The Water Baby

by Roz Denny Fox

  Daisy didn’t think she was the only frustrated one here, and she saw right through his ploy. He, too, exhibited all the signs of someone rattled by a kiss But since she wasn’t prepared to deal with her own part in those kisses, she let it go.

  “Leasing my boat was hard. And showing you the Sloan collection just now brought back sad memories. All this stuff belonged to my dad. I haven’t kept it up like I should’ve since he died.”

  “When was that?” Temple asked politely. Any second now, he planned to bolt. He edged toward the door.

  Daisy edged in the same direction. “Dad was diagnosed six years ago with arteriosclerotic heart disease. He went downhill fast after he quit shrimping. About five months ago, he just gave up. The hardest part was watching him change. His memory got so bad everyone thought he had Alzheimer’s. At one time he was the best shrimper in the fleet. The one everyone went to for advice. But toward the end it was as if I was the parent and he was the child.”

  Temple stopped short of the door. “Five months ago? Why, you’ve hardly finished grieving. I remember how long it took when I lost my dad.”

  “Except that you had no warning. I saw this coming. I should’ve been able to steel myself.”

  “I don’t know about that. But at least you have siblings to share your sorrow. I imagine they’ve been a comfort.”

  She halted at her desk, picked up Rebecca’s journal and clutched it to her breast. “My sisters are…well, I wouldn’t want to call them selfish, but…”

  Daisy dropped into the chair and opened the book. When she spoke again, her voice held a little catch. “Violet and Jasmine thought I should sell the house and boat and put Dad in a nursing home. I imagine our mother planted that idea.” A slight frown marred her brow. “At any rate, none of them were able to get away for the funeral.”

  “They made you go through your father’s funeral alone?” Temple couldn’t think when he’d been angrier at people he didn’t even know. She shrugged and waved a hand as if to dispel his concern, or, Temple thought, to indicate that this behavior of theirs was nothing new.

  Temple swore to himself then and there that none of her poor excuses for relatives had better show up while he was living in this house. He wouldn’t be responsible for what he might say. “After all you went through with your dad, I’m surprised you saddled yourself with Rebecca. Oh, don’t misunderstand—I’m sincerely grateful you did.”

  She shrugged. “I’m not sure you’ll believe this, but my decision came about in the blink of an eye. At first I was terribly claustrophobic staying in that hospital room day after day. It’s easier now that I’m home. Although I can’t say that I’ll ever like being cooped up.”

  “Nor me. So why not take Rebecca out more? Let her soak up some sun?”

  “How do you think she’ll react to seeing the ocean? So many of Galveston’s main attractions have to do with the sea. We’re surrounded by water, in case you haven’t noticed.”

  “You’ve got a point,” he said quietly. “Tomorrow I’ll ask the doctor his opinion. Better yet, why don’t you come with me?”

  “I don’t want to intrude.”

  “You wouldn’t be. If he gives a green light, maybe we can do something fun with Rebecca on the way home.”

  “She might enjoy the Railroad Museum. They have a neat excursion train,” Daisy told him, warming to the idea.

  “But that’s not really getting her out to soak up the sun.”

  “True. Maybe we can do the museum first, then go to the beach. You know,” Daisy said wistfully, “when I was her age, I spent endless hours combing the beach for seashells. That, or building sand castles Have you heard about our annual sand-castle contest? People flock here in droves. It’s a pretty big deal.”

  “Really? I got roped into a sand-castle contest once in Jamaica. Strictly amateur, of course. But our resort staff took first prize. I haven’t done anything that silly in years.”

  “It’s not silly, and I’m impressed.” Daisy recapped her pen and leaned back in her chair She’d finally managed to hide all lingering effects of the kisses they’d shared. She might bring them out to savor later when she was alone. For now, though, she appreciated his business-asusual attitude. “Folks who enter our sand-castle contest sometimes bring their own architects.”

  “No lie?”

  “No lie. Why are you always suspicious of everything I say?”

  Temple shrugged “I don’t know where your contest’s usually held, but today, while I was out, I saw the perfect place. At the east end of the seawall. Somebody’s hauled in tones of fresh sand.”

