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Authors: Barbara White Daille

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BOOK: Family Matters
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Suddenly, she smiled, recalling where they stood: Rainbow's End. What was it Uncle Bren had said?

All the magic happens here.

Then Matt turned, and she saw what had caused the additional brightness in the building. One of the heavy pocket doors had been pushed open. And outlined in the streaming sunlight stood her entire family, along with Matt's mom.

Uncle Bren had frozen in surprise, Colin was red-faced with embarrassment. Brody just rolled his eyes.

All this was bad enough, but it was the women's reactions that left Kerry floundering for words.

Gran and Olivia turned to each other, exchanged gleeful grins and smacked their palms together in a high-five.

Kerry stared, speechless.

As it turned out, no words were necessary.

The group proceeded to leave, with the boys trailing at the rear of the parade.

“Jeez, Col, did you see them?” Brody exclaimed, his words echoing in the cavernous space.

“Yeah,” Colin replied in an injured tone. “And Kerry yells at
us
for fooling around?”

Chapter Sixteen

Matt returned to the motel room to find J.J. had left him enough hot water for a long, much-needed shower—although, after the kiss he and Kerry had shared in the tunnel of love, he probably should have turned up the cold water.

With that kiss, he thought he could get her out of his system. He'd only made the situation worse.

A while later, he headed to his mom's. On his way past the clubhouse, he spied Kerry sitting beside the lake, leaning against a fallen log, an expression of contentment on her face, her limbs loose and relaxed, her bare feet buried in the grass at the water's edge. A sketch pad rested on her knees.

He had never seen her this at ease since they'd met.

He wanted to know everything about Kerry Anne MacBride, from the inside out. Maybe finding she was merely human, and not a paragon at all, would be what he needed to shield himself from her.

She hadn't minded telling him about her family, at least the parts she was willing for him to know. From years of dealing with clients and witnesses, he could tell she was holding something back. He wanted to know what it was.

Winning her over, gaining her trust, would be a challenge. But that only made the idea more appealing.

He parked the Jeep and strode down the slope toward her, already forming his plan of attack. Getting past the facade to
the real Kerry would mean tackling the situation on her terms. She liked serious discussion. So he'd take things slowly and seriously, first pique her interest, then draw her out.

She might have artistic talent on paper and canvas, but he was an artist in his own way, too. With words. When it came to interrogation, he knew every technique in existence—and had created a few new ones of his own.

He walked silently across the grass toward her. “Hey,” he said. “Finally taking some time for yourself?”

“Yes.”

“I can leave.”

She looked down at the sketch pad in front of her. “No, that's okay. You can stay if you want.”

He wanted.

He moved closer to her and lowered himself to the grass.

She continued working, the charcoal stick in her hand moving rapidly over the pad in broad strokes, sketching the scene before them. Her brow furrowed slightly as she looked up from the paper and then down again repeatedly.

He watched in fascination as fluid, curving lines turned into the rises and dips of the roller coaster. As strong, slashing lines formed the framework holding it up. And as quick, jagged lines became the grass growing untamed under the entire structure. Even in black charcoal on flat paper, the picture came to life.

“You're good,” he said quietly.

“I'm quick, anyhow,” she said, but he saw her lips curve.

“Art's important to you, isn't it?”

She looked down at the sketchbook and nodded.

“Have you always felt that way?”

“Ever since I discovered crayons.”

He gestured toward the pier and Rainbow's End. “That project's cutting into your time, isn't it?”

“Yes,” she said, not looking in that direction.

He wondered how much she resented having to take over for Bren. He wondered, with an accompanying stab of guilt, how much resentment she held for
him.
Wincing, he looked toward the lake for a moment, then said, “Where do you want to go with your art?”

For the first time since he'd joined her, she looked troubled. “I've always wanted to make it to the top.”

“What will you do when you get there?”

“Endow student scholarships. And donate a lot of supplies to my school district.”

“You really do care about those kids, don't you?”

“Of course. All of them. Especially, J.J. He's so
good,
Matt. I think he can make it, if he can find the strength to persevere through a lot of hardships and maybe a lot of sacrifices.”

