In A Heartbeat
In A Heartbeat
Janice Kay Johnson
Forgiveness is a choice – love isn’tNate Hendrick’s and Anna Grainger’s lives were changed – and entwined – forever, in one terrifying instant. That’s all it took for Anna’s husband to die saving the life of Nate’s daughter. Battling heartache and guilt, Nate offers Anna the only consolation he can: a place for her family to stay while she figures things out.Neither expects the arrangement to be anything more than a convenience, but as their families come together, old wounds begin to heal and hearts mend. Nate knows they have a chance to salvage something beautiful from tragedy–if Anna can ever truly forgive him.
Forgiveness is a choice—love isn’t
Nate Hendrick’s and Anna Grainger’s lives were changed—and entwined—forever, in one terrifying instant. That’s all it took for Anna’s husband to die saving the life of Nate’s daughter. Battling heartache and guilt, Nate offers Anna the only consolation he can: a place for her family to stay while she figures things out.
Neither expects the arrangement to be anything more than a convenience, but as their families come together, old wounds begin to heal and hearts mend. Nate knows they have a chance to salvage something beautiful from tragedy—if Anna can ever truly forgive him.
An author of more than ninety books for children and adults (more than seventy-five for Harlequin), JANICE KAY JOHNSON writes about love and family—about the way generations connect and the power our earliest experiences have on us throughout life. A USA TODAY bestselling author and an eight-time finalist for a Romance Writers of America RITA® Award, she won a RITA® Award in 2008 for her Harlequin Superromance novel Snowbound. A former librarian, Janice raised two daughters in a small town north of Seattle, Washington.
Also By Janice Kay Johnson (#u26416ed5-13a2-5021-9a99-72c96c0505e0)
Back Against the Wall
The Hero’s Redemption
Her Amish Protectors
Plain Refuge
A Mother’s Claim
Because of a Girl
The Baby Agenda
Bone Deep
Finding Her Dad
All That Remains
Making Her Way Home
No Matter What
A Hometown Boy
Anything for Her
Where It May Lead
From This Day On
One Frosty Night
More Than Neighbors
To Love a Cop
Brothers, Strangers
The Baby He Wanted
The Closer He Gets
Two Daughters
Yesterday’s Gone
In Hope’s Shadow
The Mysteries of Angel Butte
Bringing Maddie Home
Everywhere She Goes
All a Man Is
Cop by Her Side
This Good Man
Discover more at millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
In a Heartbeat
Janice Kay Johnson
www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
ISBN: 978-1-474-08288-4
IN A HEARTBEAT
© 2018 Jeannie Steinman
Published in Great Britain 2018
by Mills & Boon, an imprint of HarperCollinsPublishers 1 London Bridge Street, London, SE1 9GF
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“We didn’t have an Xbox, so Josh thinks he’s gone to heaven,” she said.
Nate grimaced. “Molly hasn’t touched it since Sonja and I split up. If I were a good father, I’d have played with her, but do you know what her favorite one is?”
Anna had to laugh. “Let’s see. Would it be Just Dance Kids?”
“Dear God, yes. I felt like an idiot when I danced in high school.”
She laughed again, even though it was impossible to imagine this man graceless. She was immediately ashamed of herself. Kyle had only died three months ago, and Nate Kendrick had played a role in the tragedy. She’d agreed to work for him because she was desperate, and for Molly’s sake. Becoming friends and confidantes wasn’t happening. Given his tall, lean body, the saunter that spoke of complete confidence and features that might be too rough to be called handsome, he had to turn women’s heads wherever he went.
I can’t be one of them, she thought desperately.
Dear Reader (#u26416ed5-13a2-5021-9a99-72c96c0505e0),
I hope I’m not too predictable, but I know I’ve returned to some of the same themes repeatedly in my Harlequin Superromance novels. Always love, but also family, the people who are missing in our lives, and the aftereffects of trauma or loss. Without intending any such theme, I’ve managed to combine all of that in this, my last Superromance.
His daughter, her kids, his troubled ex-wife and the blame game. Is Nate really a man who breaks promises? The heroine wants to blame him for her husband’s death—but is that fair? And what kind of relationship can they possibly have when Nate also turns out to be the support Anna so desperately needs when she finds her husband’s death left her and their two children destitute? Imagine having to let yourself lean on the person you also want to hate—or, from his perspective, to fall in love with a woman whose devastation might be your fault.
Love never comes easily in my books!
Look for me next at Harlequin Intrigue. Different kinds of stories, but I feel sure you’ll still see the forces that have always driven my characters.
Signing out,
Janice
I’ve been lucky to have worked with remarkably smart, strong, caring editors at Harlequin Superromance. To Victoria, Jane, Laura and Wanda: a huge thank-you. I wouldn’t be the writer I am without you.
Contents
Cover (#uc6c7f568-49ea-50c0-9d9f-8947291003db)
Back Cover Text (#u68d91339-6c7c-58c4-aed6-3b799555ea82)
About the Author (#u6001a782-716b-5e38-9731-eb70e0af2b2f)
Booklist (#u9c3e6017-a280-54d8-babc-260900a53d4e)
Title Page (#uf3ffedb1-f7e3-5e0e-bed6-93f2d64daa3b)
Copyright (#u8ea97efb-0ca3-5f9a-82db-b9430f1bf1d0)
Introduction (#u819b8d0c-6909-5c36-9d8f-b8a57c708325)
Dear Reader (#u3787ee01-d0b9-5e4f-bf95-aaa90ef61ea6)
Dedication (#u3bf0627a-65d4-5385-a8da-9b96da7f3e35)
CHAPTER ONE (#u6abe2d61-6f51-53a7-a786-cbb93dea7933)
CHAPTER TWO (#u5004b65f-edf3-5f0b-a18d-b91d6dcd135c)
CHAPTER THREE (#u0711ba5d-1b41-5588-8894-fd7f6af49cf8)
CHAPTER FOUR (#ub36cb199-693e-5dda-b9e9-4954a1a60589)
CHAPTER FIVE (#uafb08abc-8359-5265-9b8c-47eb2c98b5a6)
CHAPTER SIX (#uecb5cf35-0e03-5997-a35d-d82692bd0052)
CHAPTER SEVEN (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER EIGHT (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER NINE (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER TEN (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER ELEVEN (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER TWELVE (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER THIRTEEN (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER FOURTEEN (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER FIFTEEN (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER SIXTEEN (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER NINETEEN (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER TWENTY (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR (#litres_trial_promo)
Extract (#litres_trial_promo)
About the Publisher (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER ONE (#u26416ed5-13a2-5021-9a99-72c96c0505e0)
TRAFFIC WAS A BITCH, as always. Nate Kendrick ended one call when he was halfway across the I-90 bridge over Lake Washington and resigned himself to making the one he’d been putting off. Sonja would be pissed.
Nothing new about that.
She answered immediately, her tone suspicious. The minute she heard what he had to say, she screeched, “You always do this! What’s your excuse this time?”
“I’m putting together a deal. It was supposed to be a go today, but one of the major investors got cold feet overnight. I have to find a replacement.”
The silence unnerved him, since it was unlike her. Still quietly, she said, “Do you know how many thousand times I’ve heard that?”
“You knew what I did when you married me.” Venture capitalism was high-risk, high-adrenaline and sometimes high-flying, like when a company in his portfolio went public in a big way or sold to an industry leader for a billion or more. You did not succeed in the business by taking a working day off to accompany a mob of six-and seven-year-olds to the beach. Or was it a river park? Nate couldn’t remember.
“Some of us want an actual life.” She sounded sad. Playing him. “I, for one, want my daughter to love me enough to come home for Christmas when she’s an adult.”
“Goddamn it, Sonja,” he growled.
“We’ll be fine without you.”
Call ended.
Of course they would be. He loved his daughter, even as he knew she’d been slipping away from him since the divorce. But being one of two partners in a venture-capital firm meant demands that were never-ending. Who’d put Molly through college, if not him? Certainly not Sonja, who lived on her settlement from him. The settlement she wouldn’t get if he crashed and burned.
Traffic opened up enough for him to merge onto I-5 for the short distance into downtown Seattle. By then he’d already taken the next call, obliging him to accept a no answer with outward amiability. But he and this guy would do business together again, so he ignored another incoming call to chat about the investor’s son, excited about starting at Stanford this fall. Molly was ten years away from making any college decisions, thank God. Long practice let him think furiously as he talked.
What was his next best possibility? Stu Gribbin? He tended to like start-ups better than on-the-ground manufacturing, but it was worth a try.
Exiting from the freeway onto crowded streets hemmed in by tall buildings, Nate decided to wait to make the next call until he reached his office. He’d long since jettisoned his daughter’s summer day camp field trip from his mind.
* * *
HONESTLY, THIS WASN’T the most exciting outing the camp director could have planned, but Melissa might have chosen the park without actually having visited it.
Anna Grainger wasn’t complaining. Lounging on the picnic table bench with Kyle while the nearly forty kids ran off an excess of energy on the extensive mowed field was fine by her. From long habit, she kept an eye on her own two children—seven-year-old Josh and four-year-old Jenna—as well as the three additional kids she’d been assigned to supervise. All were buddies of Josh’s, participating along with him in a crazy soccer game that didn’t have any boundaries or rules she could see. Jenna had gravitated toward three or four other younger children also along for the field trip because their parents had volunteered to chaperone. Jenna didn’t have a shy bone in her body.
Anna reached for her water bottle and took a drink—tepid but wet. The coolers still held unopened cans of soda and bottles of water on ice that couldn’t have entirely melted, but she felt too lazy to get up.
“Couldn’t they just have taken the kids to a local school?” her husband asked idly, not at all put out. With his hands clasped behind his head and his legs outstretched, he didn’t look any more ambitious than she felt.
“You’d think so,” she agreed. “Except Melissa did promise we’d go down to the riverbank after lunch. There’s supposed to be a trail alongside.”
“It’s after lunch,” he pointed out.
“Mmm-hmm.” Wincing as Josh and another boy collided and crashed to the ground, she kept her eye on them until they jumped up, laughing and running back into the game.
“Some of the kids are heading that way,” Kyle observed. “Is anyone paying attention?”
Anna straightened, seeing that he was right. And, no, Melissa was refereeing a dispute between several quarrelsome boys, and Kimberly, one of the young assistants, had organized three-legged races that were winding up with most of the participants collapsed on the grass, giggling. Linda—no, she’d seen her escorting two girls to the bathroom facilities, such as they were.
“Maybe a parent,” she began uncertainly.
“I don’t see that little redhead.” Kyle sat up. “The girl?”
“Molly? Her mother’s here. She’s probably with—”
But she wasn’t. Anna spotted Molly’s mother, Shana—no, Sonja, that was it—right away, sitting at another picnic table texting or playing a game on her phone, her head bent over it. Molly had been in Josh’s class last year, and a couple times Anna had chatted casually with Sonja at special events.
Already on his feet, Kyle said, “I’ll go on ahead, just to be on the safe side. I can catch any eager beavers.” He set off at a trot across the field toward the band of trees along the Snoqualmie River.
For a second, she let her gaze linger on him. Unlike a lot of the other fathers, his body remained lean and athletic. By their mid-to late-thirties, so many men had started dressing to hide some softness around their waist, or had developed frown lines on their faces. Maybe stress did that; Kyle never seemed to feel a smidgen.
Disturbed by how acid that thought had been, Anna automatically checked on her daughter and the four boys. All were well.
A whistle shrilled and, like everyone else, she turned to the camp director. “Everyone, find your group leader! Time to head for the river, but stick with your adult.”
Kids who had been spread across the field, including those who had been drifting toward the river trail, ran back to the adults. Just as the boys and Jenna reached her, Anna heard a woman say, “Anyone see Molly?”
She turned. Sonja was scanning the area.
“A couple of the girls went to the bathroom,” another mother said.
“No, they’re back,” someone else said.
Anna stood. “Kyle thought some kids might have started toward the river, so he went ahead.”
The whistle blew again. “Everybody, freeze!”
The kids became as still as statues, eyes wide. “Parents, is anyone from your group missing? Do you have an extra?”
Kids and parents sorted themselves out. Only one child was missing: Molly Kendrick, who, with that bright head of hair, would have stood out, anyway.
Hyperventilating, Sonja cried, “But I was watching! I just...”
Just let her attention stray. Which almost any parent did on occasion, although this was a poor time and place to take her eyes off not only her daughter, but also the other three children she was supposed to supervise.
Skin tight beside her eyes, the middle-aged director, a wiry, energetic woman, said, “Anna, can you take my group, too, while I make sure your husband has found Molly?”
“You bet.” Smiling, she collected the additional three girls and said, “Okay, let’s start that way, but stay together.”
Melissa jogged ahead, disappearing into the trail through the trees. The rest of them followed in a clump.
Where was Kyle? If he’d located Molly, Anna thought he’d have ushered her back to join the group. On a tinge of fear, Anna glanced over her shoulder at the parking lot. Could Molly have wandered that way? Been lured into a car? The river wasn’t the only frightening possibility.
Seeing that Jenna was lagging, Anna said, “How about a piggyback ride, kiddo?”
“I’m tired.” She still napped and, really, had held out well today, considering.
Anna crouched to let her climb on, after which she walked faster. The older kids had no trouble keeping up. The nine of them reached the trail first, plunging into the cool, shadowy depths beneath the trees.
A minute later, José said, “Did you hear that?”
“No—” But then she did. It sounded like sobbing. She broke into a run, the kids thundering behind her.
She saw the river first, green and higher than it should have been in late June. All the rivers were, after the exceptionally rainy spring and early summer they’d had. Close to the shore, the water was clear enough for her to see rocks beneath the surface, which seemed placid, except...well, those ripples might be deceptive.
The supposed riverbank trail seemed to be partially overgrown with blackberries and other nuisances like salmonberries. But a small beach allowed passage along the water.
The screams reached a crescendo. Jenna bouncing on her back, Anna raced upstream toward Melissa, who crouched with her arms around the sobbing girl. Oh, dear heavens—Molly was soaked, head to toe. She’d gone into the water. Anna’s next thought was overwhelming relief. They’d come so close to a tragedy.
Somebody brushed by her. Sonja. She raced to her daughter and dropped to her knees. “What were you thinking? You know the rules!”
Molly cast herself into her mother’s arms and cried even harder.
Melissa straightened, her gaze going to Anna as she waited for her to approach.
Only then did Anna feel a faint drumbeat of apprehension. Where was Kyle? Shouldn’t he be here, too? Unless, once he was sure Molly was safe, he’d gone looking for other strays...
But she knew. She knew, even before Melissa drew her away from the boys, who stared in fascination at the girl who would be in so much trouble.
“Molly says—” Melissa swallowed. “She says she was being swept away, but Josh’s daddy went in the water after her. That he threw her toward the bank, but when she turned around he was being carried downstream. Then she couldn’t see him at all. He’s probably made it to shore somewhere, but I called 911 to be on the safe side.”
Anna began to tremble. “Kyle can’t swim.”
* * *
NATE IGNORED THE first two calls from his ex. He was having an intense conversation with another of his “angel” investors, who was on the fence about taking this opportunity.
“Send me what your analysts have, and I’ll take a look. But you know I’m leery of anything geared to the young twenties. Hell, I don’t understand most of it. Or them.”
Nate laughed. “Who does? But the money is in that market, whether we like to admit it or not.”
“Yeah, yeah,” John Reynolds grumbled, a note of humor in his voice. “Let me look, and I’ll call you back.”
“Good enough.”
Just as he ended the call, Nate heard the beep of yet another call coming in.
And, yes, it was his ex-wife again. What, she needed to let him know what a good time they were having without him? Irritated, Nate answered nonetheless.
“Sonja?”
“Nate, you know we were visiting a riverside park.” Her voice shook. “Molly sneaked away and waded out into the river. She...she got pulled out into the current. One of the fathers went in after her and managed to push her to a gravel bar. But Nate...he didn’t make it out. This man I don’t know died to save our daughter.”
“Jesus,” he whispered.
“And you couldn’t even answer your phone!”
Sidestepping the accusation, he said, “Molly. Is she okay?”
“She’s hysterical, how do you think she is?” Sonja’s voice was thickened by what had likely been a storm of tears. “We’re on our way to the hospital. She swallowed water and... I don’t know. She wants her daddy,” she said bitterly.
He seriously doubted Molly had expressed any such desire. Since the divorce, she’d grown increasingly shy with him. Each time he took her for a weekend, she acted as if she was being palmed off on a stranger.
He said simply, “Overlake Hospital?”
Background voices told him Sonja wasn’t alone with their daughter, thank God. She came back. “Yes.”
He strode out of the office. “I’m on my way. Wait for me there.” Pausing only to tell his assistant that he had an emergency, he went down the hall to the elevator.
As it dropped to the parking garage, Nate saw that he had missed texts, too. He’d felt the phone vibrating, but that was normal—texts piled up all day. This time, there were three from Sonja. The last one was all caps, multiple exclamation points.
MOLLY ALMOST DIED BECAUSE OF YOU!!! WHY WON’T YOU ANSWER YOUR PHONE????
Shit.
At least it was early enough that traffic should still flow. Tension riding him, he pushed the speed limit, weaving in and out, risking a ticket during this reverse commute to the Eastside of Lake Washington. Molly almost died because of you!!! What about the man who’d rescued his daughter? Had somebody really died, or had that been Sonja hyperbole?
Pain shot up his neck, wrapping around his temples and forehead. Fear, regret, guilt—they all churned in his belly.
He didn’t make it out. This man I don’t know died to save our daughter.
Overlake Hospital overlooked Highway 405 in Bellevue. Even so, after exiting the freeway Nate had to make several turns before he reached the parking garage beneath the hospital. Frustrated at each red light, he tapped his fingers on the steering wheel. In the garage, he took the first available open slot, ran for the elevator and rode up to the ground-floor emergency services.
A dozen people sat scattered throughout the waiting room, but Nate saw Sonja and Molly immediately, merged into one with his daughter on Sonja’s lap, head on her shoulder.
Sinking into the chair beside them, he said huskily, “Kiddo. How are you?”
The distress in Molly’s big eyes felt like a sucker punch to Nate’s belly. Instead of answering, she buried her head against her mother’s neck so she didn’t have to see him. Maybe it hadn’t been a punch. A knife twisting, instead.
Staring straight ahead, Sonja didn’t want to look at him, either, but she said in a near monotone, “The doctor says she swallowed a lot of water, that’s all. Mostly, she was petrified. I’d take her home, except I was too upset to drive. My car is still at the park. I’ll have to take a taxi.”
He ignored that. Of course he wouldn’t let her take a taxi, and she knew it. “What about the man? Was he brought here, too?”
Very slowly her head turned. Her eyes blazed, her lip curled. “So they could bring him back from the dead?”
The air left his lungs in a whoosh. “He really died?”
“You think I just said that?”
“No. I hoped they’d pulled him out.”
“They did. Dead.”
A man had died rescuing Nate’s daughter. Because I wasn’t there.
“Who is—” Oh, hell. “Who was he?”
“Kyle Grainger. His son, Josh, was in Molly’s class last year. Both of Josh’s parents came today.”
The searing words were bad enough, but the hatred in her eyes...
No wonder Molly had become so skittish around Nate. What had Sonja been telling his daughter about him?
“Is she here?” he managed to say. “Josh’s mother?”
“How would I know?”
What would he have said, anyway? I’ll come to your husband’s funeral in thanks for him saving my kid’s life?
“All right,” he said. “We can go pick up your car if you feel up to driving. If not, I’ll take you home. If you’ll give me the keys, I’ll have somebody bring it to your place.”
“Mr. Fixit,” she jeered. “But why not? Molly needs to go home, not drive all over the county.”
She was right, of course. Maybe he did suck at being a parent. He loved his daughter, though, and he’d have sworn she loved him, too. He worked long hours, but he’d spent a great deal of his off time with Molly. The one who had been shorted was Sonja, but he’d expected her to understand. But, hey, probably his marriage had been over a lot longer than he’d known.
Standing, he reached out for Molly. “Let me carry her.”
“No!” Shielding their little girl with her body, Sonja struggled to her feet. “She needs her mother. Just take us home. Then you can go back to work.”
Aware that people were staring, he clenched his teeth and said nothing. He might go back to work. Clearly, Sonja wouldn’t be inviting him in so he could talk to Molly about her terrifying experience. His beautiful house wasn’t much anymore but a place where he slept. He’d have happily let Sonja have it, but she’d wanted only money.
“If I stayed in this house, I’d keep thinking you might walk in the door anytime.” Her ringing endorsement of their marriage.
He walked beside his ex-wife and daughter down the corridor to the elevator. Molly clung to her mother and didn’t once look at him.
They had the elevator to themselves until it stopped at the lobby level, where the doors opened. A lone woman waited, blond hair falling out of an elastic, strands straggling around her too-pale, fine-boned face. She looked drained, as if she couldn’t summon the will to so much as step into the elevator even if she had pushed the button to call it.
Instinct drove Nate to take a step toward her. As he did, her vacant stare shifted from him to Sonja and Molly. Horror took over her face. Her eyes fastened on him, and she lurched back. The next thing he knew, she was hurrying away, walking faster and faster.
The elevator doors tried to close but bounced back open with him in the way. He didn’t move. It tried again, and finally he stepped back.
Not looking at Sonja, he said, “That was her, wasn’t it?”
“Yes.”
An impassive expression was his default. Inside, he’d been shredded. His heart raced. He didn’t think he’d ever forget the way the new widow had looked at him.
CHAPTER TWO (#u26416ed5-13a2-5021-9a99-72c96c0505e0)
THE MIDDLE-AGED WOMAN gazed at Anna with unmistakable pity. “You weren’t aware your husband cashed out his retirement fund?”
Given the past weeks, she’d grown increasingly numb, unable to feel much other than a crawling sense of fear. Pity couldn’t touch her.
She didn’t respond directly to the question. “When did he do that?”
“The week before...” She hesitated.
He died.
The matching fund wouldn’t have been much, given the short time Kyle had worked here, but anything would have been better than nothing.
Somehow she managed to nod and even smile as she rose to her feet. Pride was a wonderful thing. “Thank you. I so wish he’d kept better records.” Anna held on to her smile until she’d left the building and was making her way across the parking lot.
