Fortunate Harbor (22 page)

When they were married, CJ had been highly opinionated about what she wore, but he’d rarely selected any of it. Now she remembered that he had picked this dress out on a rare
shopping spree together. Suddenly she was sorry she’d worn it, afraid she’d sent the wrong message.

He leaned over and kissed her cheek before she could turn her head. “Black was always your color.”

“A good one to get used to. Mourning, and all that.”

“Sounds like you had some day. Whatever put you in this mood, it wasn’t my fault, okay?”

She let herself sigh. A long, deep and hopefully cleansing sigh. “Yeah.”

“Here’s my suggestion. Leave whatever happened right here, and when you step on board Henrietta’s yacht, forget what it was. You need some fun, TK, and you need to relax and let somebody take care of you for a change. You’re a big, independent girl, but even Wonder Woman probably needed a stiff drink and a neck rub every once in a while.”

Big
resounded in Tracy’s head.

The advice, though, was stellar. She did need some fun, and after years of being taken care of, a few more hours of being pampered wouldn’t hurt her. So what if CJ was involved in this Statler disaster, whatever it was? He wasn’t going to play pirate tonight and hijack the yacht to Cuba, and she doubted anybody would arrest him for anything until they were safely back on land. Meantime, the night was theirs.

She put on a smile, and, surprisingly, it helped. “Let’s enjoy everything about tonight.”

“I’ll enjoy being with you.”

Despite herself, she was afraid she would enjoy being with him, too.

And what did that say about her?

The night had few visible stars, and clouds drifted across the moon. Fortunately Alice’s porch light fell softly on the flower bed beside her door, so Dana could see to dig. She was concentrating so hard that a shadow creeping toward her was the first clue she was not alone. She swiveled in horror and found Pete Knight standing just at the edge of the light.

“I announced myself,” he said. “I was sure you heard me.”

Dana’s heart was pounding so fast she thought it might sprout wings and fly away. “I didn’t hear a thing.”

“I parked over at your place, and Lizzie told me you were out for a walk. I called to you when I got to Alice’s mailbox.” He paused. “I didn’t expect to find you working in her garden this time of night.”

Dana looked down. There might have been a garden here at one time, but now the sandy soil was blanketed with mulch and a collection of whimsical concrete statues. They were Alice’s practical solution to dealing with weeds and heat.

“Are you trying to surprise Alice with petunias between the elf and the toadstool?”

Since there were no flats of petunias in sight, she knew he was fishing for an explanation.

She got shakily to her feet and dusted her hands. “I don’t think she’d welcome that surprise. She has enough to do without tending a garden.”

“Lizzie says Olivia and Alice are away?”

“Alice took Olivia to see her father yesterday. They’ll be home late tonight.”

“I heard he’s in prison.”

Dana rummaged in her pocket, then stretched out her hand, balancing an earring on her palm. “I dropped the mate somewhere. I was standing here when I said goodbye to them, and I thought maybe this is where I lost it.”

Pete took the simple braided gold hoop from her hand. “Wouldn’t you have better luck tomorrow, when the sun’s out?”

“It’s supposed to rain tonight. I thought it might wash into the ground and disappear.”

He handed back the earring. “Want me to help you dig?”

“I didn’t find it, so I was just scraping back the mulch a little. They aren’t expensive earrings, but a friend gave them to me. I always think of her when I wear them. I just hate to lose one.”

“From what I can tell, that happens a lot. Women should start a new fashion. Wear different earrings in each ear all the time.”

“I think it would take somebody higher up the fashion chain to get that going.”

She pocketed the earring again, then stuck the hand trowel in the gardener’s tool belt Lizzie had given her for her birthday and regretfully stepped away from the bed.

She started toward her house, but he stopped her with a hand
on her shoulder. “Didn’t you forget something? This.” He reached into the shadows and retrieved Lizzie’s metal detector. “I’m assuming you brought this to help you search?”

“Oh, thanks. Lizzie wouldn’t have been one bit happy if I forgot that.”

He stowed it under his arm to carry it for her. “Did you get a signal?”

“Lots of signals. I was so close to the house it was picking up all sorts of stuff. Wiring, you name it.”

He fell in step beside her. She was a tall athletic woman, but Pete always made her feel petite, and despite herself, she had to admit she liked it.

“So why’d you drop by?” she asked.

“First, let me say you’ve trained your daughter well.”

“Is that so?”

“As well as she knows me, she wasn’t about to let me into your house.”

“Score one for Lizzie.”

“Right. She can’t be too careful.”

This conversational thread disturbed her. “You sound like you know what you’re talking about.”

