But before she could finish her thought, she heard a scraping sound nearby. She jumped, moving closer to Daniel. He quickly swung the light in the direction of the sound. Liza expected to see some creepy, nocturnal animal emerging.
Instead, she saw her nephew, standing in the opening that led to the next cave.
Dirty, wet, and sheepish-looking, Will came toward them and then just stood there. His head slowly lifted, and he looked at his father first, then at Liza and Daniel.
“Hey, guys . . . What’s up?”
Chapter Fifteen
PETER gasped. “Will! Thank God!”
He seemed so overcome, Liza thought he might faint. He staggered toward his son and wrapped his arms around the boy.
“Will,” Liza said, hardly able to speak. “Thank goodness you’re all right . . . You are, aren’t you?”
“I’m okay,” he said. He glanced at his father. “I’m sorry, Dad. I—”
Peter hushed him. “That’s okay. We’ll talk about it later. Don’t worry, everything is going to be fine. As long as you’re all right.”
With his arm around Will’s shoulder, Peter led him out of the caves and back up the hill. Liza was glad she had brought the blankets and quickly ran to Daniel’s truck to retrieve them. She carried them over to Peter’s car, where Will sat shivering in the front seat.
Daniel was giving the boy a quick examination to determine whether he needed to go to a hospital.
A few moments later, he said, “Well, he’s chilled and a bit dehydrated, but I don’t think he’s been overexposed. If we get him home and get him warm, give him plenty of fluids and some food tonight, he should be fine.”
“Good. I don’t really want to take him to a hospital,” Peter admitted. “I don’t want to let him out of my sight.”
Liza leaned into the car and covered Will with the blankets, wrapping one around his legs and another around his shoulders.
“I—I can’t seem to stop shivering,” her nephew said, sounding embarrassed.
“You will,” Liza said. “I promise.”
A few feet away she heard Peter on the phone, calling the police officers first and then Claire, sharing the good news.
PETER ushered Will from the car into the house, adjusting the blankets that clung to the boy’s shoulders. Liza got out of the truck, and Daniel walked around from the other side to meet her.
Liza saw Claire standing in the doorway at the top of the steps, her sturdy silhouette outlined by the warm light from within. As Will came closer, Claire stepped out to meet him, then smothered the boy in a comforting embrace, one that briefly took in Peter as well.
As they walked into the house together, Liza remembered how Claire had been waiting there the first night she returned. Even then, not knowing her at all, Claire had been ready to welcome her home. Just as she was there now for all of them.
Liza began to head for the house, then noticed that Daniel hung back. “Guess I’ll say good night,” he said.
“Aren’t you coming in?”
Daniel looked down at her and stuck his hands in his pockets. “Thanks, but it’s late. And it’s going to be hard enough for Peter and you to talk to Will without strangers around.”
“You’re not exactly a stranger,” she replied. “But I know what you mean. Thanks . . . Thanks for everything. We really appreciated your help today.”
He shook his head. “It was nothing. I was glad I could help. At least there’s a happy ending to the story, right?”
“Yes, to this one,” she said, thinking of the Hardys. Now that Will’s little drama had concluded, she and Peter would have to return to the dilemma of what to do with the inn. What had Claire told her to remember? Worry not.
Daniel gave her a curious look. She was tempted to tell him about the Hardys . . . to tell him everything. But they had all had enough stress for one day. It was best left for tomorrow.
Instead she asked, “Will you be back to work?”
“Bright and early. Tomorrow could be my last day.”
She didn’t like hearing that but nodded. “Okay. See you then.”
He looked about to walk away, then stopped. “Is there something on your mind, Liza?” he asked quietly.
“Um . . . no. It can wait.”
“Okay . . . but there’s something on my mind.”
He stepped closer and put his hands on her waist. Then he lowered his head and kissed her. Liza leaned into him, feeling his warmth and strength. Savoring the sensation of his lips on hers.