Better records? What she so wished was that her husband hadn’t been a fool. She’d begun to realize that much over the past few years, but her attempts to talk sense into him hadn’t made a dent. Learning how deceitful he’d been, that came as a surprise. He’d erased every bit of security she’d thought she had. And for what? She’d been so enraged to see the pittance he’d gotten when he cashed out his life insurance. It hadn’t developed much value, since they’d only purchased it when she was pregnant with Josh, but it would have been paid out in full now that he’d died—$100,000.
“I want to be sure you and any kids we have are taken care of,” Kyle had murmured in her ear after they’d left the insurance office. His smile had been so tender. “Even if something happens to me, you’ll have this.”
That shock had been the worst, if not the last. No insurance payout. No savings. No retirement funds. Over time, he had cashed out everything, often paying substantial penalties to do it. With what he’d gotten, he had made risky investments that all bombed, apparently certain each time that he’d make big money.
No, what she should wish was that she hadn’t been such a fool. She’d asked about money and investments, but allowed him to get away with explanations that didn’t quite make sense and reassurances that he had everything handled. Since he had been working and she hadn’t, she’d felt a little funny about demanding an equal financial partnership.
And yet Anna had grown increasingly uneasy and frustrated with Kyle’s inability to stick with a job. Early in their marriage, she had believed in him wholeheartedly, but by the time they started a family, she saw the pattern.
With each new job, he would start with great enthusiasm. Like clockwork, she’d watch that enthusiasm dim. He was bored. They weren’t making use of his talents. He’d start looking around for something better. “Today was the last straw,” he would finally declare, with great indignation. “I had to quit. But don’t worry, I won’t have any trouble finding a new job. A better one.”
He hadn’t, until the last time, two years ago. His inconstancy had begun to look bad on a résumé. It took two months before he was offered a position he grudgingly accepted. She’d cut every corner she could to get them through until a paycheck.
Kyle teased her for being a worrier. “Lucky you have me to provide balance.” How many times had she heard him say that?
In her car now, Anna put the key in the ignition but didn’t start the engine. She sat without moving, staring ahead blindly as her mind raced.
She’d have to take Josh out of day camp. One less bill. Except...then when she had to go out, she’d have to pay Mrs. Schaub more to watch both kids. He was happy with his friends at the camp. If she could find a job right away...
Waitressing? Being a receptionist? Day care? She could offer day care at home and not have to pay other people to watch her kids, but only if she could afford to keep the house, which she couldn’t. Substitute teaching for the local school district, even if the work proved to be reasonably steady, wasn’t an option. Given the area’s cost of living, the pay was inadequate, and as a part-time employee, she wouldn’t have benefits. Anyway—school didn’t start for another six weeks.
Fear cramped in her again at the reminder that in less than two weeks, she and the kids would lose their health insurance.
What it came down to was that no job she was qualified to do would pay the basic bills, never mind justify the additional day care. Staying home with the kids, not working for so many years, had been a mistake of monstrous proportion. She’d trusted the man she loved, who had been untrustworthy.
A man who’d willingly sacrificed his own life to save a young girl he didn’t even know.
How could she harbor feelings so bitter, so angry, for the funny, kind man who would do something like that?
How could she not?
She almost had to leave Josh at day camp until she could finish painting the entire interior of their house and pack enough of their possessions to make it ready for prospective buyers to view, she concluded. At least Jenna took naps and was usually able to play quietly while Mommy scrubbed and painted and sorted. With his energy level, Josh couldn’t be as patient.
Maybe there’d be a quick sale. But her panic didn’t subside, and for good reason. Even if the house sold at full price, she wouldn’t end up with all that much money. The market had sagged since they’d bought the modest rambler in Bellevue. They hadn’t spent the money they should have to update it. Increasingly, people expected granite countertops, skylights, hardwood floors, not aluminum windows, ancient Formica, worn beige carpets.
The real estate agent had strongly advised new carpet, at least. Anna could put that on a credit card and pay it off once the house sold. Other improvements were out of reach.
She had no choice but to move away. The Seattle area was chasing San Francisco and New York City for the most expensive places in the country to live. Of course, salaries would be lower in Montana or eastern Oregon or wherever else she went, too. At the very least, she’d have to find a college town where she could take classes to refresh her teaching certificate or make herself employable doing something besides hoisting a heavily laden tray or answering phones.
When finally the tension eased enough to leave her limp, she started the car and saw the dashboard clock. She’d been chasing herself on the hamster wheel for twenty minutes. Twenty wasted minutes. Usually, she put off her frightened scrabbling in search of solutions until bedtime. Who needed sleep when you could lie rigid in the dark and try to figure out how to survive with two young children when you had next to no money?
Anna had never imagined being so close to having no home at all.
* * *
THE ONLY LIGHTS in the family room were one standing lamp and the ever-shifting colors of the TV. Through the window, Nate saw the glitter of lights across the lake in Seattle and a few sparkling on the mast of a boat gliding through the dark water.
Staying unnoticed in the doorway, he glanced at the TV to see what Molly was watching. The Lego Movie. Amusing, as he recalled.
He switched his attention to his daughter, who had curled into the smallest possible ball in the corner of the sofa. She clutched a throw pillow in her arms as if it was a flotation device—all that would keep her from drowning. He’d swear she hadn’t blinked in at least a minute. She was either mesmerized by the movie or not seeing it at all.
At least she wasn’t watching Moana again. That one, with the tense father/daughter thing going, made him uncomfortable.
All she’d wanted since he’d picked her up this morning was to watch a succession of DVDs. Having a waterfront home on Lake Washington used to be a plus. Today, she’d been careful to keep her back to the view of the lake. Okay, that was understandable, but she hadn’t wanted to ride her bike, which he kept in his garage, either, or play a board game. He’d bought two skateboards a while back, one child-sized, one adult, along with pads for knees and elbows and helmets. Sonja didn’t approve, of course, but skateboarding on the driveway was one of the few activities done with her father that had delighted Molly. Today? “No, thank you, Daddy.”
After thanking him politely and refusing to go out to a pizza place they both liked, she nibbled at what he put in front of her for lunch and dinner. She hadn’t talked any more than she absolutely had to.
Abruptly, he’d had enough.
He flicked on the overhead light and strode to the sofa, where he grabbed the remote and turned off both DVD player and television.
Molly sat up. “Daddy!”
“That’s enough, honey. You haven’t taken your eyes off that TV all day. You and I need to talk.” He sat on the middle cushion, within reach of his kid.
Her lower lip pooched out. “I was watching the movie!”
“How many times have you seen it?” Unsurprised that she didn’t answer, he said, “Often enough to know how it ends.”
She bent her head and stared at her lap.
He reached over and gently tipped up her chin. Her big eyes, a vivid green, finally met his.
“I know falling in the river scared you. But keeping everything you feel inside isn’t healthy. You haven’t told me yet what really did happen.”
She mumbled something about her mother.
“I need you to talk to me, too.”
Tears shimmered in her eyes. “Mr. Grainger is dead,” she whispered. “Like Tuffet.”
Tuffet had been her cat, named because he’d let her lie on him whenever she wanted. When Sonja had moved out, she’d taken the cat along with Molly. According to Molly, Tuffet got sick and died. Sonja had admitted to him that the cat had somehow slipped out and been hit by a car.
“I know,” Nate said now, tugging Molly over to lean on him.
“Mommy says it’s your fault, because it was hard to watch so many kids at the same time.” Even her intonations parroted her mother’s. “If you were there, you coulda watched me.”
“That’s true,” he had to say, “but most of the kids only had one parent along, didn’t they? And were assigned three other kids.”
After a hesitation, her head bobbed against him.
His eyes stung from unfamiliar grief mixed with the rare joy at holding her in his arms. He’d loved his little carrottop with unexpected ferocity from the minute the doctor had handed over the beet-red, squalling newborn. If she’d drowned... Even as he shied away from an inner vision of her limp, lifeless, pallid body, his heart cramped painfully.
“Mommy said it’s my fault, too, ’cuz I did something I wasn’t s’posed to.”
Sharp anger supplanted the pain. Molly was old enough to take responsibility for her actions, but not to confront that kind of guilt. What the hell was Sonja thinking?
“Okay.” He shifted to allow him to see her face, wet with tears. “Here’s the thing. Kids break rules all the time. They hide from their parents, or they run from them because it’s fun to be chased. They sneak an extra cookie, or feed an icky food to the cat instead of eating it the way Mommy said they had to.”
She’d quit blinking again, but she was listening.
“I broke my arm when I wasn’t much older than you because I climbed a tree after my dad said I couldn’t. My brother and I used to climb out a skylight to sit on the roof at night, too.”
Her eyes widened. “Did you fall off?”
“No, and your grandma and grandad never caught us.” Of course, there was the time Adam had jumped off, but that was another story.
Her forehead crinkled, and she gave a small nod.
Give your kid ideas, why don’t you?
“The point is, kids don’t always do what their parents or other adults say. Once in a while, they even hurt themselves, like I did when I broke my arm. But it would never have occurred to me that someone else might get hurt because of what I did. That’s because it almost never happens. You didn’t mean it to happen.”
Nate was disconcerted to realize he couldn’t tell what she was thinking. He forged on, anyway.
“Why did you sneak away?”
She didn’t want to answer, but finally said, “I was bored. I was s’posed to stay with the other girls Mommy had to watch, but they didn’t want to play with me. And anyway—” she began to sound indignant “—Melissa said we were going to the river, but instead there was this big, boring field, and I didn’t want to play soccer or run dumb three-legged races or just sit there. Mommy wasn’t any fun, ’cuz she was—” She shrank from him in alarm at what she’d almost said.
Sonja was what? He decided not to press; asking Molly to betray her mother, if that was the case, would only do more damage.
“I would give anything to have been able to come with you that day,” he said finally. “But I can’t go back and make a different decision.”
She nodded solemnly.
“I bet you feel the same.”
Her face crumpled and she swallowed, but nodded again.
“Same deal. You can’t go back. I’m more grateful than I can say to Mr. Grainger. I can’t imagine losing you.”
“But...Josh and his little sister lost their dad.” Tears fell anew. “Because of me. And...and I can swim.”
“Mr. Grainger knew that a girl your size couldn’t possibly be a strong enough swimmer to get out of the current. It pulled you away from the bank, didn’t it?”
Her head bobbed. “I was so scared, Daddy.”
“I doubt he expected to die. He probably thought he’d be able to put his feet down, because rivers aren’t deep like the lake, especially at this time of year. Or he hoped to reach a gravel bar or a snag he could grab. But because he wasn’t a good swimmer, he must also have known that he might be giving his life to save yours. And you know what?”
She waited.
“Wherever he is, I don’t think he regrets making that decision. Most adults would have made the same one.”
“But you’re a good swimmer,” she argued.
“Sure, I probably could have battled my way out of the river. But something could happen another time.” He groped for illustrations. “I might have to step out onto a ledge I know won’t support my weight so I can throw a little girl to safety before it gives way. Run out into traffic on the freeway to save a child, even when the chances are good that the cars won’t be able to stop and I’ll be hit.” He paused. “Do you understand?”
“Yes,” she whispered. “Would Mommy do that, too?”
“Of course she would,” he said, hugging Molly harder, even though he really didn’t know. For Molly, yes—whatever Sonja’s flaws, she loved her daughter. Otherwise? He hated that he even had to wonder.
“I wish...”
“I know, punkin, I know.” He rested his cheek on the top of Molly’s head. She’d talked to him. Thank God, for the first time in a long while she’d opened up.
Now he was left with that unfinished sentence. What had Sonja been doing while her daughter slipped away?
And what about the kids who’d lost their father? The woman who lost her husband? Every time he remembered that moment, her grief becoming horror when she realized who he was, the claws of guilt sank deeper into his flesh.
* * *
A MONTH LATER, Anna trotted down the sidewalk toward the nearest park. Wanting to stay aware of traffic, she hadn’t yet turned on her iPod. There was a time she’d exercised when Kyle was home with the kids. Now, she had to pay Mrs. Schaub to watch Jenna for even this brief escape. Today she was killing two birds with one stone—awful saying that it was—because a real estate agent was showing her house. She knew he actually was, because she hadn’t gone a block when she’d heard an engine and glanced back to see a gleaming silver sedan turning into her driveway.
If there wasn’t an offer soon, she’d have to go to the bank that held the mortgage and explain why she couldn’t make her payments. She prayed they’d give her some time although, of course, the unmade payments, and presumably a penalty, too, would then come out of the already too-skimpy proceeds when the house did sell.
Running was supposed to be a time when she could zone out, but no more.
At least the park lay just ahead. The trail was packed dirt, easier on her knees. Reaching the last crosswalk, she scanned automatically for traffic, seeing only parked cars.
She’d stepped off the curb when alarm zinged through her. There’d been an odd glint of light, as if... Was that a camera pointing at her? Continuing across the street, she looked.
A man sat in a black SUV, the driver’s side window rolled down, and, yes, he was still pointing a camera with a huge lens at her.
The camera disappeared fast when he realized she’d seen him. When she broke into a run diagonally across the street toward the SUV, his window slid up. With the glass tinted, she couldn’t make out his face.
Maneuvering out of the parking spot was taking him too long, though. Maybe this was stupid, but Anna harbored so much anger atop her fear these days, she didn’t care if this was dangerous. She flung herself at the driver’s door and hammered on the window, yelling “Stop!”
He edged forward. She leaped in front of his bumper, forcing him to brake or hit her. He braked. When she pulled her phone from the cuff on her upper arm, the window slid down.
She took a quick picture of the license plate before she confronted him. Taking courage from the presence of a couple across the street who’d started to get into their own car but were now gaping, instead, Anna glared. “Who are you, and why were you photographing me?”
Late thirties, early forties, the man was thin, pleasant-looking. Nondescript, really. “I’m a private investigator,” he admitted. “Ah, your insurance claim...”
“I made no insurance claim. I want to see your license.”
He produced it. His name was Darren Smith, and his employer was Moonrise Investigations.
“Smith? Really?” She handed it back.
Without a word, he tugged a wallet from his back pocket and flipped it open to show his driver’s license.
“Fine,” she snapped. And, crap, the couple were now getting into their car, believing the drama to be over. The busy playground was too far away for any of the parents to notice her. “I’m calling the police. You’ll have to run me over to get away.”
She tapped in 911. Before she could push Send, he swore and said, “Don’t do that. I’ll tell you.”
Anna let her thumb hover over her phone. “Talk.”
“I was hired by a Mr. Nathan Kendrick.”
The name hit her like a sledgehammer.
“He wanted to know what’s going on with you, that’s all. Be sure you and the kids are okay.”
Fury burned through her. “You’ve been taking pictures of my children without my permission?”
“Ah...”
“You son of a bitch,” she said bitingly. “I bet your employer won’t be thrilled when I file a lawsuit. With a little luck, you can kiss that license goodbye!”
Unable to look at him for another second, she ran up the street until she could easily dodge into the park. If she’d had the house to herself, she’d have gone straight home. Jogging held zero appeal, but she grimly started in on her laps through the park, anyway.
Once free to go home and shower, she would pay a visit to Nate Kendrick, the man whose own ex-wife blamed for Kyle’s death.
CHAPTER THREE (#u26416ed5-13a2-5021-9a99-72c96c0505e0)
DESPITE A FRACTURED ability to focus, Nate was doing his best to work through email when his desk intercom buzzed.
His assistant, Kim Pualani, said apologetically, “A woman is here to see you. She doesn’t have an appointment, but says you’ll know who she is.”
He braced himself. “Her name?”
“Ah...Ms. Grainger. Anna Grainger.”
Kim knew what had happened and must have guessed this visit had to do with the tragedy.
“Send her in,” he agreed, although talking to Kyle Grainger’s widow was the last thing he wanted to do after taking the call from the PI.
“She’s on the warpath,” Smith had warned.
But Nate didn’t see an alternative to letting her lay into him. He couldn’t guess whether she’d accept an apology or anything else from him, but he had to try.
The door swung open, allowing him a glimpse of the woman he’d seen so briefly that day in the hospital. He rose to his feet as she walked in and Kim closed the door behind her. At least now, past the shock, Mrs. Grainger was vitally alive, if also furious. The red spots on her cheeks would have told him that much, even without the PI’s warning.
Nate had the uncomfortable realization that he could be attracted to this woman, long and sleek, honey-blond hair captured smoothly in some arrangement he couldn’t see, her dark blue eyes snapping with the same anger that accented high, perfectly honed cheekbones.
He didn’t even want to imagine how she’d react if she guessed her effect on him.
“Mrs. Grainger,” he said. “I’m glad you’re here. I’d intended to stop soon at your house to speak to you. Please, have a seat.”
She marched forward until his desk blocked her. Obviously, sitting down for a civil conversation wasn’t on her agenda. “Once you’d compiled your photographic record of every step I’ve taken? Every step my children have taken?”
“I didn’t ask—”
Anna Grainger talked right over him. “Do you have any idea how violated I feel? How enraged I am to discover someone has been spying on me? While he was at it, did your PI capture some suggestive pictures through a crack in my blinds? Or one of the kids undressing for bed? Which do you prefer, Mr. Kendrick, little girls or little boys?”
His own temper sparked, but with practiced calm he said, “You must guess why I hired a PI firm to monitor how you’re doing. I didn’t ask for photographs, and I haven’t seen any. All I’ve been given are verbal or written reports.”
Vibrating with fury, she snapped, “Then please explain why I caught that...that creep photographing me when I went for a run? Did you need to know I was getting my exercise? Should I reassure you I’m taking my vitamins?”
This wasn’t going anywhere good.
“Mrs. Grainger. All I wanted was to know how you and the kids were. Whether your husband had left you provided for.”
Unfortunately, part of the initial report provided the disturbing answer. Anna Grainger was close to destitute. Her husband had apparently lost all their money and then some in ill-judged investments. He seemed to have had a genius for making terrible decisions. It was possible they’d shared that genius, except her name hadn’t been on any of the paperwork Smith had been able to trace.
“That is none of your business,” she said. “I am none of your business. Do you hear me?”
“I hear you, and I disagree. A series of circumstances led to your husband losing his life to save my child’s life. That places me deeply in your debt.”
She laughed, a caustic sound. “Then I absolve you. I do not want anything from you.”
“I can’t accept that.”
Her head tipped. “What are you offering? Have you put a suitable price on Kyle’s head?”
Nate winced. He had considered offering her money, which she needed as much or more than having her wastrel husband back. He hadn’t thought of it that way, and now that he did, knew an offer would be ill-received. Still...
“If you sued me or my ex-wife, a court would determine a suitable settlement.”
“Blood money.”
He didn’t say anything.
“That, Mr. Kendrick, is why I won’t be suing you. When I caught your PI spying on me, I had every intention of suing his ass, and yours, too. But then everyone would think I was just trying to soak you for money in recompense.”
“You care what everyone else thinks?”
She stiffened. “I care what I think of myself. Butt out, Mr. Kendrick. One more hint that you’re stalking me and I’ll call the cops.”
Crap. He hadn’t thought of what he was doing that way, either.
“Will you listen to my offer first?” Not money. He’d had one other, wild idea, which he’d go with.
“Oh, by all means.”
“I’m guessing that you’re applying for jobs.”
Her shift of expression told him he was right.
“Let me offer you one. We have a large staff at K & L Ventures. Large enough that there are nearly always openings.”
“For a janitor, perhaps? Or do you run a day care down in some alcove in the garage? Well, probably not that, since you’d be depositing your own daughter in it, wouldn’t you?”
He opened his mouth, but she didn’t pause.
“What is it you think I can do, Mr. Kendrick? I have a teaching certificate, but my only classroom experience is student teaching. I’m not a whiz on a computer. Corporate finance? Well, no.” She abandoned sarcasm. “I don’t need your pity or charity. I don’t want anything from you. Is that clear?”
“You’re entitled to compensation for your loss.”
Anna Grainger snorted and stormed out of his office.
* * *
HER REAL ESTATE agent cleared his throat. “The house has only been on the market for six weeks, Mrs. Grainger. That’s not a long time.”
Usually, Alan Lang glowed with energy and enthusiasm. However, he had the kind of mobile face that he could rearrange at will. Right now, he was projecting encouragement and understanding.
Unfortunately, he probably understood her situation all too well. In his business, he’d know desperation when he saw it.
They sat in her living room, freshly painted, decluttered and as clean as she could make it. She’d become a tyrant about making both kids put everything away the second they were done with it. With kids the ages of hers, it took constant vigilance to be sure the house was ready to show at any time of the day or night. Not a dirty cup was left in the sink, a toothpaste smear on a bathroom countertop, a bed unmade or the lawn a quarter of an inch too long.
She’d been astonished to discover how often the doorbell rang during the dinner hour. Invariably, she’d find an apologetic agent on the doorstep asking if she’d mind if potential buyers just took a quick look.
“Of course not,” she’d say with a gracious smile. Like she could afford to say no.
She and her children were currently living an unreal life. A model family living in a model house, except she and the house both were unacceptably shabby.
This afternoon, Alan had stopped by ostensibly to pick up the business cards left by all the agents who’d showed the house. Anna knew he always followed up with a call to find out what the clients had thought. When he’d suggested they sit down and talk, a chill of apprehension had made her wish she had a sweater or sweatshirt at hand.
“When we bought this place, most houses were snapped up within twenty-four hours of being listed.” We. The very word gave Anna a pang that she had to shake off. “To buy one, you had to be in the right place at the right time.”
“With even a slight downturn in prices, the market favors buyers. I’m sorry to say that’s what we’re facing right now.”
“Okay,” she said cautiously. “But people are looking.”
“They are. Which I found encouraging at first.” He cleared his throat. “But now... We haven’t had so much as a nibble. The message I’m hearing from other agents is that the property is overpriced given the need for updates.”
Anna’s heart sank. He had set the price for her house higher than he’d liked in the first place at her insistence. She’d wanted to give herself room to negotiate. “You think we need to lower what we’re asking.”
“I suggest a twenty-thousand-dollar drop.”
She closed her eyes. Twenty thousand dollars—and offers would likely come in ten to twenty thousand dollars lower yet.
A couple calming breaths later, Anna met his eyes. As with so much else these days, she had no choice. She had to get out from under the mortgage, even if she walked away with nothing.
“Go for it,” she agreed, and saw his relief. He probably hadn’t expected her to be sensible.
A minute later, as she was showing him out, he commented, “You’ve kept the place looking good despite, er...” His cheeks reddened.
“Having a four-year-old and a seven-year-old living here?” She knew he wasn’t married and had no children yet. Even though he was probably close to her age, twenty-nine, Anna felt like a stodgy matron in comparison, their life experiences so vastly different. “You have no idea,” she said ruefully.
