Summer Reads Box Set, Books 4-6

by Freethy, Barbara

  "Don't go there, Cole." Natalie put her hand on his arm, knowing she had to stop him right there. "Don't do this to yourself."

  His eyes opened and he gave her a long, searching gaze. "Did you see her that night? Did you see her before they covered her up?"

  Natalie tried to swallow, but there was a huge lump in her throat as she remembered the crowd of people gathered in the yard, everyone screaming and crying. Madison had her by the hand. She'd pulled her out of the bathroom and down the stairs saying they had to get to Emily. But no one would let them through. Finally, they got to the front. Natalie saw Cole kneeling beside his sister. Dylan and Josh hovered on the other side, watching the paramedics try to save her life, but it was too late. She had died on impact.

  "The only thing I could see," she said haltingly, "was Em's beautiful brown hair spread across the white cement the way it used to spread across her pillow when she slept." She tightened her grip on his arm, feeling the need to hang on to him. "I couldn't get closer to her than that. I couldn't even believe it was happening. It seemed like a nightmare. For weeks I kept trying to wake up."

  "Me, too," he said huskily, putting his hand behind her head and pulling her close. He rested his forehead against hers. "I still want to wake up, but I can't. I'm stuck there. I think I've moved on and then something yanks me right back. How do I let go?"

  "I don't know." They'd tried to run, but the past had hunted them down with a vengeance.

  "I can't go through it again," he murmured. "I can't lose my mother, too." He pulled away so she could see his face. "That year after Emily died, I was afraid every second that my mother would hurt herself or just give up on living. I felt helpless to make it better. What if the same thing happens now? What if she can't get past this?"

  Natalie felt her heart opening up to Cole. His honesty, his trust to confide in her touched her deeply. She knew these were words he couldn't say to anyone else, and she was honored that he'd said them to her. She just wished she could make him feel better. "Your mom made it then, and she'll make it now," she said with conviction. "People are stronger than you think, especially mothers. And she still has you."

  "Small consolation. Emily was the light of her life. I always knew that. I wasn't jealous. Emily was special. I understood that."

  "Emily was special, but so are you, and I know that you have a big piece of your mother's heart. She used to tell me how smart you were, how proud she was of you."

  "No, she didn't," he said skeptically.

  "She did. That Christmas I spent at your house, we went through the home movies one night. You'd gone out with your dad somewhere, but your mom, Emily, and I watched the movies and talked about you. They both knew I was falling madly in love with you, and they wanted me to know you were an incredible guy. But they didn't have to convince me. I already knew that."

  His mouth curved into a reluctant smile. "Now you're shoveling it on. I'm sure your opinion of me changed in the weeks after that Christmas when I treated you like shit."

  "Of course it did. You really pissed me off," she said candidly. "But we've both had a few years to gain some clarity." And those years of clarity made her let go of Cole's arm and sit back in her seat.

  "You must be a great doctor," Cole commented. "You have a hell of a bedside manner. I feel better."

  "Good. Since I'm now acting as your doctor, I have a prescription for you."

  "So we're playing doctor now?" he asked, lightening the mood with his teasing question.

  "Very funny. No, I think you were right when you said you needed a break."

  "I know I said that, but it isn't a good idea. There's so much to do. My father is probably on the phone right now to the police department. I need to check in again with my investigator. I need to track down Dylan, and—"

  "You can do all that later. You should go home, take a nap, watch a sporting event on TV, or since it's you, turn on one of the news channels and let your mind go."

  "What about you? What are you going to do?"

  "I don't know," she said. "Do you think the reporters will have left?"

  "Doubtful. They'll wait a while to make sure we don't circle back."

  "Great."

  They sat silently for a few minutes; then Cole said, "I have an idea. Do you feel like being anonymous for a while?"

  "More than I want to take my next breath."

  Cole glanced over at her and smiled. "We could play tourist in San Francisco, do all the things locals never do. I bet you've spent most of the past few years inside the hospital walls. Am I right?"