“I was an MP. Mostly I knocked heads together when I was dragging soldiers out of bars, but we also had cases involving families on the base. One of them involved a girl not much older than Lizzie who let a so-called friend in when her parents were gone, and lived to regret it.”

Dana felt a cold chill, despite an evening temperature still in the eighties.

“We intervened in time,” he added. “But that was a long time ago, and I imagine wherever she’s living now, she’s still double-bolting every door.”

“No good mother lets that happen.”

“You can’t be everywhere, and you can’t control everything when you’re not. She was fifteen, and by virtue of her hormones she was sure she knew more than her parents, who were nice, careful people. It happens.”

She tried not to think about what would happen when Lizzie was fifteen. Adolescence was already rearing its determined head. There would be fights, lines drawn in the sand, and there would be questions. So many, many questions. Adolescence was a time of discovery, and Dana had far too few answers to give.

“I suspect you came for some reason other than to test our security?” she asked, when they neared her house.

“I brought Lizzie a penny for her collection.”

“And even with that, she didn’t let you in?”

“I didn’t tell her. I didn’t want to tempt her to do what she knew she shouldn’t.”

“What is it?”

“A 1936-S. She told me she’s been looking and looking.”

“Please don’t give it to her if it’s worth a lot. She’s still a kid. Next month she might be collecting postcards.”

“How long’s she been collecting coins?”

Dana glanced at him. Tonight Pete was wearing jeans cut off at the knees and a striped shirt unbuttoned to his breastbone. Casual clothing suited him, and he was beginning to look as if he belonged in Florida. “A couple of years, I guess.”

“That sounds like more than a whim. And no, if she tries to sell it to a dealer, it might be worth a nickel. But I’m sure it’s worth a lot more to her.”

“How did you find it?”

“Luck of the Irish.”

“You don’t look Irish.”

“I’m lucky enough to be.” He nudged her shoulder companionably. “These days Lizzie’s got me checking every handful of change, but I used to collect coins way back when. So I know the excitement of finding something you’ve been searching for.”

They stood at her door, and Dana debated. Since their surprisingly fun night at the Little League game, she and Lizzie had enjoyed Pete’s company more than once. He was laid-back and unassuming, and little by little, she was dropping her guard. But she had never invited him into her house—not unless he was making some repair—and now she knew if she did, everything would change. Because even if he
had
just come because he’d found the penny to give her daughter—and she wondered what the chances of that really were—she suspected Pete was not here only to see Lizzie. She’d felt ripples of sexual attraction between them, and had from the beginning. Now was the moment to put a stop to them.

Except that instead, as she unbuckled her tool belt and left it on the porch, she heard herself inviting him inside for a drink.

“You’re sure?” he asked, as if he had witnessed the battle in her eyes.

A long-term relationship was out of the question. She wasn’t going to stay in Florida, but more important, she wasn’t in the market for any attachment, except to her daughter. Still, she had been without a man in her life or bed for so long that she felt parched and greedy, like someone lost in the desert, crawling toward the next mirage. And Pete
was
a mirage; she knew this. He would disappear,
had
to disappear, from her life.

But not tonight.

“Yes,” she said. “Cold beer or cheap wine, take your pick.”

“Beer, hands down.”

She opened the door, and he followed. Lizzie was watching television, and she jumped up when she saw them.

“You found her!”

“She was easy to spot.”

“Pete has something for you, Liz. I’m getting him a beer. Do you want anything?”

“Can I have one, too?” Lizzie asked, eyes shining.

“In about a decade.”

“I’ll count the days.”

“Lemonade do?”

“I’m okay.” Lizzie got to her feet. “You have a present for me?” she asked Pete.

Dana left them alone, although not very, since the house was small and didn’t offer much privacy. When she returned, Lizzie was examining the penny as if it had come from a sunken treasure chest.

“Did you see this?” she asked Dana.

“I heard about it. Cool, huh?”

“I’m going to put it in my folder. I don’t want to lose it.” She looked up and grinned. “Then I’m going to bed. Olivia’s coming over practically at dawn tomorrow to tell me about her trip. You know, before we go to youth camp.”

Lizzie had never volunteered to go to bed this early. Yes, Olivia would probably arrive at the crack of dawn, but the two girls were together all the time, and Lizzie had never changed her sleeping habits to accommodate anyone. Then she realized Lizzie was trying to leave her alone with their visitor.

She wanted to laugh. She wanted to cry. “Sleep tight.”

Lizzie rolled her eyes. “When do you stop saying that?”

“After I’ve drawn my final breath.”

“Yuck.” Lizzie belied the word with a big hug; then, on a
whim, she hugged Pete, too. “Thanks again, Pete.” She jumped back. “Night!” Then she headed for the bathroom.