“Well.” He hovered briefly on the porch. “Let’s keep our fingers crossed this week.”
“Let’s,” she said, if somewhat drily.
After closing the door behind him, she stayed facing it as she battled panic. What if this drop in price wasn’t enough? What if...?
“Mo-om!” Jenna called from the bedroom.
Anna squared her shoulders, turned and put her game face on. She hoped the kids attributed to grief most of the stress they had to sense in her. Whatever else she did, she had to protect Kyle in their eyes. That’s what they needed—and what he’d earned with his sacrifice.
* * *
“CAN I STAY HOME?” Molly begged, sounding subdued. “I don’t feel very good.”
The minute Nate had seen who was calling, he’d known she or her mother would be making an excuse to keep her from spending the weekend with him. “Upset stomach?” he asked.
“Uh-huh.”
Two weeks ago, a friend whose name he didn’t recognize had asked her to a birthday party. Last minute, of course. He’d insisted on taking her out to dinner that Monday. She’d hardly met his gaze, nibbled at her pizza and mumbled a few words in response to his questions or remarks.
Phone conversations with her were useless. He kept having to say, “What?” or “I didn’t hear what you said.”
He’d learned that she hadn’t gone back to day camp. She didn’t know what teacher she’d have this year yet. When he asked if she was excited about school starting in less than two weeks, he got the verbal equivalent of a shrug.
The breakthrough he thought they’d made, talking honestly about the tragedy, had been a one-off. Molly didn’t want to talk to him, didn’t want to see him.
“You can be sick just as well here,” he told her now. “I’ll make you chicken-noodle soup, if you can keep it down, and rent some videos. I can give you hugs, too.”
Silence.
Grimly determined, Nate said, “Go get your mom, Molly. I’d like to talk to her.”
More silence. Waiting, he presumed she was doing as he asked.
“What?” his ex-wife snapped.
“What’s up with Molly?”
“She doesn’t want to go. What a surprise. Thash what happens when you let your daughter down nuff...e-nough times.” If she thought the careful correction helped, she was wrong.
“You’re drunk,” he said flatly.
“I’ve had a cup...couple a glash...glasses of white wine. So what?”
She’d been drinking too much the last year of their marriage. He hadn’t liked it then, and he liked it even less now that Molly was alone with her. Too often, when they spoke in the evening, he could tell she was plastered. If he thought she was drinking when she and Molly went out... But, so far, he had no indication that happened.
A lightning bolt struck. Had Sonja been taking nips from a bottle that day at the park? Was that what Mommy had been doing when Molly slipped away? Sickened, he wondered how he could find out.
“I’m on my way to pick up Molly,” he said. “I’m legally entitled to have her, and considering your state, she’ll be safer with me. I’ll be there in fifteen minutes. Have her ready to go.”
She was yelling at him when he cut her off. At least the other woman who had sliced and diced him recently hadn’t raised her voice.
Nate sat for a minute in his car before he felt patient enough to join the crazy after-six-o’clock traffic in downtown Seattle, laid out with one-way north-south streets and steep east-west streets, all inadequate for the number of cars that poured out of parking garages at this time of day. Usually, he avoided the mess by staying late. Eight, even ten o’clock, although he could just as well answer emails and do his research on his laptop at home. Traffic, he knew, was only an excuse.
He heard Sonja’s voice in his head. Some of us want an actual life.
That stung, because she was right. He didn’t have a life outside work anymore. Why bother? He liked the highs and lows on the job better than he had living with Sonja’s wildly swinging moods. Until another man died saving Nate’s little girl, he hadn’t seen any reason to change.
He shook his head and started the car. The one change he intended to make had to do with Molly. He wasn’t prepared to lose his daughter because his ex-wife had turned her against him.
He was lucky enough to find a parking spot close to the thirty-floor tower where Sonja had bought a condo. When Sonja opened the door, he saw Molly on the sofa with a packed, pink bag beside her. His once bright, cheerful child sat with hunched shoulders, her hair hanging over her face.
Sonja called him a few vicious names before he could usher Molly out. Once she was in the hall, he turned back and said quietly, “Next time, I’ll record you. You’d be smart to think twice before you use that kind of language in front of a seven-year-old child again.”
The door slammed in his face.
He took the bag from Molly and squeezed her shoulder with his free hand. When she stole a look at him, he said, “Let’s go home.”
* * *
WEEKS LATER, ANNA still kept a sharp eye out whenever she left the house, with or without the kids. Catching the PI in the act had taught her a lesson. She’d never be so oblivious again when she went about her business. Mad as she was at Nate Kendrick, at least she didn’t have to worry that he’d use what he had learned to hurt her or the kids.
Which didn’t mean she wasn’t humiliated all over again to find a message from him on her phone when she was waiting for her coffee to brew early Saturday morning.
“Doesn’t look like your house has sold yet,” he said tersely. “My offer is still open. Job or cash settlement. Is your pride more important than your kids?”
That was it. No “Hello,” no “Goodbye.” Her first, stupid thought was to wonder how he’d gotten her cell phone number. As if that mattered.
She stood there in her kitchen, barefoot but otherwise dressed, because she didn’t have the luxury anymore of hanging around in her pajamas, not with the For Sale sign up at the foot of the driveway. Anger, humiliation, dented pride—yes, pride—and fear roiled inside her thanks to Nate Kendrick’s terse message.
He was right. Dear God, he was right. But she’d meant it when she described his offer of a settlement as blood money. What if she had to explain to the kids someday that they’d been living on money from Molly’s dad, paid to alleviate his guilt? She had no doubt that, once she cashed the check, he’d breathe a sigh of relief and go back to his workaholic ways, confident he’d done the right thing. Men like him never made time for their children. They were too addicted to adrenaline, to the pursuit of what Anna’s grandfather had called “the almighty dollar.”
But, with her stomach knotted, she had to face hard reality. If the bank evicted her and the kids, what would she do? Go to a shelter?
She’d give anything to have family to fall back on, but there wasn’t anyone. After Mom died when Anna was eight, she had gone to live with Grandad. She was a sophomore in high school when he had his second stroke, after which she’d been placed in a foster home. His estate had put her through college. She’d been so sure she could take care of herself after that. If only she hadn’t married so quickly, gotten pregnant almost immediately.
No, she couldn’t regret that. Those decisions had given her Josh and Jenna. She couldn’t unwish them.
Anna poured herself a cup of coffee, adding more sugar and milk than usual in hopes of settling her stomach. She felt queasy even thinking about eating.
“Mommy?” Still in her nightgown, Jenna wandered into the kitchen. “Josh told me to go away.”
“Let me guess.” Anna smiled at her daughter. “You tried to wake him up.”
A miniature Anna, Jenna looked mutinous. “He didn’t have to sound so mean.”
“He also doesn’t need to get up for another hour. You know he isn’t a morning person.”
“Like us,” Jenna said with satisfaction, leaning against her mother.
Even as she felt the familiar sting of joy and fear, Anna bent down to hug her daughter. “That’s right. So what’s it going to be? Scrambled eggs and toast, or cereal?”
“I want oatmeal,” she declared.
Instant oatmeal, with lots of sugar, cinnamon and raisins, was a current favorite. Anna made herself have a small serving, too. Yesterday morning, she’d weighed herself before showering to find she’d lost nine pounds. No wonder her face had begun to look gaunt.
After breakfast, she ran a bath for Jenna and sat with her while her little girl pretended she was a mermaid, which involved splashing half the water in the tub onto Anna and the floor. Anna laughed and played along while keeping an ear cocked for the sound of the doorbell.
She had Jenna out of the bath and wrapped in a towel before she woke up her son. He chose oatmeal, too, and when she hustled both kids out to the car, he accepted the lunch she’d packed the night before. Normally Josh took the bus, but since she needed to do a few errands, she’d decided to let him sleep a little later and drive him, instead.
Once at the elementary school, she watched until he met with friends and went inside before starting for the parking lot exit. When her phone rang, Anna braked and grabbed it from the cubby between the front seats.
Alan Lang.
Her heart drummed. This was early for him to be calling. Could he have received an offer on the house?
Please, please, please.
CHAPTER FOUR (#u26416ed5-13a2-5021-9a99-72c96c0505e0)
NATE HAD TAKEN to driving by Anna’s house every few days. No Sold! banner had been tacked onto the For Sale sign planted in her yard.
Twice he saw her.
The first time, she was backing out of the garage, both kids with her. Probably on her way to drop her boy off at school. Nate was glad she didn’t see him even as he fretted about her car, which had to be ten years old, at least. The PI had told him that the Graingers owned a second, much newer vehicle, a Kia crossover, the Sorento. The Kia wasn’t in the garage. With her money tight, she’d been sensible to sell that one, even if it would have been more reliable. He wondered what else she’d had to sell.
The next time he caught a glimpse of her she was setting off on a run, wearing formfitting shorts and a tank top that didn’t hide much of her long-legged slim body. She headed down the sidewalk the opposite way he was going. Unable to tear his eyes from the rearview mirror, Nate almost ran a stop sign at the corner.
He called once more, not surprised when she didn’t answer. After the beep, he said simply, “Let me help, Mrs. Grainger. We can make it a loan, if you’d accept that. Once you’re on your feet again, you can pay me back.”
When that time came, he wouldn’t cash her checks, but he didn’t say that.
She failed to return his call.
What he wanted to do was buy her damn mortgage so she and the kids could stay in the house. He might have done it if he hadn’t felt sure that, given her pride, she’d pack up and move away, leaving him with a modest ranch house he didn’t want and her without whatever pittance she’d get out of the sale. Then he’d have to sell the place himself and track her down to make her accept her equity. If there was any. After some of the sky-high surges in prices in the Seattle area, people found themselves having to sell houses for considerably less than what they’d paid for them only a year or two earlier.
Checking the website of the real estate company listing her house, he saw that she’d had to drop the price a second time.
Worry about Anna Grainger and her two kids might explain the burning in his stomach he had begun to suspect was an ulcer. Or maybe it was worrying about his own daughter that had him taking antacids like a chain-smoker reaching for his next cigarette before the last had burned down. Or was guilt doing the damage?
He’d gotten tough with Sonja, which infuriated her. Without fail, Nate had Molly every other weekend. He also took her out to dinner at least once a week. Spending more time with her, he still couldn’t penetrate her shyness. Once in a while, they’d do okay talking about what kind of dog she wished she had or a movie or her new shoes. Anything touching on the accident, day camp and, especially, her mother shut her up fast.
One positive: at least Molly was no longer in the same school as Josh Grainger. After the divorce, Sonja had chauffeured Molly to Bellevue so she could finish the school year with her friends. This fall, Molly had started in a Seattle elementary school.
Of course, if that damn house ever sold, Josh would no longer go to Molly’s old elementary school, anyway.
Nate called Molly several evenings a week, too, even if all he got were whispered responses. “Uh-uh.” Or “uh-huh.” Nate had to believe his persistence would eventually pay off. In his mind, persistence was an essential quality to achieve success in the business world. Brains helped—charm, too, and the ability to see the real motives of other people. But refusing to quit was number one.
In his darker moments, he had to admit that persuading an investor to trust him might not be analogous to earning a seven-year-old girl’s trust, especially after he’d let her down in such a painful way. Had been letting her down since the divorce, he had come to see.
And then there was the fact that Molly’s mother was undoubtedly bad-mouthing him.
This was one of his off weekends. Nate went into the office for half a day Saturday, but was too restless to concentrate. Finally, he drove down to the waterfront and walked onto the ferry going to Bainbridge Island. It was something he did every few months when he needed to think. This being the first week of October, he was fortunate for such good weather.
Today, he stood outside on the prow and turned his face into the cooling wind. Sunlight glinted off the water, and the Olympic Mountains reared crystal clear on the skyline. Not much snow on them, given the time of year, but they were jagged enough to be impressive, anyway.
When Molly was younger, he’d taken her on ferry rides a few times. If the weather held, maybe they could do that some night this week. The sun was still up in the early evening, and he bet she’d be happy with the food from the café on board.
For once, he tried not to think.
Winslow was as beautiful as ever, with spectacular rocky beaches and cliffs, the picturesque small town tucked in a cove. A couple sailboats were making their way in or out of the marina right by the ferry terminal. Seagulls dove, screeching, and pelicans sat atop pilings. On occasion he’d considered buying a house here, commuting on the ferry instead of in his car. Maybe this would be a good time. He could bring Molly along to look at houses with him so she felt included in his choice.
He actually did feel somewhat more relaxed by the time the ferry docked in Seattle and he walked to his car.
At home he decided not to look at emails. He scanned his missed calls and texts, but didn’t return any of those, either. There was nothing that couldn’t wait until Monday.
He’d have distracted himself by cooking something elaborate for dinner, but lately he hadn’t done well stocking the kitchen. He ended up starting coals in the grill outside, and having a steak and baked potato for dinner. Then he turned on the TV, coasted through fifty channels or so and turned it off.
Mostly he read nonfiction because he never knew what knowledge would turn out to be useful in his job. Tonight he found a thriller he remembered buying and had never gotten to. It was gripping enough to keep his attention as the sun sank and shadows lengthened across the lake.
Dark had fallen when his phone vibrated on the end table. It was later than most people called. He picked up the phone to see Sonja’s number. She might be just drunk enough to want to berate him.
Nate rolled his shoulders and answered, anyway.
“Daddy?” The voice was small and scared sounding.
“Molly? Shouldn’t you be in bed?”
“I can’t make Mommy wake up.”
Oh, hell.
“Where is she, punkin?”
“She fell off the coach,” Molly whispered.
“Did she hit her head?”
“I don’t think so,” his little girl said uncertainly. “She was sick on the floor.”
“All right. I’m on my way. I’ll call for an ambulance, too.”
“I’m scared.”
“I know you are,” he said as gently as possible. “But I think your mom will be fine, and I’ll be there in ten or fifteen minutes. Okay?”
Her answer was shaky.
He’d never made the drive this fast. On the way, he called 911, repeating what Molly told him. If Sonja had dragged herself up by the time he and an ambulance crew got there, she’d be hideously embarrassed, but he couldn’t bring himself to care. Embarrassment was nothing compared to what she’d feel when he was done with her.
Rotating lights seen from a couple blocks away let him know the aid car had beaten him here. He was able to park right behind it. The two medics, carrying equipment and with a rolling gurney, were talking to the doorman, who from the sound of it didn’t like taking responsibility for letting them into a condo without authorization from someone higher up in management. The doorman’s relief was obvious when he recognized Nate, who joined the group and said, “I’m the one who called. I have a key.”
A key he’d pried from a reluctant Sonja shortly after she purchased this condo. She’d finally conceded Molly might need him sometime. Like tonight, he thought grimly.
They rode the elevator up to her floor. The minute he opened the door, he saw Sonja sprawled, unmoving, on the shaggy white rug by the sofa, a cascade of flame-red curls covering her face. Leaving his ex-wife to the EMTs, he called, “Molly?”
Hair straggling from her braid, Molly appeared in the hall. Wearing only a nightgown, she was so pale that her freckles stood out. “Daddy?”
He crouched. With a sob, she flung herself at him. His own eyes stung as she cried, her body shaking.
Damn Sonja, he thought viciously. How could she do this to her child?
Molly wiped her wet face on his shoulder and pulled back enough to whisper, “Is Mommy dead?”
“I don’t think so.” Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the paramedics working over Sonja. “Tell you what, why don’t you go get dressed and pack a bag. You’re going home with me. I’ll see how your mom is doing. Okay?”
She nodded, sniffled and retreated.
Nate returned to the living room just as the EMTs shifted Sonja onto the gurney.
“How is she?” he asked.
The woman glanced at him. “Still unconscious. Given the, er, odor, we took the liberty of checking the trash beneath the kitchen sink. It’s half-full with hard-liquor bottles. She dropped a glass—” she nodded toward a side table “—that seems to have held gin.”
He’d smelled it the minute he walked through the door. Sonja had loved martinis. Apparently, she’d quit bothering to add vermouth or an olive.
“As you can see, she vomited. It was lucky she was lying on her side. She could have choked on it.”
The man said, “Her breathing is irregular and slow, and she’s hypothermic. We need to take her in. She’ll likely be kept under observation overnight.” Expression sympathetic, he added, “You may want to tell your daughter she might have saved her mother’s life by calling you.”
“Thanks.” Nate looked at his unconscious ex-wife and shook his head. “I can’t believe this.”
Having a drinking problem was one thing, but boozing herself into a stupor when she was all Molly had? Had it ever occurred to her that she was scaring the shit out of her young daughter?
After watching the pair wheel Sonja out, Nate took the time to clean up the puke. Then he turned out lights, scooped Molly up and pulled her small suitcase with his free hand. He was past ready to take her home.
* * *
ANNA SAT AT the kitchen table, feeling numb. It was done. The house had finally sold—but for a price that would have left her still owing money on it if Alan hadn’t told her, firmly, that he had reduced his commission by one percent. According to his calculations, that would allow her to pay off the mortgage in full.
She had wanted to argue, to tell him he didn’t need to do that, but instead had said shakily, “Thank you. You’ve worked so hard to sell my house, it’s not fair.”
“I’m glad to do it,” he’d said kindly, before gathering up his papers and departing.
Since the couple had been preapproved for a loan, Alan didn’t foresee any problems.
Alone now, Anna couldn’t even feel relief. Now she had to face all her other problems.
This past week, she had spent hours on the internet, applying for positions as a paraeducator, or teacher’s aide, at school districts in eastern Washington, Oregon and Idaho. Unfortunately, so far they all had a full roster, as she’d feared. A month into the school year had to be the worst time to apply. She’d had several responses, however, expressing interest in using her part-time or as a fill-in, and possibly as a substitute teacher, too.
She’d be rolling the dice when she chose where to go. The work could be steady—or not. There’d be no benefits. But she’d concluded this was her best route back to teaching. It would give her experience and references; with luck, she’d be liked enough to be hired as a teacher next fall in the same district. Somehow, she’d pick up other part-time work to put food on the table.
Possibilities so far included Moses Lake in eastern Washington, La Grande in eastern Oregon or Idaho Falls, Idaho. Idaho Falls sounded touristy enough to push rents up too high for her.
She didn’t have to decide today. Soon, though. And maybe she’d get more responses this week. This was only Monday. If she was lucky, one of those many school districts she had contacted would have a full-time aide quit unexpectedly.
She really ought to go over to Mrs. Schaub’s and fetch Jenna. Josh, of course, was in school. More than Jenna, he didn’t want to move, and she couldn’t blame him. If she could stay... But it was impossible. Rent anywhere on the Eastside would be far beyond her means, even if she found a similar patchwork of jobs here. She had faith he’d adjust. Josh had always been good at making friends.
Her phone rang, and she recognized the number immediately. The man just would not give up.
This time, she answered. “Mr. Kendrick, I’ve asked you to leave me alone.”
“Please. Will you listen to me?”
Surprised at what might have been a note of desperation in his voice, she sighed. “Yes, if it doesn’t take long. I need to get back to packing.”
Well, start packing, but he didn’t have to know that.
“You sold your house?”
“At last.” Her effort to sound pleased fell flat to her ears.
“The timing might be good.” Was he talking to himself?
“Mr. Kendrick?”
“I’m sorry. I, ah, have something of a problem.” He hesitated. “I’ll ask you not to repeat what I’m going to tell you.”
Was this a subterfuge on his part to get his way? She was curious enough, though, to say, “I promise.” Not like she’d be here to gossip even if she wanted to.
“My ex-wife has become an alcoholic,” he said bluntly. “I’ve been worried, but she seemed to drink primarily in the evening and didn’t go out. Saturday night, though, Molly called me because she couldn’t wake her mother up.”
Anna exclaimed, “Oh, poor Molly!”
“She was petrified. Turned out, Sonja was in a drunken stupor. I had to call medics, and she spent the night in the hospital. I insisted she enter a treatment program to have any hope of maintaining custody of Molly.”
“So Molly is with you?”
“That’s right. It’s been a challenge. I left late for work this morning, came home in time to meet her school bus. I should enroll her in that after-school program, but she begged me not to. She’s...fragile right now.”
“Couldn’t you...well, take some vacation?”
“A monthlong one?” He sounded incredulous. “No.”
“You could—” The words hire someone died. Duh. Why else had he called her? At last, he had a job to offer that fit her qualifications.
“I have an attached apartment meant for a housekeeper that has never been used,” he continued. “Would you consider moving in, even if only temporarily, to take care of Molly when I can’t be here?”
Of course, she should say, I’m sorry. No. Whether Sonja’s attempt to blame him for Kyle’s death was unfair or not—and Anna didn’t know enough to judge—she should keep her distance from this man.
But another thought crept in. With a month’s grace, Josh could finish the soccer season with his team. Have a little longer at school with his friends and a teacher Anna especially liked. Only...wouldn’t it be better for all of them to get the move over with, not put it off?
A temporary job like this would give her some breathing room.
“I don’t know,” she heard herself say. “Where do you live?”
“Just south of Meydenbauer Bay.”
Waterfront? She didn’t ask.
“I’ll pay you on top of providing housing,” he added.
“Don’t be ridiculous. The savings on not having to pay rent would be huge.” Was she seriously discussing this? “And given that you only need part-time help—”
“The apartment isn’t ideal,” he said with a hint of apology. “There’s only one bedroom, so it’ll be a squeeze for three of you.”
It will. Apparently, he had no doubt about her answer.
She’d have time to make the right decision about what they’d do next. And she felt for Molly, undergoing a second trauma on top of the first. Even before this happened, living with an alcoholic parent must have been scary.
Had kids talked after the disaster about how Mr. Kendrick was supposed to have been there, that if he had been, Josh’s dad wouldn’t have had to go in the water to save Molly? If so, Josh hadn’t said so.
She was still angry at Nate Kendrick. Even so... Anna sighed, ashamed to be succumbing so easily, but also aware of relief pouring through her veins. “You don’t even know me.”
“Molly likes you. She says you used to help out in her classroom.”
“I did, but is that enough of a reference?”
“The PI’s report was thorough.”
At the reminder, she came close to hanging up on the man. It was for Molly’s sake she didn’t—or so she told herself. “If I do this, will you be satisfied?” she asked. “Will you stop trying to give me money?”
“No,” he said without hesitation. “I owe you too much. This isn’t about what happened. Molly needs you. I need you.” The growl in his voice told her that he didn’t like needing her. Or anyone?
