A gust of wind pulled at her San Francisco Forty-niners baseball cap and as she reached up a slender hand to hold it in place, Kelsey saw the large marquis-cut diamond engagement ring she wore. She glanced down at the ring she'd slipped on her finger this morning. Definitely not in the same league, but she wouldn't trade it for ten like the girl wore if she had to take the haunted look in her eyes, too. The girl took a deep breath and exhaled. A wispy cloud formed in front of her face.
Kelsey opened the door. "Yes?"
The young woman didn't answer right away, just stared. Then her voice came out in a small whisper. "Mister Samson, please."
"Who?"
"Ben Samson," she said and Kelsey saw her lips tremble.
"And you are?"
"I'm his daughter, Delilah."
Ben's daughter? She hadn't known Ben had a daughter, but there was a lot she didn't know about Ben. "Do you have some I.D.?"
The girl unzipped a fannypack and brought out a folded piece of paper. It was a birth certificate. Delilah Kinsey Brown was born September 6, 1996. Her mother was Kinsey Marie Brown and, under Father, Kelsey saw the name Ben Samson.
"I have a picture, too," Delilah said. She fumbled some more, then handed a faded Polaroid snapshot to Kelsey. It showed a younger Ben smiling into the camera, his arm around a beautiful black woman.
Kelsey flipped the picture over. Ben and me, she read, March 4, 1996. She smiled at the girl. "Come on in."
How could she tell this girl her father had entered a rift and was in another world? She'd think Kelsey was crazy.
"Ben's not here."
"May I wait?" Delilah said as she came into the foyer.
"I don't know when he'll be back."
"Please." The girl's eyes glistened and she blinked rapidly.
"Ben's out of the state," Kelsey said.
Delilah's shoulders slumped and she swayed. "No. He can't be."
Kelsey put her arm around Delilah's shoulders and guided her to the first step of the stairway. "Here, sit down."
Delilah sat with her head lowered. "I waited too long." Her voice choked on the last word.
"It's not your fault you missed him. Ben's been gone for seven years," Kelsey said.
Delilah looked up. "Seven years?"
Kelsey nodded.
"Then he'd been gone four years before I even knew he existed."
Kelsey sat next to her. "Does Ben know about you?"
"I don't think so, ... he might." Delilah shivered. "Maybe he thinks I'm dead, too."
"Dead?"
"My mother told me my father died before I was born."
A long paused stretched before Kelsey said, "Would you like something warm to drink? Some tea?"
"I don't want to be a bother." Delilah stood. "If he isn't here..."
"I'll be seeing him." Kelsey inwardly groaned as the words left her mouth. Why had she said that?
"You will? Where is he?"
Kelsey hesitated. "Ben's a monk. He's in seclusion." She hoped those were the right words. "He sees very few people of this world."
"I'm his daughter."
"A daughter he may not even know exists."
Delilah pressed her lips together tightly. "Momma should have told me the truth."
"Your mother kept Ben away from you?"
"Three years ago, when I was seventeen, I found a letter from my grandmother. In it, she begged my mother to tell me the truth. When I confronted her, she told me about my father, but she wouldn't help me find him. No. I did it on my own, and it took me three years."
Kelsey sighed. "If you'll write Ben a letter, I'll take it to him."
"Why can't I go with you?"
"Ben only sees one person every seven years from the carnal world. This year it's my turn." Her face flushed, and she looked away from the girl's gaze.
Delilah clenched her hands into fists. "Then I'll have to wait another seven years to see him?"
"It's Ben's choice. He can come back with me if he wants to."
"What about my choice?" Delilah whispered. "I never had one."
"I'll tell him about you. It's all I can do."
Delilah stood. "You're right. It's not your problem. I've waited all my life. I can wait a little longer." She turned toward the door.
"Wait," Kelsey said, a little surprised the girl had given in so easily. "Where can I reach you?"
Delilah pulled a business card and a pen from the fannypack. She wrote on the card's back and held it out. "I'm staying at the Mark Hopkins."
