Blindside (30 page)

She sighed, thinking about her home. Gone, nothing left at all. She had no idea what she was going to do yet and was still just too tired to think about it coherently.

“I think it’s a good idea, Katie, what we talked about.”

She jerked up. Miles was talking about marriage, she knew that even though neither of them had said another thing about it since early Thursday morning. She said, “It’s a huge thing, Miles, a really huge thing.”

“You lost your house.”

“Yeah, I was just thinking about that.”

“I’ve got a house, a really big house, and there’s lots of room, for all of us. It’s colonial. Do you like colonial?”

“Yes,” she said, nothing more, and continued not to look at him.

Miles looked over at Sam and Keely, who were sitting on the living room floor, their jeaned legs spread wide, rolling three red balls back and forth between them. They were evidently trying to keep the balls inside their legs.

“You hit it too hard, Sam!”

Sam said, as he batted a ball back to her, “Pay attention, Keely.”

“My God, he said that just like I do,” Miles said. “This parent thing, it’s scary when your kid mimics you. Say yes, Katie.”

“Say yes to what, Mama?”

Suddenly both small faces were concentrated on them. Miles shrugged at Katie who sighed and nodded. “Okay, what do you guys think of Katie and me getting married? Not that she’s said yes yet. That way you’d be brother and sister and you could stay together.” And that, Katie thought, was the primary reason for getting married, and not a bad reason, really. At least both of them would be motivated to make a happy home for their children. Sam would be hers. And that kiss, she’d felt it all the way to her size nines. The man was potent. That made her smile, but it fell off her face pretty fast. Married, after knowing a man a week.

No, not married.
Remarried.

Katie had sworn she’d never get married again as long as there was enough breath in her lungs to say no. It was simple, really, she couldn’t trust herself to choose wisely. Just look at what she’d brought home the first time—Carlo Silvestri, a weak, spoiled jerk whose father had paid her a million and a half bucks to get out of his life. Hmm. At least that was a pretty good trade-off. Carlo’s father had saved the pulp mill and a lot of people’s jobs. And of course, Carlo had given her Keely—she’d put up with a dozen jerks for Keely.

The fact was, bottom line, she didn’t know Miles well. Not even a complete week, and those days had been filled with nonstop fear and violence and adrenaline rushes so extreme that Katie was ready to swear that her blood sugar had plummeted to her toes because there hadn’t been a life-and-death crisis since the McCamy house burned down, its two occupants with it.

What was a woman with no house to do? Marry a man who did have a house? A colonial?

It was funny if you looked at it a certain way. She’d saved a little boy, his dad had come to town, lots of bad things had happened, and now he wanted her to marry him. Truth be told, it was the children who’d started it. She’d wished now that they hadn’t heard Sam and Keely talking on the porch, but of course that was what her mother had intended.

Then again, she couldn’t forget those minutes in her kitchen. Fact was, she’d wanted to jump him; he’d felt just that good.

Both children were staring from Miles to her and back again. Sam said slowly, “You guys going to get married?”

“As I said, Sam, she hasn’t said yes yet. So, what do you think? Keely?”

“Mama, I’ve given this a lot of thought and I think it’s a really good idea.”

“Keely, Miles only told you two minutes ago, not all that much time to think about it.”

Keely slid a glance at Sam, who grinned like a kid who’d just copped an early look at his Christmas presents.

“Keely and I talked about it,” Sam announced. “And we think it would be okay.”

“This is the way to go, Mama. We’re right about this.”

It was Miles and Katie’s turn to stare, both at each other and at their children. Miles said slowly, “How can you be so sure? You kids didn’t even know each other existed until last Saturday afternoon.”

Both children gave them a look like, So what’s your point?

Miles felt pumped, ready to take on the world. He knew to his soul that he wanted to do this. “Katie, what do you say? Let’s do it. No reason not to.” Knew even deeper that making love with Katie, watching her laugh and love his son, was the right thing.

Katie jumped to her feet, startling everyone. “Okay, guys, listen up. This is a huge decision for all of us. I’m going to think what this would mean before I commit to anything, you hear me? Sam, your father is going to be doing some heavy-duty thinking, too. You and Keely will have to be patient, and not pressure either your father or me into this.”

Yeah, right, Miles thought, looking at his son.

SUNDAY NIGHT

GEORGETOWN, WASHINGTON, D.C.

