Dr. Rankin shook his head. “I have to be honest. I just don’t know. My experience tells me that even if the ocean causes her a painful flashback, it may also trigger some part of her ability to remember. Frankly I’m glad to see you two attacking this problem together. Everything we’ve learned about children in shock tells us they need a sense of normalcy. A certain tranquillity, if you will, especially in the adults around them. Sometimes it’s hard to achieve, since the parents are also upset.”
“How much will she remember about her mother and… her mother’s friend?”
“Time will tell,” the doctor said. “You two may be in for some rough storms. I hope you’re both willing to ride them out.” He answered Daisy’s question, but it was to Temple he looked.
“My daughter is my first priority, Doctor. I’ve placed a bid on some resort property here, but I can be as involved or uninvolved as Rebecca’s situation dictates.”
Dr. Rankin closed the journal and got to his feet. “Good, good. That’s what I wanted to hear. Let me get this copied, and then you three go enjoy the sun. Remember, I’m available by phone anytime. With luck, we’ll see this little lady back on track before school starts.”
“I never thought… Will she retain what she’s learned?”
“You want answers I can’t give. She may or may not have gaps in her past. I’ll be just a minute with this.”
Once the doctor left the room, Temple stood and began to pace restlessly. Daisy pulled Straylia out of a large jute bag she’d brought. “Aren’t you pleased?” she asked Temple. “I thought Dr. Rankin was encouraging.”
“Unless you consider that he’s guessing about everything.”
“Educated guesses,” she said doggedly.
He stopped pacing and tugged affectionately on her ponytail. “Remind me to make sure you’re always in my corner, Daisy.”
Her heart tripped. “Always” had a nice ring. But she was probably reading way too much into an innocent remark. Thank goodness Dr. Rankin whisked back in and dispersed the images that had begun to crowd her mind. Images of the Wyatts bringing love and laughter back to Sloan house… Yet those images lingered even after the doctor handed Temple the journal, even after they said their goodbyes and left the building.
“Where to now?” Temple asked Daisy, watching his daughter unwrap a piece of gum Dr. Rankin had given her. It amazed him that she knew some things instinctively, yet didn’t know him.
“To the Strand to get Becca’s shorts. From there we can take a trolley to the Railroad Museum and ride the train back. If that goes well, we can try the beach. I know a private spot where there shouldn’t be a lot of other kids to bother Rebecca.”
Temple’s steps slowed. “She used to love being with other kids….”
“And she will again,” Daisy said fiercely.
Temple held Daisy’s determined gaze captive for a long moment. “In that case, fair lady, I’m putting us totally in your hands.”
Daisy felt a sudden need to lighten the mood. “Are you sure you want to give me all that power? I may take you out to the pier and make you walk the plank.”
“Not bloody likely. I saw Hook five times. I know all the escape routes.”
Daisy laughed, then reached down and tickled the little girl, who seemed to have perked up now they’d left the hospital. Becca giggled out loud in the first genuine laugh Daisy recalled having heard from the child. Did she remember the movie? Daisy wondered.
As the three of them climbed into the car, Temple sensed that Rebecca’s giggle was another milestone. He rolled down his window and let the morning’s tension blow away on the breeze.
This was a treat. He’d rarely taken time off work before his divorce, and none since. They were halfway through their tour of the museum when it occurred to Temple that he and Rebecca should have done more of this sort of thing. And now they couldn’t. At least not without Daisy. Thing was—did he want to go without Daisy? He found watching those two cavort in the cab of an old steam engine delightful. Pleasure was another feeling he hadn’t experienced in far too long.
At the working model train, it was Daisy’s turn to stand back and observe. What was there about trains that turned grown men into boys? she wondered wryly when it proved impossible to shake Temple loose. Seconds later she was glad she’d failed. Becca ventured close to her dad and clapped when he blew the train’s whistle. The two of them huddled together at the end of a long tunnel. It left a choked feeling in Daisy’s throat, seeing those two blond heads so close to each other. His hair streaked by the sun, hers downy as new cotton. Both waiting impatiently for the locomotive to emerge.
Daisy finally wrested them away, only to have them walk her legs off going from display to display. Rebecca fell asleep before they were fifteen minutes into the real train ride that makes a circle tour of Galveston. She’d started out seated on Daisy’s lap, her little nose pressed to the window, but soon her eyes drooped and she slid down, her bright curls cradled on Temple’s thigh.
“Leave her,” he whispered softly when Daisy tried to move her.
