Her Hawaiian Homecoming (Mills & Boon Superromance) (23 page)

He could have gone after her for it, could’ve called the police, but then what? Kayla’s mom would go to jail. That was,
if
he could have proved he hadn’t given her the passwords and told her to take the money. She’d argue he did.

And if he had pressed charges, everyone on the island would have heard about it. The gossip would have flown fierce and decisive, and Kayla would hade been hurt by it. She’d grow up being the daughter of the thief, or she’d grow up in a foster home if her mom went to jail. Either way, Kayla got hurt. Dallas had refused to go after Jennifer for the money, and he’d chosen not to battle the gossip, either. Anything he said to defend himself would just prove Jennifer’s guilt. Dallas knew the power of gossip in a small town. He’d come from one. He wasn’t going to do that to Kayla. He hurt Kayla enough by leaving, and he damn sure wasn’t going to hurt that precious girl any more. If he had to be the bad guy, it was a price he was willing to pay.

He glanced over at Allie in his passenger seat, as she stared away from him out her window. He knew all about guilt, about how it could eat you up inside. He hoped she believed him that it wasn’t her fault about her dad. He could see plainly that she was a woman who struggled with trusting people, too, and he could see why. The most important people in her life had failed her. He wanted to help her get past this, but wondered if he even could. He thought of Kayla, knowing he had his own burden to carry. He tried to imagine a time when he didn’t feel bad about leaving, and couldn’t. It might well haunt him for the rest of his life.

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

A
S
D
ALLAS
AND
Allie drove back down to the Kona Coffee Estate, they saw most of the higher elevations untouched by the tsunami. Carloads of fleeing Hawaiians steadily made their way back to their homes, and Allie worried for them: Would they find their houses intact? Or return to splintered rubble? She remembered the tourist they had seen floating in the floodwaters. How many people had died? How many families would be torn apart? How many daughters would lose their fathers? With so many people likely to be suffering, Allie felt selfish holding on to her little traumas of her past.

For the first time, she thought, maybe she needed to let them go.

Somehow she’d been afraid to take a closer look at her past, afraid that if she did, she’d find only more blame. But Dallas had helped her see how wrong she’d been to keep it all bottled up for so long. She was afraid to look too hard, afraid of the anger she’d feel toward her dad.

It’s not your fault
. She tried that on for size, and actually for the first time, she actually started to believe it.
It’s not my fault.
She wanted to say it out loud, to make the words official somehow. Dallas was onto something. All those years her father had missed with her, all those birthdays, and holidays, and first days of school. Her heart ached when she thought of all those times she’d wished her father had been there. And he wasn’t. And she’d blamed herself.

But she couldn’t be mad at him, either. It wasn’t her fault or his.

Sometimes, she guessed, it wasn’t anybody’s fault. Not really. Bad things just happened in life, and it was about what you did next. Did you let them keep you down forever? Or did you pick yourself up and try again?

Get knocked down seven times, get up eight.
Wasn’t that what Grandma Misu had always said? It had been her favorite Japanese proverb. Maybe it was time she listened.

She wasn’t sure what she was going to do with that information, but she’d figure something out. She was grateful to Dallas for the advice, and yet, she also knew she had to be careful. Dallas wasn’t someone she could get involved with. He may not have cheated on Jennifer, but everywhere she turned, she saw new evidence that he liked to play around. She didn’t want to think about how quickly her body responded to him, how eager she was to throw caution completely to the wind, consequences be damned. What would’ve happened if that officer hadn’t knocked on their window? Allie felt as if she wouldn’t have been able to stop herself. She realized, a beat too late, she didn’t even have a condom. Did he? Would they just jump in blindly and hope everything worked out?

Never before had she even considered doing anything so reckless.

But did she really want to be one in a parade of women through his bedroom door? Allie already knew the answer. She’d shared her fiancé with another woman and she’d hated it. She hated the idea of someone not thinking
she
was enough. She was done sharing. The next time—if there was a next time—she wanted a man who could be true, who didn’t need his head turned every ten minutes by something or someone new.