“She’s a great kid,” Pete said, taking the beer and the glass Dana had provided, in case he wanted one.

“She is indeed.”

“Where’d she get that hair? Yours curls a little, but hers is amazing.”

Dana resisted the urge to touch her hair just because he had noticed it. “Her father’s family, I guess. Certainly not mine.”

“I gather you’re divorced?”

She was glad that for once she could tell the truth. “I am, and Lizzie’s father wanted no part of her.”

“Sounds like a good guy to be rid of.”

“Amen.” She gestured to the sofa. “Make yourself at home.”

“Are you joining me?”

“I’ll be right back.”

She returned with a glass of wine, turned off the television set and sat beside him. She held up her glass in toast. “To a nice man who likes kids.”

“To a nice lady who likes kids.”

They clinked.

“I get the feeling you know more about children than anyone would learn from simple observation,” she said.

“Two sons. Educated, settled and happy. One teaching in Minneapolis. One in the air force, presently in Texas.”

“And the wife that went with them?” She thought she had the right to ask.

“Ann died almost ten years ago. An emergency-room doctor brushed off the headache from a ruptured cerebral aneurysm and called it stress. She died two days later. With better medical care, she might have recovered.”

“I’m so sorry.”

“There was a lawsuit. It was settled, and suddenly the boys didn’t have to take out college loans. We would have preferred having her and a mountain of debt.”

“I’m sure.”

He angled himself so he could see her better. “But that was a long time ago, and we’re doing okay.”

“And you retired from the military?”

He took a long swallow. “I’d had enough of knocking heads together. I figured I did my duty to flag and country, and between the settlement and consolidating some property, I knew I could quit.”

“And now you’re trying to figure out where to live. Even though it’s probably beautiful in Alaska about now, and it’s hot and growing hotter here.”

“My cabin’s rented out until the end of summer. That gives me plenty of time to figure out if I want to buy a warmer winter place or just travel around when I start going stir-crazy. How about you?”

She also took a sip before she spoke. “What about me?”

“From what I can tell, you and Lizzie are vagabonds.”

“That sounds like a fun thing to be. In reality, our life is pretty hand to mouth, but we do okay.”

“Why so much moving? Just Lizzie’s allergies?”

“The economy’s partly at fault, too. We settle in, I get a promising job, then the next thing I know they’re laying off the last hired, or closing entirely. I’ve been working toward an education degree for more years than I want to admit, but credits don’t always transfer. If Lizzie and I can just settle in long enough so I can finish whatever courses I have to and do my student teaching, things might improve. Although, like every
thing else, teaching jobs are hard to come by right now.” She was a little embarrassed. That was the longest speech she had given in his presence.

“Elementary school?” he asked.

“While they’re still young and malleable.”

“You’ll be a good teacher. Any school system will be lucky to have you.”

“How do you know?”

“I’ve seen you with Lizzie and Olivia.”

“That’s not much proof, but I think I will be, too.”

He stretched out a hand but waited for her to acknowledge it, as if to say she could meet him halfway but it was up to her.

She knew better, but she inclined her head so that his fingertips brushed her hair, then her cheek. He stroked her skin for a moment, then lightly cupped her face.

She sighed softly. Nothing was supposed to feel this good. And only his fingers and palm were touching her. What would it be like to have more? To feel his whole body against hers?

“You’re a loner,” he said quietly. “So am I. Having that in common probably isn’t much of a jumping-off place for us, is it?”

She wasn’t surprised at the change of subject, or the assumption that came with it. She knew she hadn’t imagined the way the air sometimes crackled with sexual attraction when he was near. Pete wasn’t a man who wasted time, and he
was
a man who picked up cues. She had probably given a number of them.

“It all depends on where you’re planning to land,” she said, leaning into his hand just a little more.

“I don’t know how long I’ll be around. I don’t think you do, either.”

“And your point?”

He dropped his hand, but only to her shoulder, where it
rested lightly. His fingers began a slow, gentle massage, and waves of pleasure radiated through her.

“We could look at this two ways,” he said. “Knowing time’s short, we could forgo a lot of preliminaries. Or, knowing there’s no future in the cards, I can finish my beer, and say good-night and goodbye.”

The second made more sense. She’d been going with that choice for years, turning her back on possibilities, walking away before relationships could progress even this far. But she was tired of being alone, and Pete Knight just wasn’t that easy to walk away from. He’d made it clear he wasn’t expecting or probably even open to anything long-term. She had to stay around Happiness Key until her business here was completed. Maybe having Pete in her life would make everything harder. She didn’t know. But weren’t some obstacles worth working around?