Summer Reads Box Set: Volume 1

by Freethy, Barbara

  "I'm not sure. Maybe if I race with him..." Her voice drifted away.

  "He'll like you better? Is that what you were going to say?" she challenged, seeing the truth in her sister's eyes. "Dad loves you, Caroline. I don't know where you got the idea that he doesn't. You're his baby, his princess."

  "I'm the one who disappoints him the most. It's okay, Kate. I get it. I've gotten it for a long time. What you don't get is that we can't outrun the past. It's catching up. Every day it's getting closer. Don't you feel it?"

  Kate did feel it. Even now she had goose bumps running down her arms. "We set our course a long time ago. We have to stick with it. No uncharted waters, remember?"

  "Dad will race no matter what we say.”

  "We have to try to talk him out of it, Caroline."

  "Fine. If you want me to go with you to talk to him, I will."

  "Thank you."

  For a moment they sat in quiet, looking out at the boats. Then Kate felt Caroline stiffen next to her. "What?" she asked.

  Caroline pointed to the water below. "There she is.”

  Kate squinted against the bright sunlight. Sure enough, there was the familiar bright blue sail with a white dove soaring toward the sky. "The Moon Dancer," she breathed. "K.C. can't be using the same sails, the same colors. He can't be."

  "They wouldn't be in good enough condition," Caroline agreed. "Unless he had them copied."

  "Why would he do that? Mom designed those sails. She was so proud of them being one of a kind."

  "I don't know why he's doing anything. I'm the younger one, remember? Usually the last to know. And I never had much contact with K.C. when we were kids, just his annoying son.”

  "You didn't like David?"

  "Hell, no. He was an annoying, irritating asshole most of the time."

  "I don't remember him being around much."

  "That's because you were older. I was the one who got stuck with him when he came to visit. He didn't like us. He was jealous of his dad spending time with us. I remember one time when K.C. brought you one of those snow globes. David was so pissed off he tried to break it when you weren't looking. But I stopped him. So you can thank me now."

  "Why didn't you tell me then?" Kate asked curiously.

  "I don't remember why. Probably because I wasn't supposed to be in your room."

  Kate thought about Caroline's words. They certainly painted David as a person with a grudge—a big enough grudge to make up a lie about K.C. being her real father? Or had he wanted to break her snow globe because even then he'd sensed she was more important to his father than he was? She did not want to believe that was true, but she couldn't stop wondering now that David had put the thought into her head.

  "Don't you miss it just a little?" Caroline waved her hand toward the Moon Dancer streaking proudly across the water. "We should be on that boat. She's ours. She doesn't belong with K.C. and his nasty little son."

  Kate had to admit it was difficult to watch their boat under someone else's hands. Especially someone who had made their life difficult during their very long race around the world.

  Caroline turned to her with the same gleam in her eye that their father had had, and Kate felt every muscle in her body tighten.

  "Don't say it," Kate warned. But Caroline wasn't listening.

  "I think we should do it, Kate. We should help Dad win her back."

  * * *

  Tyler climbed on board the small boat that several people had mentioned belonged to Duncan McKenna. "Hello," he called, hoping he was in the right place. The boat swayed slightly beneath him. It was an odd feeling. He couldn't remember the last time he'd been on the water. His life for the past few years had been airplanes, fast cars, and maybe a train or two in Europe. Boats were foreign to him. Especially sailboats.

  He couldn't imagine waiting for the wind to change before you could move. He needed control, a good solid engine that could take him where he wanted to go, wind or no wind.

  "Hello, there," he called again. He jogged down the stairs and peered into the empty cabin. The interior was small, with an unmade bunk in one corner, newspapers, magazines, and clothes strewn about. The air was filled with the smell of cigarettes and booze, but there was no sign of Duncan McKenna. Damn. He'd hoped Duncan was still sleeping off what surely must have been a hangover from the night before.

  Walking back up the stairs to the deck, he looked around, noting the numerous empty boat slips. Apparently there was some sort of a race going on today.