Kelsey raised an eyebrow. The Mark Hopkins, one of the ritziest hotels in San Francisco, sat atop Nob Hill. Duncan had taken her to the rotating restaurant at its top last year for her birthday.
The girl's cheeks reddened. "My stepfather keeps a suite there." She walked to the door. Once there she turned. "I never did get your name."
"Kelsey. Kelsey Cafferty."
"I've seen your photos in the Examiner. Very nice work."
"Thank you." She heard a car park at the curb, and then a door slammed. A tuneless whistle floated from the darkness. Duncan came into the light of the porch. He wore tan Levi Dockers and a rust-colored pullover the exact shade of his hair. No jacket for him and he was paying for it; his cheeks were the same ruddy hue as the sprinkling of freckles across the bridge of his nose. His whistle cut off in mid-note. He looked from Delilah to Kelsey. His eyebrows rose in question above sea-green eyes.
"Duncan Drake, this is Delilah Brown."
Delilah reached out a hand and Duncan pumped it twice before releasing it. "Miss Brown."
"I know your work. I admire your way with words."
Duncan smiled. "Thank you." He snaked his arm around Kelsey's waist and pulled her against his side. He smelled like citrus after-shave and peppermint Tic-Tacs. "They'd be nothing without this woman's photographs."
"I do believe you're right." Delilah turned to Kelsey again. "I'll be anxious to hear from you." She turned, walked down the steps and became lost in the darkness.
"Ouch," Duncan said. "She'd didn't have to agree so wholeheartedly." He stomped his feet. "Let's get inside. I'm freezing my ass off. What's her story?" he said as Kelsey closed the door.
"She's looking for Ben."
"Ben?"
"I told you about him. He lived here with my sister. He and his basset hound."
"Right. The handyman." Duncan headed toward the kitchen. "I smell garlic bread." He gave a low whistle when he saw the table. He turned and stared at Kelsey. "We celebrating tonight, or is this a fancy kiss-off?"
Kelsey held out her left hand. The small diamond caught the light and flashed.
Duncan's lips curved into a huge smile. "You mean what I think you do?"
"Yes," Kelsey said.
"Is it simply yes? Or does it mean, 'yes, Duncan, I'll marry you and agree to be your love slave for the rest of my life?'"
Kelsey laughed. "It means yes, I will marry you. The love slave part is still open for negotiation."
Duncan whooped, then grabbed her around the waist and twirled her in mid-air before sitting her back on her feet. "You won't regret it, Kelsey. I swear I'll make you the happiest woman in the world." He pulled her close and kissed her lips. The kiss deepened and she stood up on her toes and pressed herself tighter against his firm frame.
Buzzing filled her head. She shook it, but the sound would not go away. Then she realized it was the timer. She unclasped her hands from around Duncan's neck and stepped back.
"The garlic bread," she said.
"What?" Duncan said, then, "Oh, right. The garlic bread."
"I could just turn the oven off," she suggested.
"No, it's okay. We'll have the rest of our lives for lovemaking." He walked to the table and picked up the bottle of Zinfandel. "Good year."
She pulled the bread from the oven. "Get the salad, will you?"
Kelsey transferred the slices of bread into a woven basket lined with a blue-checked cotton napkin.
"Ranch or Italian dressing?" Dun
can called with his head inside the refrigerator.
"Ranch."
She heard him behind her and felt his hands circle her waist as she rinsed the angel-hair pasta.
"This is great, isn't it? Us doing this kitchen stuff together. And it won't stop after we're married. I promise." She felt his mouth nuzzle the back of her neck.
"Give the clam sauce a quick stir, will you?" Kelsey said.
"Sure, babe."
Her lips tightened. How many times had she asked him not to call her babe? Forcing the irritation away, she forked pasta onto two plates and turned toward the range.
*****
"A week? That's all? You sure?" Duncan said. "You haven't seen your sister in a while."
"Maybe eight or nine days."
He drained the last of his wine. "Are you positive she won't be able to make our wedding?"
"She won't leave Peter and the kids for any length of time." Kelsey stumbled over the word kids. She had no idea if any existed, but was willing to bet at least one did.
