Kisses in the Rain (12 page)

"Don't you think there's something beautiful about the rain, though? For instance, I've grown to enjoy kissing you in the rain very much." He reached for her hand and meshed his fingers with hers as the rugged lines of his face softened into an expression of pure happiness.

Martha answered with a smile. She had learned a lot about adapting their kisses to the moment. A quick peck on the cheek to speed them on their separate ways. A spur-of-the-moment kiss when they were walking together in the park and something made them laugh. A lingering kiss on her porch, their cheeks misted by a dewy rain.

Her serenity lapsed into nostalgia. "I've always loved the rain, even back in Greenleaf, Indiana, where I grew up. When I was a little girl, on rainy days I liked to bundle up in a warm afghan and sit at the big window where I could listen to it rushing through the downspout right outside. My mother would bake cookies for me and my two sisters, and the fragrance would waft all through the house"

"Chocolate-chip cookies?"

"Yes, although I'd forgotten until just now that those were the kind. I'd better ask her for her recipe. Maybe I could combine it with Faye's and get that special flavor I'm looking for."

"Did you ever ask your mother about the child in her kindergarten class who didn't talk?"

"This week, when Mother and I talked on the phone, I mentioned it. She says she kept some of her notes from her conferences with the child's parents, and she's going to look for them and email me copies. But she did say that the child finally started to talk."

"Did he?" Nick sat up, fully alert at this news.

"Mother said it took time. How's Davey doing? Any better?"

Nick shook his head. "This morning when I left he said my name, but that's not unusual. I wish you could see his eyes, Martha. They're what really gets to me. I feel as though there are words locked inside him, a whole universe of feeling and thinking and—well, you'd have to see him to know what I mean." Now that he had found someone with whom he felt comfortable communicating his own feelings, he was doubly anxious for Davey to do the same thing. It seemed to him that Davey was locking himself inside his own heart, perpetuating a loneliness that needn't exist. If only he, Nick, could find the key to unlocking Davey's heart, to setting the little boy free from the cage in which he imprisoned himself!

Nick touched a hand to her cheek. "Martha, I think it's time for you to meet Davey. Will you?"

"I'd like that, Nick," she said, the words heartfelt.

He kissed her on the lips. "Will you come out to Williwaw Lodge next weekend? You could spend Sunday with us. With Hallie and Davey and me, I mean."

Martha nodded and smiled. She loved him so much, and now he was prepared to share this aspect of his life with her.

"I can hardly wait," she said.

* * *

"Martha—" Faye said with a worried look, but then she stopped.

"Go ahead," Martha said. She and Faye were walking the winding trails through the park across the street from their duplex.

"Martha, about Nick and that little boy," Faye said.

"I know, Faye," Martha said. "Davey is four years old and he doesn't talk."

"Nick told you?"

Martha nodded.

"What else did Nick tell you?" Faye asked sharply.

"What do you mean?" Martha darted a look in Faye's direction. Faye appeared to be weighing something in her mind.

"I'm fond of Nick and his whole family, you know that," Faye said.

"Of course." Martha stepped over a fallen branch in the path and turned to stare at Faye. "Faye, are you trying to tell me something?"

Faye sighed. "I'd rather not, but if I don't tell you, you will surely hear it on the mukluk grapevine."

"Mukluk grapevine?" Martha said, looking at Faye as though she must have a screw loose somewhere.

"Mukluks are soft Eskimo boots made of caribou skin. A mukluk grapevine is one of our quaint Alaskan expressions, meaning that gossip creeps quietly on foot. By the time you hear about Nick and Davey, it might be too late."

"Too late for what?"

"Too late to put a lock on your heart," Faye muttered grimly.

Martha stopped walking. "A lock on my heart," she repeated faintly. It was already too late for that.

"There's something you don't know about Nick," Faye said.

"I think maybe I'd rather not," Martha said, not even bothering to hide her dismay. She sank down on a bench beside a rock-lined pool.