  He sighed, wondering what to do next. He'd already learned a few more details about the McKenna sisters by spending some time at the local bars and cafes. The McKennas were hometown heroes, and people loved to talk about them. He'd heard that Ashley had suffered a collapse several months after returning home from the race, stress and malnutrition, allegedly. But combine that collapse with the anti-anxiety medication he'd seen in her purse, and he could probably make a case for some type of mental breakdown. And then there was Caroline, who'd been picked up a few times for underage drinking and seemed to be a frequent visitor to the bar scene, along with her father.

  Which brought him to Duncan, the one who had set the private adoption into motion.

  If only Mark had done things the right way, they wouldn't be in this mess now. But Mark and his wife Susan had been desperate for a child, having tried for several years, and they just hadn't wanted to wait a second longer. When the opportunity had presented itself, they'd put a second mortgage on their house and bought themselves a birth certificate and an instant family.

  It wasn't completely legal, but, then again, they hadn't stolen the baby. She'd been given up willingly, according to everyone involved. Unfortunately, there were no letters or signed documents to support that assumption. Everything had been done as anonymously as possible. Duncan hadn't wanted anyone to know about the baby. And Mark and Susan hadn't dared to ask any questions that would prevent the child from becoming theirs. For eight years it had all gone smoothly, until three weeks ago when it became clear that one of the McKenna sisters had hired herself an attorney to find her long lost baby.

  He wondered now what had triggered that move. What had happened three weeks ago? Maybe that's where he should be looking, instead of so far in the past.

  Tyler turned his head as he heard a man singing about beer, broads, and a good boat. It was Duncan—Duncan and a friend. Duncan had one arm flung around the other guy's shoulders, and they staggered slightly as they came down the docks. Two old salts, Tyler thought, for surely there was no better description for the weather-beaten, sunburned men who lived to sail and sailed to live.

  "And she's all mine," Duncan wailed.

  "All mine," the other man harmonized in an off-key, drunken voice.

  Duncan stopped abruptly when he saw Tyler on his boat. "Well, now, who's come to visit but my favorite reporter. Pete, have you met Taylor?"

  "Tyler," he corrected.

  Duncan pointed to him. "That's right, Tyler. I remember. I bet you think I'm drunk, don't you? Now, Pete here, he's drunk, aren't you, Pete?"

  The other man could have been forty or sixty, it was impossible to tell, but he was definitely not sober.

  "Pete is my neighbor," Duncan said, dragging Pete down the dock toward the boat next to his. "Help me get him onboard, would you?"

  Tyler hopped onto the dock and helped get Pete onto his boat and down the stairs to a cabin very similar to Duncan's. Tyler couldn't help wondering how many good old boys were living on sailboats in the harbor.

  "You okay, Pete?" Duncan asked. Pete rolled over on his bunk with a snore. "He's okay."

  "What about you?" Tyler asked, as he followed Duncan back up the stairs. He was relieved to see that Duncan walked a straight line fairly easily.

  "I'm just dandy," Duncan said, hopping off the boat with a spry step. "I ran into Pete on my way back from a meeting. Couldn't let him wander down here on his own. He's a sad case these days. Lost his wife a few months back and hasn't been the same
since."

  "I guess you know how that feels."

  "That I do, son, that I do," Duncan said with a sigh. "When my Nora died, she about took me with her. I didn't think I could bear to see the sun come up without her by my side."

  Tyler was touched by the depth of emotion in Duncan's voice. He sounded very much like a man who had loved his wife deeply—a faithful, loving husband. But had Nora been a faithful, loving wife? "What was she like?" he asked. "Your wife, Nora."

  Duncan lifted his face to the sun. "Close your eyes," he said.

  "What?"

  "Close your eyes," Duncan repeated.

  Tyler hesitated, then closed his eyes, wondering what was supposed to happen.

  "Feel the heat on your face?" Duncan asked.

  Now that he mentioned it, yes. "Sure." There was a warmth on his skin, a light behind his lids, the scent of summer in his nostrils. His senses were heightened with his eyes closed.

