Nathan's Child

by Anne McAllister

  It was hard, too, because she felt such conflict. She didn’t want to feel beholden to Nathan, and yet she was. He was saving her bacon by taking Lacey every day, by having hired Elaine, by allowing her to paint.

  Even so, it was hard to feel grateful. She didn’t want to feel grateful. And yet she knew she owed him.

  More guilt.

  And then there was Hugh. Carin was grateful to him, too. He made a point of stopping around in the evening along about the time Nathan would be bringing home Lacey. He stood in her kitchen, beer bottle in hand, acting like he’d been there all evening, giving her intimate little smiles and winks designed to make Nathan believe she and Hugh were an item.

  He kissed her, too. And she let him—in front of Nathan. She told him they were friends. He said of course they were friends. But then he winked at her. And he kissed her. And there was something in the way he looked at her.

  Even more guilt.

  Oh, God, what a mess everything was!

  The painting, wretchedly slow as it was, was the most successful part of her life! At least when Stacia had called on the weekend, she’d been able to say, without lying, that she had two paintings finished and the others were coming along.

  “Terrific!” Stacia had been delighted. “I’m so glad. Do you want me to get you reservations for a place to stay?”

  “No. Thanks. I still don’t think we’ll be able to make it.” Every spare penny she had was being put away to reimburse Nathan for Elaine’s salary.

  “But you could use a holiday,” Stacia argued.

  “That wouldn’t be a holiday,” Carin said truthfully. The very notion of going to her own opening scared her spitless. “A holiday is where you have a good time.”

  Stacia laughed. “Keep painting. Let me know when you’re getting close to finished and I’ll be down.”

  “Will do.”

  No, she wouldn’t go to New York. But maybe they could take a vacation to another of the islands. Stay a week or two before school started.

  And when they got back, with luck Nathan would be gone.

  Surely he had to leave sometime. He couldn’t just stay on the island forever. A man who made his living traveling to the four corners of the earth wasn’t going to be able to do that on an island five miles long and half a mile wide. The subject matter just wasn’t here.

  “Once you’ve seen one lizard, you’ve seen them all.” Carin smiled to herself.

  Maybe she could ask when he dropped Lacey off tonight. Since Hugh wasn’t here—he’d flown a charter to Nassau and would be returning tomorrow sometime—it would be good to have another distraction. Something to annoy Nathan.

  Since he got annoyed every time she brought up the possibility that he might not spend the rest of his life on Pelican Cay, that would be a good one.

  But shortly before nine, when she heard the car pull up out in front, the engine kept on idling even as the car door shut. Half a minute later, Lacey banged into the house and the car drove away.

  “No Nathan?”

  “Dad’s got company. Her name is Gaby.”

  “Gaby?” What kind of name was that? It called to mind blonde bimbos with big boobs.

  “His agent,” Lacey said.

  “Oh.” The blonde bimbo disappeared as fast as she’d come. “Well, that’s nice,” Carin said briskly. Nathan’s agent arriving had to be a good sign. “When did she arrive?”

  “This afternoon. We had dinner with her.”

  “And is she here to get your father to go back to work?” Carin asked, hoping she didn’t sound as eager as she was.

  “He is working,” Lacey said, offended. “He works every day on his book.”

  “I mean in the field. She must want him to go and take more photos.”

  Lacey hunched her shoulders. “Dunno. They didn’t talk about that. You don’t think he’ll leave, do you?”

  “I don’t know.” Clearly Lacey wanted him to stick around. Carin didn’t want to get in the middle of an argument about it.

  “He’s got a lot to do on his new book,” Lacey said. “The one he’s picking out photos for. And she was talking about him doing a show at her gallery this winter.”

  “Gaby has a gallery?”

  “Uh-huh. In Santa Fe. It has a Spanish name.” Lacey scrunched up her forehead, thinking. “Something about sombreros?”

  “Sombra? Sombra y Sol?” Even Carin had heard of Sombra y Sol. It was one of the best-known galleries in Santa Fe.

  “Yeah, that’s it. Sombra y Sol.”

  “I thought it belonged to Gabriela del Castillo.”

  “Yeah.” Lacey bobbed her head. “Gaby.”