Liza felt breathless when they parted. She slowly stepped back and gazed up at him.
“Good night,” he said quietly. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”
She smiled, unable to speak for a moment. “Good night, Daniel,” she said finally.
He turned and walked back to his truck, and Liza headed for the house, feeling a bit light-headed and glowing with happiness, as if a low, steady flame had been lit somewhere deep in her heart.
She simply loved being with him. It didn’t seem to matter where they were or what they were doing. It was all good, as Will would say. She was going to miss Daniel so much when she left. But she didn’t dare think about that now.
LIZA found Peter and Claire in the kitchen, fussing over Will. The boy sat at the head of the table, still wrapped in the blankets but practically inhaling a bowl of soup and a big sandwich. Claire stood at the counter, fixing more food for him.
Peter sat at Will’s side, just staring at his son. “Now you’re sure you don’t need to see a doctor? Nothing hurts? You don’t feel dizzy or weak?”
“I’m okay, Dad. Honest,” Will managed between mouthfuls.
Peter nodded. “All right. You get a good night’s sleep, and we’ll see how you feel in the morning. Daniel said you need to drink a lot of liquids. You might be dehydrated.”
“He did? How does he know stuff like that?”
“He’s trained as a first responder, EMS,” Liza said. She walked over to Will and slung her arm around his shoulder, then planted a big kiss on the top of his head. She dropped down in the seat on his other side, across from her brother.
“You scared us to death, Will. The Cape Light bloodhounds were out, trying to sniff down your trail.”
Will’s eyes widened in surprise. “They were?”
Liza laughed. “Not quite . . . but almost.”
“We were worried sick,” Peter cut in. “Where were you all day, Will? We didn’t know what had happened to you.”
“I don’t know. Just riding the bike around.” Will shrugged. “It’s a pretty small island, I’m surprised you didn’t see me.”
Liza’s gaze narrowed, recalling how she had searched her assigned area for hours, even on foot. “It’s hard to find somebody who doesn’t want to be found, even in a place as small as this.”
“How did you end up in the cave?” Peter asked. “Were you hiding down there all day? I checked in the morning. We didn’t see you.”
“I didn’t go down there until it got dark. I got a flat on the bike, and I left it on the side of the road behind some bushes. I was near the caves and felt pretty cold, so I thought it would be a good place to stay for the night.”
“Was it?” Peter asked, meeting his son’s gaze.
Will smirked. “It was pretty creepy. All the bats and spiders and stuff.”
A good story to tell his friends though, Liza realized. A tale to swap when they boasted about their camping trip.
“So, why did you do it, Will?” Peter asked, his tone almost pleading. “Can you just tell me that?”
Liza sat back and looked at her nephew. He had stopped eating and was staring at the table, avoiding his father’s gaze.
Peter just waited, and Liza gave him points for patience.
Will shrugged. “I don’t know . . . I just felt like it.”
Peter let out a frustrated sigh. “You just felt like it? That’s all the answer I get? After what you put us through today?”
Liza gave Peter a quick look and shook h
er head. It wasn’t going to help if he went off the deep end and lost it.
“It must have been more than that, Will,” she said. “Can you just try to tell us how you’re feeling, what you’re thinking about right now? We were terribly worried, but we’re not mad, honestly.”
“We just want to understand,” Peter told his son.
“We really do,” Claire chimed in. “How can we help if you don’t tell us what’s wrong?”
Will slowly raised his head. He looked around at all of them. “I . . . I don’t want you to be mad at me.”
“I won’t be. I promise. Just tell us,” Peter said quickly.
Will looked at him, seeming doubtful. But then he stared straight ahead and said, “I don’t want to go back to Tucson. I want to stay here.”
Peter sat back as if someone had slapped him. “You want to stay here. Because you don’t want to come live with me half of the time, is that it?”
Liza saw him struggling to keep an even tone.
Will shook his head. “That’s not it. That’s not it at all. I would come live with you part of the time, but I just hate the way you and Mom are always fighting about it. Fighting over me. You’re so angry all the time. You make me feel like it’s all my fault.”
