CHAPTER ELEVEN
“YES, WE DO!’
Mac stood behind the boy, nodding to Kit.
“There are a lot of people—police, friends, neighbors, family—out in this storm searching for you. Your mother and father are frantic.”
“Dad isn’t.”
“Of course he is, honey.” As Kit knelt in front of him, Mac told her he would be in the other room making the necessary calls.
“Have you talked to him?” Brock asked.
“No, but I know how I felt when Cord told me you’d disappeared, and you’re not even one of my relatives.”
He bit his lip. “You think Dad’s really upset?”
Her eyes smarted. “Upset’s not the word. Don’t you know that nothing in this life matters more than family?”
He bowed his head, dragging the toe of his sneaker along the floor. “Then how come Dad’s never home anymore?”
His question melted her heart. “Have you asked him?”
“I tried,” he said in a croaky voice. “I’m afraid he and Mom are going to get a divorce.”
Kit had no answer for this so she put her arms around him. “I’m sure your dad is terrific, like your Uncle Cord.”
“He used to be.”
She could feel his tears wet her shoulder, and she hugged him tighter. “How long were you planning to stay up there without letting anyone know?”
He sniffed. “For a long time. Uncle Cord keeps food and drinks in the fridge.”
“You found a great place to hide. But if I’d been the one in that attic when the storm hit, I would have screamed so loud, everyone in the mansion would have heard me. You were brave.”
After a lengthy silence he said, “I’m glad it was you who found me.”
“Mac gets the credit for that one. I thought you were an animal, and I was nervous to go up there. He thought you might be a raccoon. I must say you’re the biggest one I ever saw.”
A little smile came and went.
“Come on. Let’s go in the other room while we wait for your parents to get here.”
“Okay.”
“First, though, let’s grab a couple of sodas and some fruit. I don’t know about you, but I’m hungry.”
“Me, too.” A familiar male voice spoke behind them.
Kit pivoted around. “Cord!”
He was upon them so fast, she didn’t have time to blink. His arms clutched them both in a viselike grip.
“Whoa. Uncle Cord. I can’t breathe.” Brock made a sound between laughter and a yelp.
Any sound from Kit was muffled by Cord’s mouth, hungrily kissing hers.
“Brock?”
“Son?”
His parents’ voices coming from the living room propelled Brock out of their arms, forcing Cord to relinquish her lips. In the next instant Kit heard a man and a woman sobbing for joy. Their boy had been found.
Kit clung to Cord. “Can you believe he was hiding in your attic?”
“I can believe anything since you came into my life. When Mac got word to me through one of the officers that you’d returned to Salt Lake and were waiting for me at the cottage, I couldn’t get here fast enough.”
She looped her arms around his neck. “I’ve been living for this,” she admitted before kissing him again. But because there were people in the other room, she didn’t dare let her feelings get out of hand.
“When did you learn Brock was here?” she whispered against his lips.
“Mac met me in the foyer and told me what happened. I have to confess I planted myself in the kitchen doorway and listened to your conversation with Brock for a few minutes. You’re a natural with kids.”
“He’s a brokenhearted boy.”
“I know. The problems have been coming on for quite a while. I was planning to have a talk with my brother, but this experience has spoken more eloquently than anything I could have said.”
“It’s a wake-up call all right, but we’ve had a happy ending. At least for now,” she amended. “I’ve never been so happy as when I saw him coming down that ladder. How do you suppose he got in the cottage?”
“I have a few ideas, but we’ll ask him when the time is right.”
Someone picked that moment to shine a light into the kitchen. Kit recognized the dark blond man from the picture on the Internet.
“Excuse me for interrupting, but I understand you’re the woman my wife and I need to thank for finding Brock.”
Cord’s arm tightened around her shoulders. “Ben? This is Kit Burke from Venice Beach, California. Kit, this is my brother, Ben.”
Brock would look like his attractive father when he grew up. All the McFarlands were good-looking.
“I’ve been wanting to meet you, Mr. McFarland.”
He eyed Cord. “Hope you don’t mind, but I’d like to give this woman a hug.” The tremor in his voice betrayed his emotions.
When he reached for her, she hugged him back. “You have a wonderful boy.”
“A shattered one,” he replied after letting her go. “By now I doubt there are any secrets left where my family’s concerned. Come in the other room and meet Julie.”
The next few minutes were a blur as Kit was introduced to Brock’s mother, a lovely blond woman who still sounded congested. Both she and Maggie were sitting on the couch, with Brock between them. But after the introductions, she got up to hug Kit and thank her profusely for her help in finding their son.
“As I told Brock and Cord earlier, the honors go to Mac,” Kit declared.
Cord shook his head. “If you hadn’t told him you heard noises in the attic, Brock might have gotten away with it until I noticed all my food was missing.”
Laughter dispelled some of the tension. Though no physical tragedy had occurred, there were still a lot of psychological and emotional issues to deal with. It was none of Kit’s business, of course. She could only hope there’d be a happy resolution to their family problems instead of the divorce Brock dreaded.
“The storm has passed over,” Ben declared. “Let’s go home to Katy. With no lights and no TV, we’ll pretend we’re on a campout. What do you say?”