For the first time, she looked at him, her face relaxed, her mouth softened. “Thank you for everything you've said to him. He came to me a little while ago, and we've talked everything out. He's going to get a part-time job, with luck possibly an internship. And he'll go to school.” She sighed in obvious relief. “We phoned his mother, too. She misses him. I think she's finally realizing J.J. means more to her than Hector does. I hope so, anyway.”

“Good. That's the way it should be.”

She nodded.

“Speaking of phone conversations, I couldn't help overhearing yours when we drove down from Chicago the other day.” He wasn't about to mention the call he'd heard in the game room.
That
had been outright eavesdropping. “It sounded like you were giving up something else because of the park.” He hoped his casual tone hid how much he wanted her to answer.

But she said nothing.

Know your enemies….
Only Kerry seemed less like an
enemy now, and more like…something he didn't want to think about.

“Want to talk it over?” he asked softly.

“That's all water under the pier now.” She shrugged. “I'd been accepted for a fellowship. The summer in Europe, studying art. I turned it down.” Her words were simple, her tone flat, but he knew a huge amount of emotion had to be churning inside her.

“You couldn't have gone later?”

She shook her head. “It wouldn't have been fair to keep the fellowship from another student who could make full use of it. Besides, I couldn't have gone at all. Not with the situation here. I couldn't leave my family.”

“How did they take that?”

“They don't know.” Rubbing her thumb on the edge of her sketch pad, she said in a low voice, “There's no reason to tell them. It's no different from any time before. When they need help, I'm here for them.”

Guilt stabbed him again. She
had
to blame him for this.

“And then,” she continued, “with J.J.'s arrival, it was just as well. We still have a lot to work out.”

That didn't make him feel much better.

How could anyone be so selfless? By turning down her fellowship, Kerry was suffering hardships and making sacrifices, as she said J.J. would have to do—all because she wanted to take care of those close to her.

The same thing he wanted to do. But what had
he
sacrificed for it? A few vacation days? The good opinion of himself from the residents of Lakeside, because he'd chosen to throw his weight around? Coming on so hard really wasn't like him—except in the courtroom, of course, when necessary. But Albie and Carl and the other locals wouldn't know that. The MacBrides probably wouldn't give a nickel for his reputation. And Kerry…

Kerry would care. Kerry cared about everyone.

He looked at the sketch pad balanced in her lap.

“That's you,” he said, pointing at the picture.

“What do you mean?”

“You're just like that scene. All curves on the outside, soft and gentle. But strong as steel on the inside, holding yourself and everyone else up.”

She looked at the pad, then across to the pier. “And I suppose I'm as straggly as the grass under the whole thing.”

“I wouldn't say that.” He edged closer, forgetting his goal of interrogation, forgetting everything but Kerry sitting beside him. He took her free hand in his. “You're unruly, for sure.” He touched one of her curls and grinned. “Obsessed, maybe. There are a lot of words that could describe you.”

Her fingers stiffened for a second before she pulled her hand from his. She slipped the charcoal into a box.

“What's the matter?” he asked.

“Nothing. It's time for me to get home, that's all. I need to go grocery shopping to help Gran get what she needs for tomorrow's potluck.”

“It's more than that,” he said.

“It isn't. Look, I've got to go, Matt.”

“Kerry.” He put a hand on her arm. “You can't just walk off without telling me what I said that was so wrong.”

She stilled, for a long moment not looking at him. Finally she took a deep breath and turned to him, her shoulders slumping. “It's not you, Matt. It's me.”

“But why? What did I say to upset you?”

She sighed. “About…about my being obsessed. Sometimes I think I
am
—just as much as the rest of my family. Gran with her green bags and refusing to ride in a car. Brody with his juggling. Colin with his mountain-climbing. My older brothers are that way, too. One of them was crazy about this lake. He almost drowned here once, walking the bottom of
it with a homemade snorkeling outfit. When that didn't pan out, he tried building his own oxygen tank.”

“Did it work?”

“Of course not.” She laughed suddenly. “But at least he's turned
his
obsession into something sensible. Not like my pie-in-the-sky dreams.”

“Such as?”