"When you know, you still won't know," Faye said, but there was more worry in her expression than mystery.

Martha looked Faye straight in the eye. "Why don't you just come out and say what you want to say?" she said, knowing that was what Faye would do anyway.

"Nobody knows whose little boy Davey is," Faye blurted.

"He's Nick's child. Isn't he?"

"No one knows," repeated Faye.

"I thought Nick must have been married before," Martha said with increasing bewilderment. "I thought that Davey was his child from his first marriage."

"Nick's never been married to my knowledge," Faye said.

"Then whose child
is
Davey?" Martha asked. A puzzled frown pleated her forehead.

"That's right," Faye said bluntly. "Everyone in Ketchikan would like to know the same thing."

Sudden tears sprang to Martha's eyes. She blinked rapidly, then gazed up at the blue-green branches of the Sitka spruce overhead and drew a deep breath. The sharp evergreen fragrance stung her nostrils.

"Whose child do you think he is?" she asked at last.

"I'm not sure," Faye said slowly. "I've certainly wondered, but Nick Novak isn't the type to provide any explanation. He simply showed up with Davey one day, and that's all anyone knows. You wouldn't know this because you've never seen the boy, but Davey is obviously part Indian. Tlingit, I suspect."

"Does he belong to Hallie or one of her relatives?" Martha asked, her mind ranging over possibilities.

Faye shook her head. "I doubt it, although Hallie is a wonderful caregiver for him. No, it's Nick who considers himself primarily responsible for Davey. If Davey were Hallie's responsibility, Nick wouldn't take his duties toward Davey so seriously."

"I wonder if Nick will tell me," Martha said.

"Nick clearly trusts you. Whatever the mystery about Davey is, perhaps he'll enlighten you. Are you going to ask him?"

Agitated, Martha jumped up from the park bench. She was far down the path and proceeding at a fast clip before Faye caught up with her.

"Are you going to ask him?" Faye repeated.

"I don't know, Faye. I just don't know," Martha said.

* * *

On Sunday, the day she was finally to meet Davey, Martha met Nick at the floatplane dock. He had told her earlier that they would fly to Williwaw Lodge in his Cessna floatplane if the weather was clear. He was eager for her to get an aerial view of the mountains, forest and town.

He greeted her with a kiss, unaware of the questions running through her mind. In a few minutes they were trailing a white wake behind them as Nick taxied along the surface of the water preparatory to takeoff.

Nick's plane seemed dwarfed by the towering, snowcapped mountain peaks surrounding them. As they spiraled upward from the city of Ketchikan, Martha was again impressed with how small the little cluster of buildings was in comparison with its surroundings, and how confined by them.

The wilderness seemed to press in upon Ketchikan, threatening to crowd it into the chilly depths of the Narrows. Here and there the blue-gray water of outlying bays and fjords was dotted with sand-bordered islands, all deeply forested. The scenery, the scope and depth of it, was majestic, a sight to make Martha's soul soar in appreciation of its beauty. She was also mindful of the determination it took to live in such a place, separated from the rest of the world by the natural barriers of mountains, forest, water, and weather.

Because of the noise and vibration of the plane, Nick and Martha barely talked during the short flight. Of course, after Faye's startling revelation earlier in the week, Martha was full of questions about Davey, but she felt ambivalent about asking. Maybe she'd feel more sure of her ground once she met Davey face-to-face. Surely there would be some clue to his parentage in the child's looks.

When she first saw Nick's cabin at the edge of a clearing on Mooseleg Bay, it was no more than a gray speck on the edge of the water. Then the plane circled, and Nick set them down gently before taxiing toward a floating dock that rose and fell with the tides.

Martha felt a thrill of anticipation about seeing how Nick lived. The dock rocked gently under their weight as Nick handed her down from the plane, and overhead a screeching gull wheeled close, then soared away across the bay, leaving them standing in a silence so deep and overwhelming that Martha scarcely dared breathe for fear of disturbing it.