  Daisy hooted. “That’s our new six-million-dollar restoration project you’re recommending we tear up to build sand castles. Listen, bud, that strip of sand is what’ll make your resort worth a fortune. Buy your land fast, ‘cause the city manager predicts our new beach will draw a half-million more summer tourists when it’s done.”

  “Ah. I see now why the old boys I dickered with today were so firm on their price. They were plenty closed-mouthed, too.” Temple pulled a small calculator from his shirt pocket and fed a series of figures into it. “Hmm,” he said a moment later. “It might be worth the price they’re asking at that.”

  Well, he had been busy today. Even busier than she’d realized. Daisy’s heart beat faster at the thought of having Temple stay in Galveston. But would he? Or once his place was built, would he move on to new pastures?

  If Temple saw Daisy’s sudden frown, he didn’t comment. He ran through a second set of figures. “Do you think your old wiring will hold up for me to use my computer and fax machine tonight?”

  Her frown deepened. “You’re treading on thin ice bringing up that subject. Sorry, I’m afraid you’ll have to do without your toys until Jeb’s finished.”

  “That may take weeks. I need to get a prospectus worked up for my bank if I intend to make an offer on that property tomorrow.”

  “That soon?” Daisy sat straighter. She battled to keep her heartbeat from escalating. “I thought maybe you were joking.”

  “I never joke about the acquisition of land. I could kick myself that Wyatt Resorts has overlooked such a plum—and one so close to home. Am I missing some obvious pitfall?”

  “Hurricanes.” Daisy said it tongue in cheek, but it was true. “Living on the island is a gamble,” she told him in all honesty.

  Temple tucked the calculator back in his pocket. “Living anywhere is a gamble. And don’t you get advance warning? Time to clear the beaches and shutter down?”

  “I guess.” Her reply sounded lackluster even to herself. “As with your quakes, we have doomsayers who sit around predicting the next one will wipe us out.”

  “Are you by chance trying to scare me off?”

  Was that what she was doing? She should encourage him to spend Wyatt Resort money in Galveston. Perhaps her reluctance had to do with the recent kiss that had weakened her knees. If he owned a resort here, he might pop into town with less warning than a hurricane. And the result might be more devastating. What if he got the idea, from the way she’d poured her heart and soul into kissing him, that she’d be available any old time?

  All at once, Daisy knew that Temple Wyatt could make her the topic of breakfast conversation all over the Island The realization was a total shock.

  Temple snapped his fingers in front of her eyes. “I can see this is no time to be discussing resorts and hurricanes. You’re all but asleep on your feet. I’ll leave and let you get ready for bed.”

  Daisy flushed How could she have let her mind wander so far astray? “Oh,” she began, relieved to change the subject to something practical. “I do have another question. Do you have time to answer?”

  “Ask away. I’m not the one who’s zoned out.”

  “Yes, well…” She cleared her throat. “It’s about Becca’s shorts. Or I should say her lack thereof. If Dr. Rankin says she can go to the beach, she’ll either have to be awfully careful or ruin her pretty dresses.”

&nb
sp; “That’s easy. Feel free to whack off her jeans.”

  “What jeans?”

  “I assumed Maddy packed play clothes, as well.”

  “I don’t know who Maddy is, but there’s nothing in that suitcase I’d class as play clothes.” Daisy pointed to the leather case that still sat open on her bed.

  “Maddy’s my housekeeper, but she’s like family. She takes care of Rebecca when I’m away on trips.” Temple covered the distance from the door to the bed in three strides. He sifted through the items in the suitcase, then straightened and rifled a hand through his hair. “I’m sorry. This looks suspiciously like my mother’s doing. She came over the minute I told her I’d seen Rebecca on TV.”

  “You mean she thought Rebecca was performing and needed fancy dresses?”

  Temple laughed “No, but didn’t I tell you my mother exchanged her love beads for a platinum credit card? I made the mistake of letting her take Rebecca shopping for school clothes. Mom spent two thousand dollars so fast it would make Cinderella’s fairy godmother faint. The result is all these unwearable dresses with matching doodads. I never had the heart to tell her that I took Rebecca out the next day and bought her six pairs of jeans and sweatshirts.”