  That was Nathan’s Gaby? Though Carin had never met Gabriela del Castillo—having lived in a Caribbean backwater for a dozen years, that was a given—she’d certainly heard of her.

  Gabriela del Castillo was a force to be reckoned with.

  The widow of famous art patron, agent and entrepreneur, Enrique Castillo, she took over his gallery and his business after his death a few years back. At first, gossips said she was coasting on her late husband’s coattails. But it hadn’t taken Sra del Castillo long to dispel that notion. She had an eye for talent—and she was a terrific marketer.

  Gabriela del Castillo was highly respected in the art world now. Sombra y Sol displayed some of the finest photographers in the world as well as some of the most successful artists in other media. It was one of the galleries Stacia had mentioned when she’d told Carin that if her show in New York was a success they might be able to take her work elsewhere. Carin had privately thought Stacia was aiming a little high.

  It didn’t surprise her that Gabriela del Castillo was Nathan’s agent. It did surprise her that Sra del Castillo was humoring him about his staying on Pelican Cay. But maybe she would crack her whip after she’d been here a couple of days. Carin envisioned her as an elderly, ramrod-straight Spanish matron with snapping black eyes and an astute business mind.

  “He showed her my photos,” Lacey said. “She liked them. She says I’m a chip off the old block. Maybe she’ll show my photos someday.”

  “Maybe,” Carin said. “How long is she staying?”

  “Dunno. They were going to The Grouper. He said he was going to take her out for a little local color.”

  Carin grinned. “Well, I hope she enjoys it.”

  It was hard to imagine a seventyish widow enjoying the steel band at The Grouper, but maybe Nathan was trying to broaden her horizons a little. “Is she staying at the Mirabelle?”

  The Sand Dollar was a hip, yuppie spot on Pelican Cay while the quietly elegant Mirabelle, tucked away by a cove at the south end of the island, was the poshest small inn on the island. It was one of several that Hugh’s brother, Lachlan, had bought in the past year. The Mirabelle was where all the VIPs stayed when they came to Pelican Cay.

  Lacey shook her head. “She’s staying at Dad’s.”

  Carin was surprised to hear that. But then, maybe Sra del Castillo was a family friend. Perhaps she and her husband had been friends of Nathan’s father. Douglas had to be about seventy now. And from what Carin remembered of him, he had his finger in many pies. She wouldn’t be surprised if Sombra y Sol was one of them.

  “Well, I’m sure she’ll find it comfortable and quiet,” she said. “She must be tired if she just arrived today.”

  Lacey shrugged. “I guess.”

  Carin yawned. “I’m tired, too. Time for bed. What time is your father picking you up tomorrow?” she asked as she shut off the light in the kitchen and shooed Zeno out onto the front porch.

  “He’s not,” Lacey said as she climbed the stairs. “I’m going fishing with Lorenzo and Thomas.”

  Carin stopped, one hand on the newel post. “What? Since when?”

  Lacey looked back at her. “Dad called Thomas and asked. He and Gaby have work to do. They said I’d be bored. And Thomas said it was okay.”

  “And he didn’t think to check with me?”

  Lacey lifted
her shoulders. “He said he didn’t want to bother you, on account of your painting and all.”

  “So he imposed on Thomas?”

  Lacey looked offended. “Thomas is glad I’m coming. He says I’m a ‘civilizing influence’ on Lorenzo.” She turned again and went up the steps.

  Carin, following, shook her head. “I wonder. Well, I guess…if Thomas agreed. But I still think your father should have discussed it with me.”

  “He says you never want to talk to him.”

  It was true, of course, but galling that he had mentioned it to Lacey.

  Still she went off to bed, heartened and blessing Gabriela del Castillo for her arrival. It wouldn’t be long now and Nathan would be gone. Carin felt better than she’d felt since Nathan had appeared back on Pelican Cay.

  The morning went well. The painting went well.

  Knowing that Lacey was with Thomas and Lorenzo and not with Nathan somehow freed up a little of her creativity. Knowing that Gabriela del Castillo was at this very moment most likely leaning on Nathan to get back to work freed up some more.

  Carin actually got some work done after Lacey left in the morning.

