"Your mother thinks her sister is her daughter?" Kate asked, coming farther into the room and staring, fascinated, at the screen.
"Not my mother but Caitlin's mother."
"Isn't that a little far-fetched?"
"Not at all." He moved over to make room for her on the sofa and she sat down absently. "It makes perfect sense. You see, Caitlin's mother, whose name is Susan, was drugged by her father—"
"Caitlin's father?"
"No, Susan's father drugged her and hired a hypnotist to implant false memories of pregnancy and childbirth so when she came out of hypnosis she thought she'd had a baby."
"Did he have a reason for doing this or was it just a slow day?"
"The baby was actually his illegitimate child, fathered on a Gypsy fortune-teller who died in childbirth."
Kate dragged her eyes from the screen and stared at him. "You're making this up, aren't you?"
"Are you kidding? If I had enough imagination to make something like that up, I'd be writing screenplays and getting rich."
"How long have you been watching this show?"
"A couple of weeks. I leave it on in the background while I'm working."
"You found out all of that stuff about these characters in two weeks?" she asked, incredulous.
"No. Turns out that Laura's mother has been watching it for years. She came over to borrow something and recognized the theme music so she filled me in on the juicy details." He suddenly pointed to the screen where an actor with improbably perfect features and thick white hair was sitting at a desk looking thoughtful. "See that guy?"
"Don't tell me—he's married to his own mother but thinks she's actually his long-lost love who ran off to join the circus when she was a child."
Nick turned his head slowly and gave her a surprised look. "How did you know?"
Nick hadn't realized just how much he needed to have Kate sharing his bed until it happened. It wasn't just the sex, though that was certainly incredible. But even more than that, he'd needed to be able to touch her, hold her, feel the changes his child had made to her body.
He'd never felt this primal need to hold, to possess a woman before, and the strength of it made him uneasy. With Lisa, he'd wanted to care for her, to protect her. He wanted to protect Kate but he also wanted to know that she was his.
Not that sex had magically vanquished all the barriers between them, but it was a step in the right direction. Maybe she'd been as frustrated by their marriage in name only as he had, because she seemed to relax with him, let him inside at least some of the walls she'd thrown up for her own protection. She smiled more easily, laughed more often.
"What are these doing in here?"
Nick had been shaving. At Kate's question, he glanced over to see her holding up a box of Band-Aids. He arched one brow in surprise.
"Did you catch them doing something illicit?"
"No. But I don't understand what they're doing here." She sounded genuinely puzzled.
Nick frowned at her. "Why shouldn't they be there?"
"It just seems kind of odd, that's all." She glanced at him and he thought he saw laughter in her eyes but she looked away too quickly for him to be sure.
"What's odd about it?" he asked, confused. He picked up a washcloth and wiped the last of the shaving cream from his jaw. "It seems fairly normal to keep first-aid supplies in the bathroom."
"Yes, but for you?" She lifted one shoulder. "I figured that, if you cut yourself, you'd—you know— wave a magic wand and the cut would just go away."
She looked at him again, and there was no mistaking the mischief in her eyes.
Nick stared at her, his mind blank with shock. My God, she was teasing him about his ability to heal! Since the day he'd discovered his gift, he couldn't remember anyone ever referring to it in normal conversation, let alone joking about it. His family had always treated it as a secret—not something to be ashamed of but certainly not something to joke about.
When he didn't say anything, Kate's smile faded and her fingers tightened over the metal box. What an idiot! She couldn't believe she'd mentioned his gift, especially when she knew it was a source of conflict for him. It had been an impulse—a bad one, obviously.
"Nick, I didn't..I! wasn't think—"
His shout of laughter cut her apology off in midword. It was probably more laughter than the fairly mild joke deserved, but it was the first time he'd ever laughed about his ability to heal. It felt wonderful. If he'd known how good it would feel, he'd have laughed about it years ago.
"Thank you." He hooked his hand around the back of her neck and dragged her close so that he could kiss her thoroughly.
"You're welcome," Kate said when he released her. "What did I do?"
"You made me laugh."
Kate started to say something but the chime of the doorbell interrupted them. "Oh, no! That must be Brenda." She hurried into the bedroom, grabbed a hairbrush off the dresser and began dragging it through her hair. "I told her I was taking the truck in for a tune-up and she said she'd pick me up today."
"You two doing okay?" Nick asked, following at a more leisurely pace.
Kate's hand faltered for a moment. When her engagement to Gareth had come to such an untidy ending, her friendship with Brenda had been an unexpected casualty. Brenda had had a hard time understanding how Kate could so completely betray Gareth. There was still a slight distance between them but she thought they were getting past it. Nick knew about the rift and knew how much it bothered her.
"I think we're going to be okay," she told him and hoped she wasn't wrong. She picked up one shoe and looked around for the other one. "Could you get the door and tell her I'll be there in a minute?"
"Sure." Nick left the room and she heard him running down the stairs.
The missing shoe was halfway under the bed. She put it on, grabbed a scarf to tie her hair and hurried from the bedroom. A glance at her watch confirmed that Brenda was early—a practically unheard of event.