  Daisy’s lips twitched. “You didn’t have the heart or the guts? Are you afraid of your mother, Wyatt?”

  “Certainly not! I intended to have her return everything. Then Miranda took off with Rebecca. Things changed—”

  “Don’t,” Daisy interrupted. “It doesn’t matter. I know every discount store in town. You’ll be able to pick up a few cheap shorts and T-shirts.”

  Temple bristled. “I’m not insinuating I need to skimp. I can afford to dress my daughter well.”

  “Excu-use me.” Daisy drew back, feeling as if she’d been well and truly put in her place. Her anger simmered. “For a minute there, I forgot I was dealing with the Temple Wyatt of Wyatt Resorts.”

  “I didn’t mean…” Temple strode back to her. When he drew close enough to see the shimmer of hurt in her eyes, he also felt the unmistakable urge to take her in his arms again. One small part of his brain kept insisting that would be a bad move. Taking her into his arms would lead to kissing, and kissing very likely wouldn’t be enough. Instead of touching her, Temple swore soundly and stalked past her, right on out of the room.

  He didn’t let the door slam, but he might as well have. The soft click of the latch set Daisy’s teeth on edge. For a minute, she could have sworn he’d intended to kiss her again. How could her thinking run so badly amok every time she got within spitting distance of that man?

  Spitting mad. That was what she should be. At him and at herself for acting like a foolish teen. Daisy returned to her desk where she logged into Becca’s journal every last thing she could remember about the girl’s day.

  Considering the scowl on Temple’s face when he’d left just now, Daisy supposed he’d retract his offer to go with him to see Dr. Rankin tomorrow. And to do something “fun” afterward.

  Which was fine by her. Temple Wyatt’s idea of fun would probably cost more than she could afford. That was assuming they even agreed on what was fun. He said building sand castles was silly. Fun to him was probably sitting stiffly in a five-star restaurant, being served flaming steak by waiters dressed up like penguins.

  Daisy pursed her lips and closed the journal with a snap. She put a rubber band around it and set it aside to give Temple in the morning. On second thought, she’d take it to him now. That way there’d be no reason for him to come to her room. She grabbed it up and marched to her bedroom door. She’d just eased it open when she heard his machines humming. Copy machine, fax or computer? Before she could figure it out, his door opened and she saw him carting something down the hall.

  Daisy drew back. Was he heading for bed? There was no way she was taking this journal to him in his bedroom. Opening the door wider, she saw that he’d passed his room and was headed for the bath.

  Ah. He was carrying towels.

  Good Lord! Daisy closed her eyes and drew in a sharp breath. This morning, after Becca’s bath, Daisy had rinsed out some underwear. She’d draped the items over the towel bar and the shower stall to dry, and had completely forgotten them.

  Neatnick that Temple was… Yes, Daisy heard him cursing. She tiptoed down the hall, going over in her mind what she’d say. But as luck would have it, halfway there she stepped on Troublemaker’s tail. He let out a yowl. Darn cat. What was he doing in the middle of the hall?

  Temple flung open the bathroom door, clutching a collection of her panties and bras.

  “Oops.” Daisy’s face flamed as she dashed up and snatched them out of his hands. “Sorry.” And she was. This was a frivolous side of her she somehow didn’t want him to know about—or to judge.

  “Nothing I haven’t seen before.” He gestured toward the bath. “It’s the mess I’d like to discuss. Shampoo and conditioner spilled. The bottles uncapped. Damp towels strewn around and powder everywhere. And there’s no room in the cabinet for my shaving gear. What is all this stuff?” He pointed at a row of shelves overflowing with first-aid supplies. “It looks like a bloody pharmacy.”

  Daisy wadded her undies into a ball. “I told you all my previous boarders were medical students. Each had his own idea of what belonged in a medicine cabinet. But they mostly showered at the hospital, I think.”

  Temple crossed his arms. “I shower daily and I plan to do it here. If we’re each responsible for cleaning up our own mess, I think it’ll work, don’t you?”