After the most delicious spinach lasagna Miles could remember, sautéed winter squash, and a Caesar salad, hot dogs and chips and a token salad for Sam and Sean, Savich handed Miles a cup of coffee, black, no sugar. “Sit down, Miles. You still look pretty wrung out.”

“Nah, not really. Promise me you made the coffee, Savich.”

Savich grinned. “Oh yeah. I’ve taught Sherlock just about everything I know, but coffee still defeats her.”

Sherlock called out from the kitchen, “Did I hear my name being maligned?”

“Not at all,” Miles called back. “You make a mean salad, all that feta cheese you add makes it really good, but, and I have to be honest here, you just don’t have the same knack with coffee that your husband has, which is amazing since he rarely drinks it.”

“No one said you had to be honest,” Sherlock said, coming into the living room. She handed Savich a cup of tea, fresh-brewed.

“Thanks.” He took a sip, closed his eyes in bliss.

“I like your pirate face, Miles,” Sherlock said, “with all those little tape pieces. It’s sexy.”

“You never said my back was sexy,” Savich said.

She actually shuddered. “No, but I will once I stop shaking.” She added to Miles, “He’s much better, but it’s going to take another week before he can stretch without worrying his back is going to break open.”

Savich and Sherlock sat across from Miles, listening with half an ear to Sean talking a blue streak to Sam, not much of it comprehensible, but Sam seemed to understand enough. He was rolling blocks to Sean, then helping Sean roll them back to him. They were in the designated kid part of the living room, where toys and chaos could reign without adults tripping over a stray ball and breaking a neck.

Sherlock looked sleek in black slacks and a black lace top, her curly red hair flying about, her eyes blue as a summer sky. Miles saw Savich grinning at her like a fool, sighed, and thought yet again of Katie.

It had been nearly a day and a half since he’d seen her. Those thirty hours felt like a decade.

“They’re still getting lots of rain in eastern Tennessee,” Miles said. “I’ll tell you, it kept me real alert flying out of Ackerman’s Air Field, what with the rain coming down so hard. They’ve got several storms lined up with little respite in between. Katie and her crew were up to their noses in mud and downed wires, not to mention all the accidents, the odd cow bawling in the middle of the road, mail soaked because some kids poked holes in some mailboxes.”

“Sounds like she has her hands full, all right,” Savich said and leaned forward so Sherlock could lightly scratch around the wound in his back.

Miles sat back and closed his eyes. Things were really bad and he didn’t see how anything could get better. His guts hurt. Sam’s guts hurt. Cracker kept asking what was wrong with him. He’d stomped around his office at the plant like a wounded rhino even though there were very few employees there to see it on a Sunday afternoon. Then he’d gone back home and stomped some more.

Even though Sam was safe, he sure wasn’t sound, but it was really early yet. As for himself, he felt like he’d left unfinished business he wasn’t in a position to finish, and that sucked, big time.

Miles muttered something under his breath, his eyes still closed, and Sherlock figured they were better off not knowing what he’d said.

Savich raised an eyebrow at him.

Miles said, “It’s been a day and a half, well, maybe a bit more than thirty hours now. Isn’t that amazing?”

“Yes,” Sherlock said, “absolutely amazing. Now, you’re moping, Miles.” She lowered her voice just a bit and moved her chair closer. “Sam and Sean are distracted. Tell us what’s going on here.”

He cocked open an eye and said, “Yesterday morning I asked Katie to marry me and she turned me down.”

Both of them stared at him.

Sherlock said slowly, “You’re saying you asked a woman to marry you after—what was it?—not even a complete and full week after meeting her?”

“That’s about the size of it,” Miles said. “Damned woman. What could I do? I even asked her about architecture and she said she liked colonials.”

Sherlock lightly laid her hand on Savich’s leg. “I’ve never had much to do with colonials—they’re not what you’d call thick on the ground on the West Coast. Fact is, I would have married Dillon after three days, if he’d only known I was alive, colonial or not.”

Savich said, “Oh, I knew, I knew.” He clasped her hand and said, “You’re not remembering things exactly right, sweetheart. You were so cut off from everyone at the time, including me, until finally, you happened to spend that night here, with me, and then . . . Miles has heard all of that story he’s ever going to hear.”