He could hire someone else, of course, but trusting a stranger with your child wasn’t easy. He and she...weren’t quite strangers, even though she’d only met him face-to-face the once, if she didn’t count his appearance in the hospital elevator.
“Don’t you have family who can help?”
“My parents would come if I asked, but my father has health problems. I don’t want to lean on them right now.”
When she didn’t answer immediately, he apparently read her hesitation as resistance. “Do you and the kids still have health insurance?” he asked.
Low blow. She bit her lip. “No.” She hadn’t been able to afford to extend their coverage, which meant living in terror that one of the kids might get hurt or sick.
“My company provides insurance to employees. I’ll add the three of you on it while you’re working for me.”
He knew just how to undermine her stubbornness. It caved in. She might regret this, but she made the decision. “Okay. I’ll do it, with the understanding that it’s temporary.”
“Thank you,” he said huskily. He cleared his throat. “Can you come soon?”
“Is the apartment furnished?”
“No. I’ll pay to have your furniture moved here. We can put the rest into storage.”
A new bill, but she’d call all the nearby school districts right away in hopes one or several of them could use her as a substitute teacher and/or aide. And, thank goodness, living so close by, she could continue to take Jenna to Mrs. Schaub’s.
Thinking it through, she said, “I could come tomorrow with what we’ll need right away, as long as you don’t mind renting a truck twice. I’d have to come back here daytimes to pack everything that will go into storage.”
“Movers can do that for you.”
Oh, so tempting, but she needed to weed their possessions. “No, I’d rather do it.”
“Why don’t Molly and I pick you up this evening?” he suggested. “We could all go out for pizza, then we can show you the apartment so you have a better idea what you’ll need.”
Go out for pizza with a man she wanted to hate? It wasn’t too late to change her mind. Only...she remembered her first sight of a sopping wet redheaded girl sobbing her heart out.
She could be polite for the one evening. They wouldn’t have to see much of each other after this. She’d hand off childcare duties and retreat to the apartment. She and Molly’s father could leave each other notes, or he could call to let her know his schedule.
“Yes. Okay,” she said, even as she wondered why she felt as if she’d made a decision more momentous than it seemed.
CHAPTER FIVE (#u26416ed5-13a2-5021-9a99-72c96c0505e0)
SHARING A BOOTH at the pizza parlor with Anna Grainger and her two kids felt surreal. She remained wary, at the very least, where he was concerned. Her answering the phone at all had felt like a miracle.
There was definitely a strain. He was too damned aware of what a beautiful woman she was. She didn’t want to meet his eyes, and did her best to keep the kids chattering to forestall any need to speak to him. On the other hand...she’d already accomplished another miracle. Molly was talking, too.
Although it might have been the four-year-old who’d engaged Molly. The girl was bold and determined nobody would hold out on her. When Molly hadn’t responded to her initial conversational forays, Jenna would say, “Huh, Molly? That’d be fun, wouldn’t it? Even Josh says it would. Right, Josh? Right, Molly?”
In fact, her high, sweet voice filled any silence, which was fine by Nate. Josh and Molly started shy with each other, but once Jenna broke the ice, they, too, argued about TV shows and movies and whether this pizza was as good as the pizza at Pagliacci. The more gourmet places were not on her kids’ radar any more than they were on Molly’s. She liked plain cheese. As it turned out, Jenna concurred. The three kids shared one pie, with pepperoni on half of it for Josh. Nate and Anna agreed on a slightly more sophisticated choice, with mozzarella, Asiago, fresh chopped basil, garlic and sliced tomatoes. They ate salads, too. She didn’t bother asking her kids if they wanted one. When he did ask Molly, she said, “No, thank you, Daddy,” in that irritatingly polite way she had of keeping him at a distance.
Josh grumbled that frozen pizzas were never this good. Then he said, “We haven’t been here for a long time. Mom wouldn’t—”
She cut in, her tone light. “Mom abused you with home-cooked meals. Is that what you’re saying?”
“No, but—”
Somehow she diverted him, but Nate noticed her cheeks had warmed.
He had to grit his teeth to keep himself from saying something. He didn’t like the reminder that she’d turned down help from him even as she had to worry about every penny. It also hadn’t escaped his notice that she had lost weight.
“Pizza’s good,” he commented, waiting until she reluctantly glanced at him.
“Yes, it is. Thank you for suggesting this.”
“Tell me about the house sale,” he said, wanting to hold on to her attention now that he had it. “Do you have any idea when you can close?”
Josh pantomimed slamming something onto the table, and Molly and Jenna giggled. Hearing that giggle, Nate felt lighter. The pizza didn’t seem to be aggravating his stomach problems, either.
“No. The buyers need financing, so even though they were preapproved, we have to wait while the loan request goes through. Alan—my agent—thought about a month.”
“Are you ending up in the hole?”
She leveled a stare at him. “I can’t believe you asked that.”
“I’m a pushy guy.” She didn’t appear to see persistence as the virtue he did.
Her eyes narrowed. “What’s so funny about that?”
“A private thought.”
“You mean, you do understand the concept of privacy?”
He laughed. “Yeah, I do. I just figure it never hurts to ask.”
“It doesn’t hurt you,” Anna said very quietly.
Sobering, he nodded. “You’re right. I’m sorry.”
Seeing the deliberate way she turned a shoulder to him and joined the kids’ conversation again, he realized he’d stepped in it. Damn it, why had he thought she’d answer a question like that? He rarely surrendered to impulse.
He tuned in to hear Anna asking Molly about her teacher. Josh didn’t seem to be reacting negatively to seeing Molly again, so enrolling her in her old school here in Bellevue shouldn’t be a problem.
Or, hey, Josh and Molly might be as good at hiding what they were really thinking as the two adults were.
They boxed up what pizza was left and took it with them, returning to their two cars. Hers looked even shabbier beside his Lexus.
“Stick close,” he reminded Anna, after being sure Molly was belted in properly.
She was still strapping her own wriggling daughter into the back seat. “With the address, I imagine I could find it.”
He dragged his gaze from her shapely rear end. “It’s tricky knowing which driveway is ours.”
“Fine.”
Pulling out of the parking lot, Nate kept an eye on the rearview mirror. It took him a few blocks to notice that Molly hadn’t said a word.
“You like Josh and Jenna?” he asked.
Anna’s old car was hanging close behind.
“Yes, only—” Molly screwed up her face. “It’s my fault their daddy is gone, so why aren’t they mad?”
Hating the agony he heard in her voice, Nate said, “Maybe they know it’s not your fault. We talked about this.”
“Yes, but...” She bent her head, hiding her expression.
He waited, to no avail. “Anna doesn’t blame you, either, or she wouldn’t have agreed to come live with us until your mom is better and ready to take you back.”
No comment. He hadn’t a clue what Molly thought about her mother’s absence. Living with an alcoholic parent couldn’t be easy at any age. Was she relieved? Desperate for Mommy to take her home? Or justifiably afraid Mommy wouldn’t be better, after all?
Nate made the turn onto Shoreland Drive, satisfied to see Anna still right behind. The private lane wasn’t well marked. At the end, it split into three driveways, his being the right-hand one. The view of the lake opened, and he tapped the remote control to access the garage, driving straight in. Anna parked where she’d have room to make a tight U-turn when it came time to leave.
He got out, circling to help Molly if she needed it, which she didn’t. Anna’s kids huddled close to their mother as they stared at his house, eyes wide.
“Somehow I knew you’d have lakefront,” Anna said drily, her hands resting on her children’s shoulders in reassurance.
Feeling defensive, Nate said, “This isn’t as luxurious as some of the waterfront homes in Medina or Hunts Point.”
“You mean, your house isn’t forty thousand square feet, like Bill Gates’s supposedly is?”
“No, it definitely isn’t.” He tried for a little humor. “I don’t want to get lost in the middle of the night trying to find the bathroom.”
Nobody laughed. The funny part, Nate thought, was that, once upon a time, Sonja had wanted to move. Plenty of celebrities called Yarrow Point or Hunts Point home. She liked the idea of living next to a star pitcher for the Mariners or a big shot in the software world. “You could afford it,” she used to complain. Yes, he could, but he liked where he lived, or had until he lost his family. It was just as well he hadn’t let her wear him down, or he’d be rattling around in an even bigger house now.
“Ah...come on in. We’ll give you the grand tour.”
Her kids moved in step with her when they followed. His Mediterranean style house clearly intimidated them, even though he didn’t consider it ostentatious. The cream-colored stucco exterior was accented by a red-tile roof. Broad, double doors in a dark, carved wood gave an aged feel. Inside, light poured through the vast windows looking out on Lake Washington. The decor was simple—hardwood floors, scattered rugs, leather and brocade upholstered furniture, wood furniture mostly cherry in a modified mission style with clean lines. He’d bought some art he liked for the walls, since Sonja had taken what she considered hers. He’d erased most of the fussier accents that had her stamp, too.
“This is...really nice,” Anna said in a stifled voice.
“Thank you.” He showed her the family room, which was nearest to the front door but having French doors that could be closed to contain noise, then led her to the kitchen, open to the living and dining areas. He didn’t use the room designed to be a home office on this level, preferring one upstairs that had a lake view. There were empty bedrooms upstairs, too. He kept those doors closed to keep the house from feeling any lonelier than it already did.
The tour continued upstairs to Molly’s bedroom. Anna’s discomfiture hadn’t abated, and neither had her kids’. Even Jenna had been struck silent, which he had the impression wasn’t a natural state for her.
Nate’s bedroom was just beyond Molly’s, the door standing open. He saw Anna sneak a peek, and was glad she couldn’t see much from this angle. He surely didn’t want to picture her in his bedroom. Her presence in the house unsettled him enough already, in part because he hadn’t managed to squelch images of her not only in his room, but also in his bed. However, most of his discomfiture was the result of him trying to see his home through her eyes. His guilt revved into a higher gear.
Did she feel like the beggar maid, brought to the palace by King Cophetua? Nice thought. If he’d made a different choice, Anna would still have a husband and her own house.
Assuming, of course, he had made a difference in the day’s outcome instead of paying more attention to texts and emails coming in on his phone than he did to his daughter.
He and Sonja hadn’t split because of his dedication to his job—but it had played a part. Remembering what she’d said about wanting a life still stung, even though he knew damn well she wouldn’t have been happy if he’d decided he could cut back on work and brought home a lower income.
Jenna broke the silence. “I like your bedroom.” Still in the hall, peering into Molly’s room, she sounded wistful. “Can I play with your Barbie house?”
Nate wasn’t sure Molly ever did.
His daughter hesitated. “It’s okay if you’re careful with my stuff.”
“There’s no reason Jenna would be playing in here when she isn’t with you,” Anna said firmly. “Your dad said we’d have our own apartment.”
Molly’s eyes darted to Anna. “But we can play together when I get home from school, can’t we?”
Anna smiled. “Sure.”
“Speaking of the apartment...” he said, sounding like an overenthusiastic tour guide.
Jenna gave a final, lingering look into a pink-and-purple bedroom that was stocked with entirely too many toys. Many Molly had left behind when she moved out with Sonja. He doubted she’d ever touched a lot of the dolls and stuffed animals.
Had he satisfied himself with the notion that if he bought her everything a little girl could want, she wouldn’t notice that Daddy was hardly ever around?
Only one of many uncomfortable realizations he’d been hit with since Molly had come so close to dying.
He wished now he didn’t have to show the Graingers where they’d be staying. The contrast was too stark.
* * *
THE APARTMENT WASN’T BIG, but Anna had sighed in relief when she saw it. It felt...snug. Like a cocoon, a refuge.
Once home, she worked for hours that evening after tucking in Josh and Jenna. She moved room to room, deciding what they’d need and hastily packing it. She’d do the kids’ bedrooms tomorrow morning after getting Josh off to school. Tonight she whizzed through the kitchen first, boxing up the necessities except for what they’d use for breakfast. She tagged bright pink sticky notes onto the furniture she thought would fit into the apartment over the three-car garage on Nate’s estate. That’s all she could think to call a home that should have been in a magazine.
The apartment could be accessed from the outside, but also had a staircase that opened in the main house by the kitchen. Servants stairs, only not as steep and narrow as she knew they’d been in eighteenth-and nineteenth-century homes. Same principle, though.
Currently working in the dining room, she tossed two sets of place mats into a box, but left everything else in the buffet to go to storage. Or get rid of. When had she last used the set of eight crystal goblets that had been a wedding gift?
Her bedroom didn’t take long, either. Everything that had been on the closet shelf was already packed in totes piled in the garage. She retrieved suitcases from the garage and filled the big one with her clothes and shoes. The medium-sized suitcase should handle a basic wardrobe for Josh—his sports stuff could go in the duffel—and Jenna had her own small pink rolling suitcase.
Both of them would want some of their toys, games and books, but they wouldn’t need all. Especially books—they’d visit the library more often.
In front of her dresser, she sank to her butt in sudden exhaustion and leaned against her bed. This was crazy. Why had she agreed to do it?
She looked around her bedroom, both familiar and, weirdly, not. Kyle’s half of the closet was already empty, as was his dresser. During the sleepless night after her discovery that he’d cashed out the life-insurance policy, she’d grabbed garbage bags and gone through all his stuff. She’d dropped most of it at a thrift store the very next day. Part of her was grateful for the anger that had carried her through such a horrible task. She’d packed a single box of his things that she or one of the kids might someday want, including a few shirts that had evoked him so vividly she had pressed the soft fabric to her face and cried.
Her mood was odd tonight, maybe because she was so tired Anna wondered if Kyle would even know her now. She didn’t belong in this bedroom anymore. The bed was going into storage; she’d decide later whether she wanted to replace it. Her dresser could go in the bedroom closet in the apartment. In fact, she’d take over the closet, since the kids didn’t need to hang up any of their clothes. They’d share one dresser—Josh’s, since it was taller—and the coat closet was the perfect place for his sports equipment. She hoped Molly didn’t mind hanging around the soccer field during his practices and games.
Still feeling strange, Anna told herself it was too late for second thoughts. Tomorrow night, she’d sleep on her sofa in that small, bare apartment. She’d work for a man who made her uncomfortable in a thousand ways, starting with his too-perceptive gray eyes and obvious wealth.
No, she reminded herself, she wouldn’t see much of him, anyway. And why get worked up about what was really only going to be an interlude?
* * *
NATE’S CONCENTRATION WASN’T the best Tuesday.
He’d started the day by calling the elementary school in Seattle where Molly had spent only a few weeks to let them know he was withdrawing her. Then he’d driven her to the school she’d attended for kindergarten and first grade, explained the situation and enrolled her. Trying to put her at ease, the principal decided to fit her into Josh’s class. Nate didn’t comment, but wasn’t so sure that would help. Surrounded by his crowd of buddies, Josh might not be willing to speak to a mere girl. Nate reminded himself that she’d probably know some of the other kids in the class.
He and the principal walked Molly to her new second-grade classroom. Absolute silence fell as they entered. Every single student stared as the principal explained quietly to the teacher, a Mrs. Tate, that she had an addition to her class. Molly seemed to become smaller and smaller, looking at her feet as she gripped his hand so tightly he suspected she was cutting off his circulation.
Fortunately, Mrs. Tate was young and immediately friendly, beaming at Molly as she welcomed her and said, “Class, we have a new student. Some of you will remember Molly Kendrick from last year.” Then she looked around her room. “Let’s see. Where shall we put you?”
A girl’s voice rang out. “Molly can sit with us! Put her here.”
Molly sucked in a breath and raised her head. “Arianna?”
He bent to murmur, “Is she a friend?”
“She was one of my bestest friends last year.” Molly dropped his hand, and Mrs. Tate escorted her to a square of four desks put together. One was empty, at least for today.
Grateful to see he was forgotten, Nate had returned to the office to revise the short list of people authorized to pick up his daughter. The list had remained in her file from last year. With Anna’s name added, he’d finally headed for work, arriving only two hours later than usual.
Then, instead of accomplishing anything meaningful, Nate worried about whether yanking Molly out of class and dropping her into a new one several weeks into the year was the right thing to do. He had no trouble imagining what Sonja would have to say about it.
How much change was too much for his little girl? Given that she’d probably have to switch back to the other school four weeks from now, she might have been better off if he’d continued to drive her to the school in Seattle and pick her up. Sonja would accuse him of selfishness and might even be right—but he’d be restricted to six-hour workdays instead of his usual ten or more. He couldn’t ask Anna to do all that driving, especially not in her old car. He could just imagine her response if he offered to buy her a new one. If he had to get Molly to school and pick her up when it let out, he could do some work from home while Anna kept an eye on Molly, but he couldn’t meet with anyone or extend his day for drinks or working dinners. It just wasn’t feasible.
Too late, anyway. Nate consoled himself that Molly hadn’t seemed to like her previous teacher very much. Maybe when she had to return to that school, they’d agree to shift her to another class. Or maybe that would be one too many changes.
He groaned and scrubbed his scalp, glad he was currently alone.
He also called Anna several times, once to be sure the moving truck had shown up, and then again to confirm she was at the house before the end of the school day. Had she remembered to contact the school to let them know which bus Josh was supposed to ride?
“Yes,” she said, almost patiently, “I went by in person so they know our current address. I also picked up some groceries. I’ll put dinner on for you and Molly. If she’s hungry before you get home, she can eat with us and you can reheat your meal.”
Nate opened his mouth to tell her she didn’t have to cook for him—and shut it again. Damn, it would be good to walk in the door to a home-cooked meal. To know Molly would be taken care of if he ran late here at the office, although that was unlikely to happen today. He already itched to get home. So he said only, “Thank you. Josh didn’t have practice today?”
“No, they’re Mondays, Wednesdays and Fridays. Games Saturday.”
“That’s quite a schedule.”
“He loves it.” Her voice became quieter. “He was really mad at me when we thought we’d have to move before the end of the season.”
“When’s that?” Nate asked.
“November. Depending on the weather, those last games are miserable.”
They were conversing. Even though a beep told him he had a call coming in, he didn’t want to end this one.
“Rain and snow, huh?”
“Frozen feet and muddy kid,” she agreed. “Josh plays goalie a lot, and once the weather turns, there’s always a mud hole right in front of the goal.”
Nate grinned. “I played youth football when I wasn’t much older than Josh. Same season. I loved mud.”
She sighed. “So does he. I’ve learned to keep a ratty old towel in the car for him to sit on.”
Nate laughed, but after the conversation ended, he didn’t immediately check missed calls. Instead, he pondered why Molly hadn’t played any sports. Swim lessons in the summer, essential when she’d lived on the lake, and that was it. Did any of her friends play soccer? He wondered if she’d like to try it next year. To his recollection, she’d never participated in any after-school youth activities. And that got him to wondering whether Sonja had had her first glass of white wine a lot earlier in the day than he’d realized, and had developed a problem with booze a lot longer ago than he’d realized, too. With the hours he worked, she could have hidden too much from him.
He called the treatment center only to be politely rebuffed. The first days were always difficult. Patient information was kept confidential. The woman he spoke to wasn’t moved by his explanation that Sonja’s young daughter was scared for her.
Nate returned a few calls before thinking, To hell with it. This day was past resuscitation. He was ready to call it, start anew tomorrow.
CHAPTER SIX (#u26416ed5-13a2-5021-9a99-72c96c0505e0)
HAVING TURNED OFF the lights, he was letting himself out of his office when he came face-to-face with his partner, John Li. John had obviously been about to knock on his door. The two men had been friends since their freshmen year in college, when they’d been paired as roommates.
John had a file in his hand. Looking astonished, he said, “You’re leaving?”
With anyone else, Nate would have claimed to be meeting an investor for predinner drinks. Instead, he said, “Yeah. I told you I found a woman to be there when Molly gets home, and she did start today. But I’d like to make sure the arrangement is working. And, frankly, I’ve had so many distractions, I’m useless, anyway.”
“I understand,” his partner said. He probably did; he was married and had two kids. His wife was an orthopedic surgeon, and somehow they juggled responsibilities with astonishing success. That didn’t mean it was easy or that there weren’t days when their arrangements for the kids failed. “This—” he lifted the folder “—can wait until morning.”
Usually Nate wouldn’t have been able to walk away without knowing what this was, without turning and going back into his office. It was part of the drive that had taken K & L Ventures to the top of the pyramid. Right now, he said, “Thanks,” and continued on his way.
He did remember during the drive home why he didn’t usually cut and run at five o’clock. Traffic crawled. He sometimes used the express lanes, which at this time of day required drivers to pay a toll, but he couldn’t see that it helped all that much. Funny, though, that he looked forward to getting home, something he couldn’t recall feeling in a very long time.
It would be good to smell dinner cooking when he walked in the door, he told himself. And he wanted to hear how Molly’s day had gone. But Nate didn’t make a practice of lying to himself. And the truth was he liked knowing his house wasn’t empty, that somebody might anticipate his arrival.
He didn’t kid himself that Anna would be glad to see him beyond the fact that, with him home, she could retreat to the apartment. Still, if he was lucky they might have another real conversation, the kind not barbed with hostility.
Though he shouldn’t count on that.
* * *
ANNA WASN’T USED to having to take more than two or three steps from refrigerator to sink or anywhere else in her kitchen. This one was vast and so elegant and well equipped that a professional chef would be delighted. The pantry was as large as the entire kitchen in the house she’d just sold. Anna didn’t even know how to use all of the small appliances she found, and wasn’t 100 percent sure what some of them did.
Fortunately, the kids were happily occupied playing Xbox games. Josh had wanted either a Nintendo or Xbox gaming system for a long time and always came home hyper after having a chance to play with one at a friend’s house. He’d been gleeful when he spotted it in the family room.
Anna had heard snatches of some initial squabbling. Molly liked something called “Just Dance Kids.” Jenna had wanted that one, too. Josh said no way, creating a tempest. Left to themselves, they’d settled on “Lego Marvel Super Hero.” Anna had made herself unpopular by checking the rating. When she explored the pile of games, she didn’t see one that wasn’t rated Everyone, which allowed her to relax and return to the kitchen. Apparently, Nate didn’t have a secret addiction to “Call of Duty” or “Assassin’s Creed.”
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Janice Kay Johnson
Forgiveness is a choice – love isn’tNate Hendrick’s and Anna Grainger’s lives were changed – and entwined – forever, in one terrifying instant. That’s all it took for Anna’s husband to die saving the life of Nate’s daughter. Battling heartache and guilt, Nate offers Anna the only consolation he can: a place for her family to stay while she figures things out.Neither expects the arrangement to be anything more than a convenience, but as their families come together, old wounds begin to heal and hearts mend. Nate knows they have a chance to salvage something beautiful from tragedy–if Anna can ever truly forgive him.
