“My father doesn’t—” She broke off the question, realizing she was heading into dangerous territory.
“Blame me for Abby’s death?” Shane finished, a hard note in his voice. “Some days he does, some days he doesn’t. But he does blame me for your
leaving and never coming back.”
“That wasn’t because of you.”
“Wasn’t it?” He tilted his head, giving her a considering look. “What’s making you so jumpy, Lauren? Don’t tell me it’s just the water. You don’t like being alone with me.”
“I got over you a long time ago. It was a teenage crush, that’s all. It’s not like I’m still attracted to you. I don’t think about you at all. I am way,
way
over you. I’ve moved on.”
“Are you done?” he asked when she finally ran out of steam.
“Yes.”
He eased up on the throttle so abruptly, she stumbled right into his arms. Her lips had barely parted in protest when his mouth came down on hers, hot, insistent, demanding the truth.
She should break it off, pull away . . . but God, he tasted good. She felt seventeen again, hot, needy, reckless, on the verge of something incredible and exciting and . . .
She had to stop. Finally, she found the strength to push him away. She stared at him in shock, her heart pounding, her breathing ragged.
He gave her a long look in return. “Yeah, I’m over you, too.” He put his hands back on the wheel.
Okay, so her body still had a thing for him. That didn’t mean her head or her heart intended to go along. Loving Shane had only gotten her a heart full of pain.
“I’m glad we’ve settled that,” she said sharply.
“Me too.”
A tense silence fell between them, and the air around them grew thicker, colder, and damp. Her hair started to curl and a fine sheen of moisture covered her face. As they rounded the point, a silvery mist surrounded them. Her father had often spoken of the angels that danced above the bay, that watched over and protected them. She’d believed him with the innocence of a child, but she’d lost her faith when Abby died. What kind of angel could let a fifteen-year-old girl be killed?
She felt a wave of panic as the mist enveloped them in a chilling hug, and had to fight a powerful desire to fling herself back into Shane’s arms.
Why are you fighting? He’s the man you’ve always wanted.
The voice wasn’t in her head; it was on the wind. She certainly hadn’t said the words, because they weren’t true. She didn’t want Shane—not anymore.
A melodic laugh seemed to bounce off the waves, as if the ocean found her amusing. She shook her head, forcing the fanciful thought away. She didn’t believe in angels, or much of anything. Believing in someone always led to disappointment.
She let out a breath of relief as the fog lifted, and a beam of light danced off the waves ahead of them—her father’s boat.
Shane’s boat was moving faster now. They’d reach the
Leonora
within minutes. But then what? “How will we stop him?” she asked.
“We’ll pull up next to him. If he doesn’t stop on
his own, one of us will have to jump onto his boat and take over.”
“Excuse me? Did you say one of us is going to jump between the boats while they’re
moving
?”
“It’s not that difficult.”
“Well, it won’t be me,” she declared.
“Then you can drive.”
She didn’t like that scenario, either. “I haven’t driven a boat in a long time.”
“You can do it. Take the wheel now. Get comfortable with it. I’ll see if I can get your dad on the radio.”
She gripped the wheel with tight hands as Shane tried to raise her father on the radio.
Nothing.
When they neared the
Leonora,
she could see her father standing inside the cabin. The door was closed and he seemed oblivious to their presence. Shane switched frequencies, and the sound of music blasted through. Her father had always loved opera—a strange passion for a simple fisherman, but he found some affinity between the music and the sea.
“I don’t think he can hear us,” Shane said. “Bring the boat as close as you can.”
“Are you sure you don’t want to drive it?”
“Just hold her steady, Lauren. I’ll jump onto your dad’s boat and drive him back. You can follow us.”
“You’re going to leave me alone on this boat—on the ocean?” It had been a long time since she’d allowed herself to get into a situation she couldn’t
control, and this was
way
out of her comfort zone. “I don’t think I can do this.”
He looked her straight in the eye. “You can.”
His words, his gaze, reminded her of a conversation from a lifetime ago when he’d handed her a helmet and taught her how to drive his motorcycle. He’d always pushed her beyond her limits, forced her to believe in herself.
“You want your father back or not?” he challenged.