"Where is it again they live?"
"A little town in Iceland. It's got a funny name. I can't recall it offhand." She would have to tell Duncan about Daradawn. Jeez, she was marrying the man. Would he believe her? She could take him with her through the rift, but everything inside her shunned the idea. She wanted this trip to be solo.
Duncan reached across the table and covered her hand with his. "We could get married there."
Married in Daradawn? With Regan, Peter, and Angus. Queen Tessa could even be the one to marry them, but would it be legal in this world? "All of your friends and family are here," Kelsey said. "Regan will understand."
He gave her hand a squeeze. "Whatever you want is fine with me." He stood and started clearing the dishes from the table. "When's your flight out?"
"Tonight at ten o'clock."
"Tonight? Damn. I've got the interview with the soap heiress at nine-thirty."
"I can drive myself. It's better this way. I hate airport goodbyes." Kelsey stood and carried her glass to the sink.
"How about airport hellos? How do you feel about them?" He took her glass and set it in the sink with the rest of the dishes.
"I like hellos just fine."
"When's your flight back?"
She took a deep breath. "I don't know yet. I've left it open. I'll call you when I book it."
Duncan pulled her close and kissed her. "I miss you already," he said against her lips before releasing her. He motioned toward the sink. "I'll have to let you take care of these. I can't keep the soap princess waiting."
She punched him in the arm. "I've got them tonight, but don't get used to it."
He pulled her close again and whispered into her hair. "God, I love you, Kelsey Cafferty."
She leaned into him. "Good, because I love you too." And she did, in her own way.
He sighed and stepped away from her. "I've gotta get going. Give your sister and family my love and tell them I'm looking forward to meeting them."
She walked with him to the door and watched until he got into his car and drove away. Then spun on her heels and dashed for the kitchen.
Kelsey had never done the dishes so fast. One last wipe of a glass and she tossed the towel on the counter and sprinted toward the stairs.
The trousers and shirt she'd worn when she'd returned from Daradawn lay in the middle of the bed. She shimmied out of her dress and slipped into them. The cotton-like fabric felt soft and cool against her skin. Smiling, she opened her jewelry chest and picked up the opal pendant. She'd held it and admired it countless times since her return, but she'd never put it on. She'd even showed it to Duncan once, told him it had belonged to her grandmother, and then her mother, and he'd asked her why she didn't wear it. Only for very special occasions, she'd said, promising to wear it the next time he took her out.
With trembling fingers, she parted the gold-link chain and slipped it over her head. The opal dropped to rest between her breasts. The stone was cool, but warmed as it absorbed the heat from her body. A dark weight seemed to lift from her soul and she laughed. Why had she waited so long to wear it again?
Kelsey grabbed the stuffed backpack and her fur-lined leather jacket. In the backpack she'd stuffed surprises for all of them. Cotton bikini panties, perfumed soaps and a sky-blue silk negligee for Regan. She'd planned, discarded and re-planned on what to bring for the kids she hoped Regan and Peter had by now, and at last she'd decided on two Imperial yo-yos. If they were a hit, the carvers of Daradawn could easily make more. Once she'd met her niece, nephew or both, she'd get them something special before she returned home.
For Peter she'd purchased a leather-bound journal. The front was a geometric rendering of a blazing sun. Angus had been easy. A quick trip to the mall had netted her a Meerschaum pipe and some Captain Black tobacco. Queen Tessa had been harder, until she'd stumbled across a pair of handcuffs at a yard sale. They'd go perfect with the rest of her war collection. Maggie had a rawhide bone, and Ben a pair of Rockport sandals. For Margeaux she'd purchased a shawl with a silk-screen of a silver moon in all of its full beauty.
She'd wobbled back and forth on whether to get Rourk and his family a gift. Would it seem pushy? She'd finally decided on a tapestry of the San Francisco skyline at night. It would look beautiful on any wall.
With a satisfied smile, she headed for the stairs.
Outside the back gate, the oleanders still formed a dark tunnel leading to the garage. She'd thought of yanking them out, but liked their wildness. Besides, this was still technically Regan's home.