Allie glanced at Dallas’s rugged profile as he kept his eyes steady on the road. She couldn’t hope to keep him interested, not in the long term, not when he’d had so many conquests under his belt. She’d be a fool to risk it. Her heart was barely mended, practically still in pieces. She should find that cop who’d interrupted their little make-out session and thank him for preventing her from making a mistake of a lifetime.

They drove to the Kona Coffee Estate, and Allie could feel Dallas tense as they made their way up the seemingly untouched driveway. The fence was intact, as were the first rows of thick coffee trees, their branches heavy with bright red berries ready to be picked. As they ascended the drive to Misu’s house, Allie saw it stood untouched by the disaster, completely and radiantly in one piece. She’d never been so glad to see her grandmother’s porch. She realized, belatedly, that all her grandmother’s things were inside.
I’d have lost what was left of her if the tsunami had taken it.
Allie felt an immediate rush of gratitude. She’d have more time to sift through her grandmother’s things.

And then she felt an even bigger sense of gladness: the property was still whole. She could still sell it. She had to convince Kaimana, but that came after the coffee festival. She still had a chance. The thought buoyed her, made her feel instantly lighter.
My escape plan is still in place.

But was that what she wanted? She didn’t know. She wasn’t sure anymore. Did she want to be alone in a world where disaster could strike at any minute? Wasn’t it better to be with people you loved than alone?

Dallas parked the truck near Misu’s house and Allie ran in, just to be sure. Just to check that somehow the water hadn’t made its way inside with no residue on the outside. Allie found the house just the way she’d left it: her suitcase open on the bed, her rinsed dishes from breakfast in the sink. Nothing was out of place. Nothing touched. Allie went outside to tell Dallas the good news, and found him back by the roasting barn, inspecting all the equipment for making coffee. He wore an expression of intense concentration as he went through each piece of equipment, checking it out from top to bottom.

“Everything okay?” Allie asked.

“All good,” Dallas said, relief on his face. Allie and he shared a grin, and for the briefest of seconds, she wanted to launch herself into his arms, to kiss him to death.
We made it!
she wanted to shout.
We’re going to be fine!

“My house,” Dallas said, as if remembering it for the first time. He rushed out of the barn, and Allie followed him. He strode down the small path between the tall coffee trees, but skidded to an abrupt stop when the trees parted. Allie nearly collided with his back.

“What...the...” But then Allie saw why he’d stopped. Here, on this side of the property, closest to the shore, the water
had
come, and it had come in force. Several rows of coffee trees had been completely leveled flat, swept off by the floodwaters. But even more shocking, half of Dallas’s house had been washed away; the other half lay in a tangled, slumped mess on muddied ground.

“Oh, Dallas,” Allie moaned, reaching out to touch his elbow, but he was gone, moving away from her, his hands deep in his thick blond hair, as if he hoped to pull it out and make everything in front of him disappear. He walked to what was left of his front door and through it, sinking into thick mud up to his ankles. “Dallas—be careful!” Allie followed him up to his collapsing porch and peered into his house. Half of it: the kitchen and living room looked strangely unscathed. The back bedroom and indoor bathroom, however, had been mostly swept away. Pipes lay twisted and torn, coming up from where his bathroom had been. A toilet with no door or walls sat strangely in the middle of the muck.

He disappeared back to his bedroom and came out with a handful of clothes.

“All I could salvage right now,” he said, his face registering shock. “I don’t know what to even... Where to start...”

Allie gently took some of the clothes from his arms. “It’ll be okay,” she said. “You can stay with me until we get this fixed.” The words were out of her mouth before she even realized what she was promising. Dallas staying under her roof? Was that a good idea? She glanced at his muscled forearms, wondering just how long it would be before he was kissing the life out of her, before she was back in that logic-free zone where she just wanted to take off all her clothes.

She flicked away the temptation. This was about offering Dallas
the couch
, she told herself. Nothing more.

Dallas blinked at her, as if not understanding a word she said. “You can stay at Misu’s house until we get this fixed,” she said once more, as if that somehow made it right. It wasn’t
her
house she was inviting him into.