  "You might be."

  He nodded. "I knew it. Let's go." Cole started the car.

  "Go where?"

  "Well, first we need to get a disguise."

  His words made her think of the disguise they'd found in Malone's room, and she felt guilty at the thought of taking some time off from the problem at hand. But the last few days, and especially the last few minutes, had been emotionally draining. She needed some fresh air, some wind in her face. Maybe she'd be able to think more clearly after a time-out.

  * * *

  A San Francisco Giants baseball cap covered her glorious red hair, a pair of dark sunglasses concealed her eyes and a large gray sweatshirt made her look ten pounds heavier, but Cole still thought Natalie was the prettiest woman he'd ever seen. Actually, that wasn't completely true. While he was no doubt attracted to her body, he was also fascinated by the rest of her: the sharpness of her mind, the generosity of her spirit, the tenderness of her smile. She was a complicated woman—driven, ambitious, an achiever, tough when she had to be, and yet sometimes he saw the lingering remnants of a lonely girl who just wanted someone to love her the way she deserved to be loved. He'd once been that man. He'd blown it big-time, and he'd hurt her. She didn't have to tell him that. He knew. He'd known it a long time ago.

  Natalie leaned over the railing to look at the water below. They were taking the Blue and Gold Ferry to Alcatraz. It was a chilly October day, especially here on the water, but Natalie seemed to be enjoying the fresh air. She looked more relaxed now than he'd seen her in a long time.

  On impulse, he put his arm around her. She looked up, giving him a questioning glance, but she didn't move away. If he was going to take an inch, he might as well take a yard, he decided, drawing her closer to his body. "This is better," he said with a grin. "I was getting cold."

  "That's the best line you've got? Ten years as San Francisco's most eligible bachelor, and you're using the 'I'm cold' line. Not very impressive, Cole."

  Trust Natalie to call him on it. She'd never been an easy woman. Although she'd been easier at nineteen than she was now. It was funny. He almost liked her better now, because of her toughness, her confidence in herself, her unwillingness to be led. A strange tightness took over his chest, and he was struck by the ridiculous thought that he might be falling in love with her again. No, he told himself, it was just the challenge of being with a woman who didn't suck up to him all the time. That was what he was enjoying. It wasn't love.

  God! He didn't even think the word love was in his vocabulary. Where had that come from? He didn't intend to love anyone in any kind of permanent way. Sex, friendship, that was all he needed, all he wanted. And Natalie would never be content with that. Would she?

  Maybe she would. Maybe sex and friendship would fit right into her busy lifestyle. Maybe that's exactly what she would want.

  "Cole," Natalie said, interrupting his thoughts, which was probably a good thing, "you haven't said a word in about five minutes. It was a joke, you know, about the 'I'm cold' line."

  "I know." He slid her in front of him, wrapped his arms around her waist, and rested his chin on the top of her head as they stared at the island of Alcatraz growing bigger with each passing minute. "Have you ever been on the island?" he asked.

  "Never."

  "It must have been hell on earth for the inmates who lived there, but it's actually one of the prettiest spots around. There are incredible views
from the prisoners' yard."

  "So they were doubly tortured," Natalie said. "They could see exactly what they couldn't have. That must have driven them crazy."

  Cole was beginning to feel the same way. Being with Natalie, holding her in his arms, breathing in the scent of her skin was making him want her with an almost overwhelming need. He couldn't have her, not just because of their history, but because of their present. His family held her responsible for Emily's death. They would never accept her as his girlfriend, his lover, his... anything. And he couldn't choose her over them, even if he had the choice, which he didn't. Natalie didn't want him anymore. Sure, there were a few lingering sparks, but that was probably true for any two people who'd once been lovers, especially when that love had been a first love, a powerful love. What the hell was wrong with him? That was three loves in one thought. He was definitely losing it.