Forgiveness is a choice—love isn’t
Nate Hendrick’s and Anna Grainger’s lives were changed—and entwined—forever, in one terrifying instant. That’s all it took for Anna’s husband to die saving the life of Nate’s daughter. Battling heartache and guilt, Nate offers Anna the only consolation he can: a place for her family to stay while she figures things out.
Neither expects the arrangement to be anything more than a convenience, but as their families come together, old wounds begin to heal and hearts mend. Nate knows they have a chance to salvage something beautiful from tragedy—if Anna can ever truly forgive him.
An author of more than ninety books for children and adults (more than seventy-five for Harlequin), JANICE KAY JOHNSON writes about love and family—about the way generations connect and the power our earliest experiences have on us throughout life. A USA TODAY bestselling author and an eight-time finalist for a Romance Writers of America RITA® Award, she won a RITA® Award in 2008 for her Harlequin Superromance novel Snowbound. A former librarian, Janice raised two daughters in a small town north of Seattle, Washington.
Also By Janice Kay Johnson (#u26416ed5-13a2-5021-9a99-72c96c0505e0)
Back Against the Wall
The Hero’s Redemption
Her Amish Protectors
Plain Refuge
A Mother’s Claim
Because of a Girl
The Baby Agenda
Bone Deep
Finding Her Dad
All That Remains
Making Her Way Home
No Matter What
A Hometown Boy
Anything for Her
Where It May Lead
From This Day On
One Frosty Night
More Than Neighbors
To Love a Cop
Brothers, Strangers
The Baby He Wanted
The Closer He Gets
Two Daughters
Yesterday’s Gone
In Hope’s Shadow
The Mysteries of Angel Butte
Bringing Maddie Home
Everywhere She Goes
All a Man Is
Cop by Her Side
This Good Man
Discover more at millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
In a Heartbeat
Janice Kay Johnson
www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
ISBN: 978-1-474-08288-4
IN A HEARTBEAT
© 2018 Jeannie Steinman
Published in Great Britain 2018
by Mills & Boon, an imprint of HarperCollinsPublishers 1 London Bridge Street, London, SE1 9GF
All rights reserved including the right of reproduction in whole or in part in any form. This edition is published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, locations and incidents are purely fictional and bear no relationship to any real life individuals, living or dead, or to any actual places, business establishments, locations, events or incidents. Any resemblance is entirely coincidental.
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www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
“We didn’t have an Xbox, so Josh thinks he’s gone to heaven,” she said.
Nate grimaced. “Molly hasn’t touched it since Sonja and I split up. If I were a good father, I’d have played with her, but do you know what her favorite one is?”
Anna had to laugh. “Let’s see. Would it be Just Dance Kids?”
“Dear God, yes. I felt like an idiot when I danced in high school.”
She laughed again, even though it was impossible to imagine this man graceless. She was immediately ashamed of herself. Kyle had only died three months ago, and Nate Kendrick had played a role in the tragedy. She’d agreed to work for him because she was desperate, and for Molly’s sake. Becoming friends and confidantes wasn’t happening. Given his tall, lean body, the saunter that spoke of complete confidence and features that might be too rough to be called handsome, he had to turn women’s heads wherever he went.
I can’t be one of them, she thought desperately.
Dear Reader (#u26416ed5-13a2-5021-9a99-72c96c0505e0),
I hope I’m not too predictable, but I know I’ve returned to some of the same themes repeatedly in my Harlequin Superromance novels. Always love, but also family, the people who are missing in our lives, and the aftereffects of trauma or loss. Without intending any such theme, I’ve managed to combine all of that in this, my last Superromance.
His daughter, her kids, his troubled ex-wife and the blame game. Is Nate really a man who breaks promises? The heroine wants to blame him for her husband’s death—but is that fair? And what kind of relationship can they possibly have when Nate also turns out to be the support Anna so desperately needs when she finds her husband’s death left her and their two children destitute? Imagine having to let yourself lean on the person you also want to hate—or, from his perspective, to fall in love with a woman whose devastation might be your fault.
Love never comes easily in my books!
Look for me next at Harlequin Intrigue. Different kinds of stories, but I feel sure you’ll still see the forces that have always driven my characters.
Signing out,
Janice
I’ve been lucky to have worked with remarkably smart, strong, caring editors at Harlequin Superromance. To Victoria, Jane, Laura and Wanda: a huge thank-you. I wouldn’t be the writer I am without you.
Contents
Cover (#uc6c7f568-49ea-50c0-9d9f-8947291003db)
Back Cover Text (#u68d91339-6c7c-58c4-aed6-3b799555ea82)
About the Author (#u6001a782-716b-5e38-9731-eb70e0af2b2f)
Booklist (#u9c3e6017-a280-54d8-babc-260900a53d4e)
Title Page (#uf3ffedb1-f7e3-5e0e-bed6-93f2d64daa3b)
Copyright (#u8ea97efb-0ca3-5f9a-82db-b9430f1bf1d0)
Introduction (#u819b8d0c-6909-5c36-9d8f-b8a57c708325)
Dear Reader (#u3787ee01-d0b9-5e4f-bf95-aaa90ef61ea6)
Dedication (#u3bf0627a-65d4-5385-a8da-9b96da7f3e35)
CHAPTER ONE (#u6abe2d61-6f51-53a7-a786-cbb93dea7933)
CHAPTER TWO (#u5004b65f-edf3-5f0b-a18d-b91d6dcd135c)
CHAPTER THREE (#u0711ba5d-1b41-5588-8894-fd7f6af49cf8)
CHAPTER FOUR (#ub36cb199-693e-5dda-b9e9-4954a1a60589)
CHAPTER FIVE (#uafb08abc-8359-5265-9b8c-47eb2c98b5a6)
CHAPTER SIX (#uecb5cf35-0e03-5997-a35d-d82692bd0052)
CHAPTER SEVEN (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER EIGHT (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER NINE (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER TEN (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER ELEVEN (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER TWELVE (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER THIRTEEN (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER FOURTEEN (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER FIFTEEN (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER SIXTEEN (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER NINETEEN (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER TWENTY (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR (#litres_trial_promo)
Extract (#litres_trial_promo)
About the Publisher (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER ONE (#u26416ed5-13a2-5021-9a99-72c96c0505e0)
TRAFFIC WAS A BITCH, as always. Nate Kendrick ended one call when he was halfway across the I-90 bridge over Lake Washington and resigned himself to making the one he’d been putting off. Sonja would be pissed.
Nothing new about that.
She answered immediately, her tone suspicious. The minute she heard what he had to say, she screeched, “You always do this! What’s your excuse this time?”
“I’m putting together a deal. It was supposed to be a go today, but one of the major investors got cold feet overnight. I have to find a replacement.”
The silence unnerved him, since it was unlike her. Still quietly, she said, “Do you know how many thousand times I’ve heard that?”
“You knew what I did when you married me.” Venture capitalism was high-risk, high-adrenaline and sometimes high-flying, like when a company in his portfolio went public in a big way or sold to an industry leader for a billion or more. You did not succeed in the business by taking a working day off to accompany a mob of six-and seven-year-olds to the beach. Or was it a river park? Nate couldn’t remember.
“Some of us want an actual life.” She sounded sad. Playing him. “I, for one, want my daughter to love me enough to come home for Christmas when she’s an adult.”
“Goddamn it, Sonja,” he growled.
“We’ll be fine without you.”
Call ended.
Of course they would be. He loved his daughter, even as he knew she’d been slipping away from him since the divorce. But being one of two partners in a venture-capital firm meant demands that were never-ending. Who’d put Molly through college, if not him? Certainly not Sonja, who lived on her settlement from him. The settlement she wouldn’t get if he crashed and burned.
Traffic opened up enough for him to merge onto I-5 for the short distance into downtown Seattle. By then he’d already taken the next call, obliging him to accept a no answer with outward amiability. But he and this guy would do business together again, so he ignored another incoming call to chat about the investor’s son, excited about starting at Stanford this fall. Molly was ten years away from making any college decisions, thank God. Long practice let him think furiously as he talked.
What was his next best possibility? Stu Gribbin? He tended to like start-ups better than on-the-ground manufacturing, but it was worth a try.
Exiting from the freeway onto crowded streets hemmed in by tall buildings, Nate decided to wait to make the next call until he reached his office. He’d long since jettisoned his daughter’s summer day camp field trip from his mind.
* * *
HONESTLY, THIS WASN’T the most exciting outing the camp director could have planned, but Melissa might have chosen the park without actually having visited it.
Anna Grainger wasn’t complaining. Lounging on the picnic table bench with Kyle while the nearly forty kids ran off an excess of energy on the extensive mowed field was fine by her. From long habit, she kept an eye on her own two children—seven-year-old Josh and four-year-old Jenna—as well as the three additional kids she’d been assigned to supervise. All were buddies of Josh’s, participating along with him in a crazy soccer game that didn’t have any boundaries or rules she could see. Jenna had gravitated toward three or four other younger children also along for the field trip because their parents had volunteered to chaperone. Jenna didn’t have a shy bone in her body.
Anna reached for her water bottle and took a drink—tepid but wet. The coolers still held unopened cans of soda and bottles of water on ice that couldn’t have entirely melted, but she felt too lazy to get up.
“Couldn’t they just have taken the kids to a local school?” her husband asked idly, not at all put out. With his hands clasped behind his head and his legs outstretched, he didn’t look any more ambitious than she felt.
“You’d think so,” she agreed. “Except Melissa did promise we’d go down to the riverbank after lunch. There’s supposed to be a trail alongside.”
“It’s after lunch,” he pointed out.
“Mmm-hmm.” Wincing as Josh and another boy collided and crashed to the ground, she kept her eye on them until they jumped up, laughing and running back into the game.
“Some of the kids are heading that way,” Kyle observed. “Is anyone paying attention?”
Anna straightened, seeing that he was right. And, no, Melissa was refereeing a dispute between several quarrelsome boys, and Kimberly, one of the young assistants, had organized three-legged races that were winding up with most of the participants collapsed on the grass, giggling. Linda—no, she’d seen her escorting two girls to the bathroom facilities, such as they were.
“Maybe a parent,” she began uncertainly.
“I don’t see that little redhead.” Kyle sat up. “The girl?”
“Molly? Her mother’s here. She’s probably with—”
But she wasn’t. Anna spotted Molly’s mother, Shana—no, Sonja, that was it—right away, sitting at another picnic table texting or playing a game on her phone, her head bent over it. Molly had been in Josh’s class last year, and a couple times Anna had chatted casually with Sonja at special events.
Already on his feet, Kyle said, “I’ll go on ahead, just to be on the safe side. I can catch any eager beavers.” He set off at a trot across the field toward the band of trees along the Snoqualmie River.
For a second, she let her gaze linger on him. Unlike a lot of the other fathers, his body remained lean and athletic. By their mid-to late-thirties, so many men had started dressing to hide some softness around their waist, or had developed frown lines on their faces. Maybe stress did that; Kyle never seemed to feel a smidgen.
Disturbed by how acid that thought had been, Anna automatically checked on her daughter and the four boys. All were well.
A whistle shrilled and, like everyone else, she turned to the camp director. “Everyone, find your group leader! Time to head for the river, but stick with your adult.”
Kids who had been spread across the field, including those who had been drifting toward the river trail, ran back to the adults. Just as the boys and Jenna reached her, Anna heard a woman say, “Anyone see Molly?”
She turned. Sonja was scanning the area.
“A couple of the girls went to the bathroom,” another mother said.
“No, they’re back,” someone else said.
Anna stood. “Kyle thought some kids might have started toward the river, so he went ahead.”
The whistle blew again. “Everybody, freeze!”
The kids became as still as statues, eyes wide. “Parents, is anyone from your group missing? Do you have an extra?”
Kids and parents sorted themselves out. Only one child was missing: Molly Kendrick, who, with that bright head of hair, would have stood out, anyway.
Hyperventilating, Sonja cried, “But I was watching! I just...”
Just let her attention stray. Which almost any parent did on occasion, although this was a poor time and place to take her eyes off not only her daughter, but also the other three children she was supposed to supervise.
Skin tight beside her eyes, the middle-aged director, a wiry, energetic woman, said, “Anna, can you take my group, too, while I make sure your husband has found Molly?”
“You bet.” Smiling, she collected the additional three girls and said, “Okay, let’s start that way, but stay together.”
Melissa jogged ahead, disappearing into the trail through the trees. The rest of them followed in a clump.
Where was Kyle? If he’d located Molly, Anna thought he’d have ushered her back to join the group. On a tinge of fear, Anna glanced over her shoulder at the parking lot. Could Molly have wandered that way? Been lured into a car? The river wasn’t the only frightening possibility.
Seeing that Jenna was lagging, Anna said, “How about a piggyback ride, kiddo?”
“I’m tired.” She still napped and, really, had held out well today, considering.
Anna crouched to let her climb on, after which she walked faster. The older kids had no trouble keeping up. The nine of them reached the trail first, plunging into the cool, shadowy depths beneath the trees.
A minute later, José said, “Did you hear that?”
“No—” But then she did. It sounded like sobbing. She broke into a run, the kids thundering behind her.
She saw the river first, green and higher than it should have been in late June. All the rivers were, after the exceptionally rainy spring and early summer they’d had. Close to the shore, the water was clear enough for her to see rocks beneath the surface, which seemed placid, except...well, those ripples might be deceptive.
The supposed riverbank trail seemed to be partially overgrown with blackberries and other nuisances like salmonberries. But a small beach allowed passage along the water.
The screams reached a crescendo. Jenna bouncing on her back, Anna raced upstream toward Melissa, who crouched with her arms around the sobbing girl. Oh, dear heavens—Molly was soaked, head to toe. She’d gone into the water. Anna’s next thought was overwhelming relief. They’d come so close to a tragedy.
Somebody brushed by her. Sonja. She raced to her daughter and dropped to her knees. “What were you thinking? You know the rules!”
Molly cast herself into her mother’s arms and cried even harder.
Melissa straightened, her gaze going to Anna as she waited for her to approach.
Only then did Anna feel a faint drumbeat of apprehension. Where was Kyle? Shouldn’t he be here, too? Unless, once he was sure Molly was safe, he’d gone looking for other strays...
But she knew. She knew, even before Melissa drew her away from the boys, who stared in fascination at the girl who would be in so much trouble.
“Molly says—” Melissa swallowed. “She says she was being swept away, but Josh’s daddy went in the water after her. That he threw her toward the bank, but when she turned around he was being carried downstream. Then she couldn’t see him at all. He’s probably made it to shore somewhere, but I called 911 to be on the safe side.”
Anna began to tremble. “Kyle can’t swim.”
* * *
NATE IGNORED THE first two calls from his ex. He was having an intense conversation with another of his “angel” investors, who was on the fence about taking this opportunity.
“Send me what your analysts have, and I’ll take a look. But you know I’m leery of anything geared to the young twenties. Hell, I don’t understand most of it. Or them.”
Nate laughed. “Who does? But the money is in that market, whether we like to admit it or not.”
“Yeah, yeah,” John Reynolds grumbled, a note of humor in his voice. “Let me look, and I’ll call you back.”
“Good enough.”
Just as he ended the call, Nate heard the beep of yet another call coming in.
And, yes, it was his ex-wife again. What, she needed to let him know what a good time they were having without him? Irritated, Nate answered nonetheless.
“Sonja?”
“Nate, you know we were visiting a riverside park.” Her voice shook. “Molly sneaked away and waded out into the river. She...she got pulled out into the current. One of the fathers went in after her and managed to push her to a gravel bar. But Nate...he didn’t make it out. This man I don’t know died to save our daughter.”
“Jesus,” he whispered.
“And you couldn’t even answer your phone!”
Sidestepping the accusation, he said, “Molly. Is she okay?”
“She’s hysterical, how do you think she is?” Sonja’s voice was thickened by what had likely been a storm of tears. “We’re on our way to the hospital. She swallowed water and... I don’t know. She wants her daddy,” she said bitterly.
He seriously doubted Molly had expressed any such desire. Since the divorce, she’d grown increasingly shy with him. Each time he took her for a weekend, she acted as if she was being palmed off on a stranger.
He said simply, “Overlake Hospital?”
Background voices told him Sonja wasn’t alone with their daughter, thank God. She came back. “Yes.”
He strode out of the office. “I’m on my way. Wait for me there.” Pausing only to tell his assistant that he had an emergency, he went down the hall to the elevator.
As it dropped to the parking garage, Nate saw that he had missed texts, too. He’d felt the phone vibrating, but that was normal—texts piled up all day. This time, there were three from Sonja. The last one was all caps, multiple exclamation points.
MOLLY ALMOST DIED BECAUSE OF YOU!!! WHY WON’T YOU ANSWER YOUR PHONE????
Shit.
At least it was early enough that traffic should still flow. Tension riding him, he pushed the speed limit, weaving in and out, risking a ticket during this reverse commute to the Eastside of Lake Washington. Molly almost died because of you!!! What about the man who’d rescued his daughter? Had somebody really died, or had that been Sonja hyperbole?
Pain shot up his neck, wrapping around his temples and forehead. Fear, regret, guilt—they all churned in his belly.
He didn’t make it out. This man I don’t know died to save our daughter.
Overlake Hospital overlooked Highway 405 in Bellevue. Even so, after exiting the freeway Nate had to make several turns before he reached the parking garage beneath the hospital. Frustrated at each red light, he tapped his fingers on the steering wheel. In the garage, he took the first available open slot, ran for the elevator and rode up to the ground-floor emergency services.
A dozen people sat scattered throughout the waiting room, but Nate saw Sonja and Molly immediately, merged into one with his daughter on Sonja’s lap, head on her shoulder.
Sinking into the chair beside them, he said huskily, “Kiddo. How are you?”
The distress in Molly’s big eyes felt like a sucker punch to Nate’s belly. Instead of answering, she buried her head against her mother’s neck so she didn’t have to see him. Maybe it hadn’t been a punch. A knife twisting, instead.
Staring straight ahead, Sonja didn’t want to look at him, either, but she said in a near monotone, “The doctor says she swallowed a lot of water, that’s all. Mostly, she was petrified. I’d take her home, except I was too upset to drive. My car is still at the park. I’ll have to take a taxi.”
He ignored that. Of course he wouldn’t let her take a taxi, and she knew it. “What about the man? Was he brought here, too?”
Very slowly her head turned. Her eyes blazed, her lip curled. “So they could bring him back from the dead?”
The air left his lungs in a whoosh. “He really died?”
“You think I just said that?”
“No. I hoped they’d pulled him out.”
“They did. Dead.”
A man had died rescuing Nate’s daughter. Because I wasn’t there.
“Who is—” Oh, hell. “Who was he?”
“Kyle Grainger. His son, Josh, was in Molly’s class last year. Both of Josh’s parents came today.”
The searing words were bad enough, but the hatred in her eyes...
No wonder Molly had become so skittish around Nate. What had Sonja been telling his daughter about him?
“Is she here?” he managed to say. “Josh’s mother?”
“How would I know?”
What would he have said, anyway? I’ll come to your husband’s funeral in thanks for him saving my kid’s life?
“All right,” he said. “We can go pick up your car if you feel up to driving. If not, I’ll take you home. If you’ll give me the keys, I’ll have somebody bring it to your place.”
“Mr. Fixit,” she jeered. “But why not? Molly needs to go home, not drive all over the county.”
She was right, of course. Maybe he did suck at being a parent. He loved his daughter, though, and he’d have sworn she loved him, too. He worked long hours, but he’d spent a great deal of his off time with Molly. The one who had been shorted was Sonja, but he’d expected her to understand. But, hey, probably his marriage had been over a lot longer than he’d known.
Standing, he reached out for Molly. “Let me carry her.”
“No!” Shielding their little girl with her body, Sonja struggled to her feet. “She needs her mother. Just take us home. Then you can go back to work.”
Aware that people were staring, he clenched his teeth and said nothing. He might go back to work. Clearly, Sonja wouldn’t be inviting him in so he could talk to Molly about her terrifying experience. His beautiful house wasn’t much anymore but a place where he slept. He’d have happily let Sonja have it, but she’d wanted only money.
“If I stayed in this house, I’d keep thinking you might walk in the door anytime.” Her ringing endorsement of their marriage.
He walked beside his ex-wife and daughter down the corridor to the elevator. Molly clung to her mother and didn’t once look at him.
They had the elevator to themselves until it stopped at the lobby level, where the doors opened. A lone woman waited, blond hair falling out of an elastic, strands straggling around her too-pale, fine-boned face. She looked drained, as if she couldn’t summon the will to so much as step into the elevator even if she had pushed the button to call it.
Instinct drove Nate to take a step toward her. As he did, her vacant stare shifted from him to Sonja and Molly. Horror took over her face. Her eyes fastened on him, and she lurched back. The next thing he knew, she was hurrying away, walking faster and faster.
The elevator doors tried to close but bounced back open with him in the way. He didn’t move. It tried again, and finally he stepped back.
Not looking at Sonja, he said, “That was her, wasn’t it?”
“Yes.”
An impassive expression was his default. Inside, he’d been shredded. His heart raced. He didn’t think he’d ever forget the way the new widow had looked at him.
CHAPTER TWO (#u26416ed5-13a2-5021-9a99-72c96c0505e0)
THE MIDDLE-AGED WOMAN gazed at Anna with unmistakable pity. “You weren’t aware your husband cashed out his retirement fund?”
Given the past weeks, she’d grown increasingly numb, unable to feel much other than a crawling sense of fear. Pity couldn’t touch her.
She didn’t respond directly to the question. “When did he do that?”
“The week before...” She hesitated.
He died.
The matching fund wouldn’t have been much, given the short time Kyle had worked here, but anything would have been better than nothing.
Somehow she managed to nod and even smile as she rose to her feet. Pride was a wonderful thing. “Thank you. I so wish he’d kept better records.” Anna held on to her smile until she’d left the building and was making her way across the parking lot.
Better records? What she so wished was that her husband hadn’t been a fool. She’d begun to realize that much over the past few years, but her attempts to talk sense into him hadn’t made a dent. Learning how deceitful he’d been, that came as a surprise. He’d erased every bit of security she’d thought she had. And for what? She’d been so enraged to see the pittance he’d gotten when he cashed out his life insurance. It hadn’t developed much value, since they’d only purchased it when she was pregnant with Josh, but it would have been paid out in full now that he’d died—$100,000.