She'd expected Brenda to be in the entry way, or in the kitchen watching Nick make coffee. But the entryway was empty. As she reached the bottom of the stairs, Nick came out of the living room.
"It isn't Brenda," he said. Something in his expression made her uneasy, and she hesitated on the last stair.
"Who is it?"
"He says he's your father."
Kate felt the bottom drop out of her stomach and her fingers clenched over the wooden banister. She looked past Nick to the man who'd come to stand behind him. He was nearly as tall as Nick, though his shoulders weren't as broad. His hair was dark, his features even, his eyes a dark gray-blue. He looked familiar and yet totally alien standing here in this house that she'd come to think of as her home.
"Hello, Katie." He smiled, delighted to see her.
"Dad." The acting skills she'd developed in a lifetime of pretending weren't enough to put any warmth in her voice. She saw Nick's eyes sharpen with question as she left the illusory safety of the stairs and went to greet the father she'd hoped never to see again.
Chapter 17
His curiosity aroused, Nick turned to watch Kate greet her father. She accepted the older man's hug but did not return it, stepping back the moment his arms loosened.
"What a surprise," she said. "I thought you were in Seattle.''
"I was, but the work there was running out and I figured it was time to move on." He chuckled, his blue eyes sparkling with humor as he looked at her. "You know how I am."
"Yes. I do." Kate turned to Nick, her expression revealing none of her father's amusement. "I assume you two have already met," she said.
"More or less." Nick came forward to take the hand she'd held out. The gesture surprised him. Despite the new closeness that had grown between them, outside the bedroom she rarely reached out to him. He suspected it was a measure of how much her father's unexpected visit disturbed her that she'd done so now.
"I introduced myself," David Moran said, smiling at Nick. "You wrote and told me you
were engaged but I didn't think the wedding was coming up this soon."
Nick felt Kate stiffen. Obviously, her father knew nothing about her broken engagement and abrupt change of groom. "I rushed Kate into marriage," he said easily, glancing at her. "We ran off to Vegas."
"Vegas, huh?" David's smile widened. "That's where her mother and I were married. I guess that makes it something of a family tradition, doesn't it, Katie?"
"It would seem so." Her smile was perfunctory. There was an awkward little silence. Nick wondered if he should suggest that they go sit down, rather than stand around awkwardly, but he hesitated in the face of Kate's cool response to her father. She didn't look as if she wanted to do anything that might prolong the visit. Still, they could hardly stand here like a bunch of statuary. He put his arm around Kate's shoulders and drew her against his side, ignoring her stiffness.
"I was about to make some coffee," he said. "Would you like some?"
"I wouldn't say no to a cup," David said. Then he looked at Kate, his expression oddly hesitant. "As long as it won't be too much trouble."
"It's no trouble at all," she said. She smiled and Nick thought he could feel the effort it cost her. He felt her hook her fingers through the belt loop on his jeans as if she needed something to hold onto. "But I should warn you, Nick uses any leftover coffee as paint stripper."
"Sounds good to me," David said. His tone was a bit too hearty, and Nick's curiosity sharpened. Just what was going on?
A change of setting didn't do anything to dispel the tension between Kate and her father. While he made coffee, he tried to keep the conversational ball rolling because it was clear that, if he didn't do it, no one would. As it was, Kate's contribution to the conversation consisted of a few strained smiles and an occasional comment. David Moran was more forthcoming, though he didn't seem any more at ease than his daughter.
He seemed to have left Seattle on a whim, without a particular destination in mind. He was thinking about going to Texas or maybe Michigan and hadn't decided yet. "I've saved up a few dollars so I don't have to make any quick decisions. A friend of mine has a job lined up for me in Saginaw, but I hear they're building in Texas again so I might go there first. 'Course, summer isn't exactly the best time of year to be visiting Houston." He glanced at Kate, smiling. "Remember the summer we spent in Galveston? You were about eight, I think. You and your mother spent quite a bit of time on the beach."
"I remember." The memory didn't seem to bring her any pleasure. "It was after Miami and before Tucson. Mama liked Galveston."
"So she did." David's smile faded and he looked at his hands. They were strong hands, long-fingered and supple—an artist's hands, Nick thought. When he looked up, his smile was back in place. "She liked Tucson just fine, though. Said it was a good place to spend the winter."
"She never complained," Kate said expressionlessly, leaving the flat statement open to interpretation.
Nick saw her glance at the clock and guessed she was counting the minutes until Brenda arrived and put an end to this meeting. He couldn't blame her. The undercurrents in the room were strong enough to pull under an Olympic-class swimmer.
"Kate said you're a carpenter," he said, hoping to move the conversation onto neutral territory, not an easy task when he didn't know what war was being fought.
"That's right. I do finish work, some custom cabinetry, things like that. The pay's good and I can usually find work without too much trouble."