She lifted her chin and drew in a deep breath. “You jump. I’ll drive.”
“Good. Don’t worry, I won’t let you out of my sight. It took me a long time to save enough cash to buy this boat. I don’t intend to lose it.”
“I’m touched by your sentiment.” While she was getting dreamy-eyed about their past, he was thinking only of his boat.
“Just stay close, Lauren. I don’t feel like going for a swim, even though I’m sure you’d enjoy tossing me into the sea.”
She bit down on her lip as Shane went to the side of the boat. She wasn’t worried about him, he could take care of himself. Fearlessness was part of his makeup. He wasn’t a man to sit on the sidelines and wait for someone else to take charge, and right now she was grateful for that.
Shane stepped over the rail, paused for a second, and then jumped, landing on the fishing platform on her father’s boat. He stumbled slightly, then straightened
and yanked open the door to the cabin.
Her father finally turned his head. He exchanged a few words with Shane, then Shane took over at the wheel. A moment later his voice came over the radio. “Let’s go home, Lauren.”
His words brought a bittersweet rush of emotion. Angel’s Bay wasn’t her home now, and it never would be again.
It took about twenty minutes to get back to the marina. Shane kept in constant contact on the radio and Lauren stayed as close to her father’s boat as possible. She breathed a sigh of relief when she drove the boat into the slip. Shane came on board to tie the lines down while she joined her father, who was waiting for her on the dock.
His khaki pants and black windbreaker hung loosely on his thin frame. He’d lost weight in the years since she’d last seen him, and he’d aged quite a bit. His dark hair was all gray now, including the stubble on his cheeks. He stood with his shoulders hunched, but he didn’t seem concerned about his jaunt out to sea. She didn’t know if that was good or bad.
When he saw her his eyes widened with surprise, followed by what appeared to be teary emotion. He shook his head as if he couldn’t believe she was there, and she felt a rush of guilt at all the years she’d let go by. This man was her father. He’d tucked her in at night, scared away the monsters under her bed, been there for her—well, some of the
time.
Maybe they hadn’t shared a lot of common interests, but they were connected by blood, by love. How could she have let him go? How could she have forgotten what they were to each other?
“Hi, Dad,” she said softly.
“Abby.” He held out his arms. “My sweet, precious girl. You’ve come back to me at last. I’ve missed you so much.”
Lauren’s heart came to a crashing halt. “I’m Lauren, Dad. I’m not Abby. I’m Lauren,” she repeated, seeing disappointment and fear fill his eyes.
“What have you done with Abby?” he asked in confusion, his arms dropping to his sides. “What have you done with your sister?”
Suddenly it was easy to remember why she’d left, and why she’d stayed away so long.
“Our daughter will need her father, Colin.” Kara Lynch gently stroked her husband’s hand. His skin was cool, and she wondered if he could feel the chill of fall in the air—if he could feel anything. It had been three months since he had lapsed into a coma after being shot in the head. For those three months she’d talked to him, held his hand, kissed him, played him music, brought in friends and family, and put his hand on her pregnant belly, hoping that something would wake him up and bring him back to her. But Colin remained silent and motionless, his face a mask of calm.
Her gregarious, stubborn Irishman with the sun-kissed blond hair, bright green eyes, and big, generous heart was a ghost of his former self. Colin had always been big and sturdy, built like a football player. He was a natural-born protector and he’d
loved being a police officer, keeping the town and the people he cared about safe. But that love had brought him to this, shot down in his patrol car by a madman.
Colin had lost twenty pounds in the past three months. His hair had darkened from the lack of sunlight, and she hadn’t seen his eyes open and alert since he’d waved good-bye to her before he’d left on patrol that night.
She felt him slipping further away from her every day, and she was desperate to bring him back. The doctors had warned her that his condition could be permanent, but that wasn’t a possibility she could accept. She was going to have a baby soon, and she couldn’t do that without him. This was the child they’d spent years trying to conceive. This was their miracle baby.
Kara drew in a sharp breath, worried that she’d already used up her one miracle. But she had to stay positive. Colin would expect that of her. He was the one who believed in the angels, the legends that had surrounded the town of Angel’s Bay since its inception a hundred and fifty years ago, when a ship named the
Gabriella
had gone down in a storm outside the bay.