Kit didn’t have to see Brock’s face to know how his father’s suggestion sounded to him. She squeezed his shoulder. “Don’t let the raccoons bite.”
Her teasing produced a smile.
“Thanks again,” his mother said in a tear-filled voice.
There were more hugs and sniffs all the way around before Cord walked his brother’s family to the door.
Maggie remained with Kit. “I heard the power won’t be restored until some time tomorrow, but it hasn’t affected the south side of South Temple. You can stay at the condo with me and Cord tonight. Have you already unpacked?”
“Not yet. There hasn’t been time to think. I’ll get my suitcase. It’s in the bedroom.” She grabbed the flashlight. Maggie walked through the house with her.
Cord met them on their return to the foyer. Kit felt his gaze zero in on her.
“Where are you going?”
“I’ve asked her to be our guest at the penthouse,” Maggie explained. “It will make it more convenient for our meeting with Pat Simpson first thing in the morning.”
Kit swerved her head toward Maggie and lowered the suitcase to the floor. “Pat called for a meeting?”
“Since when?” Cord demanded.
“She left a message on my cell phone while I was out combing the neighborhood for Brock. When the police said he’d been found, I took a moment to return her call. Her news affects all of us. I’ve asked my receptionist to reschedule tomorrow’s appointments so we can use my office.”
“What’s going on, Maggie?”
Kit felt the ferocity of Cord’s tone in every bone of her body.
After a pause, she said, “I’ll tell you after we’re settled at the penthouse.”
Cord shook his head. “Kit and I have our own plans for tonight.”
“I know you do—” her voice cracked “—but you’re
going to have to change them.”
“Why?” Kit asked, reacting to those pricklings of fear working their way through her system.
Maggie put a hand on her arm as if to calm her ahead of time. “The man you’ve always thought was your father has been found.”
“What?”
“I’m incredulous myself. Nevertheless, it’s true, and certain things he told a federal agent this morning have opened up the possibility that you could be our sister.”
Kit felt as if she’d been shoved off a precipice into a dark void.
“The operative word here is could be,” Cord blurted. “I don’t give a damn what the man said. We’ve already decided Kit isn’t a relative, so she’s staying with me.”
“No, Cord.” Kit moved away from him. “Don’t say anything. Don’t come near me. I need to be alone tonight, to think.” She pulled out her cell phone. “I’m calling a taxi to take me to a motel.”
She should have known her joy couldn’t last.
“You’re not going anywhere.”
“Don’t make this harder than it is, Cord.” After giving the dispatcher the address, she clicked off the phone and found the courage to face him.
“Because of the way you and I feel about each other, all three of us wanted there to be an easy solution, so we refused to believe the possibility we could be related. But the knowledge that Frankie Burke has been found, that he’s said something to verify Mom’s confession, changes everything!”
Cord had that forbidding expression again. “You’re jumping to conclusions.”
“I’m not!” she insisted. “Since the night Mother died, I’ve been in denial. I haven’t wanted to believe she had any part in this horrible, ghastly crime. Maybe she didn’t, but the fact that she had knowledge of it has removed the blinders.
“Rena Harris, or whatever her real name might have been, was not my mother. She was a raging alcoholic who lied to me from day one. What kind of person who knew a kidnapping had taken place would hold back and not go to the police immediately?
“Yes, she raised me, and I loved her. But I should have been with my real mother and father. Think of the life she deprived me of. Brock and Katy could very well be my nephew and niece, Ben another brother.
“Rena robbed me of the chance to be loved by my own parents.” She stared at Cord and Maggie through wet eyes. “Our mother and father.”
“No, Kit,” he whispered in anguish.
She couldn’t take any more. “Maggie? I’ll be at your office at eight-thirty in the morning. With Pat Simpson’s help, I plan to confront that monster. I’ve hated him since the first time I remember hearing my mother cry her heart out over him.
“You know what really hurts? To realize all those tears were for him, not for me—an innocent baby she might have helped him to kidnap.” Kit pounded a fist against her heart. “How could she have done it to all of us and pretended to love God? No wonder she was worried about gaining forgiveness in the next life.
“When I think of the enormity of it—the anguish we’ve all suffered either because of her cowardice or her participation in the crime itself! Frankie Burke’s too vile a creature to even be discussed, yet she was willing to do the most terrible thing for him a person could do. Wherever the truth lies, to have knowledge of a cold-blooded abduction and do nothing about it is as bad as perpetrating one. I can’t bear it. I can’t!”
She reached blindly for her suitcase and opened the door.
“Kit…”
Cord was in pain, but she was so filled with pain herself, she could do nothing to relieve it. She ran along the drive to South Temple, where she’d told the taxi to pick her up.
Thank goodness it was waiting for her, otherwise she might have collapsed in great heaving sobs at the curb instead of in the back seat of the car.
CORD FELT MAGGIE LEAN against him as they stood in the darkness of the cottage foyer. Like most violent summer storms that swept in from the lake, once it had unleashed its fury, it moved on east over the mountains.
But instead of the quiet that always followed, Kit’s wounded cries seemed to reverberate in the atmosphere, crucifying him.