  It was the first time in a long long while that she’d been able to focus, to think, to feel as if she were “in a zone” as far as her work went. She even whistled while she worked, contemplating the departure of Nathan as she did so.

  She would have worked straight on through the afternoon, but Elaine expected her to bring lunch. She had done it every day, using it as an excuse to check on things, to see how Elaine was doing, to answer any questions the young woman might have.

  Ordinarily, too, it was a nice break because she was getting so little done that being allowed out of the studio for twenty minutes or so was a treat.

  Today she grumbled as she assembled Elaine’s lunch and bundled it into the basket of her bicycle. It wasn’t far to the shop, only a few blocks. But it was quicker to ride Lacey’s bike there and back, and today—for once—Carin was actually in a hurry.

  She pedaled off toward the shop, focusing on the new painting that was taking form in her mind. She didn’t see Miss Saffron’s cat dash across the road.

  She didn’t see Zeno race after him—not until he was right in front of her. She slammed on the brakes, jerked the handlebars and swerved just in time to see Nathan, his hand on the small of the back of an absolutely gorgeous blonde woman, going into the grocery store.

  Carin, gaping, wobbled wildly, swerved madly and hit a pothole.

  The bike flipped. So did the lunch.

  So did Carin.

  And then she went splat.

  CHAPTER SIX

  “CARIN! Good God, Carin! Are you all right?”

  Asinine question. Of course she wasn’t all right!

  She’d flipped right over the handlebars of the bike! If he shut his eyes Nathan could see it still, in slow motion, Carin sailing through the air, arms flailing in an attempt to get her balance—and lay now in a crumpled heap in the road.

  “Go inside. Tell ’em to call the doc.” He didn’t look to see if Gaby followed his directions or not. He had already hurdled the stair railing and was sprinting down the street toward Carin.

  She was conscious. She was moving. She was scraped. He saw blood and he could hear her swearing a blue streak, saying words that would have shocked him if he hadn’t been tempted to say them himself.

  “Don’t move,” he instructed as he crouched beside her. “Damn it, Carin! Stay still!” he commanded when she struggled to get up.

  “Bloody, bloody—! Oh, hell! Owwww!” She was scrabbling on the ground, trying to pick herself up, but one arm wasn’t cooperating. And Nathan was afraid to touch her for fear of making things worse.

  She had an abrasion on her cheek. Her legs were scraped, her hands bloody. And her arm—oh, God—her arm!

  “Stop moving, damn it!” Nathan snapped at her. “You’ve broken your arm.”

  Carin looked at him, stricken, white as a ghost. Only her lips and lashes had any color. “I haven’t! Oh damn! Oh hell! Oh—” She swore desperately. “I can’t have broken my arm!”

  “You have. Stop moving.”

  “You’re not a doctor! What do you know?”

  “I know you aren’t supposed to have an elbow halfway down your forearm.”

  She jerked her gaze down and really looked at it for the first time. Then she looked back at Nathan, went even whiter, and her eyes started to roll back in her head.

  “Damn it, Carin! Don’t faint!” He did his best to get her head down, trying to avoid her arm, easing his around her, feeling her whole body tremble. He had no doubt that she was in shock. “It’ll be okay. Gaby’s got ’em calling for the doc.”

  “Gaby,” she mumbled and shook her head as if she was dazed.

  “My agent,” he explained. “That’s her name.” It seemed stupid to be talking about Gaby now. He wanted to see how badly Carin was hurt.

  But people began appearing to stand around—Lyle from the grocery store, Emmalyn from the bakery, Otis who ran the hardware store. And Miss Saffron, holding her damned cat. Zeno was there, too, looking worried.

  “Is she all right?”

  “Carin, you ok?”

  “Oh, Carin!” It was Elaine. “You’re hurt! You’re not dyin’?”

  Carin saw her and dredged up the faintest of smiles. “Not dying,” she affirmed. “Your, um, lunch.” She managed a weak wave of her hand on the unbroken arm toward the contents of the bag that had been in the basket of the bike.

  “Forget the lunch.” She stopped at the sight of Carin’s arm. “Your arm! It’s your right arm!”

  The significance of this seemed to hit Carin at the same time it hit Elaine—and Nathan. Her right arm.