  "My mother almost went to prison once," Natalie said, surprising him with that abrupt turn in the conversation.

  "For what?"

  "One of her boyfriends robbed a liquor store. She was in the car, passed out. Fortunately, being that drunk got her off from being an accessory to the crime."

  "Where were you at the time?" he asked, feeling a decided dislike for Natalie's mother.

  "I was studying in the library after school. I spent hours there. It was a safe place, you know. I knew who I was at school—a good student, someone who could succeed—and I loved the structure. The bells rang every hour. I knew where I had to be, and what I had to do. When I went home, life was a lot more unpredictable."

  He planted a tender kiss on the nape of her neck. "I'm sorry," he murmured.

  "It's not your fault. I don't even know why I told you that." She paused. "My mother wasn't a bad person. She was just weak and sick. Drinking made everything worse. I don't know why I ever took a drink, Cole. I knew it was wrong. I knew it would ruin me and the people around me. I had firsthand experience." She twisted around in his arms so that she was facing him now. "I thought I could handle it. I could be different. I was stronger than my mother." She shook her head. "But in those moments, I was just as weak. I'll never be that way again."

  "I believe you. Everyone makes mistakes."

  "That's not what you said before," she reminded him with a sad smile.

  "I thought I knew everything back then. I was wrong, too." He pushed a piece of her hair behind her ear and smiled. "Now I know how you got so smart. All that time in the school library."

  "I love learning new things, but I'm almost completely done with my education, my on-the-job training. It's a little hard to believe that I almost have everything I ever wanted." A cloud passed through her eyes. "Unless..."

  She didn't have to finish her thought. He knew what she was thinking—unless this book destroyed her career, the life she had built for herself.

  "I'm a little surprised you chose to work in the emergency room," he said, trying to distract her. "It doesn't sound very structured or organized, the kind of environment you said you prefer. Why didn't you pick something less stressful?"

  "It is organized in a weird way. It's like chaos contained. You never know what's going to come through those double doors when the ambulances pull up, sirens screaming, people crying. But the madness stays there. Or at least that's where I leave it. When I go home, I'm done with it. I realized a long time ago that I'm bad at relationships."

  "That's not true—"

  She put her hands on his chest, stopping him with a smile. "It is true. After Emily died, after the group split up, I shied away from making new friends. I didn't want to get close to anyone else. When I had to choose a specialty, I realized that if I were a pediatrician, I'd have to get to know families. They'd come to count on me. They'd share their lives with me. I'd watch their kids grow up. I'd become attached. What if I messed up then? What if I let them down? In the ER I don't have to deal with the person, only with their physical problems. I can think of my patients as the broken arm, the head laceration, the burned right hand. I don't even have to know their names or where they live or what their backgrounds are. It's safer that way."

  "You changed your specialty because of what happened to Emily?" he asked with surprise.

  "It had something to do with it, I guess. It was definitely a turning point in my life."

  "Mine, too." The boat suddenly rocked against the dock and Cole realized they'd landed at the island. "Ready for some exploring?" he asked.

  "Absolutely."

  They got off the boat and began the trek up to the top of the island where the jail was located. It was a long, uphill walk that they took at a fast pace. They started out strolling; then Cole walked faster, just to see if Natalie would try to keep up, and of course she did. By the time they reached the very top, they were running and short of breath.

  "You have to make everything a race," she said to him with a laugh.

  "It takes two to race," he said, appreciating the sparkle in her eyes.

  "Thank God you made me buy running shoes. I'd never have made it up here in my high heels." She looked around and waved her hand at the scene. "You were right. This is an incredible view."

  He had to agree. The breeze had blown away all the clouds, and San Francisco spread out before them like a picture postcard. He could see the Transamerica Pyramid with its steep point towering above the other buildings; Coit Tower, a building in the shape of a fireman's hose that sat on the rolling hills above North Beach; and the colorful boats and piers that dotted the waterfront. He'd spent so much time thinking about getting out of this city that it surprised him now to feel such a strong connection to it. This was his city. His family had lived here for four generations. His roots were here. Hell, he was here. And it didn't look like he was leaving anytime soon. He waited for the yearning to twist his gut into a familiar knot, but it didn't come. Why hadn't it come? It always came.

