Heart Stealers

by Patricia McLinn

  Three years ago she never would have hesitated over this situation. She’d have closed the door of her life on a man like him without a moment’s hesitation.

  But three years ago there hadn’t been Matthew’s future questions to consider. Three years ago she hadn’t had the security of her life in Far Hills or the daily support of Marti and Ellyn. And three years ago she hadn’t gone through a hurricane with the man now lying on her couch.

  A man who’d saved her life, probably more than once. A man she’d trusted with her life.

  A man in pain.

  Maybe Marti was right. Maybe she could help him heal. Help protect him from the storm that pursued him as he’d once protected her from Aretha.

  She’d still have to be careful about Matthew, of course. Not let him get too attached to Daniel.

  Because the very reason she could consider trying to help Daniel heal was the same reason he could hurt Matthew so desperately – because in the end Daniel Delligatti would leave.

  He needed to fly. He’d said that himself.

  And flying would always take him away.

  Yes, she was attracted to him – deeply attracted to him, as their history, ancient and more recent, proved. But as long as she kept her head on straight and remembered why this man was so impossible for her and dangerous to Matthew, it would be okay.

  And she could do that. She would do that.

  She’d keep Matthew safe. And she’d be safe.

  She’d make sure of it.

  * * *

  Daniel was still asleep when Kendra got up the next morning.

  It was strange waking up in a house that didn’t have Matthew in it and did have Daniel in it.

  She peeked at him from the hallway and saw he’d turned on his side, facing the room. He slept on.

  By the time she’d showered and pulled on sweats, he seemed more restless. She left a clean towel and washcloth folded on the coffee table in silent invitation, then headed to the kitchen.

  She was sipping from her first cup of coffee when she heard the shower start. She hadn’t heard a single sound before that. Apparently his government training or his years at Taumaturgio or both had left him able to move without noise. If the water pipes didn’t gripe at being used, she would have had no idea he was awake.

  Having him in the house and not knowing where he was or what he was doing, that would make anyone edgy.

  When the water went off, she started the eggs and toast. She’d planned on over-easy eggs until the first one hit the pan. Maybe she needed more sleep.

  She didn’t hear him come into the kitchen, either. Yet she knew exactly when he’d rounded the corner.

  She liked that even less than not knowing where he was.

  “I hope you like scrambled eggs. That’s all Matthew will eat, and I seem to be out of practice at making any other kind.”

  He held his silence. She couldn’t resist the almost palpable pull of his will. She looked up.

  His hair was wet, slicked back the way Paulo had worn it, but already starting to dry enough to let the waves work free. The stubble on his cheeks had blossomed toward a beard and his clothes proclaimed they’d been slept in. But his skin didn’t have the gray tinge of last night, his shoulders were straight and his eyes had shaken off some of the ghosts.

  Or put them back behind closed doors.

  “Scrambled’s fine.” He stepped to the edge of the counter that divided the working area from the eating area. “Kendra, I’m sorry about last night.”

  “There’s nothing to be sorry about.”

  His mouth twisted. “How about for crying all over your shoulder?”

  “You didn’t.” She turned back to the eggs. “If you want to be technical, I did the crying. You talked about some things. There’s no crime in that.”

  He snorted. “Seems like talking’s all I’ve been doing. They put me through more debriefing back in Washington.” The toaster oven door clicked open. Without being asked, Daniel took the toast out, put it on the plate she’d left nearby, then started two more pieces. “You’d think they’d already have every thought that ever passed through my head down on paper by now, but they wanted more.”

  “And that’s what got you thinking about Santa Estella again.”

  “Yeah, I guess. Butter or jelly?”

  “Strawberry preserves for me.” She spooned fluffy eggs onto two plates. “But you should feel proud of what you did, Daniel. You –”

  “Those kids needed me to stick around – they need me there now. I let them down.”

  “Daniel, you gave years of your life –”

  “I could still be there if I hadn’t gotten so damned sure I could pull off anything.”

  They met at the kitchen table. Her with the two plates with eggs, him with the toast, plus a cup of coffee he’d poured himself.

  He dug into the eggs, apparently still filling the hole created over several days of not eating. She nibbled at a piece of toast.

  “You know, there are other ways to help kids, Daniel. Other kids – people – who need help. All around you. There might not be the headlines, but it’s still important. It might not mean flying daredevil missions into dangerous spots. It might be quiet and ordinary things, but it needs doing.”

  “Trouble is, I’m not sure I have those skills.” His would-be wry grin stretched tight with pain. “I watch the parents with their kids at the co-op and especially I watch you with Matthew, and... I’m a hell of a lot better at flying in to some isolated spot in the dead of night. That’s what I know. That’s what I’m good at. That’s what I should be doing.”

  “Did you ever think that if you were still doing that, you wouldn’t be here for Matthew now, like you weren’t here for him his first two years of life.”

  It was harsh, but it stopped him.

  “You’re right. I should have been there – for Matthew and you.”

  “What’s important is how you’ll be here for him now. As for me –” A memory of being wrapped in strong arms flashed through her. She blinked it away. “– I’ve done fine.”