Peter looked shocked. “Of course it’s not your fault, Will. Your mom and I breaking up had nothing to do with you. We both love you very much.”
Liza felt Peter’s frustration, but she understood what Will was saying, too. Maybe he even understood intellectually that his parents’ divorce had not been because of him. But he didn’t feel that way deep inside. And almost two years later, they were still fighting about his living arrangements.
“I can just give up, Will,” Peter said softly. “I can just agree to let your mom have custody, and I’d visit you every other weekend. Is that what you want?”
Will shook his head. “Not really. I wouldn’t mind living with you, Dad . . . if you could be the way you are here.”
Peter looked puzzled. “The way I am here? On the island, you mean?”
Will nodded. “Yeah, like more fun and stuff. The way you were that day we went bike riding and when we took photographs together. The way you used to be before the divorce . . . Not all wound up and crazy and fighting with Mom over every little thing.”
Peter took in a long breath. He held Will’s gaze but didn’t answer for what seemed like a long time. Finally, he said. “Okay. I’m glad you told me what’s on your mind, Will. I need to think about this. It’s pretty serious stuff. We can talk more tomorrow after we’ve all had some rest. Is that all right with you?”
Will nodded. “I feel pretty tired. Like I’m going to nod off into my soup.”
“That would be . . . messy,” Liza said with a smile.
“Why don’t you finish your supper and take a hot shower?” Claire suggested. “I bet you fall asleep tonight before your head even hits the pillow.”
“I bet we all do,” Peter said. He looked over at Liza and sighed.
She wondered how he felt now about Will, and even about selling the inn. But she didn’t want to press him. Not tonight.
WHEN Liza got up the next morning, she thought she would be the first one downstairs, so she was surprised to find her brother in the front parlor. He sat at the oak table with the photo albums and a mug of coffee.
“Did you recover from the search and rescue mission?” he asked, as she took a seat at the table.
“I think I recovered when we first spotted Will down in that cave. It was brilliant of you to think of that, Peter.”
He shrugged and smiled. “And of Daniel to suggest going back there a second time. I’d say we were lucky. But I did get to thinking about that last night and realized that it was almost as if my happy memories of this place led us to him in some strange way. If I hadn’t been sitting here, reminiscing about my own adventures, I wouldn’t have thought of it.”
Liza smiled, charmed by the idea. “That might be true.”
“I feel it is true, Liza,” Peter said, with more emotion that he usually showed. “I do feel differently here, just like Will said. Maybe getting back in touch with a happier time in your life does that. I can see it’s happened for you,” he added.
“Yes, something has happened to me here. Something . . . important,” she said quietly. “You know, when I first came and started cleaning out the closets with Claire, I was surprised at how hard it was. I don’t mean physically. Emotionally,” she explained. “And Claire said, ‘Of course it’s hard. This is your past. It’s your family. It’s part of you.’ ” She looked up at her brother. “It’s part of you, too, Peter.”
He sipped at his coffee and nodded. “Yes, you’re right. I can see that now.”
“This old, broken-down house is the only link left to our past, our family,” Liza continued. “For me, it put me back in touch with some part of myself that I lost along the way. Maybe that’s why I feel so strongly about staying here, staying connected to that more hopeful, optimistic version of myself. It gives me a way to go back and start over,” she tried to explain.
“I understand,” he said quietly. “I mean, I really didn’t before, but I get it now, Liza.” He sighed. “I’ve been feeling the same thing but fighting it,” he admitted. “It’s definitely more than nostalgia. I got in touch with some buried part of myself, too. Some better version of me. Isn’t that what Will was trying to say last night?” Without waiting for her answer, he continued, “This place is a touchstone—all we have left of our folks, and of Elizabeth and Clive. I was wrong to think we could let someone come here and knock it down. Or even sell it,” he said finally. “The inn and the island are important to both of us. To all of us. I want Will to know this place and share it, too.”