"Welcome to Williwaw Lodge," Nick said warmly, resting his hands on her waist. "I've imagined bringing you here hundreds of times, and now you're really here."

Whatever else he might have said was interrupted when a tiny lone figure began to advance slowly down the slope of grass from the cabin.

"There's Davey," Nick said. He kept one arm around Martha's waist, and they went to meet the boy.

Davey walked slowly and cautiously, as though he didn't trust what he saw.

"He's not used to my bringing anyone home with me," Nick said in an undertone. "He wonders who you are."

I wonder who Davey is, too,
Martha said silently to herself.

"Davey," called Nick. "Here's a friend I'd like you to meet."

Davey stopped where he was.

Martha's first impression was of a four-year-old who seemed unnaturally wary. He was a chubby little boy with dark, straight hair worn a little too long in front so that his eyes appeared to be peeping out from under a thatched overhang. His almond-shaped eyes were big, bright, and extremely anxious. Though Martha scrutinized Davey's face carefully, his appearance gave her no clue as to whether he was Nick's son or someone else's. He was adorable, even though he wasn't friendly.

"Nick?" Davey said, shifting awkwardly from one foot to the other. His voice was barely a whisper, and it was clear that he idolized Nick. Their caring for each other was lovely to see.

"I've brought Martha to visit you. Martha lives in Ketchikan."

Davey shook his head doggedly back and forth in active denial of her presence. Nick had been right about Davey's eyes; they were bottomless pools of sadness. "Nick," Davey demanded more loudly.

Nick removed his hand from Martha's waist and strode forward, picking the boy up in his arms. He walked slowly back to where Martha stood.

"Martha, this is Davey." His pride in the boy was clear from the loving way he gazed down at him.

"Hello, Davey," Martha said, quietly and gently. She smiled. "I'm very happy that Nick brought me to see you." She longed for this meeting with Davey to go well because it seemed to mean so much to Nick. She wanted to reach out and touch the boy, but from the way he shrank away from her, she knew that this would be the wrong thing to do.

Davey stuck his face in the opening between the collar of Nick's shirt and his neck. He refused to raise his head.

"Come on," Nick said, his eyes warning Martha to be cautious and not to make a fuss over Davey right now. "Let's go inside and meet Hallie."

Martha pointed to her canvas tote bag, where she carried two dozen of her latest batch of chocolate-chip cookies. She'd brought them in hopes that they'd win Davey over, and she raised her eyebrows now in a silent question, but Nick shook his head.

"Wait," he mouthed silently to her, and just as silently Martha nodded her understanding. Presenting cookies to Davey at this point might create more of a problem than it solved. He clearly wasn't ready to admit Martha's presence here. Martha had the idea that if Davey were able to talk, he'd say without hesitation, "Go away."

They had barely reached the wide front porch when Hallie stepped outside, smiling broadly. She was a stout dumpling of a woman with a sweet face. "I'm so glad to meet you," Hallie said, taking Martha's hand and wringing it.

"Nick's told me so many good things about you," Martha said.

Hallie laughed. "I should be the one telling you good things about Nick," she replied with a meaningful look in his direction. "I've often told him he needs a—girlfriend." Hallie had been about to say that Nick needed a wife, but she'd changed her mind at the last minute. This Martha Rose might not have marriage in mind. The way she looked at Davey, and the way Davey refused to look at Martha—well, there was no telling how that would go. Nick had never brought a woman here before, but Hallie approved of this one. Martha was not only beautiful but had a kind face.

Martha, trying to dismiss Davey's behavior and take heart from Hallie's, studied Nick's cabin with interest. He'd told her about it and how his father had built it of logs he had cut himself from the surrounding forest. Nick had knocked out the original small windows and replaced them with larger ones with a spectacular view of Mooseleg Bay. He'd also extended the cabin by adding two bedrooms and a bathroom for himself and Davey after the boy came to live with him.