a grumpy bear. But, after nine o'clock at night, he was ready to party—at least in the old days. Mark's life had changed drastically since the car accident a month earlier.
Tyler could still remember getting the call. He'd been in a hotel room in London covering a summit meeting. The phone had rung in the middle of the night and he'd known, even before he answered it, that bad news was coming. Those first words had stopped his heart: Your brother has been in an accident. You should come as soon as possible.
His immediate reaction had been a silent, desperate prayer: Please let him be all right. Then he'd asked about Mark's eight-year-old daughter, Amelia, and Mark's wife, Susan. Amelia had made it. Susan had died on the way to the hospital. And Mark was in surgery to save his life.
The time it took to get from London to San Antonio, Texas, had been the longest hours of Tyler's life. He'd made a million promises to God along the way, using every bargaining chip he could think of to plead for his brother's life. Amelia would need her father to help her get over the tragedy of her mother's death. Mark had to survive to take care of his child. And Tyler couldn't lose his brother. Not when they'd just begun to get close again. So he'd begged God for a miracle and promised he would do anything and everything he could to protect Mark and Amelia from any further pain. He would make himself responsible for them. He hadn't known then just how far that promise would take him.
"Hello?" Mark said, his voice corning over the phone.
"How's it going, little brother?" Tyler deliberately put a cheerful note in his voice, trying to sound casual, as if this was any other conversation they'd had over the years.
"Not so good," Mark replied, making no effort to aid in the pretense of normalcy.
"What's wrong?"
"What isn't wrong? Do you have any news? Shelly said you found the McKenna sisters. Did you talk to any of them?"
"Yes, I spoke to two of them—Kate, the oldest, and Caroline, the youngest. Kate runs a bookstore and appears to run the family, too. She's smart, responsible, wary, doesn't let her thoughts show. Caroline is a firecracker, impulsive, headstrong, wants to be taken seriously and doesn't like big sister calling the shots. I still have to track down Ashley."
"Did they tell you anything?"
"Not yet. They're not particularly interested in a follow-up story. In fact, they're more secretive than I expected. I also met their father, Duncan. He was bombed out of his mind. Kate was called to take care of him, and I got the feeling this was definitely not the first time. I think it's likely he has a drinking problem.”
"He's not important. I don't care about him. It's his daughters. One of them..." Mark's voice caught on a sob of emotion. "Amelia is all I have left. I promised Susan. She was dying, Tyle
r, and she knew it. I can still see the fear in her eyes. She was afraid, not for herself but for me and for Amelia."
"I know," Tyler said tightly. "You won't lose Amelia. Trust me."
"I do trust you. But it's a hell of a big problem even for you, big brother."
And he'd been a hell of a big brother, Tyler thought, as a shaft of pain ran through him. He'd missed a lot of years of his brother's life. "Go to sleep," he said gruffly. "I'll call you as soon as I know anything. And I won't give up. No matter what the McKenna sisters throw in my path.
Chapter Four
Kate stared at the blanket tossed haphazardly on the living room floor. Her father was gone. She'd planned on offering him a cup of coffee, some breakfast, and a stern warning not to speak to Tyler Jamison. But Duncan had already left. He'd always been one to get up with the sun, hangover or not. He was probably on his way to his boat or maybe to the Oyster Bar for a Bloody Mary.
As she picked up the blanket, she caught a whiff of her father's aftershave. The musky scent reminded her of childhood, the scent forever linked to her father, to childish hugs and Daddy's strong arms. He'd once been her hero, her protector, the man who stood taller than all the rest. She remembered sitting on the floor by his feet listening to him tell stories about his adventures. His words would sweep her away. She could smell the sea and feel the splash of the waves, and she would shiver with the imagined wind. She couldn't have stopped listening if she had tried, and she'd never tried, because having her father at home was always special. He was gone a lot in her early childhood, running fishing boats, charters, whatever he could do to make a living. His frequent absences had made his rare presence that much more special, a time to be treasured, as her mother often said.
Summer Reads Box Set: Volume 1 Page 5