All his life there’d been this faint glimmer of hope that one day their family would find Kathryn alive and well. Renaissance House existed because of a tiny kernel of faith that their parents’ baby daughter would somehow find her way home.
He’d grown up believing that if such a miracle occurred, it would solve every problem. There would be no more shadows. Each member of the McFarland family would feel complete. They would heal. They would experience true happiness.
Never on any level, conscious or subconscious, could he have imagined that his soul mate and sister would turn out to be one in the same beautiful woman. What if he wasn’t able to touch her and love her for the rest of their lives? It simply couldn’t be….
An ache passed through his body, so searing he was overwhelmed by it. Tears stung his eyes. He needed to do something or he was going to go insane.
“I’m in pain, too,” his sister whispered.
“Maggie.” He put his arms around her and hugged her for a long time. “Until now, none of this has been real to me.”
“I know. I feel the same way.”
He tried to swallow. “I still don’t see it or feel it, but what if she is Kathryn?”
“I’ve been asking myself that same question. All these years I’ve yearned for a sister.”
Cord finally removed his arms. “I wish I could let go of my desire for her long enough to remember how much I’ve yearned for this day. I can’t even imagine what it will mean to Mom and Dad. They’ve suffered so much.”
Maggie nodded. “Kit’s so perfect, so terrific. They just won’t believe their little baby has grown up into such a beautiful, intelligent woman. My heart is broken for her, Cord. I know how conflicted I feel by everything. But she’s the one torn in all directions because she loves you.”
“I love her. If she is our sister, though I don’t believe it, then the question remains whether I can sacrifice my own joy to see Mom and Dad truly happy.”
“We’ve never known our parents in that condition, have we,” Maggie murmured.
“No. If ever two people deserved to experience pure joy, they do. What I’ve got to do right now is be by myself for a while. To think.”
“I understand. But if you change your mind, I’m just a phone call away.”
“I love you, Maggie. You’ve always been so strong I’m in awe of you.”
“The feeling’s mutual. I love you.”
She kissed his cheek before hurrying out to her car. He made certain she got off safely before he headed for his Land Rover and started driving.
The next couple of hours were a blur. It wasn’t until his fuel light went on that he realized his car was running on fumes. When he looked around, he discovered himself out by the salt flats of the west desert. The dreary moonscape echoed the bleakness inside his soul.
His bleary gaze fell on the clock on the dashboard. It was quarter to four in the morning. Before long the sun would be up.
Cord had the choice of using the extra can of gas he always carried with him to push deeper into the desert, or he could turn around and go back to face Kit in Maggie’s office. If he chose the latter, he would have to sit in the conference room and pretend to be a civilized man while the FBI agent ticked off her findings.
This wasn’t the way the play was supposed to read.
Hours ago Brock had been found. With the crisis solved, Cord had seen his family to the door, impatient and eager to get Kit alone in his arms. He’d loved the idea that the power had gone out. They’d have the whole night together with no lights, no noise. Just each other.
Somehow he’d forgotten about Maggie, who’d lingered uncharacteristically after the others had left.
With the relief of knowing Brock was safe, Cord would have expected her to go home and crash. Her lack of jubilance should have alerted him that something was se
riously wrong, but he hadn’t wanted it to be.
He remembered Kit’s radiant features while she’d been hugging Brock. But all expression had been wiped from her face after Maggie suggested the three of them spend the night at the penthouse.
For the first time in their lives, Cord had been tempted to tell his sister to mind her own business. Then came the news about the feds finding Frankie Burke. Agent Simpson had called a meeting in Maggie’s office for a few hours from now. All because Kit could be their flesh and blood, his worst nightmare come true.
But not for his parents. And not for Kit, who, when she got past her initial pain, couldn’t help but look forward to a reunion with her birth parents.
Cord still refused to believe his mother had given birth to Kit, not without comparing their DNA results for definitive proof. But he had to accept the fact it was possible.
SEVERAL HOURS LATER he entered the estate through the back entrance and pulled up in front of the cottage. Last night’s storm had done a lot of damage. He saw broken tree limbs and debris strewn across the lawn and flower beds. Dwayne had his work cut out for him.
Lucky Dwayne.
Cord would give all he possessed to turn back the clock to yesterday morning, when he’d awakened knowing Kit was waiting for him at the beach. The plans he had for them. The dreams…
His body felt like a thousand-pound weight as he levered himself from the car and let himself into the house. It was time to get out of clothes he’d been wearing for almost twenty-four hours. Yesterday he’d acted on Kit’s suggestion and driven to Brighton to look for Brock. It had been as good a place as any to start a search for his nephew. After hiking up to the old fire lookout in the rain, he’d needed a shower and shave. And rest.
But much as his body required sleep, there was no way he was going to get it, even if he didn’t have a deadline to meet. Adrenaline had kept him awake all night and the thought of seeing Kit in a little while only gave him more energy.
After a quick bite to eat, he dressed in a suit, not questioning why he chose it over a sport shirt and jeans. When he checked in at his office to do a little work, Gwen commented on his attire.
“You look very formal for this early in the morning.”
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