Liza stared at him in disbelief. “Are you serious? You really mean that?”
“I do,” he said quickly. “You should stay here. You need this chance to start over, more than I need the money. We can figure that out. I want you to have a chance to center yourself and figure things out. I can see you’ve gotten in touch with something out here that’s been dormant a long time. I couldn’t take that from you now, Liza. What kind of a brother would I be to do that to you?”
Liza felt so overwhelmed with relief and gratitude that for a moment she couldn’t speak at all. “Thank you, Peter,” she said at last. “Thank you for understanding and for changing your mind.”
“Will likes it here, more than he ever thought. He doesn’t want us to sell it either. He wants to be able to come back here. He told me last night before he went to sleep. I think he really meant it, too.”
“I think he did,” Liza agreed, sending up a silent prayer of thanks for Will’s influence over his father and for Peter’s amazing change of heart.
“Someone is going to have to tell Fran Tulley,” Liza said quietly, trying to hide the grin that threatened to break out across her face, ear to ear.
“Yes . . . someone is. Someone named Peter Martin, I think,” her brother said with a resigned sigh. “Poor Fran. She worked so hard the last two weeks and finally reeled in a big fish for us. We’ll have to make it up to her somehow. Send her some flowers or something.”
“A free weekend at the Inn at Angel Island, our deluxe suite.”
“Our deluxe suite?” Peter gave her a look. “You have big plans, don’t you?”
“I do,” Liza said in a soft but firm voice. “I definitely do.”
For the first time in a long time, she felt very sure of things, what she wanted and where her life was going.
CLAIRE had arrived while they were talking in the parlor. Liza hadn’t even heard her come in but realized she was there when the warm, delicious smell of something baking beckoned.
“Something smells good.” Peter sniffed the air. “Shall we go investigate?”
Liza followed her brother to the kitchen. Claire stood by the open oven, checking a pan of dark brown muffins that smelled incredibly good.
“What are those ma
de of? Nectar of the gods?” Peter asked, teasing her.
Claire laughed. “Not quite. It’s a lot of good things, though, in the recipe. They’re called Morning Glory Muffins. Just let them cool a minute and you can try one.”
“I can’t wait,” Peter admitted, taking a seat at the table.
Liza glanced at him, and he seemed to read her mind. “We have some good news, Claire,” he began. “We’ve decided to keep the inn.”
Claire turned and looked at them each in turn, casting them a warm smile. “That is good news. Wonderful news. I’m very happy to hear it.”
“I’m going to stay here and run it,” Liza added. “I hope you’ll stay and help me, Claire. I don’t think I could do it without you.”
Claire met her glance. “Of course I’ll stay. I don’t think you could get rid of me now . . . short of knocking the place down.”
Liza laughed. She’d never heard Claire make a joke before—and actually, from the sparkle in the housekeeper’s blue eyes, Liza wasn’t entirely sure that Claire was joking.
Liza watched Claire beat some eggs in a bowl, working in her steady, competent way, and felt so utterly grateful for her friendship and loyalty. It felt like a gift. And maybe it was, she realized. A final gift from her dear aunt, who was always looking out for her, trying to guide her and help her grow.
Liza impulsively leaned over and gave the housekeeper a quick, fierce hug. “Thank you, Claire. Thank you for everything.”
Claire stepped back from the stove and hugged Liza back, then patted her arm. “I had a feeling it would all work out. I had a feeling your prayers would be answered,” she added.
Liza had never told Claire that she had prayed about the inn. But she didn’t question that Claire had guessed this and somehow knew.
Will appeared in the doorway, his thick dark hair tousled and his eyes still puffy from sleep.
“Hey, Will, what’s up?” his father said cheerfully, for once beating his son to the famous question.
Liza walked over to her nephew and slung her arm around his shoulder. “Going for any big bike rides today?” she teased.
Thomas Kinkade Page 29