  “Don’t get sanctimonious with me,” Daisy snapped. “Half of those towels are from your daughter kicking water out of the tub. As are the drying undies, because she soaked me and my last clean set. No doubt Maddy would send hers out to be laundered,” she said, as she shoved the journal into his hands and turned to leave. “This is my house, Wyatt, and I’ll be as messy as I want.” Chin angled, she took three steps and landed hard on the cat’s tall again. This time Troublemaker’s yowl was accompanied by a spit and a hiss, and was promptly joined by Temple’s low laughter.

  “Maddy’s a dear lady,” he called, “and a crackerjack housekeeper. But somehow I have a hard time picturing her wearing those hot-pink flowered bikinis you just dropped. She’s sixty-five if she’s a day.”

  Bending, Daisy scooped up the bit of brightly colored nylon and her cat, all without breaking stride. She hoped her face wasn’t the same brilliant shade of pink as the panties, but she was afraid it was. But that wasn’t enough to keep her from smiling the minute she was safe behind her door. Let him spend the night organizing her bathroom. In the space of a few minutes, she had gleaned the answers to at least two of her questions. Temple Wyatt wasn’t as immune to her as he wanted to be—and his housekeeper in California was just that. His housekeeper.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  DAYLIGHT HAD barely struggled into the sky when two panel trucks filled with workmen arrived at Daisy’s home and awakened half the neighborhood. Including Temple, who’d been up until four in the morning working on his proposal for the bank. He already had one leg in yesterday’s crumpled jeans when Daisy banged on his bedroom door and yelled, “Rise and shine, Wyatt!”

  Hobbling to the door as he yanked the jeans over his hips, Temple almost broke his toe on a box of medical supplies he’d hauled out of the bathroom the night before. He only caught a glimpse of Daisy and Rebecca before they disappeared down the stairs.

  “What the hell time is it?” he called, moving to the top of the stairs.

  “Coffee time,” she called back over a shoulder that was bare except for the thin strap of a lemon yellow sundress. This was the first time he’d seen her in a dress. He nearly swallowed his teeth.

  Pausing, she said, “By the way, Mr. Clean, the bathroom looks great. You, however, look worse than something Troublemaker might drag in. Tsk-tsk. You’ve got ten minutes to shave before Jeb’s crew shuts off the electricity “

  “Shuts off the…” Temple grabbed the handrail and ran ba
refoot down the stairs after her. “No. I worked all night on a document I need to fax to my banker in California.”

  As he closed in on her, Daisy shifted Becca to the opposite hip. A mistake. It put her face-to-face with Temple’s bare suntanned chest. Lowering her gaze proved an even bigger error. His jeans, carelessly donned, were unbuttoned.

  Daisy revised her earlier assessment. Troublemaker had never dragged in anything remotely resembling this. If he had, she’d be buying that darned cat choice cuts of steak. Wyatt’s all-too-exposed flesh left her with ideas that had nothing to do with pouring coffee for Jeb’s crew.

  Temple had suddenly stopped talking about faxing his documents. His gaze focused on his daughter. “Daisy, look,” he exclaimed in a low delighted voice. “Rebecca isn’t leaping out of your arms to get away from me today.”

  Daisy glanced away from Temple’s smooth muscles long enough to realize that what he said was true. His daughter eyed him warily, but she didn’t fight to get away as she’d done before. “What do you suppose it means?” Daisy asked quietly.

  Temple’s smile lit his entire face. “I’m no doctor, but speaking as her father—it’s fantastic! Give me a minute to shave and dress, and I’ll come fix strawberry crepes for breakfast. She always loved crepes. I keep thinking it’ll only take one small familiar thing to trigger her memory. Who knows? It might be as simple as breakfast.”

  Daisy found the excitement in his eyes contagious, even though she knew that the minute a breakthrough occurred, both Wyatts would be gone. Just when she’d grown used to having them around. Not only used to it, but if she was honest, she’d admit she enjoyed having them around. And she was nothing if not honest.

  “You mean you want me to tell Jeb’s crew to get lost for an hour or so? Rather costly, isn’t it?”