“I want to be sure you and any kids we have are taken care of,” Kyle had murmured in her ear after they’d left the insurance office. His smile had been so tender. “Even if something happens to me, you’ll have this.”
That shock had been the worst, if not the last. No insurance payout. No savings. No retirement funds. Over time, he had cashed out everything, often paying substantial penalties to do it. With what he’d gotten, he had made risky investments that all bombed, apparently certain each time that he’d make big money.
No, what she should wish was that she hadn’t been such a fool. She’d asked about money and investments, but allowed him to get away with explanations that didn’t quite make sense and reassurances that he had everything handled. Since he had been working and she hadn’t, she’d felt a little funny about demanding an equal financial partnership.
And yet Anna had grown increasingly uneasy and frustrated with Kyle’s inability to stick with a job. Early in their marriage, she had believed in him wholeheartedly, but by the time they started a family, she saw the pattern.
With each new job, he would start with great enthusiasm. Like clockwork, she’d watch that enthusiasm dim. He was bored. They weren’t making use of his talents. He’d start looking around for something better. “Today was the last straw,” he would finally declare, with great indignation. “I had to quit. But don’t worry, I won’t have any trouble finding a new job. A better one.”
He hadn’t, until the last time, two years ago. His inconstancy had begun to look bad on a résumé. It took two months before he was offered a position he grudgingly accepted. She’d cut every corner she could to get them through until a paycheck.
Kyle teased her for being a worrier. “Lucky you have me to provide balance.” How many times had she heard him say that?
In her car now, Anna put the key in the ignition but didn’t start the engine. She sat without moving, staring ahead blindly as her mind raced.
She’d have to take Josh out of day camp. One less bill. Except...then when she had to go out, she’d have to pay Mrs. Schaub more to watch both kids. He was happy with his friends at the camp. If she could find a job right away...
Waitressing? Being a receptionist? Day care? She could offer day care at home and not have to pay other people to watch her kids, but only if she could afford to keep the house, which she couldn’t. Substitute teaching for the local school district, even if the work proved to be reasonably steady, wasn’t an option. Given the area’s cost of living, the pay was inadequate, and as a part-time employee, she wouldn’t have benefits. Anyway—school didn’t start for another six weeks.
Fear cramped in her again at the reminder that in less than two weeks, she and the kids would lose their health insurance.
What it came down to was that no job she was qualified to do would pay the basic bills, never mind justify the additional day care. Staying home with the kids, not working for so many years, had been a mistake of monstrous proportion. She’d trusted the man she loved, who had been untrustworthy.
A man who’d willingly sacrificed his own life to save a young girl he didn’t even know.
How could she harbor feelings so bitter, so angry, for the funny, kind man who would do something like that?
How could she not?
She almost had to leave Josh at day camp until she could finish painting the entire interior of their house and pack enough of their possessions to make it ready for prospective buyers to view, she concluded. At least Jenna took naps and was usually able to play quietly while Mommy scrubbed and painted and sorted. With his energy level, Josh couldn’t be as patient.
Maybe there’d be a quick sale. But her panic didn’t subside, and for good reason. Even if the house sold at full price, she wouldn’t end up with all that much money. The market had sagged since they’d bought the modest rambler in Bellevue. They hadn’t spent the money they should have to update it. Increasingly, people expected granite countertops, skylights, hardwood floors, not aluminum windows, ancient Formica, worn beige carpets.
The real estate agent had strongly advised new carpet, at least. Anna could put that on a credit card and pay it off once the house sold. Other improvements were out of reach.
She had no choice but to move away. The Seattle area was chasing San Francisco and New York City for the most expensive places in the country to live. Of course, salaries would be lower in Montana or eastern Oregon or wherever else she went, too. At the very least, she’d have to find a college town where she could take classes to refresh her teaching certificate or make herself employable doing something besides hoisting a heavily laden tray or answering phones.
When finally the tension eased enough to leave her limp, she started the car and saw the dashboard clock. She’d been chasing herself on the hamster wheel for twenty minutes. Twenty wasted minutes. Usually, she put off her frightened scrabbling in search of solutions until bedtime. Who needed sleep when you could lie rigid in the dark and try to figure out how to survive with two young children when you had next to no money?
Anna had never imagined being so close to having no home at all.
* * *
THE ONLY LIGHTS in the family room were one standing lamp and the ever-shifting colors of the TV. Through the window, Nate saw the glitter of lights across the lake in Seattle and a few sparkling on the mast of a boat gliding through the dark water.
Staying unnoticed in the doorway, he glanced at the TV to see what Molly was watching. The Lego Movie. Amusing, as he recalled.
He switched his attention to his daughter, who had curled into the smallest possible ball in the corner of the sofa. She clutched a throw pillow in her arms as if it was a flotation device—all that would keep her from drowning. He’d swear she hadn’t blinked in at least a minute. She was either mesmerized by the movie or not seeing it at all.
At least she wasn’t watching Moana again. That one, with the tense father/daughter thing going, made him uncomfortable.
All she’d wanted since he’d picked her up this morning was to watch a succession of DVDs. Having a waterfront home on Lake Washington used to be a plus. Today, she’d been careful to keep her back to the view of the lake. Okay, that was understandable, but she hadn’t wanted to ride her bike, which he kept in his garage, either, or play a board game. He’d bought two skateboards a while back, one child-sized, one adult, along with pads for knees and elbows and helmets. Sonja didn’t approve, of course, but skateboarding on the driveway was one of the few activities done with her father that had delighted Molly. Today? “No, thank you, Daddy.”
After thanking him politely and refusing to go out to a pizza place they both liked, she nibbled at what he put in front of her for lunch and dinner. She hadn’t talked any more than she absolutely had to.
Abruptly, he’d had enough.
He flicked on the overhead light and strode to the sofa, where he grabbed the remote and turned off both DVD player and television.
Molly sat up. “Daddy!”
“That’s enough, honey. You haven’t taken your eyes off that TV all day. You and I need to talk.” He sat on the middle cushion, within reach of his kid.
Her lower lip pooched out. “I was watching the movie!”
“How many times have you seen it?” Unsurprised that she didn’t answer, he said, “Often enough to know how it ends.”
She bent her head and stared at her lap.
He reached over and gently tipped up her chin. Her big eyes, a vivid green, finally met his.
“I know falling in the river scared you. But keeping everything you feel inside isn’t healthy. You haven’t told me yet what really did happen.”
She mumbled something about her mother.
“I need you to talk to me, too.”
Tears shimmered in her eyes. “Mr. Grainger is dead,” she whispered. “Like Tuffet.”
Tuffet had been her cat, named because he’d let her lie on him whenever she wanted. When Sonja had moved out, she’d taken the cat along with Molly. According to Molly, Tuffet got sick and died. Sonja had admitted to him that the cat had somehow slipped out and been hit by a car.
“I know,” Nate said now, tugging Molly over to lean on him.
“Mommy says it’s your fault, because it was hard to watch so many kids at the same time.” Even her intonations parroted her mother’s. “If you were there, you coulda watched me.”
“That’s true,” he had to say, “but most of the kids only had one parent along, didn’t they? And were assigned three other kids.”
After a hesitation, her head bobbed against him.
His eyes stung from unfamiliar grief mixed with the rare joy at holding her in his arms. He’d loved his little carrottop with unexpected ferocity from the minute the doctor had handed over the beet-red, squalling newborn. If she’d drowned... Even as he shied away from an inner vision of her limp, lifeless, pallid body, his heart cramped painfully.
“Mommy said it’s my fault, too, ’cuz I did something I wasn’t s’posed to.”
Sharp anger supplanted the pain. Molly was old enough to take responsibility for her actions, but not to confront that kind of guilt. What the hell was Sonja thinking?
“Okay.” He shifted to allow him to see her face, wet with tears. “Here’s the thing. Kids break rules all the time. They hide from their parents, or they run from them because it’s fun to be chased. They sneak an extra cookie, or feed an icky food to the cat instead of eating it the way Mommy said they had to.”
She’d quit blinking again, but she was listening.
“I broke my arm when I wasn’t much older than you because I climbed a tree after my dad said I couldn’t. My brother and I used to climb out a skylight to sit on the roof at night, too.”
Her eyes widened. “Did you fall off?”
“No, and your grandma and grandad never caught us.” Of course, there was the time Adam had jumped off, but that was another story.
Her forehead crinkled, and she gave a small nod.
Give your kid ideas, why don’t you?
“The point is, kids don’t always do what their parents or other adults say. Once in a while, they even hurt themselves, like I did when I broke my arm. But it would never have occurred to me that someone else might get hurt because of what I did. That’s because it almost never happens. You didn’t mean it to happen.”
Nate was disconcerted to realize he couldn’t tell what she was thinking. He forged on, anyway.
“Why did you sneak away?”
She didn’t want to answer, but finally said, “I was bored. I was s’posed to stay with the other girls Mommy had to watch, but they didn’t want to play with me. And anyway—” she began to sound indignant “—Melissa said we were going to the river, but instead there was this big, boring field, and I didn’t want to play soccer or run dumb three-legged races or just sit there. Mommy wasn’t any fun, ’cuz she was—” She shrank from him in alarm at what she’d almost said.
Sonja was what? He decided not to press; asking Molly to betray her mother, if that was the case, would only do more damage.
“I would give anything to have been able to come with you that day,” he said finally. “But I can’t go back and make a different decision.”
She nodded solemnly.
“I bet you feel the same.”
Her face crumpled and she swallowed, but nodded again.
“Same deal. You can’t go back. I’m more grateful than I can say to Mr. Grainger. I can’t imagine losing you.”
“But...Josh and his little sister lost their dad.” Tears fell anew. “Because of me. And...and I can swim.”
“Mr. Grainger knew that a girl your size couldn’t possibly be a strong enough swimmer to get out of the current. It pulled you away from the bank, didn’t it?”
Her head bobbed. “I was so scared, Daddy.”
“I doubt he expected to die. He probably thought he’d be able to put his feet down, because rivers aren’t deep like the lake, especially at this time of year. Or he hoped to reach a gravel bar or a snag he could grab. But because he wasn’t a good swimmer, he must also have known that he might be giving his life to save yours. And you know what?”
She waited.
“Wherever he is, I don’t think he regrets making that decision. Most adults would have made the same one.”
“But you’re a good swimmer,” she argued.
“Sure, I probably could have battled my way out of the river. But something could happen another time.” He groped for illustrations. “I might have to step out onto a ledge I know won’t support my weight so I can throw a little girl to safety before it gives way. Run out into traffic on the freeway to save a child, even when the chances are good that the cars won’t be able to stop and I’ll be hit.” He paused. “Do you understand?”
“Yes,” she whispered. “Would Mommy do that, too?”
“Of course she would,” he said, hugging Molly harder, even though he really didn’t know. For Molly, yes—whatever Sonja’s flaws, she loved her daughter. Otherwise? He hated that he even had to wonder.
“I wish...”
“I know, punkin, I know.” He rested his cheek on the top of Molly’s head. She’d talked to him. Thank God, for the first time in a long while she’d opened up.
Now he was left with that unfinished sentence. What had Sonja been doing while her daughter slipped away?
And what about the kids who’d lost their father? The woman who lost her husband? Every time he remembered that moment, her grief becoming horror when she realized who he was, the claws of guilt sank deeper into his flesh.
* * *
A MONTH LATER, Anna trotted down the sidewalk toward the nearest park. Wanting to stay aware of traffic, she hadn’t yet turned on her iPod. There was a time she’d exercised when Kyle was home with the kids. Now, she had to pay Mrs. Schaub to watch Jenna for even this brief escape. Today she was killing two birds with one stone—awful saying that it was—because a real estate agent was showing her house. She knew he actually was, because she hadn’t gone a block when she’d heard an engine and glanced back to see a gleaming silver sedan turning into her driveway.
If there wasn’t an offer soon, she’d have to go to the bank that held the mortgage and explain why she couldn’t make her payments. She prayed they’d give her some time although, of course, the unmade payments, and presumably a penalty, too, would then come out of the already too-skimpy proceeds when the house did sell.
Running was supposed to be a time when she could zone out, but no more.
At least the park lay just ahead. The trail was packed dirt, easier on her knees. Reaching the last crosswalk, she scanned automatically for traffic, seeing only parked cars.
She’d stepped off the curb when alarm zinged through her. There’d been an odd glint of light, as if... Was that a camera pointing at her? Continuing across the street, she looked.
A man sat in a black SUV, the driver’s side window rolled down, and, yes, he was still pointing a camera with a huge lens at her.
The camera disappeared fast when he realized she’d seen him. When she broke into a run diagonally across the street toward the SUV, his window slid up. With the glass tinted, she couldn’t make out his face.
Maneuvering out of the parking spot was taking him too long, though. Maybe this was stupid, but Anna harbored so much anger atop her fear these days, she didn’t care if this was dangerous. She flung herself at the driver’s door and hammered on the window, yelling “Stop!”
He edged forward. She leaped in front of his bumper, forcing him to brake or hit her. He braked. When she pulled her phone from the cuff on her upper arm, the window slid down.
She took a quick picture of the license plate before she confronted him. Taking courage from the presence of a couple across the street who’d started to get into their own car but were now gaping, instead, Anna glared. “Who are you, and why were you photographing me?”
Late thirties, early forties, the man was thin, pleasant-looking. Nondescript, really. “I’m a private investigator,” he admitted. “Ah, your insurance claim...”
“I made no insurance claim. I want to see your license.”
He produced it. His name was Darren Smith, and his employer was Moonrise Investigations.
“Smith? Really?” She handed it back.
Without a word, he tugged a wallet from his back pocket and flipped it open to show his driver’s license.
“Fine,” she snapped. And, crap, the couple were now getting into their car, believing the drama to be over. The busy playground was too far away for any of the parents to notice her. “I’m calling the police. You’ll have to run me over to get away.”
She tapped in 911. Before she could push Send, he swore and said, “Don’t do that. I’ll tell you.”
Anna let her thumb hover over her phone. “Talk.”
“I was hired by a Mr. Nathan Kendrick.”
The name hit her like a sledgehammer.
“He wanted to know what’s going on with you, that’s all. Be sure you and the kids are okay.”
Fury burned through her. “You’ve been taking pictures of my children without my permission?”
“Ah...”
“You son of a bitch,” she said bitingly. “I bet your employer won’t be thrilled when I file a lawsuit. With a little luck, you can kiss that license goodbye!”
Unable to look at him for another second, she ran up the street until she could easily dodge into the park. If she’d had the house to herself, she’d have gone straight home. Jogging held zero appeal, but she grimly started in on her laps through the park, anyway.
Once free to go home and shower, she would pay a visit to Nate Kendrick, the man whose own ex-wife blamed for Kyle’s death.
CHAPTER THREE (#u26416ed5-13a2-5021-9a99-72c96c0505e0)
DESPITE A FRACTURED ability to focus, Nate was doing his best to work through email when his desk intercom buzzed.
His assistant, Kim Pualani, said apologetically, “A woman is here to see you. She doesn’t have an appointment, but says you’ll know who she is.”
He braced himself. “Her name?”
“Ah...Ms. Grainger. Anna Grainger.”
Kim knew what had happened and must have guessed this visit had to do with the tragedy.
“Send her in,” he agreed, although talking to Kyle Grainger’s widow was the last thing he wanted to do after taking the call from the PI.
“She’s on the warpath,” Smith had warned.
But Nate didn’t see an alternative to letting her lay into him. He couldn’t guess whether she’d accept an apology or anything else from him, but he had to try.
The door swung open, allowing him a glimpse of the woman he’d seen so briefly that day in the hospital. He rose to his feet as she walked in and Kim closed the door behind her. At least now, past the shock, Mrs. Grainger was vitally alive, if also furious. The red spots on her cheeks would have told him that much, even without the PI’s warning.
Nate had the uncomfortable realization that he could be attracted to this woman, long and sleek, honey-blond hair captured smoothly in some arrangement he couldn’t see, her dark blue eyes snapping with the same anger that accented high, perfectly honed cheekbones.
He didn’t even want to imagine how she’d react if she guessed her effect on him.
“Mrs. Grainger,” he said. “I’m glad you’re here. I’d intended to stop soon at your house to speak to you. Please, have a seat.”
She marched forward until his desk blocked her. Obviously, sitting down for a civil conversation wasn’t on her agenda. “Once you’d compiled your photographic record of every step I’ve taken? Every step my children have taken?”
“I didn’t ask—”
Anna Grainger talked right over him. “Do you have any idea how violated I feel? How enraged I am to discover someone has been spying on me? While he was at it, did your PI capture some suggestive pictures through a crack in my blinds? Or one of the kids undressing for bed? Which do you prefer, Mr. Kendrick, little girls or little boys?”
His own temper sparked, but with practiced calm he said, “You must guess why I hired a PI firm to monitor how you’re doing. I didn’t ask for photographs, and I haven’t seen any. All I’ve been given are verbal or written reports.”
Vibrating with fury, she snapped, “Then please explain why I caught that...that creep photographing me when I went for a run? Did you need to know I was getting my exercise? Should I reassure you I’m taking my vitamins?”
This wasn’t going anywhere good.
“Mrs. Grainger. All I wanted was to know how you and the kids were. Whether your husband had left you provided for.”
Unfortunately, part of the initial report provided the disturbing answer. Anna Grainger was close to destitute. Her husband had apparently lost all their money and then some in ill-judged investments. He seemed to have had a genius for making terrible decisions. It was possible they’d shared that genius, except her name hadn’t been on any of the paperwork Smith had been able to trace.
“That is none of your business,” she said. “I am none of your business. Do you hear me?”
“I hear you, and I disagree. A series of circumstances led to your husband losing his life to save my child’s life. That places me deeply in your debt.”
She laughed, a caustic sound. “Then I absolve you. I do not want anything from you.”
“I can’t accept that.”
Her head tipped. “What are you offering? Have you put a suitable price on Kyle’s head?”
Nate winced. He had considered offering her money, which she needed as much or more than having her wastrel husband back. He hadn’t thought of it that way, and now that he did, knew an offer would be ill-received. Still...
“If you sued me or my ex-wife, a court would determine a suitable settlement.”
“Blood money.”
He didn’t say anything.
“That, Mr. Kendrick, is why I won’t be suing you. When I caught your PI spying on me, I had every intention of suing his ass, and yours, too. But then everyone would think I was just trying to soak you for money in recompense.”
“You care what everyone else thinks?”
She stiffened. “I care what I think of myself. Butt out, Mr. Kendrick. One more hint that you’re stalking me and I’ll call the cops.”
Crap. He hadn’t thought of what he was doing that way, either.
“Will you listen to my offer first?” Not money. He’d had one other, wild idea, which he’d go with.
“Oh, by all means.”
“I’m guessing that you’re applying for jobs.”
Her shift of expression told him he was right.
“Let me offer you one. We have a large staff at K & L Ventures. Large enough that there are nearly always openings.”
“For a janitor, perhaps? Or do you run a day care down in some alcove in the garage? Well, probably not that, since you’d be depositing your own daughter in it, wouldn’t you?”
He opened his mouth, but she didn’t pause.
“What is it you think I can do, Mr. Kendrick? I have a teaching certificate, but my only classroom experience is student teaching. I’m not a whiz on a computer. Corporate finance? Well, no.” She abandoned sarcasm. “I don’t need your pity or charity. I don’t want anything from you. Is that clear?”
“You’re entitled to compensation for your loss.”
Anna Grainger snorted and stormed out of his office.
* * *
HER REAL ESTATE agent cleared his throat. “The house has only been on the market for six weeks, Mrs. Grainger. That’s not a long time.”
Usually, Alan Lang glowed with energy and enthusiasm. However, he had the kind of mobile face that he could rearrange at will. Right now, he was projecting encouragement and understanding.
Unfortunately, he probably understood her situation all too well. In his business, he’d know desperation when he saw it.
They sat in her living room, freshly painted, decluttered and as clean as she could make it. She’d become a tyrant about making both kids put everything away the second they were done with it. With kids the ages of hers, it took constant vigilance to be sure the house was ready to show at any time of the day or night. Not a dirty cup was left in the sink, a toothpaste smear on a bathroom countertop, a bed unmade or the lawn a quarter of an inch too long.
She’d been astonished to discover how often the doorbell rang during the dinner hour. Invariably, she’d find an apologetic agent on the doorstep asking if she’d mind if potential buyers just took a quick look.
“Of course not,” she’d say with a gracious smile. Like she could afford to say no.
She and her children were currently living an unreal life. A model family living in a model house, except she and the house both were unacceptably shabby.
This afternoon, Alan had stopped by ostensibly to pick up the business cards left by all the agents who’d showed the house. Anna knew he always followed up with a call to find out what the clients had thought. When he’d suggested they sit down and talk, a chill of apprehension had made her wish she had a sweater or sweatshirt at hand.
“When we bought this place, most houses were snapped up within twenty-four hours of being listed.” We. The very word gave Anna a pang that she had to shake off. “To buy one, you had to be in the right place at the right time.”
“With even a slight downturn in prices, the market favors buyers. I’m sorry to say that’s what we’re facing right now.”
“Okay,” she said cautiously. “But people are looking.”
“They are. Which I found encouraging at first.” He cleared his throat. “But now... We haven’t had so much as a nibble. The message I’m hearing from other agents is that the property is overpriced given the need for updates.”
Anna’s heart sank. He had set the price for her house higher than he’d liked in the first place at her insistence. She’d wanted to give herself room to negotiate. “You think we need to lower what we’re asking.”
“I suggest a twenty-thousand-dollar drop.”
She closed her eyes. Twenty thousand dollars—and offers would likely come in ten to twenty thousand dollars lower yet.
A couple calming breaths later, Anna met his eyes. As with so much else these days, she had no choice. She had to get out from under the mortgage, even if she walked away with nothing.
“Go for it,” she agreed, and saw his relief. He probably hadn’t expected her to be sensible.
A minute later, as she was showing him out, he commented, “You’ve kept the place looking good despite, er...” His cheeks reddened.
“Having a four-year-old and a seven-year-old living here?” She knew he wasn’t married and had no children yet. Even though he was probably close to her age, twenty-nine, Anna felt like a stodgy matron in comparison, their life experiences so vastly different. “You have no idea,” she said ruefully.
“Well.” He hovered briefly on the porch. “Let’s keep our fingers crossed this week.”
“Let’s,” she said, if somewhat drily.
After closing the door behind him, she stayed facing it as she battled panic. What if this drop in price wasn’t enough? What if...?