  "That's what she did for me," Duncan murmured. "She made me feel everything more intensely than I'd ever felt it before."

  Tyler opened his eyes and saw Duncan wipe a tear from his cheek, a dramatic, emotional gesture for a crusty, tough old man but a seemingly genuine one. Apparently there was more to the man than he'd first realized. Maybe that's why Kate stuck by him the way she did.

  "You coming aboard?" Duncan asked as he climbed onto his boat.

  "I would like to speak to you.”

  "I don't have much time. I've got a race to plan. Things are finally turning around for me."

  Tyler could see that. Duncan looked like a different man today—a light in his eyes, an energy in his step. "Have your daughters changed their minds about racing with you?"

  "Not yet, but they will. Kate is the stubborn one. Where she goes, the other girls follow. But she'll change her mind. When push comes to shove, she always chooses family."

  Duncan sounded confident. Based on past experience? Or just a hopeful wish?

  "Why did you sell your boat in the first place?" Tyler asked.

  "I needed the cash. And I wanted to make sure the girls had money to live on."

  Tyler nodded. "I'd love to see what it's like to sail around the islands. I was wondering if you could take me out sometime."

  "You know anything about sailing?”

  "Not a damn thing."

  Duncan laughed. "No bullshit, huh? I like that. But I can't let you race with me—too much at stake."

  "I understand."

  "I can take you out on this boat, though. Maybe tomorrow. Come by the Oyster Bar later and we'll talk."

  "Great. I'll look forward to it." As Tyler got off the boat, he saw Kate and Caroline making their way down the dock. Kate hesitated when she saw him, then continued forward.

  "Tyler," Kate said coolly, obviously not happy to see him with her father. "What are you doing here?"

  "Talking to your dad."

  Her frown deepened. "Well, I hope you're done, because Caroline and I need to speak to our father.”

  "He's all yours."

  "If you've come to sign on for the race, climb aboard and we'll talk," Duncan said. "Otherwise, I have things to do."

  Duncan stood straight and tall, his position on the boat setting him above them. With his shoulders squared and his jaw firm, he appeared very much the master of his destiny, and perhaps theirs as well, Tyler thought, casting a sideways glance at Kate and Caroline.

  "We've come to talk you out of this crazy idea," Kate said.

  Wrong choice of words, Tyler wanted to tell her, but he didn't have time.

  "It's not crazy, and it's not an idea," Duncan snapped. "It's a fact. I'm sailing the Summer Seas. I'm going to win back our boat. I'd like you two to help me. We lost her together. We should get her back together."

  "We didn't lose her; we sold her," Kate replied.

  "Actually, you two sold her," Caroline interjected. "I don't think I had a say in the matter."

  "Caroline, you're not helping," Kate grumbled.

  "And you don't speak for me," Caroline retorted. She turned to her father. "Daddy, why is K.C. racing our boat?"

  "To show us up, that's why. He wants revenge. And this is his way of getting it. But he won't succeed if we stick together. I need your help. We're family."

  Tyler watched Kate's reaction as Duncan played the family card. He could see the indecision in her eyes. She was as loyal as they came. Caroline also watched Kate. Despite Caroline's brashness and bravado, she seemed willing to give Kate the lead.

  "We made a promise to one another to move on with our lives. This is moving back, not forward," Kate said.

  "I don't see it that way," Duncan replied.

  "There is no other way to see it."

  "I want the Moon Dancer back. And I'm going to get it, with or without you." And with those words, Duncan disappeared into his cabin.

  "Great job, Kate," Caroline said as she blew out a large bubble of pink gum that snapped against her lips.

  "What did you want me to do?"

  "Not call him crazy for one."

  "Racing is crazy."

  "You used to love it. Kate was the bravest one of all," Caroline added for Tyler's benefit. "Utterly fearless. I admired her so much."

  "I'm still here, Caroline," Kate said with annoyance.

  "Not the person you were. That person left a long time ago. I kind of miss her." She paused. "I'll see you around, Kate, and probably you, too, Tyler."

  Kate sighed as Caroline left.