Dallas suddenly put his arm around her, hugging her to him silently. She rested her head against the solid muscle of his chest and wished he’d never let her go. Eventually, he released her and strode toward the house again, grabbing one of his working patio chairs away from the sagging roof. Allie set his clothes on it, and he went about the task of trying to find what he could save from his house. Allie started to help him, and then she remembered: Dallas’s house wasn’t the only one closer to the shore, wasn’t the only home near here on low-lying land.

“Kaimana,” Allie said suddenly. “Kaimana and Jesse’s house!”

Dallas stopped what he was doing, and their eyes met. Instantly, they both walked quickly down the path of coffee trees toward Kaimana’s old farmhouse. The water had taken out the big mango tree in her front yard and swept it off to an unknown destination. It had also clearly made it up the porch steps, which carried a mud line from where the waters had receded, but the rest of her house remained in one piece.

As they stood there assessing the damage, Kaimana herself opened the front door and shuffled out carrying a mop and a bucket. She froze when she saw them, her gray-streaked hair, long and loose past her shoulders. A white flower was tucked behind her ear, and she had on a bright blue flowered muumuu along with her signature macadamia-nut necklace.

“Are you all right?” Allie called as she walked up to the porch.

Kaimana dropped her mop and made her way down the steps. She pulled Allie into a big hug, surprising her. “Where have you been? You scared me to death! You weren’t at the shelter.” The sudden warmth surprised Allie.

“This is your fault, huh?” She pointed at Dallas accusingly. Dallas just held up his hands, trying to convey innocence. “You wanted to play hero or something? Going out to the floodwaters for my Kai?”

“I...”

“I’m grateful you did, you big dummy!” Kaimana pulled Dallas into a big hug, too. “You’re a good boy.” The big-boned woman gave Dallas’s blond hair a good tousle, and he turned a little red as he disentangled himself from her.

“Is there anything we can do for you...anything we can get?” Allie asked, as Kaimana finally released her.

“You got any gin over there? I could use a stiff G and T.” This caused everyone to laugh a little. “Nah, I’ll be fine. Little damage, no big deal.” Kaimana shrugged. “It’ll be clean in no time. And Kai is doing much better. I went by the hospital this morning. He was awake and singing your praises. You know it kills him to do that, Dallas.”

“I know.” Dallas grinned.

“He’ll have to take you surfing and try to drown you again, just so it’s even.”

Dallas laughed. “Fine by me, anytime.”

“How is the estate?” A worry line wrinkled Kaimana’s forehead.

Dallas fell silent. “Most of the crop is fine and so is Misu’s house,” Allie said quickly. “But...not his house.”

“It’s just stuff,” he said, trying hard to mask the seriousness of the loss. “It can be replaced. And Allie is letting me sleep on the couch at Misu’s, so I’ll be fine.”

Kaimana uttered something in Hawaiian to show she approved.

Dallas glanced over his shoulder, up at the bright sky. “I need to head back and use this daylight while I can,” Dallas said.

“You go on. I need to talk with Allie.” Kaimana’s face left no room for argument, so Dallas just shrugged.

“Sure. I’ll meet you back at your place,” he said and trod off down the trail leading away from Kaimana’s house. When he was gone, Kaimana ushered Allie to a seat on her porch.

“Have you talked to your grandmother yet?” Kaimana asked, taking Allie by surprise.

“Talk to her? I don’t understand...”
She’s dead.

“I talk to her every Tuesday afternoon,” Kaimana said. “I visit the Alae Cemetery, and we have a nice long chat.”

Allie instantly felt relief. Kaimana wasn’t talking about seeing dead people, she was talking about speaking to a grave.

“Oh.”

“You should come.”

“I will,” Allie promised, feeling a knot in her throat.

Kaimana clapped her hands, making Allie jump a little. “Okay, so be sure to tell her about the contest. She’ll want to know you’re entering. You still plan to enter the festival?”

“I forgot about it,” Allie lied.

“You’ve got months yet. That’s enough for several batches.”

“Several?”

“Sure, you harvest beans every month, roast them up and then pick the richest ones for the competition. Easy.” Kaimana dusted her hands as if it were a chore easily done. Allie didn’t think it would be that easy. Especially not now, with the island still rocked by the aftermath of the tsunami.