Miles looked over to see Sean stuffing a graham cracker into his mouth. “I can pretend I haven’t heard any of it and you could give me some pointers, Savich.” He paused a moment, then said, shaking his head, “Isn’t it strange how Sam looks like me and Sean looks just like you?”

Sherlock said, “So much for the indomitable X chromosome.” Then she added, “So, Katie turned you down?”

“Yeah, I suppose because it’s been only a week. Too soon, really, just too soon. She wanted to think about it. I guess maybe I agreed with that. I don’t think she ever had a gun out of her hand. Strange time. She’s really pretty. Did you notice that?”

Savich nodded, smiling, and said, “How long does she want to think about it? Did she give you any hope at all?”

Miles shrugged. “I don’t know. We didn’t set a time, but I’ll tell you, Sam and I aren’t doing so well.”

“You miss her?”

“Well, yes, and Keely, but it’s Sam I’m really worried about.”

“What, nightmares? Surely you’ve got him seeing a child shrink. What does the doctor say?”

“No, no nightmares,” Miles said. “It’s Keely. He’s miserable without Keely. I’m telling you, those two kids bonded instantly. I’ve never seen anything like it. It was a nightmare separating them. Katie and I both felt like monsters, and there’s Katie’s mom, looking at us like she wanted to carry the pitchfork as she led the villagers. Sam is speaking to me now, but he’s miserable, too quiet—not sulking, just unhappy. I’m beginning to think it’s not going to go away.”

“It’s only been a little over a day, Miles,” Sherlock said.

Savich said, “So what does the shrink say?”

“Evidently Dr. Jones called Dr. Raines in Jessborough and that’s why she agreed to see Sam this morning.”

“So what did she say?”

“She said I should do anything to get Katie to marry me.”

They all laughed. Sam looked up, frowned at them, and went back to helping Sean build a block fort, which wasn’t going too well since Sean would yell and give it a karate chop when it got three blocks high.

“So what are you going to do?” Sherlock asked.

Miles sat forward. “You know,” he said slowly, “maybe it’s time I was a buccaneer.”

“What’s a buccaneer, Papa?”

“So you heard that, did you?” Sam, holding Sean’s hand, was standing next to his father. “He’s learned he has to be real quiet if he wants to eavesdrop.”

“Tell us, Papa.”

That serious, so serious voice. “All right, Sam.” Miles lifted both Sam and Sean up onto his lap. “A buccaneer was a pirate who was given permission by his country to plunder enemy ships. They were take-charge kind of guys, Sam, who did things their own way. I’m thinking that it’s time for me to take charge. What do you think?”

“You’re always in charge, Papa.”

Sean burped against Sam’s arm, raised his head and said, “Mama, apple pie.”

Sherlock laughed, got up, and went to the kitchen. “Apple pie coming up. What would the buccaneer like to have?”

“Just bring me an eye patch.”

Sam laughed, the first laugh that had sprung out of that little mouth since they’d left Tennessee.

At eleven o’clock that night, Miles landed his plane at Ackerman’s Air Field. Thirty minutes later, he was driving the rental car into Minna Benedict’s driveway.

It wasn’t raining so hard now, but he could tell that it had really been coming down. A low-lying fog had come up, turning everything gray. The mountains brooded, blurred in a soft mist.

It felt like coming home.

He let Sam, so excited he could barely speak, knock on the door.

Minna beamed at them, clearly startled. “Good grief, Miles, Sam! Come give me a big hug, sweetie. You, Sam, not your daddy. Oh my goodness, it’s wonderful to see both of you. Miles, your face looks all sort of romantic.”

While Sam was enfolded in Minna’s arms, Miles looked over her head for Katie. “I called, but there wasn’t any answer, Minna. Where are Katie and Keely? Asleep? It’s nearly midnight. I’m sorry we’re so late. They are asleep, aren’t they?”

Before Minna could say anything, Sam said, “We’re here because Papa decided at dinner that he had to be a buccaneer. My aunt Sherlock couldn’t find him an eye patch, that’s why you can’t tell.”

“What Sam means, Minna, is that I’m here to sling my bride over my shoulder and cart her away.”

“I see,” Minna said. She straightened, keeping Sam pressed against her side. She gave Miles a big grin. “Well, now, isn’t this the funniest thing? Katie and Keely took off in her truck this evening, headed for Virginia.”