  "Is she right? Were you once fearless, Kate?" Tyler asked.

  "Not fearless, stupid. I believed in the wrong people and the wrong things. Then I grew up. I wish I could say the same for the rest of my family, but you might as well call my father Peter Pan, because he is never going to leave Never Never Land."

  Tyler smiled. "I think you're right.”

  "What are you doing here, anyway? Digging for more dirt?" she asked.

  "Don't worry. Your father didn't tell me the location of the family jewels.”

  "What did he tell you?"

  "That I could sail with him tomorrow."

  Her jaw dropped in surprised. "What?"

  "He said he'd take me out on his boat tomorrow so I could see firsthand what it feels like to sail.”

  "I'd advise against it."

  "I'm sure you would. But why, exactly?"

  "Because my father is reckless and unreliable."

  "I can't imagine someone would put him in charge of their boat if he didn't have some skill."

  "You didn't say anything to my father about K.C., did you?" she asked, looking past him toward her father's boat. "About the possibility that my mother and K.C. had some sort of relationship?”

  "No. That's up to you."

  "It would make sense—why they started to hate each other," she murmured.

  "So you believe it now?"

  "I don't know, but I couldn't stop thinking about it last night."

  "Just ask him, Kate. Go in there and ask him. What do you have to lose?"

  She stared back at him. "Everything. My whole identity, that's what. And he's already angry with me. I don't think it's a good time." She spun on her heel and started walking down the dock.

  "Where are you going now?" Tyler asked as he followed her.

  "Back to work, I guess."

  Her halfhearted reply gave him hope. "I have a better idea."

  "I doubt that."

  He put his hand on her shoulder, stopping her in her tracks. "It's a beautiful day. How about a picnic on the beach?"

  "A picnic on the beach?" she echoed, as if she'd never heard the words before.

  "You know, wicker basket, fried chicken, potato salad, blanket, maybe a little wine. I was reading a brochure I found in my hotel room about a beach with a waterfall. I'd like to see it."

  She cleared her throat. "I don't think so. Things didn't go very well yesterday when we spent time together."

  "Today is another day."

  "I don't know, Tyler.
There's no point."

  "Does there always have to be a point?" he challenged.

  "For you, I would think so. You came here for a reason, to write an article. I've already told you I'm not going to help in that regard, so I'm not quite sure why you're still hanging around."

  He considered her point. It was something he'd spent a lot of time thinking about, in fact. The suggestion of an article had been the easiest way to get into the McKenna family, but it hadn't played out the way he and Mark had intended. Maybe it was time to change the plan.

  "I've actually decided to do as you originally suggested."

  "Which is what?" she asked, surprise in her voice.

  "Talk to some of the other sailors, find some interesting anecdotes, come up with another story angle.” It wasn't completely a lie. He had never actually intended to write an article, only to find out who was Amelia's mother.

  "If that's true, then you should be picnicking with someone else."

  "Maybe I just want to spend time with you," he said with a smile. "Come on, say yes. It's just a picnic."

  Kate didn't answer for a moment, a battle going on in her eyes. Then she said, "You better put together the best picnic basket I've ever seen, which will definitely include potato salad, some kind of fancy Brie cheese, and chocolate. Got it?"

  "I got it.”

  "I need to stop in at the store."

  "I'll meet you back there in twenty minutes.” He didn't want to give her too much time or she'd surely change her mind.

  "I'm fairly sure this is a mistake," Kate said.

  "Well, if it is, it will be delicious." Whistling, he headed down the street in search of a delicatessen.

  Chapter Fourteen

  "Your chariot awaits," Tyler said a half hour later as he pulled Kate out of her bookstore and pointed his hand toward the street where he'd rented two bicycles. The picnic basket was strapped somewhat precariously on the back of a sleek, fifteen-speed racer. Tyler supposed he could have chosen something more modest, but, hell, he was a guy, and certain macho tendencies couldn't be denied.

  Kate raised an eyebrow when she saw her matching bike. "Are we riding in the Tour de France or pedaling around the island?"