  “If I’d been around, you wouldn’t have had to give up your career.”

  “What do you mean give up my career?” she demanded in mock indignation. “I still have a career. I’m still a reporter.”

  The line of his mouth eased. “I meant network television – your chance to crack the big-time, the way you dreamed of.”

  She’d thought that herself at first. Sometimes in anger, occasionally in self-pity. Now she felt only impatient at the thought. She busied herself with the dishes.

  “I had a journalism professor who said that if you knew you were down to your last day of life and being on the air wasn’t how you wanted to spend it, then network reporting probably wasn’t for you. It takes the kind of dedication and single-mindedness that would make you have to get the big story, even if the big story is the end of the world.”

  “Are you saying you didn’t have that kind of dedication?” Daniel asked skeptically. “I wished I’d known that when you were chasing Taumaturgio so hard.”

  “Oh, I wanted that story, all right. As a means to an end – the end being lifelong financial security.” She remembered lying in the hospital bed, alone with her son for the first time, could almost feel the curve of his newborn cheek under her fingertip. “That didn’t seem so important after Matthew came along. He changed my view. Don’t get me wrong, I still want security. It’s just that I’ve adjusted my view of what will make me secure.”

  * * *

  She pulled up next to Daniel’s car in the otherwise empty church parking lot. They had cleaned up the breakfast dishes in near silence. He’d said he could walk back to town, and she’d told him she had an errand in town anyhow. It wasn’t the truth but it kept him from arguing.

  “Listen, Kendra, I don’t know how to say –”

  “There’s no need to say anything.”

  “I feel like – like I spilled my guts.”

  “Now you
know how I felt after Santa Estella.”

  He stared at her a moment. “I suppose I do.”

  He got out of the car. Then, with the door still opened, she called his name and he leaned back in.

  She didn’t stop to think about the words. “Are you still available for babysitting Saturday, Daniel?”

  His eyebrows rose slowly.

  “Yeah, I’m available.”

  He sounded almost as if he thought she meant to push him away somehow. But that made no sense when she’d offered what he and Fran had wanted – an opportunity for him and Matthew to be alone.

  Trying to puzzle that out must have left a gap in the conversation and some doubts in Daniel’s mind, because he asked, “Are you sure?”

  “About Saturday? Yeah.”

  He gave her a long, considering look, and she knew he understood how unsure she was about so much else.

  “Okay. Thank you.”

  “Don’t thank me until you’ve survived the night.”

  His lips turned up – a faint smile, but a real one. No twists, no ironies to it.

  He straightened, but he didn’t move away from the open door. After a full minute he bent down, and she could see his face again.

  “Kendra –”

  “Don’t start in again about saying you’re sorry or saying thank you, Daniel.”

  “Okay, I won’t. How about if I say I owe you a steak dinner.”

  She smiled. “That you can say.”

  * * *

  “Daniel? This is Robert. Your brother.”

  “Hello, Robert. Everything okay?”

  “The purpose of my call is to ascertain that information. Is everything okay with you?”

  “Me? Fine.” If you didn’t count the fact that the mother of his son wouldn’t open herself up to his being in their life permanently and that his doubts about being a parent kept dripping acid in his gut. “Just fine.”

  “Then why have you told your supervisors that you won’t be returning after your leave?”

  “The exact words were I’d go back when hell froze over.”

  “Yes. So, everything is not fine.”

  “Sure it is. Only I’m not going back.”

  “Why? All your evaluations were excellent. You were obviously very good at your job.”

  So, Robert was high enough up to see his job evaluations. A connection that high up might have been useful information for Taumaturgio. Now it didn’t matter.

  “But it wouldn’t be good for my son, and maybe it wasn’t good for me.”

  Robert’s pause gave Daniel time to wonder why the hell he’d added that last part, and to Robert of all people.

  “How so?”

  “It doesn’t matter. The only thing you and my former supervisors need to know is I’m off the payroll as soon as my leave time runs out. And, even if I hadn’t earned every penny before, I earned it all over again by going through the grilling they gave me these last few days.”

  “A thorough exit interview is necessary.”

  Daniel snorted. “Hell, they’d already debriefed me from Santa Estella. This was for sport.”

  “They conducted the first debriefing with the expectation that they could call you in for further information. With your leaving the organization, we needed to be certain we had any potentially useful information you might possess.”

  “We?”

  After a slight pause came, “The United States government.”

  “Yeah, right. Well, you’ve covered every possible question.”

  “Ah, but the realm of possibility is not a fixed sight.” He gave a discreet cough, as if changing subjects. “You know, Daniel, your decision to leave the organization need not be final.”

  I don’t want my son to have a father who doesn’t come back – no matter how noble the cause. I know how that feels.

  “Yes, it does need to be final. If that’s why you called –”

  “I also wondered how the situation with your son stands.”

  “I’m working on it.” He rarely had trouble keeping a guard on his words, but more words came out before he’d considered them. “That’s why my decision to leave is final. For Matthew.”

  “So you can be there for your son. I see.”

  And damned if Daniel didn’t think Robert really did see.