The twenty-four survivors of that wreck had named the bay for their loved ones who had lost their lives, the angels who would forever watch over them and their descendants. Kara was descended from one of those survivors, and the baby she and
Colin had created could trace her bloodline back to the original Murray family. If anyone deserved a miracle, it was her daughter, a child who would need her father.
“You have to wake up, honey,” she said forcefully. “I know you’re tired, and you’ve been resting a long time. That’s okay, because if anyone deserved a break, it was you.” She pushed a lock of hair away from his forehead. Colin had always worn his hair short, and he’d probably hate that she’d let it go so long. But his growing hair was one of the few things that reminded her that he was still alive, and some days she desperately needed that reminder.
“I miss you, Colin. I miss your arms around me, the way you laugh, even that awful smacking sound you make when you eat your cereal in the morning. I miss seeing you drink milk out of the carton, your clothes on the end of the bed, the way you hold on to me when you sleep, as if you can’t bear to let me go. I miss us.” She had to fight to hold back the tears. “I can’t do this alone. You’ve been my best friend since kindergarten. You said we’d always be together. You
have
to come back to me. Please.”
Not even the smallest flicker of his eyelid. Could he hear her? The doctors and nurses told her she should keep talking, but who really knew if Colin was listening? Maybe she was just talking to herself. She tried to push away the doubt, but she was tired, and that’s when the fear set in—when she wondered if he would ever wake up, or if she would spend the
rest of her life talking to a man whose soul had long since departed.
Stretching her arms over her head, she let out a sigh. She should probably go home. It was almost nine o’clock and visiting hours were long over, not that anyone would kick her out. The people who ran the Bayview Care Center were kind and compassionate. Most of the patients at the long-term-care facility were elderly, but there was another woman down the hall who’d been comatose for almost five years after an automobile accident.
Kara didn’t like to think about her.
A knock came at the half-open door, and she was surprised to see her older brother, Shane, walk into the room. While everyone in her family had been supportive, their visits to the clinic had dwindled in recent weeks, and she couldn’t blame them. Despite her efforts to make Colin’s room bright and cheerful, it was still a sterile environment and the disturbing smells of bleach and sickness lingered in the air.
She started to get up, but Shane waved her back down.
“How’s it going?” he asked.
His gaze moved to Colin, where it rested for a long minute. Shane was one of the few people who actually looked at him. Most people were either afraid or too uncomfortable to acknowledge his presence. Even Colin’s parents had difficulty looking at their son when they came to visit. She was sure that’s why they hadn’t been back in a few weeks.
“It’s all right,” she said. “Nothing’s changed.”
He glanced back at her. “You’ve been spending a lot of time here.”
“I don’t know where else to be. If you’re going to tell me not to come—”
“I wouldn’t dream of it.”
“Good, because I’ve already heard it from Mom and Dad and everyone else who thinks I should be moving on with my life. How can I do that? I can’t give up on him, can I?” She paused, shaking her head. “I can’t believe I just asked that out loud. I’m more tired than I thought.”
“No one would think less of you if you decided not to spend so much time here.”
“I’d think less of me. I’d be a horrible wife.”
His eyes darkened with compassion. “No, you wouldn’t. You’ve been incredible, Kara. Colin wouldn’t want you sitting here day after day.”
“He’d do it for me.” She looked at her husband and knew that was the absolute truth. Colin had always been devoted to her. His love had never known any bounds.
“He would,” Shane agreed, “but I don’t think you’d want him to.”
Shane might be right, but it was too soon to think about staying away. “So why are you here? Not that I’m not happy to see you, but is there another reason?”
He dug his hands into the pockets of his jeans. “Just checking in.”
Something in his eyes belied his words. Though she and Shane were only two years apart, she rarely
knew what he was thinking, and never what he was feeling. He was the least forthcoming of her four siblings, a man of few words, and many people in town considered him to be the black sheep of the family—the angry, moody rebel with a quick temper and a penchant for trouble. Some even considered him a murderer. But he was her brother, and she loved him, even if she didn’t always understand him.