“Mo-om!” Jenna called from the bedroom.
Anna squared her shoulders, turned and put her game face on. She hoped the kids attributed to grief most of the stress they had to sense in her. Whatever else she did, she had to protect Kyle in their eyes. That’s what they needed—and what he’d earned with his sacrifice.
* * *
“CAN I STAY HOME?” Molly begged, sounding subdued. “I don’t feel very good.”
The minute Nate had seen who was calling, he’d known she or her mother would be making an excuse to keep her from spending the weekend with him. “Upset stomach?” he asked.
“Uh-huh.”
Two weeks ago, a friend whose name he didn’t recognize had asked her to a birthday party. Last minute, of course. He’d insisted on taking her out to dinner that Monday. She’d hardly met his gaze, nibbled at her pizza and mumbled a few words in response to his questions or remarks.
Phone conversations with her were useless. He kept having to say, “What?” or “I didn’t hear what you said.”
He’d learned that she hadn’t gone back to day camp. She didn’t know what teacher she’d have this year yet. When he asked if she was excited about school starting in less than two weeks, he got the verbal equivalent of a shrug.
The breakthrough he thought they’d made, talking honestly about the tragedy, had been a one-off. Molly didn’t want to talk to him, didn’t want to see him.
“You can be sick just as well here,” he told her now. “I’ll make you chicken-noodle soup, if you can keep it down, and rent some videos. I can give you hugs, too.”
Silence.
Grimly determined, Nate said, “Go get your mom, Molly. I’d like to talk to her.”
More silence. Waiting, he presumed she was doing as he asked.
“What?” his ex-wife snapped.
“What’s up with Molly?”
“She doesn’t want to go. What a surprise. Thash what happens when you let your daughter down nuff...e-nough times.” If she thought the careful correction helped, she was wrong.
“You’re drunk,” he said flatly.
“I’ve had a cup...couple a glash...glasses of white wine. So what?”
She’d been drinking too much the last year of their marriage. He hadn’t liked it then, and he liked it even less now that Molly was alone with her. Too often, when they spoke in the evening, he could tell she was plastered. If he thought she was drinking when she and Molly went out... But, so far, he had no indication that happened.
A lightning bolt struck. Had Sonja been taking nips from a bottle that day at the park? Was that what Mommy had been doing when Molly slipped away? Sickened, he wondered how he could find out.
“I’m on my way to pick up Molly,” he said. “I’m legally entitled to have her, and considering your state, she’ll be safer with me. I’ll be there in fifteen minutes. Have her ready to go.”
She was yelling at him when he cut her off. At least the other woman who had sliced and diced him recently hadn’t raised her voice.
Nate sat for a minute in his car before he felt patient enough to join the crazy after-six-o’clock traffic in downtown Seattle, laid out with one-way north-south streets and steep east-west streets, all inadequate for the number of cars that poured out of parking garages at this time of day. Usually, he avoided the mess by staying late. Eight, even ten o’clock, although he could just as well answer emails and do his research on his laptop at home. Traffic, he knew, was only an excuse.
He heard Sonja’s voice in his head. Some of us want an actual life.
That stung, because she was right. He didn’t have a life outside work anymore. Why bother? He liked the highs and lows on the job better than he had living with Sonja’s wildly swinging moods. Until another man died saving Nate’s little girl, he hadn’t seen any reason to change.
He shook his head and started the car. The one change he intended to make had to do with Molly. He wasn’t prepared to lose his daughter because his ex-wife had turned her against him.
He was lucky enough to find a parking spot close to the thirty-floor tower where Sonja had bought a condo. When Sonja opened the door, he saw Molly on the sofa with a packed, pink bag beside her. His once bright, cheerful child sat with hunched shoulders, her hair hanging over her face.
Sonja called him a few vicious names before he could usher Molly out. Once she was in the hall, he turned back and said quietly, “Next time, I’ll record you. You’d be smart to think twice before you use that kind of language in front of a seven-year-old child again.”
The door slammed in his face.
He took the bag from Molly and squeezed her shoulder with his free hand. When she stole a look at him, he said, “Let’s go home.”
* * *
WEEKS LATER, ANNA still kept a sharp eye out whenever she left the house, with or without the kids. Catching the PI in the act had taught her a lesson. She’d never be so oblivious again when she went about her business. Mad as she was at Nate Kendrick, at least she didn’t have to worry that he’d use what he had learned to hurt her or the kids.
Which didn’t mean she wasn’t humiliated all over again to find a message from him on her phone when she was waiting for her coffee to brew early Saturday morning.
“Doesn’t look like your house has sold yet,” he said tersely. “My offer is still open. Job or cash settlement. Is your pride more important than your kids?”
That was it. No “Hello,” no “Goodbye.” Her first, stupid thought was to wonder how he’d gotten her cell phone number. As if that mattered.
She stood there in her kitchen, barefoot but otherwise dressed, because she didn’t have the luxury anymore of hanging around in her pajamas, not with the For Sale sign up at the foot of the driveway. Anger, humiliation, dented pride—yes, pride—and fear roiled inside her thanks to Nate Kendrick’s terse message.
He was right. Dear God, he was right. But she’d meant it when she described his offer of a settlement as blood money. What if she had to explain to the kids someday that they’d been living on money from Molly’s dad, paid to alleviate his guilt? She had no doubt that, once she cashed the check, he’d breathe a sigh of relief and go back to his workaholic ways, confident he’d done the right thing. Men like him never made time for their children. They were too addicted to adrenaline, to the pursuit of what Anna’s grandfather had called “the almighty dollar.”
But, with her stomach knotted, she had to face hard reality. If the bank evicted her and the kids, what would she do? Go to a shelter?
She’d give anything to have family to fall back on, but there wasn’t anyone. After Mom died when Anna was eight, she had gone to live with Grandad. She was a sophomore in high school when he had his second stroke, after which she’d been placed in a foster home. His estate had put her through college. She’d been so sure she could take care of herself after that. If only she hadn’t married so quickly, gotten pregnant almost immediately.
No, she couldn’t regret that. Those decisions had given her Josh and Jenna. She couldn’t unwish them.
Anna poured herself a cup of coffee, adding more sugar and milk than usual in hopes of settling her stomach. She felt queasy even thinking about eating.
“Mommy?” Still in her nightgown, Jenna wandered into the kitchen. “Josh told me to go away.”
“Let me guess.” Anna smiled at her daughter. “You tried to wake him up.”
A miniature Anna, Jenna looked mutinous. “He didn’t have to sound so mean.”
“He also doesn’t need to get up for another hour. You know he isn’t a morning person.”
“Like us,” Jenna said with satisfaction, leaning against her mother.
Even as she felt the familiar sting of joy and fear, Anna bent down to hug her daughter. “That’s right. So what’s it going to be? Scrambled eggs and toast, or cereal?”
“I want oatmeal,” she declared.
Instant oatmeal, with lots of sugar, cinnamon and raisins, was a current favorite. Anna made herself have a small serving, too. Yesterday morning, she’d weighed herself before showering to find she’d lost nine pounds. No wonder her face had begun to look gaunt.
After breakfast, she ran a bath for Jenna and sat with her while her little girl pretended she was a mermaid, which involved splashing half the water in the tub onto Anna and the floor. Anna laughed and played along while keeping an ear cocked for the sound of the doorbell.
She had Jenna out of the bath and wrapped in a towel before she woke up her son. He chose oatmeal, too, and when she hustled both kids out to the car, he accepted the lunch she’d packed the night before. Normally Josh took the bus, but since she needed to do a few errands, she’d decided to let him sleep a little later and drive him, instead.
Once at the elementary school, she watched until he met with friends and went inside before starting for the parking lot exit. When her phone rang, Anna braked and grabbed it from the cubby between the front seats.
Alan Lang.
Her heart drummed. This was early for him to be calling. Could he have received an offer on the house?
Please, please, please.
CHAPTER FOUR (#u26416ed5-13a2-5021-9a99-72c96c0505e0)
NATE HAD TAKEN to driving by Anna’s house every few days. No Sold! banner had been tacked onto the For Sale sign planted in her yard.
Twice he saw her.
The first time, she was backing out of the garage, both kids with her. Probably on her way to drop her boy off at school. Nate was glad she didn’t see him even as he fretted about her car, which had to be ten years old, at least. The PI had told him that the Graingers owned a second, much newer vehicle, a Kia crossover, the Sorento. The Kia wasn’t in the garage. With her money tight, she’d been sensible to sell that one, even if it would have been more reliable. He wondered what else she’d had to sell.
The next time he caught a glimpse of her she was setting off on a run, wearing formfitting shorts and a tank top that didn’t hide much of her long-legged slim body. She headed down the sidewalk the opposite way he was going. Unable to tear his eyes from the rearview mirror, Nate almost ran a stop sign at the corner.
He called once more, not surprised when she didn’t answer. After the beep, he said simply, “Let me help, Mrs. Grainger. We can make it a loan, if you’d accept that. Once you’re on your feet again, you can pay me back.”
When that time came, he wouldn’t cash her checks, but he didn’t say that.
She failed to return his call.
What he wanted to do was buy her damn mortgage so she and the kids could stay in the house. He might have done it if he hadn’t felt sure that, given her pride, she’d pack up and move away, leaving him with a modest ranch house he didn’t want and her without whatever pittance she’d get out of the sale. Then he’d have to sell the place himself and track her down to make her accept her equity. If there was any. After some of the sky-high surges in prices in the Seattle area, people found themselves having to sell houses for considerably less than what they’d paid for them only a year or two earlier.
Checking the website of the real estate company listing her house, he saw that she’d had to drop the price a second time.
Worry about Anna Grainger and her two kids might explain the burning in his stomach he had begun to suspect was an ulcer. Or maybe it was worrying about his own daughter that had him taking antacids like a chain-smoker reaching for his next cigarette before the last had burned down. Or was guilt doing the damage?
He’d gotten tough with Sonja, which infuriated her. Without fail, Nate had Molly every other weekend. He also took her out to dinner at least once a week. Spending more time with her, he still couldn’t penetrate her shyness. Once in a while, they’d do okay talking about what kind of dog she wished she had or a movie or her new shoes. Anything touching on the accident, day camp and, especially, her mother shut her up fast.
One positive: at least Molly was no longer in the same school as Josh Grainger. After the divorce, Sonja had chauffeured Molly to Bellevue so she could finish the school year with her friends. This fall, Molly had started in a Seattle elementary school.
Of course, if that damn house ever sold, Josh would no longer go to Molly’s old elementary school, anyway.
Nate called Molly several evenings a week, too, even if all he got were whispered responses. “Uh-uh.” Or “uh-huh.” Nate had to believe his persistence would eventually pay off. In his mind, persistence was an essential quality to achieve success in the business world. Brains helped—charm, too, and the ability to see the real motives of other people. But refusing to quit was number one.
In his darker moments, he had to admit that persuading an investor to trust him might not be analogous to earning a seven-year-old girl’s trust, especially after he’d let her down in such a painful way. Had been letting her down since the divorce, he had come to see.
And then there was the fact that Molly’s mother was undoubtedly bad-mouthing him.
This was one of his off weekends. Nate went into the office for half a day Saturday, but was too restless to concentrate. Finally, he drove down to the waterfront and walked onto the ferry going to Bainbridge Island. It was something he did every few months when he needed to think. This being the first week of October, he was fortunate for such good weather.
Today, he stood outside on the prow and turned his face into the cooling wind. Sunlight glinted off the water, and the Olympic Mountains reared crystal clear on the skyline. Not much snow on them, given the time of year, but they were jagged enough to be impressive, anyway.
When Molly was younger, he’d taken her on ferry rides a few times. If the weather held, maybe they could do that some night this week. The sun was still up in the early evening, and he bet she’d be happy with the food from the café on board.
For once, he tried not to think.
Winslow was as beautiful as ever, with spectacular rocky beaches and cliffs, the picturesque small town tucked in a cove. A couple sailboats were making their way in or out of the marina right by the ferry terminal. Seagulls dove, screeching, and pelicans sat atop pilings. On occasion he’d considered buying a house here, commuting on the ferry instead of in his car. Maybe this would be a good time. He could bring Molly along to look at houses with him so she felt included in his choice.
He actually did feel somewhat more relaxed by the time the ferry docked in Seattle and he walked to his car.
At home he decided not to look at emails. He scanned his missed calls and texts, but didn’t return any of those, either. There was nothing that couldn’t wait until Monday.
He’d have distracted himself by cooking something elaborate for dinner, but lately he hadn’t done well stocking the kitchen. He ended up starting coals in the grill outside, and having a steak and baked potato for dinner. Then he turned on the TV, coasted through fifty channels or so and turned it off.
Mostly he read nonfiction because he never knew what knowledge would turn out to be useful in his job. Tonight he found a thriller he remembered buying and had never gotten to. It was gripping enough to keep his attention as the sun sank and shadows lengthened across the lake.
Dark had fallen when his phone vibrated on the end table. It was later than most people called. He picked up the phone to see Sonja’s number. She might be just drunk enough to want to berate him.
Nate rolled his shoulders and answered, anyway.
“Daddy?” The voice was small and scared sounding.
“Molly? Shouldn’t you be in bed?”
“I can’t make Mommy wake up.”
Oh, hell.
“Where is she, punkin?”
“She fell off the coach,” Molly whispered.
“Did she hit her head?”
“I don’t think so,” his little girl said uncertainly. “She was sick on the floor.”
“All right. I’m on my way. I’ll call for an ambulance, too.”
“I’m scared.”
“I know you are,” he said as gently as possible. “But I think your mom will be fine, and I’ll be there in ten or fifteen minutes. Okay?”
Her answer was shaky.
He’d never made the drive this fast. On the way, he called 911, repeating what Molly told him. If Sonja had dragged herself up by the time he and an ambulance crew got there, she’d be hideously embarrassed, but he couldn’t bring himself to care. Embarrassment was nothing compared to what she’d feel when he was done with her.
Rotating lights seen from a couple blocks away let him know the aid car had beaten him here. He was able to park right behind it. The two medics, carrying equipment and with a rolling gurney, were talking to the doorman, who from the sound of it didn’t like taking responsibility for letting them into a condo without authorization from someone higher up in management. The doorman’s relief was obvious when he recognized Nate, who joined the group and said, “I’m the one who called. I have a key.”
A key he’d pried from a reluctant Sonja shortly after she purchased this condo. She’d finally conceded Molly might need him sometime. Like tonight, he thought grimly.
They rode the elevator up to her floor. The minute he opened the door, he saw Sonja sprawled, unmoving, on the shaggy white rug by the sofa, a cascade of flame-red curls covering her face. Leaving his ex-wife to the EMTs, he called, “Molly?”
Hair straggling from her braid, Molly appeared in the hall. Wearing only a nightgown, she was so pale that her freckles stood out. “Daddy?”
He crouched. With a sob, she flung herself at him. His own eyes stung as she cried, her body shaking.
Damn Sonja, he thought viciously. How could she do this to her child?
Molly wiped her wet face on his shoulder and pulled back enough to whisper, “Is Mommy dead?”
“I don’t think so.” Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the paramedics working over Sonja. “Tell you what, why don’t you go get dressed and pack a bag. You’re going home with me. I’ll see how your mom is doing. Okay?”
She nodded, sniffled and retreated.
Nate returned to the living room just as the EMTs shifted Sonja onto the gurney.
“How is she?” he asked.
The woman glanced at him. “Still unconscious. Given the, er, odor, we took the liberty of checking the trash beneath the kitchen sink. It’s half-full with hard-liquor bottles. She dropped a glass—” she nodded toward a side table “—that seems to have held gin.”
He’d smelled it the minute he walked through the door. Sonja had loved martinis. Apparently, she’d quit bothering to add vermouth or an olive.
“As you can see, she vomited. It was lucky she was lying on her side. She could have choked on it.”
The man said, “Her breathing is irregular and slow, and she’s hypothermic. We need to take her in. She’ll likely be kept under observation overnight.” Expression sympathetic, he added, “You may want to tell your daughter she might have saved her mother’s life by calling you.”
“Thanks.” Nate looked at his unconscious ex-wife and shook his head. “I can’t believe this.”
Having a drinking problem was one thing, but boozing herself into a stupor when she was all Molly had? Had it ever occurred to her that she was scaring the shit out of her young daughter?
After watching the pair wheel Sonja out, Nate took the time to clean up the puke. Then he turned out lights, scooped Molly up and pulled her small suitcase with his free hand. He was past ready to take her home.
* * *
ANNA SAT AT the kitchen table, feeling numb. It was done. The house had finally sold—but for a price that would have left her still owing money on it if Alan hadn’t told her, firmly, that he had reduced his commission by one percent. According to his calculations, that would allow her to pay off the mortgage in full.
She had wanted to argue, to tell him he didn’t need to do that, but instead had said shakily, “Thank you. You’ve worked so hard to sell my house, it’s not fair.”
“I’m glad to do it,” he’d said kindly, before gathering up his papers and departing.
Since the couple had been preapproved for a loan, Alan didn’t foresee any problems.
Alone now, Anna couldn’t even feel relief. Now she had to face all her other problems.
This past week, she had spent hours on the internet, applying for positions as a paraeducator, or teacher’s aide, at school districts in eastern Washington, Oregon and Idaho. Unfortunately, so far they all had a full roster, as she’d feared. A month into the school year had to be the worst time to apply. She’d had several responses, however, expressing interest in using her part-time or as a fill-in, and possibly as a substitute teacher, too.
She’d be rolling the dice when she chose where to go. The work could be steady—or not. There’d be no benefits. But she’d concluded this was her best route back to teaching. It would give her experience and references; with luck, she’d be liked enough to be hired as a teacher next fall in the same district. Somehow, she’d pick up other part-time work to put food on the table.
Possibilities so far included Moses Lake in eastern Washington, La Grande in eastern Oregon or Idaho Falls, Idaho. Idaho Falls sounded touristy enough to push rents up too high for her.
She didn’t have to decide today. Soon, though. And maybe she’d get more responses this week. This was only Monday. If she was lucky, one of those many school districts she had contacted would have a full-time aide quit unexpectedly.
She really ought to go over to Mrs. Schaub’s and fetch Jenna. Josh, of course, was in school. More than Jenna, he didn’t want to move, and she couldn’t blame him. If she could stay... But it was impossible. Rent anywhere on the Eastside would be far beyond her means, even if she found a similar patchwork of jobs here. She had faith he’d adjust. Josh had always been good at making friends.
Her phone rang, and she recognized the number immediately. The man just would not give up.
This time, she answered. “Mr. Kendrick, I’ve asked you to leave me alone.”
“Please. Will you listen to me?”
Surprised at what might have been a note of desperation in his voice, she sighed. “Yes, if it doesn’t take long. I need to get back to packing.”
Well, start packing, but he didn’t have to know that.
“You sold your house?”
“At last.” Her effort to sound pleased fell flat to her ears.
“The timing might be good.” Was he talking to himself?
“Mr. Kendrick?”
“I’m sorry. I, ah, have something of a problem.” He hesitated. “I’ll ask you not to repeat what I’m going to tell you.”
Was this a subterfuge on his part to get his way? She was curious enough, though, to say, “I promise.” Not like she’d be here to gossip even if she wanted to.
“My ex-wife has become an alcoholic,” he said bluntly. “I’ve been worried, but she seemed to drink primarily in the evening and didn’t go out. Saturday night, though, Molly called me because she couldn’t wake her mother up.”
Anna exclaimed, “Oh, poor Molly!”
“She was petrified. Turned out, Sonja was in a drunken stupor. I had to call medics, and she spent the night in the hospital. I insisted she enter a treatment program to have any hope of maintaining custody of Molly.”
“So Molly is with you?”
“That’s right. It’s been a challenge. I left late for work this morning, came home in time to meet her school bus. I should enroll her in that after-school program, but she begged me not to. She’s...fragile right now.”
“Couldn’t you...well, take some vacation?”
“A monthlong one?” He sounded incredulous. “No.”
“You could—” The words hire someone died. Duh. Why else had he called her? At last, he had a job to offer that fit her qualifications.
“I have an attached apartment meant for a housekeeper that has never been used,” he continued. “Would you consider moving in, even if only temporarily, to take care of Molly when I can’t be here?”
Of course, she should say, I’m sorry. No. Whether Sonja’s attempt to blame him for Kyle’s death was unfair or not—and Anna didn’t know enough to judge—she should keep her distance from this man.
But another thought crept in. With a month’s grace, Josh could finish the soccer season with his team. Have a little longer at school with his friends and a teacher Anna especially liked. Only...wouldn’t it be better for all of them to get the move over with, not put it off?
A temporary job like this would give her some breathing room.
“I don’t know,” she heard herself say. “Where do you live?”
“Just south of Meydenbauer Bay.”
Waterfront? She didn’t ask.
“I’ll pay you on top of providing housing,” he added.
“Don’t be ridiculous. The savings on not having to pay rent would be huge.” Was she seriously discussing this? “And given that you only need part-time help—”
“The apartment isn’t ideal,” he said with a hint of apology. “There’s only one bedroom, so it’ll be a squeeze for three of you.”
It will. Apparently, he had no doubt about her answer.
She’d have time to make the right decision about what they’d do next. And she felt for Molly, undergoing a second trauma on top of the first. Even before this happened, living with an alcoholic parent must have been scary.
Had kids talked after the disaster about how Mr. Kendrick was supposed to have been there, that if he had been, Josh’s dad wouldn’t have had to go in the water to save Molly? If so, Josh hadn’t said so.
She was still angry at Nate Kendrick. Even so... Anna sighed, ashamed to be succumbing so easily, but also aware of relief pouring through her veins. “You don’t even know me.”
“Molly likes you. She says you used to help out in her classroom.”
“I did, but is that enough of a reference?”
“The PI’s report was thorough.”
At the reminder, she came close to hanging up on the man. It was for Molly’s sake she didn’t—or so she told herself. “If I do this, will you be satisfied?” she asked. “Will you stop trying to give me money?”
“No,” he said without hesitation. “I owe you too much. This isn’t about what happened. Molly needs you. I need you.” The growl in his voice told her that he didn’t like needing her. Or anyone?
He could hire someone else, of course, but trusting a stranger with your child wasn’t easy. He and she...weren’t quite strangers, even though she’d only met him face-to-face the once, if she didn’t count his appearance in the hospital elevator.
“Don’t you have family who can help?”
“My parents would come if I asked, but my father has health problems. I don’t want to lean on them right now.”