Inside the garage was a new blue Toyota Corolla. Regan's had given up the ghost a year ago. Kelsey tossed the pack in the passenger seat, started the car and backed out of the garage.
Chapter Two
Kelsey saw the Orinda exit and switched to the inside lane. Except for the lone pair of headlights behind her, she had all four lanes of 680 to herself. She flipped her blinker and took the exit.
Ahead, headlights in the wrong lane shot straight at her. She smashed the brakes to the floorboard and wrenched the steering wheel to the right.
No, It's not possible. This isn't happening. Not now.
The car fishtailed. The screech of ripping metal filled her ears, and her world turned end over end. "Regan," she screamed, as pain exploded in her stomach and chest.
Slowly the world steadied. She hung upside down and with each fought-for breath, pain sucker-punched her stomach. Warm water dripped into her eyes and mouth. No, not water, blood, bitter and coppery-tasting. She tried to lift her hand to wipe it away, but it just hung there, unmoving. Pounding filled her ears. A voice called to her, and she shifted her eyes to the right, but there wasn't anybody there, only more blackness.
"Hang in there," a bodiless voice encouraged. "Help's coming."
She opened her mouth, but choked and coughed as more blood flowed into it. With each gagging spasm, pain sliced a little more of her stomach. Pain exploded inside her head, and she sank into welcoming darkness.
*****
"Kelsey," Regan screamed as her eyes snapped open. She struggled to raise her cumbersome body into a sitting position on the bed.
Peter rushed through their chamber's door. "What is it?" He grabbed her hands and helped her from the bed.
She swayed and clasped his hands tighter. "Something's wrong. Something's happened to Kelsey."
"It was just a bad dream. I am sure your sister is fine and on her way to us with Angus even as we speak."
Regan shook her head. "No, she called for me, and she was in darkness and pain." She pulled away from Peter. "I have to go to her."
He grabbed her hands again. "You are going nowhere. Our baby is to arrive soon."
"Catherine isn't due for two weeks." The child inside kicked at the words and Regan winced.
"What?" Peter said. "Do you need Helena?"
She took a deep breath before answering. "I'm fine. Just a love tap from our daughter. It's Kelsey who needs me."
A red-liveried man burst into the room. "Lord Angus comes."
"See," Peter said. "They are here." He guided her toward a chair. "Sit. I will get them."
She let him push her into the chair. "Peter..." But her husband was already out of the door and didn't hear her last words. "...he didn't mention Kelsey."
*****
Peter ran into the stable. Angus Bladeheart stood at Jax's head, alone. Peter glanced around, but saw only an empty saddle on Freya's back. "Kelsey?"
The dwarf shook his head. "She did not come. I thought of waiting, but knew Regan would be going wild, so I came back to tell you instead."
Peter ran his fingers through his unbound hair. "She dreamt Kelsey is in trouble."
Angus gripped Jax's mane and prepared to swing back onto the gelding's back. "I will fetch her from the hellish city."
Peter shook his head. "No, I will. You don't know where the house is in San Francisco." He glanced back toward the castle. "You go stay with Regan, and keep her here, no matter what."
Angus grimaced. "Please, let me go wrestle Zara instead."
Peter smiled and clasped the dwarf's upper arms for a moment before turning to the stable lad. "Saddle Skylar." Moments later, Peter rode from the stable.
"Peter," a voice called to him from the darkness.
He turned to see Regan standing in the shadows. "Damnation, woman."
She held up her hand. "I'm not going with you. I'd only slow you down. When you get there, go to the hospital. I can't remember the name, but it's the one closest to the house."
"Kelsey will be waiting for me at your old home," he said. "She will have a simple reason for being late. You will see."
Regan closed her eyes. "I hope you're right, but if she isn't there, then go to the hospital. Promise me."
Peter reined Skylar closer to her. He reached down and grasped her hand. "I promise. Now go back to Angus, and stay with him." He heard a rumbling curse and looked across Regan's head to the dour-faced dwarf hurrying toward them.
The Emerald Dagger Page 2