“He works for a company that lays fiber-optic cable in the Pacific. He got what he wanted, after all.”

“And you'll get what you want, too.”

“A fellowship. Fame. Success.”

“I don't think so. That's not your obsession, is it?”

She looked at him in surprise. “I think
family's
your obsession, Kerry Anne. Your immediate family and your extended family, your students. Living, breathing people, in other words, not static works of art. You take care of a lot of people. And what's wrong with that? You told me wanting to take care of someone isn't a bad thing. Isn't that what you taught me, Ms. MacBride?”

“Yes,” she answered slowly.

“And you meant it, didn't you? It sure sounded that way, anyhow.”

“Yes, I meant it.”

“And so do I. I've never been more serious.” He smiled, sat back and waited.

It took a while, but finally, she gave him an answering smile.

He sat up, feeling an urge to cover those curved lips with his. To taste her and take her. And to prove he was worthy of her.
Damn.

Inches away from following through on the idea, he froze.

His grand plan hadn't worked after all; in fact, it had
backfired. He'd thought getting to know the real Kerry would help raise his guard again. Would prove she was nothing special, just another woman he had no time for in his life. He'd thought this conversation would break whatever magical spell she'd woven around him.

Instead, it had only left him more entangled. And more exposed.

When one line of attack fails,
his former professor had said,
move in from a different angle.

The problem was, he didn't have another angle.

But he needed to find one.
Fast.

 

A
SHORT WHILE LATER,
Kerry and Matt ambled silently but together toward his Jeep in the parking area.

She was amazed by his understanding, touched by his obvious concern. And ready to take a chance with him. To risk a serious relationship, something she'd always wanted but would never before allow herself to have. Not after learning the hard way what happened when any man she had an interest in got close to her family!

But Matt had met most of the wacky clan—and he was still here. That
had
to mean something.

Something special.

She moved with a lighter step, feeling as if a huge boulder had been lifted from her shoulders.

“We'll finish up early at the pier tomorrow. For the potluck,” she explained. “I'll tell Alice we'll come early and help set up.”

Beside her, Matt stumbled but caught himself before she could reach out to him. He didn't respond.

She waited.

Finally, he said, “That won't work for me.” He paused, then added, “I'm cutting short my vacation. I've got to get back to work.”

“Oh.” Again, she waited, looking out over the lake, skimming the length of the pier and Rainbow's End. When he still said nothing, she shifted her gaze back to him. “You hadn't mentioned that before. Something important came up?”

“You could say that.”

She frowned. “But are
you
saying that?”

“Well…” He ran his thumbnail across his eyebrow. She'd seen him make that movement several times before, always when he was uncomfortable or at a loss for words.

She kept her eyes forward, watching where she walked. Anything but look at Matt. How foolish of her. She was now ready for commitment; he was poised for escape.

“I suppose I should be grateful that you won't lie to me outright,” she said.

“I don't lie.”

“And I don't play games. I told you that before.” She sighed. “I'm a teacher, Matt. I recognize evasive answers when I hear them. What happened,” she asked carefully, “about never being more serious?”

“I meant about you. We were talking about you.”

“Okay…then what do we call the rest of that conversation we just had?” She shook her head sadly. “Did you think I didn't know you were trying to draw me out with your questions? I thought it was because you were interested. Now, I'm wondering if it was something else.” She waited, received no response, moved on. “Maybe you saw the situation as an opportunity for you. A chance to practice your lawyer's interrogation tricks.”

She waited again, her breath stilled but her mind racing.

Tell me I'm wrong, damn it. Tell me you meant what you'd said.

He remained quiet, not looking at her.

Her heart squeezed painfully. Her lungs struggled to take
in air. “You can't even deny it?” she asked, choking on the question.

He still refused to answer. Yet the muscles in his throat contracted strongly, and his shoulders grew more rigid.

Her heart squeezed again, but this time in sympathy for him. Obviously he was struggling, too.

“Matt, think about this. We're coming close to something, you know we are. Not that we've made any promises, but we're close to a relationship of
some
kind. I think you see that, and you're running away from the responsibility of it—just as you told me you've tried to run from your past.”

BOOK: Family Matters
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