When she didn’t answer immediately, he apparently read her hesitation as resistance. “Do you and the kids still have health insurance?” he asked.
Low blow. She bit her lip. “No.” She hadn’t been able to afford to extend their coverage, which meant living in terror that one of the kids might get hurt or sick.
“My company provides insurance to employees. I’ll add the three of you on it while you’re working for me.”
He knew just how to undermine her stubbornness. It caved in. She might regret this, but she made the decision. “Okay. I’ll do it, with the understanding that it’s temporary.”
“Thank you,” he said huskily. He cleared his throat. “Can you come soon?”
“Is the apartment furnished?”
“No. I’ll pay to have your furniture moved here. We can put the rest into storage.”
A new bill, but she’d call all the nearby school districts right away in hopes one or several of them could use her as a substitute teacher and/or aide. And, thank goodness, living so close by, she could continue to take Jenna to Mrs. Schaub’s.
Thinking it through, she said, “I could come tomorrow with what we’ll need right away, as long as you don’t mind renting a truck twice. I’d have to come back here daytimes to pack everything that will go into storage.”
“Movers can do that for you.”
Oh, so tempting, but she needed to weed their possessions. “No, I’d rather do it.”
“Why don’t Molly and I pick you up this evening?” he suggested. “We could all go out for pizza, then we can show you the apartment so you have a better idea what you’ll need.”
Go out for pizza with a man she wanted to hate? It wasn’t too late to change her mind. Only...she remembered her first sight of a sopping wet redheaded girl sobbing her heart out.
She could be polite for the one evening. They wouldn’t have to see much of each other after this. She’d hand off childcare duties and retreat to the apartment. She and Molly’s father could leave each other notes, or he could call to let her know his schedule.
“Yes. Okay,” she said, even as she wondered why she felt as if she’d made a decision more momentous than it seemed.
CHAPTER FIVE (#u26416ed5-13a2-5021-9a99-72c96c0505e0)
SHARING A BOOTH at the pizza parlor with Anna Grainger and her two kids felt surreal. She remained wary, at the very least, where he was concerned. Her answering the phone at all had felt like a miracle.
There was definitely a strain. He was too damned aware of what a beautiful woman she was. She didn’t want to meet his eyes, and did her best to keep the kids chattering to forestall any need to speak to him. On the other hand...she’d already accomplished another miracle. Molly was talking, too.
Although it might have been the four-year-old who’d engaged Molly. The girl was bold and determined nobody would hold out on her. When Molly hadn’t responded to her initial conversational forays, Jenna would say, “Huh, Molly? That’d be fun, wouldn’t it? Even Josh says it would. Right, Josh? Right, Molly?”
In fact, her high, sweet voice filled any silence, which was fine by Nate. Josh and Molly started shy with each other, but once Jenna broke the ice, they, too, argued about TV shows and movies and whether this pizza was as good as the pizza at Pagliacci. The more gourmet places were not on her kids’ radar any more than they were on Molly’s. She liked plain cheese. As it turned out, Jenna concurred. The three kids shared one pie, with pepperoni on half of it for Josh. Nate and Anna agreed on a slightly more sophisticated choice, with mozzarella, Asiago, fresh chopped basil, garlic and sliced tomatoes. They ate salads, too. She didn’t bother asking her kids if they wanted one. When he did ask Molly, she said, “No, thank you, Daddy,” in that irritatingly polite way she had of keeping him at a distance.
Josh grumbled that frozen pizzas were never this good. Then he said, “We haven’t been here for a long time. Mom wouldn’t—”
She cut in, her tone light. “Mom abused you with home-cooked meals. Is that what you’re saying?”
“No, but—”
Somehow she diverted him, but Nate noticed her cheeks had warmed.
He had to grit his teeth to keep himself from saying something. He didn’t like the reminder that she’d turned down help from him even as she had to worry about every penny. It also hadn’t escaped his notice that she had lost weight.
“Pizza’s good,” he commented, waiting until she reluctantly glanced at him.
“Yes, it is. Thank you for suggesting this.”
“Tell me about the house sale,” he said, wanting to hold on to her attention now that he had it. “Do you have any idea when you can close?”
Josh pantomimed slamming something onto the table, and Molly and Jenna giggled. Hearing that giggle, Nate felt lighter. The pizza didn’t seem to be aggravating his stomach problems, either.
“No. The buyers need financing, so even though they were preapproved, we have to wait while the loan request goes through. Alan—my agent—thought about a month.”
“Are you ending up in the hole?”
She leveled a stare at him. “I can’t believe you asked that.”
“I’m a pushy guy.” She didn’t appear to see persistence as the virtue he did.
Her eyes narrowed. “What’s so funny about that?”
“A private thought.”
“You mean, you do understand the concept of privacy?”
He laughed. “Yeah, I do. I just figure it never hurts to ask.”
“It doesn’t hurt you,” Anna said very quietly.
Sobering, he nodded. “You’re right. I’m sorry.”
Seeing the deliberate way she turned a shoulder to him and joined the kids’ conversation again, he realized he’d stepped in it. Damn it, why had he thought she’d answer a question like that? He rarely surrendered to impulse.
He tuned in to hear Anna asking Molly about her teacher. Josh didn’t seem to be reacting negatively to seeing Molly again, so enrolling her in her old school here in Bellevue shouldn’t be a problem.
Or, hey, Josh and Molly might be as good at hiding what they were really thinking as the two adults were.
They boxed up what pizza was left and took it with them, returning to their two cars. Hers looked even shabbier beside his Lexus.
“Stick close,” he reminded Anna, after being sure Molly was belted in properly.
She was still strapping her own wriggling daughter into the back seat. “With the address, I imagine I could find it.”
He dragged his gaze from her shapely rear end. “It’s tricky knowing which driveway is ours.”
“Fine.”
Pulling out of the parking lot, Nate kept an eye on the rearview mirror. It took him a few blocks to notice that Molly hadn’t said a word.
“You like Josh and Jenna?” he asked.
Anna’s old car was hanging close behind.
“Yes, only—” Molly screwed up her face. “It’s my fault their daddy is gone, so why aren’t they mad?”
Hating the agony he heard in her voice, Nate said, “Maybe they know it’s not your fault. We talked about this.”
“Yes, but...” She bent her head, hiding her expression.
He waited, to no avail. “Anna doesn’t blame you, either, or she wouldn’t have agreed to come live with us until your mom is better and ready to take you back.”
No comment. He hadn’t a clue what Molly thought about her mother’s absence. Living with an alcoholic parent couldn’t be easy at any age. Was she relieved? Desperate for Mommy to take her home? Or justifiably afraid Mommy wouldn’t be better, after all?
Nate made the turn onto Shoreland Drive, satisfied to see Anna still right behind. The private lane wasn’t well marked. At the end, it split into three driveways, his being the right-hand one. The view of the lake opened, and he tapped the remote control to access the garage, driving straight in. Anna parked where she’d have room to make a tight U-turn when it came time to leave.
He got out, circling to help Molly if she needed it, which she didn’t. Anna’s kids huddled close to their mother as they stared at his house, eyes wide.
“Somehow I knew you’d have lakefront,” Anna said drily, her hands resting on her children’s shoulders in reassurance.
Feeling defensive, Nate said, “This isn’t as luxurious as some of the waterfront homes in Medina or Hunts Point.”
“You mean, your house isn’t forty thousand square feet, like Bill Gates’s supposedly is?”
“No, it definitely isn’t.” He tried for a little humor. “I don’t want to get lost in the middle of the night trying to find the bathroom.”
Nobody laughed. The funny part, Nate thought, was that, once upon a time, Sonja had wanted to move. Plenty of celebrities called Yarrow Point or Hunts Point home. She liked the idea of living next to a star pitcher for the Mariners or a big shot in the software world. “You could afford it,” she used to complain. Yes, he could, but he liked where he lived, or had until he lost his family. It was just as well he hadn’t let her wear him down, or he’d be rattling around in an even bigger house now.
“Ah...come on in. We’ll give you the grand tour.”
Her kids moved in step with her when they followed. His Mediterranean style house clearly intimidated them, even though he didn’t consider it ostentatious. The cream-colored stucco exterior was accented by a red-tile roof. Broad, double doors in a dark, carved wood gave an aged feel. Inside, light poured through the vast windows looking out on Lake Washington. The decor was simple—hardwood floors, scattered rugs, leather and brocade upholstered furniture, wood furniture mostly cherry in a modified mission style with clean lines. He’d bought some art he liked for the walls, since Sonja had taken what she considered hers. He’d erased most of the fussier accents that had her stamp, too.
“This is...really nice,” Anna said in a stifled voice.
“Thank you.” He showed her the family room, which was nearest to the front door but having French doors that could be closed to contain noise, then led her to the kitchen, open to the living and dining areas. He didn’t use the room designed to be a home office on this level, preferring one upstairs that had a lake view. There were empty bedrooms upstairs, too. He kept those doors closed to keep the house from feeling any lonelier than it already did.
The tour continued upstairs to Molly’s bedroom. Anna’s discomfiture hadn’t abated, and neither had her kids’. Even Jenna had been struck silent, which he had the impression wasn’t a natural state for her.
Nate’s bedroom was just beyond Molly’s, the door standing open. He saw Anna sneak a peek, and was glad she couldn’t see much from this angle. He surely didn’t want to picture her in his bedroom. Her presence in the house unsettled him enough already, in part because he hadn’t managed to squelch images of her not only in his room, but also in his bed. However, most of his discomfiture was the result of him trying to see his home through her eyes. His guilt revved into a higher gear.
Did she feel like the beggar maid, brought to the palace by King Cophetua? Nice thought. If he’d made a different choice, Anna would still have a husband and her own house.
Assuming, of course, he had made a difference in the day’s outcome instead of paying more attention to texts and emails coming in on his phone than he did to his daughter.
He and Sonja hadn’t split because of his dedication to his job—but it had played a part. Remembering what she’d said about wanting a life still stung, even though he knew damn well she wouldn’t have been happy if he’d decided he could cut back on work and brought home a lower income.
Jenna broke the silence. “I like your bedroom.” Still in the hall, peering into Molly’s room, she sounded wistful. “Can I play with your Barbie house?”
Nate wasn’t sure Molly ever did.
His daughter hesitated. “It’s okay if you’re careful with my stuff.”
“There’s no reason Jenna would be playing in here when she isn’t with you,” Anna said firmly. “Your dad said we’d have our own apartment.”
Molly’s eyes darted to Anna. “But we can play together when I get home from school, can’t we?”
Anna smiled. “Sure.”
“Speaking of the apartment...” he said, sounding like an overenthusiastic tour guide.
Jenna gave a final, lingering look into a pink-and-purple bedroom that was stocked with entirely too many toys. Many Molly had left behind when she moved out with Sonja. He doubted she’d ever touched a lot of the dolls and stuffed animals.
Had he satisfied himself with the notion that if he bought her everything a little girl could want, she wouldn’t notice that Daddy was hardly ever around?
Only one of many uncomfortable realizations he’d been hit with since Molly had come so close to dying.
He wished now he didn’t have to show the Graingers where they’d be staying. The contrast was too stark.
* * *
THE APARTMENT WASN’T BIG, but Anna had sighed in relief when she saw it. It felt...snug. Like a cocoon, a refuge.
Once home, she worked for hours that evening after tucking in Josh and Jenna. She moved room to room, deciding what they’d need and hastily packing it. She’d do the kids’ bedrooms tomorrow morning after getting Josh off to school. Tonight she whizzed through the kitchen first, boxing up the necessities except for what they’d use for breakfast. She tagged bright pink sticky notes onto the furniture she thought would fit into the apartment over the three-car garage on Nate’s estate. That’s all she could think to call a home that should have been in a magazine.
The apartment could be accessed from the outside, but also had a staircase that opened in the main house by the kitchen. Servants stairs, only not as steep and narrow as she knew they’d been in eighteenth-and nineteenth-century homes. Same principle, though.
Currently working in the dining room, she tossed two sets of place mats into a box, but left everything else in the buffet to go to storage. Or get rid of. When had she last used the set of eight crystal goblets that had been a wedding gift?
Her bedroom didn’t take long, either. Everything that had been on the closet shelf was already packed in totes piled in the garage. She retrieved suitcases from the garage and filled the big one with her clothes and shoes. The medium-sized suitcase should handle a basic wardrobe for Josh—his sports stuff could go in the duffel—and Jenna had her own small pink rolling suitcase.
Both of them would want some of their toys, games and books, but they wouldn’t need all. Especially books—they’d visit the library more often.
In front of her dresser, she sank to her butt in sudden exhaustion and leaned against her bed. This was crazy. Why had she agreed to do it?
She looked around her bedroom, both familiar and, weirdly, not. Kyle’s half of the closet was already empty, as was his dresser. During the sleepless night after her discovery that he’d cashed out the life-insurance policy, she’d grabbed garbage bags and gone through all his stuff. She’d dropped most of it at a thrift store the very next day. Part of her was grateful for the anger that had carried her through such a horrible task. She’d packed a single box of his things that she or one of the kids might someday want, including a few shirts that had evoked him so vividly she had pressed the soft fabric to her face and cried.
Her mood was odd tonight, maybe because she was so tired Anna wondered if Kyle would even know her now. She didn’t belong in this bedroom anymore. The bed was going into storage; she’d decide later whether she wanted to replace it. Her dresser could go in the bedroom closet in the apartment. In fact, she’d take over the closet, since the kids didn’t need to hang up any of their clothes. They’d share one dresser—Josh’s, since it was taller—and the coat closet was the perfect place for his sports equipment. She hoped Molly didn’t mind hanging around the soccer field during his practices and games.
Still feeling strange, Anna told herself it was too late for second thoughts. Tomorrow night, she’d sleep on her sofa in that small, bare apartment. She’d work for a man who made her uncomfortable in a thousand ways, starting with his too-perceptive gray eyes and obvious wealth.
No, she reminded herself, she wouldn’t see much of him, anyway. And why get worked up about what was really only going to be an interlude?
* * *
NATE’S CONCENTRATION WASN’T the best Tuesday.
He’d started the day by calling the elementary school in Seattle where Molly had spent only a few weeks to let them know he was withdrawing her. Then he’d driven her to the school she’d attended for kindergarten and first grade, explained the situation and enrolled her. Trying to put her at ease, the principal decided to fit her into Josh’s class. Nate didn’t comment, but wasn’t so sure that would help. Surrounded by his crowd of buddies, Josh might not be willing to speak to a mere girl. Nate reminded himself that she’d probably know some of the other kids in the class.
He and the principal walked Molly to her new second-grade classroom. Absolute silence fell as they entered. Every single student stared as the principal explained quietly to the teacher, a Mrs. Tate, that she had an addition to her class. Molly seemed to become smaller and smaller, looking at her feet as she gripped his hand so tightly he suspected she was cutting off his circulation.
Fortunately, Mrs. Tate was young and immediately friendly, beaming at Molly as she welcomed her and said, “Class, we have a new student. Some of you will remember Molly Kendrick from last year.” Then she looked around her room. “Let’s see. Where shall we put you?”
A girl’s voice rang out. “Molly can sit with us! Put her here.”
Molly sucked in a breath and raised her head. “Arianna?”
He bent to murmur, “Is she a friend?”
“She was one of my bestest friends last year.” Molly dropped his hand, and Mrs. Tate escorted her to a square of four desks put together. One was empty, at least for today.
Grateful to see he was forgotten, Nate had returned to the office to revise the short list of people authorized to pick up his daughter. The list had remained in her file from last year. With Anna’s name added, he’d finally headed for work, arriving only two hours later than usual.
Then, instead of accomplishing anything meaningful, Nate worried about whether yanking Molly out of class and dropping her into a new one several weeks into the year was the right thing to do. He had no trouble imagining what Sonja would have to say about it.
How much change was too much for his little girl? Given that she’d probably have to switch back to the other school four weeks from now, she might have been better off if he’d continued to drive her to the school in Seattle and pick her up. Sonja would accuse him of selfishness and might even be right—but he’d be restricted to six-hour workdays instead of his usual ten or more. He couldn’t ask Anna to do all that driving, especially not in her old car. He could just imagine her response if he offered to buy her a new one. If he had to get Molly to school and pick her up when it let out, he could do some work from home while Anna kept an eye on Molly, but he couldn’t meet with anyone or extend his day for drinks or working dinners. It just wasn’t feasible.
Too late, anyway. Nate consoled himself that Molly hadn’t seemed to like her previous teacher very much. Maybe when she had to return to that school, they’d agree to shift her to another class. Or maybe that would be one too many changes.
He groaned and scrubbed his scalp, glad he was currently alone.
He also called Anna several times, once to be sure the moving truck had shown up, and then again to confirm she was at the house before the end of the school day. Had she remembered to contact the school to let them know which bus Josh was supposed to ride?
“Yes,” she said, almost patiently, “I went by in person so they know our current address. I also picked up some groceries. I’ll put dinner on for you and Molly. If she’s hungry before you get home, she can eat with us and you can reheat your meal.”
Nate opened his mouth to tell her she didn’t have to cook for him—and shut it again. Damn, it would be good to walk in the door to a home-cooked meal. To know Molly would be taken care of if he ran late here at the office, although that was unlikely to happen today. He already itched to get home. So he said only, “Thank you. Josh didn’t have practice today?”
“No, they’re Mondays, Wednesdays and Fridays. Games Saturday.”
“That’s quite a schedule.”
“He loves it.” Her voice became quieter. “He was really mad at me when we thought we’d have to move before the end of the season.”
“When’s that?” Nate asked.
“November. Depending on the weather, those last games are miserable.”
They were conversing. Even though a beep told him he had a call coming in, he didn’t want to end this one.
“Rain and snow, huh?”
“Frozen feet and muddy kid,” she agreed. “Josh plays goalie a lot, and once the weather turns, there’s always a mud hole right in front of the goal.”
Nate grinned. “I played youth football when I wasn’t much older than Josh. Same season. I loved mud.”
She sighed. “So does he. I’ve learned to keep a ratty old towel in the car for him to sit on.”
Nate laughed, but after the conversation ended, he didn’t immediately check missed calls. Instead, he pondered why Molly hadn’t played any sports. Swim lessons in the summer, essential when she’d lived on the lake, and that was it. Did any of her friends play soccer? He wondered if she’d like to try it next year. To his recollection, she’d never participated in any after-school youth activities. And that got him to wondering whether Sonja had had her first glass of white wine a lot earlier in the day than he’d realized, and had developed a problem with booze a lot longer ago than he’d realized, too. With the hours he worked, she could have hidden too much from him.
He called the treatment center only to be politely rebuffed. The first days were always difficult. Patient information was kept confidential. The woman he spoke to wasn’t moved by his explanation that Sonja’s young daughter was scared for her.
Nate returned a few calls before thinking, To hell with it. This day was past resuscitation. He was ready to call it, start anew tomorrow.
CHAPTER SIX (#u26416ed5-13a2-5021-9a99-72c96c0505e0)
HAVING TURNED OFF the lights, he was letting himself out of his office when he came face-to-face with his partner, John Li. John had obviously been about to knock on his door. The two men had been friends since their freshmen year in college, when they’d been paired as roommates.
John had a file in his hand. Looking astonished, he said, “You’re leaving?”
With anyone else, Nate would have claimed to be meeting an investor for predinner drinks. Instead, he said, “Yeah. I told you I found a woman to be there when Molly gets home, and she did start today. But I’d like to make sure the arrangement is working. And, frankly, I’ve had so many distractions, I’m useless, anyway.”
“I understand,” his partner said. He probably did; he was married and had two kids. His wife was an orthopedic surgeon, and somehow they juggled responsibilities with astonishing success. That didn’t mean it was easy or that there weren’t days when their arrangements for the kids failed. “This—” he lifted the folder “—can wait until morning.”
Usually Nate wouldn’t have been able to walk away without knowing what this was, without turning and going back into his office. It was part of the drive that had taken K & L Ventures to the top of the pyramid. Right now, he said, “Thanks,” and continued on his way.
He did remember during the drive home why he didn’t usually cut and run at five o’clock. Traffic crawled. He sometimes used the express lanes, which at this time of day required drivers to pay a toll, but he couldn’t see that it helped all that much. Funny, though, that he looked forward to getting home, something he couldn’t recall feeling in a very long time.
It would be good to smell dinner cooking when he walked in the door, he told himself. And he wanted to hear how Molly’s day had gone. But Nate didn’t make a practice of lying to himself. And the truth was he liked knowing his house wasn’t empty, that somebody might anticipate his arrival.
He didn’t kid himself that Anna would be glad to see him beyond the fact that, with him home, she could retreat to the apartment. Still, if he was lucky they might have another real conversation, the kind not barbed with hostility.
Though he shouldn’t count on that.
* * *
ANNA WASN’T USED to having to take more than two or three steps from refrigerator to sink or anywhere else in her kitchen. This one was vast and so elegant and well equipped that a professional chef would be delighted. The pantry was as large as the entire kitchen in the house she’d just sold. Anna didn’t even know how to use all of the small appliances she found, and wasn’t 100 percent sure what some of them did.
Fortunately, the kids were happily occupied playing Xbox games. Josh had wanted either a Nintendo or Xbox gaming system for a long time and always came home hyper after having a chance to play with one at a friend’s house. He’d been gleeful when he spotted it in the family room.
Anna had heard snatches of some initial squabbling. Molly liked something called “Just Dance Kids.” Jenna had wanted that one, too. Josh said no way, creating a tempest. Left to themselves, they’d settled on “Lego Marvel Super Hero.” Anna had made herself unpopular by checking the rating. When she explored the pile of games, she didn’t see one that wasn’t rated Everyone, which allowed her to relax and return to the kitchen. Apparently, Nate didn’t have a secret addiction to “Call of Duty” or “Assassin’s Creed.”
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Janice Johnson
Тип: электронная книга
Жанр: Современные любовные романы
Язык: на английском языке
Издательство: HarperCollins
Дата публикации: 16.04.2024
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О книге: Forgiveness is a choice – love isn’tNate Hendrick’s and Anna Grainger’s lives were changed – and entwined – forever, in one terrifying instant. That’s all it took for Anna’s husband to die saving the life of Nate’s daughter. Battling heartache and guilt, Nate offers Anna the only consolation he can: a place for her family to stay while she figures things out.Neither expects the arrangement to be anything more than a convenience, but as their families come together, old wounds begin to heal and hearts mend. Nate knows they have a chance to salvage something beautiful from tragedy–if Anna can ever truly forgive him.