  * * *

  Ellyn arrived with Matthew at ten. She looked around as if she half expected to see Daniel. After Matthew burbled on about his stay at the Sinclairs’ he toddled off to inventory his toys.

  Ellyn wasted no time: “So, what happened?”

  “I gave him dinner.”

  “And?”

  “No and.”

  “You’re kidding.”

  “I’m not kidding. What makes you think anything would happen?”

  Ellyn rolled her eyes. “History. Chemistry. Having eyes in my head. My God – he looks at you and my temperature goes up.”

  “Those are all fine reasons to not let anything happen. Making lo –” She switched to the less emotional term. “– sex just confuses things.”

  “How do you figure that?”

  “Don’t give me that dense act, Ellyn. Sex makes it difficult to think things through logically and come up with the most reasonable and practical approach.”

  Ellyn gave her a disbelieving look. “Kendra, honey, I hate to break it to you, but I don’t think the human heart was designed for logic. But if it’s logic you want, let me point out the logic of taking advantage of any opportunities that come your way when you have an energetic two-year-old around. In fact –”

  The door opened after a short knock, admitting Marti and Emily.

  Saved by the knock, Kendra thought. Nothing else would have stopped Ellyn from completing her lecture on the human heart.

  Marti held her questions until the kids had settled in the den with a puzzle, blocks and a fleet of rubber trucks.

  “So, what happened?” Marti demanded.

  Ellyn started to laugh, and Kendra glared at her.

  “As I’ve already told the other Ms. Nosy here, we talked, I fed him dinner and nothing else happened.”

  Marti sat down with a sigh, shaking her head. “Most folks around here have a live-and-let-live attitude, but not one hundred percent. I’ve already had phone calls this morning from Helen Solsong and Barb Sandy reporting you drove away from the church with Daniel in your car and his car remained parked at the church all night. It means it’s already being spread around town that you fed him breakfast as well as dinner, and they won’t hesitate to speculate about what came in between.”

  “Oh, for heaven’s sake,” muttered Ellyn.

  “What? Did they have Daniel’s car staked out?”

  “I wouldn’t be at all surprised,” Marti said. “They went on about how scandal has sullied the Susland name before and they were calling out of friendship so I would be prepared.”

  Anger burned through her, but Kendra touched Marti’s arm. “I’m sorry you’re getting fallout over my actions –”

  Marti caught her hand. “I don’t care about those two. I don’t care about any of it except you.”

  Kendra had been accustomed for so long to carry things on her own. She’d had no close girlfriends growing up – even if she’d been of a confiding nature, her mother had moved them too often to let any of her acquaintances become friends. Only to Amy had she told her secrets. First during summers, and then through long letters. They had gone to the same college and roomed together all four years, so she’d needed no other confidants.

  Her nature and her career had kept her from forming close friendships after college. Since Amy’s death, she’d grown closer to Marti, and Ellyn had become a true friend. But even with them she’d shared daily life rather than her thoughts or dreams or fears.

  Only with a stranger in the middle of a hurricane had she opened that part of herself.

  “We talked at the church about Santa Estella,” she started slowly. “Then I brought him back here. You saw him, Mar
ti.” She waited for her aunt’s nod. “I gave him dinner, and he fell asleep on the couch. When he woke up, I gave him breakfast and drove him back to his car.”

  Kendra drew a deep breath and took a plunge.

  “I’ll admit –” An admission to herself as well as them. “– I’m very attracted to him. I don’t suppose that’s a big surprise considering what happened between us on Santa Estella.”

  “That feeling could have died,” murmured Ellyn. “It happens.”

  Kendra remembered how she’d felt being held by Daniel, even asleep. “It hasn’t died. But even if I had any thought of acting on that feeling – which I don’t – it wouldn’t have happened last night.”

  She searched for a way to make them understand.

  “You’re right, Marti, that he’s got a lot of pain in him. He’s carrying a lot of guilt that he didn’t do more in Santa Estella – that he didn’t do everything.”

  Ellyn’s disbelieving tsking sound reminded Kendra why she liked the other woman so much.

  “– But I think it started much earlier. He had a horrible childhood, until he was adopted when he was about seven. And –” She hesitated, knowing this would win their instant sympathy. “– He’s worried he doesn’t know how to be a good father. He doesn’t feel he knows much about families.”

  “But he wants to be a good father?” Marti asked.

  “Oh, yes, he wants to be.” With elbows propped on the table to either side of her coffee cup, she dropped her chin to her palms. “I suppose that’s part of why he proposed. I was so angry at him for sweeping in here like the masked crusader, that it didn’t register at first that he thinks getting married will automatically make us a real family. He doesn’t realize –”

  “Wait a minute. Back up. What was that?”

  “He proposed,” Marti supplied. “You said he proposed to you.”

  Kendra straightened. She hadn’t meant to let that out. “Ye-es.”

  “And you didn’t bother to tell us?”

  “It wasn’t anything I seriously considered,” she protested. Except for a few crazy seconds.

  “Why not?”

  She might have expected that from Ellyn, bur Marti? Kendra gaped at her aunt. “Why not?” she repeated, dumfounded.

  “Kendra, you keep your heart under such close guard. Too close.”