  “I can’t paint!” There was panic in Carin’s tone now. “Oh, my God, I—”

  “Here’s the doc,” Nathan broke in as Maurice pulled up in his Jeep and Doc Rasmussen climbed out.

  He ran quick, practiced hands over her and turned to Maurice. “Call Hugh. Tell him we need to get her to Nassau.” As he spoke he put a temporary splint on Carin’s arm.

  “Hugh’s already in Nassau,” she said weakly.

  “We’ll get him back here,” Nathan promised. “Call McGillivray and tell him to get his ass home.”

  Maurice shook his head. “Be lots faster if Molly takes her.”

  “Who’s Molly?”

  “Hugh’s sister,” Carin answered. “Yes, Molly can do it.”

  Nathan noticed she wasn’t arguing about having to go to the hospital. But he wasn’t sure about Hugh McGillivray’s sister. He’d met Molly McGillivray one day when he’d needed some work done on his boat’s motor.

  Lacey had said she knew who could fix it—and had taken him to see a girl she’d introduced as Hugh’s sister.

  Nathan had hardly believed it. Hugh had dark hair and blue eyes and was, even Nathan had to admit, pretty damned good-looking. The girl he’d met had carrot-red hair, freckles enough for a dozen Irishmen, and looked like a seventeen-year-old boy! She’d been wearing cutoff jeans, a baseball cap, and a T-shirt advertising a bar. With a smear of grease on her cheek and a wrench in her hand, she looked like a poster child for Tomboys R Us.

  She’d fixed his engine in no time flat.

  Now he said, “How many sisters does McGillivray have?”

  “Just Molly.”

  Nathan had been afraid of that.

  But Doc Rasmussen nodded. “Let’s get her in the car. Call Molly and tell her we’re coming. Maurice, you can drive us.”

  Nathan would have objected, but Carin, of course, was already trying to rise on her own, with Doc doing his best to support her.

  Nathan stepped in. “Here,” he said and scooped Carin into his arms before she could protest. “Open the door, Maurice.”

  Carin was still trembling as, slowly and carefully, Nathan carried her to the car and eased her into the front seat. He felt a shudder run through her before he got her settled. “Y
ou okay?”

  She nodded shakily. Her head fell back against the head-rest and she closed her eyes for a brief second before opening them again and meeting his gaze. “Yes. Thank you.”

  “No thanks necessary,” Nathan said gruffly. “Doc can ride with you. I’ll take my own car.”

  “You don’t need to come,” Carin said quickly. “You need to be here. For Lacey. She’s out fishing with Lorenzo and Thomas. Of course you know that. You set it up.” She sounded aggrieved.

  Nathan wasn’t going to get into that with her now. “I’ll see you at McGillivray’s.”

  “Lacey—”

  “Lacey will be fine.”

  She woke up in the hospital.

  At least she supposed she was at the hospital.

  She felt dazed and fuzzy-minded and her mouth tasted terrible. She looked around. She was in a private room, which didn’t seem right. There was no way she could afford a private room. Even dazed and confused, she knew that.

  She moved her gaze slowly—it was almost the only thing she could move—trying to take it all in.

  Her arm was in plaster halfway to her elbow. There were ominous metal screws sticking out of the plaster. One leg was raised on pillows. Her hands were bandaged. Her lips felt cracked. There was something stuck to her cheek. Every muscle in her body hurt. Even when she blinked, she could feel it.

  “Look who’s awake.”

  Her head jerked around and she almost screamed at the pull of the muscles. And very nearly screamed again at the sight of Nathan, unshaven and bleary-eyed, standing over her.

  “Wha-what are you doing here?” Even her throat hurt. Probably because they’d stuck some tube down it while they had her knocked out.

  “Watching you.”

  “Well, don’t.” If there was ever a time she didn’t need him around it was now. She knew she sounded petulant and probably even childish. “Just let me alone.”

  “Thought you might like to know how Lacey is.”

  Her gaze snapped back to him. She started to sit up. “What’s wrong with Lacey?”

  “Nothing’s wrong with Lacey,” he said quickly, his tone soothing. “You were worried when we left, so I thought I’d stay around and let you know she was fine. I figured you’d want to know.”