"While you're here, maybe you could give me some suggestions about some of the work around here. I'm more of a handyman than anything else and I'd—"
"Actually, Nick is an architect—a very good one," Kate interrupted. From her tone, it was difficult to tell whether she was praising him or throwing his degree out as a challenge. Nick couldn't begin to guess which it might be.
"Is that so?" David said, looking interested.
"More or less. I haven't done any designing recently, though." Nick turned to get cups out, grateful for something to do. He felt like he was walking through a minefield—one wrong step and the situation would blow up in his face. He set the cups down and looked at Kate. "Do you want me to put water on so you can boil some weeds for tea?"
"Weeds?" David raised a questioning brow.
"Herb tea," Nick said, grinning at Kate. It was an ongoing joke between them.
"I gave up caffeine a couple of years ago," Kate lied calmly. "It was making me uptight. Nick doesn't approve."
"I just think the stuff tastes like wash water." He picked up her lead immediately and saw her eyes flicker with relief and something that might have been gratitude. He added another question to the growing mental list he was keeping. Why didn't she want her father to know she was pregnant?
Kate looked at the clock again. This time, as if in answer to a prayer, the doorbell rang.
"That will be Brenda," she said immediately and even managed not to sound openly relieved. She looked at her father. "My truck is in the shop so my boss is picking me up this morning."
"Nice boss," he said.
"Yes, she is. I'm sorry to cut this short."
"That's okay." David straightened away from the counter he'd been leaning against. "I should have called before I came over. I knew it was a bit early to be dropping in but I was anxious to see you."
"Will you be staying in town long?" Kate asked, avoiding any direct response to his comment.
"I haven't made any plans." He smiled. "You know me—always going where the wind blows me."
"Yes. I remember." For just a moment, her expression was chill and then she gave him another of those quick, meaningless smiles. "We'll have to get together for dinner while you're here," she said as if she was talking to a casual acquaintance.
"I'd like that," David said eagerly.
The doorbell rang again.
"I have to go," she said.
"Not without a kiss," Nick said lightly, catching her hand and pulling her. Their eyes met, his searching, hers shuttered. He had a thousand questions but this was not the time to ask them. Resigning himself to frustration, he dropped a kiss on her mouth.
She was gone the moment he released her, and Nick looked after her thoughtfully. Considering the tension between them, he was a little surprised she'd been willing to leave him alone with her father. He wondered if he should be flattered that she trusted him that much or if it was just a measure of her desperate need to escape. His gaze shifted to his father-in-law. The older man was looking after his daughter with such an expression of pain that Nick looked away, feeling as if he'd intruded on something private. He felt as if he'd been dropped into the middle of a play without the least idea of what the plot might be.
Just what was going on between Kate and her father?
Nick didn't get a chance to talk to Kate alone until after dinner. Harry joined them for the meal, as he almost always did. Nick thought it was interesting that Kate didn't mention her father's unexpected visit to Harry. Was she hoping David Moran would leave as abruptly as he'd appeared, without her having to acknowledge his presence to anyone? If he hadn't happened to be home this morning, would she even have told him about her father's visit?
He waited until Harry had gone to the guest house, leaving them alone, before he broached the subject.
"You want to tell me what was going on this morning?" he asked as he snagged a flour-sack towel from the rack and picked up a dish to dry.
"I don't know what you mean." Kate didn't look at him as she rinsed another plate under running water and set it in the drainer. "You don't have to do that. They'll air dry just fine."
"It gives me something to do while we talk."
"I don't want to talk about my father," she said flatly. She dropped a fistful of silverware into the sink, letting it clatter against the porcelain as if punctuating her statement.
"There's obviously a problem—" he began, but she cut him off ruthlessly.
"If there is, then it's my problem."
Nick finished drying a
plate and set it on the counter before reaching for a glass. He let the silence stretch while he debated whether or not to push. She'd said she didn't want to talk about her father and that should be an end of it. And yet... And yet, he couldn't shake the feeling that, whatever it was, it should be brought out in the open.
"Did he stay long?" she asked abruptly, almost as if against her will.
"Half an hour or so."
"Did you— What did you talk about?" Every word seemed pulled from her. She didn't look at him but kept her eyes on the fork she was washing as if the fate of the world depended on it being perfectly clean.
She was obviously upset, and Nick would have given a great deal to be able to comfort her, but there wasn't much he could do when he didn't know what was wrong.
"We talked about the work on the house," he told her. "He obviously knows his stuff. I didn't tell him about the baby, if that's what you're worried about."
She shrugged. "It doesn't matter, I guess."
"It seemed to matter this morning."
"I was...surprised to see him and I guess I overreacted."
"Actually, I think the word should be under-reacted. I've seen people greet IRS agents with more enthusiasm." Nick was careful to keep any hint of criticism from his tone, but Kate's head came up, her eyes bright with anger when she looked at him.
"I don't owe him anything,'" she said fiercely.
"I didn't say you did."
"Not everyone has a close family like yours." She was very much on the defensive.
"I know that." He tossed the towel over the edge of the drainer and leaned one hip against the counter, watching her. "You want to tell me about it?"
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