  "Shall we take the tour?" Natalie asked, interrupting his thoughts.

  "We could just walk around."

  "Then we won't learn anything about the prison or the island, unless you know it all."

  He made a face at her. "I don't, but that sounds a lot like school to me."

  "It does, doesn't it?" she said with an eagerness that made him laugh.

  "Fine, we'll buy the tour. I think we can pick up the headphones over there."

  An hour later Cole was glad they'd purchased the guided tour. He'd found the story of the prison and its inmates fascinating, and it had been interesting to see which of the small cells had belonged to which prisoners. The prison was certainly a bleak, horrible place to spend a lifetime. He couldn't imagine what those men had gone through, being trapped on the island. And he couldn't help wondering if the escapees who had never been found had actually made it to freedom or had been drowned by the swirling currents around the island, as the tour guide suggested.

  "We should do a feature on the island," he said, as they walked back out into the sunlight an hour later. "Maybe do some investigation into those escapees. I wonder if any of their families are still alive." He realized that Natalie was staring at him with a knowing smile. "What?"

  "You're supposed to be taking a break, and you're working up a news story in your head."

  "Hardly news, and I'm afraid it's just ingrained in me."

  "You always had a curious mind. I loved that about you," Natalie said.

  "Loved? As in past tense?"

  "Okay, I like it about you now," she amended.

  "Like is not the same as love."

  "I don't think we want to talk about love, Cole. Hey, I think there's a boat about to leave. Shall we head back now?"

  He hesitated, then nodded. She was right. Love was not a subject he wanted to get into with Natalie. "Sure. What do you want to do next?" he asked as they walked back to the ferry.

  "I want to eat fresh crab on the wharf, or maybe order some clam chowder in one of those French bread bowls. I want to get ice cream in a waffle cone, watch the seals by Pier 39 and
take a cable car ride up the steepest hills in San Francisco."

  "Are you done?"

  There was pure joy in the sound of her laugh. "Sorry, but you asked, and I think you created a monster when you suggested we play tourist."

  "I like you like this," he said approvingly.

  "I like me like this, too," she replied. "You always brought out this side in me. I'd almost forgotten what it feels like to relax and have fun. Thanks."

  He leaned over and kissed her on the mouth, tasting the salt of the nearby sea on her lips. "Don't thank me yet. We've got a lot to do, and if you think this was fun, you ain't seen nothing yet."

  Chapter Fourteen

  Natalie dug her bare toes into the cool, moist sand on Ocean Beach and sighed with pure satisfaction. After riding the cable cars and stuffing themselves on an assortment of foods, they'd driven out to the beach and had taken up residence against the base of a cliff that ran along the Great Highway to watch the sun go down. "I love this time of the day," she said to Cole. "It's an in-between time. It reminds me of a story Emily used to tell us." She stopped abruptly, realizing she'd just brought up Emily's name. "Sorry."

  "Don't stop."

  "We agreed we wouldn't talk about the book."

  "We're not. We're talking about Emily. Tell me the story." Cole stretched out on his side. He played with the sand, scooping it up, and then letting it sift through his fingers.

  "It was about fairies and gremlins that lived in the in-between places like doorways and windows, and they all came out to play at the in-between times—the moments between day and dusk—and the biggest in-between time of all: midnight. Emily said if we looked really close we might see them." Natalie laughed, feeling a bit silly for even relating the story to Cole. "Not that I ever believed it, but it was a good story. Emily used to tell it at night. She'd light a candle, and we'd sit in the dark and tell stories or share secrets. It was easier to see shadows dancing in the doorways in the candlelight. I'm sure that sounds pretty wild to a pragmatic man like yourself."