Smiling, she sat back. It wasn’t long before Daisy decided the other passengers probably took them for a vacationing family. And she felt guilty. Was that because she knew it was a lie? Or because her own family had never done things like this together. Looking back, Daisy realized she’d thought the way they lived was normal. After today, she knew she’d never marry a man who didn’t share things like vacations or outings with his family. Things like chores and child care. Of the men she knew well, that narrowed the field to the one seated beside her.
“You’re quiet,” Temple murmured, reaching over his sleeping child to tweak Daisy’s nose. “Why the frown? Aren’t you enjoying yourself?”
“Very much,” she said, covering a guilty flush with a yawn. “There’s something hypnotic about the clackityclack of train wheels. I’m doing my best not to saddle you with two sleeping bodies.”
“That would be a problem if I had to carry you both back to the car,” he teased. “To keep awake, why don’t you play tour guide—tell me about the landscape and the buildings. Who better than a member of Galveston’s historical society?”
Daisy did such a good job she drew an audience. One by one the other sightseers drew nearer, until she was ringed by a cluster of interested listeners.
Temple sat and stroked Rebecca’s hair. He enjoyed watching Daisy’s animated features almost more than he did learning about Galveston. When the train sped past the waterfront and they were assaulted by the fishy odor hanging over the home of the Mosquito Fleet, Temple found himself speculating as to whether she really liked being a shrimper or if she’d fallen into it because she had idolized her father.
If he hadn’t been so hungry, Temple would’ve suggested they go around again. Luckily he managed to carry Rebecca to the car and get her buckled in before she woke up disoriented. He felt helpless when she began to scream. But Daisy climbed into the back seat and calmed her, and Temple, not for the first time, thanked providence for creating such a strong bond between those two.
“What do you think?” Daisy asked anxiously. “Should we skip the beach? This little kiddo’s had a pretty full day already.”
“Let’s play it by ear. We’ll eat, stretch our legs and soak up a little sun. If she seems distressed, we’ll leave.”
“Good. That’s what I hoped you’d say,” Daisy told him. “But…I’ve been looking forward to building sand castles.”
“Uh-huh,” he grunted. Strangely, though, the idea did hold some appeal.
Daisy directed him to a sheltered strip of sand adjacent to a public park. The park was busy, and by comparison the beach seemed deserted. But the sand was white and fine; thanks to a small trickle from an inlet, it was also damp enough to pack.
“Nice. Not too windy,” Temple noted as Daisy gathered up a bucket of oddly-shaped containers, then handed him the picnic basket and a blanket.
“That’s another thing I like about this beach,�
�� Daisy said. “You know what? I’m starved.”
His stomach growled in answer, and they laughed. It didn’t take them long to set out and devour the food Daisy had fixed. The problem, as they packed up the remains, was keeping a rein on Rebecca. She’d tugged off her shoes and socks to run in the sand. Leaving Temple to clean up, Daisy dashed off after the girl.
Temple liked listening to his daughter’s squeals as Daisy tried to interest her in the bright seashells, rather than running and throwing sand. Both were out of breath and flushed by the time they sauntered back to the blanket to show him their treasures.
“Hey, take it easy,” he admonished playfully when Daisy accidentally kicked sand over his socks and shoes.
“Take them off and roll up your pant legs,” she instructed, dropping to her knees beside him. “In another month, you’ll die out here in long pants. You should’ve bought yourself some shorts at the Strand today, too.”
“I have shorts. But I wouldn’t have tromped through the hospital in them.”
“Really? Well, then, isn’t it fortunate that I saw fit to wear a dress to avoid embarrassing you?” Snatching up the buckets and sifters, she tossed her head and marched toward the inlet.
Rebecca followed, imitating Daisy’s flounce so precisely that Temple wanted to laugh. He felt guilty, however, for throwing a damper on the day. After stashing the shells in the picnic basket for safekeeping, he did remove his shoes and socks, rolled up his pant legs and ran after them to make amends.
By then, Daisy had laid the foundation for a very basic castle. Temple hovered over her. “Look, Daisy, I didn’t mean that as a dig, at you.” He gave a rueful laugh. “You’d understand if you’d seen my shorts. They’re old as Noah and twice as holy. I only brought one pair. If you recall, this wasn’t intended to be a vacation. I thought I’d be home by now.”
His words wounded her—especially the words that suggested he’d rather be home—but she wasn’t good at staying mad. “Okay, you’re forgiven,” she said, handing him a shovel. “I guess you can play with me.”
His gaze skipped over her bare feet, swirling skirt and beyond, to her wind-mussed ponytail, then back to her sparkling eyes. His heart started a dull thudding in his chest. He wanted to take her in his arms and kiss her—to sink down on the warm sand with her and make slow delicious love. He took the shovel and grabbed a bucket to keep his hands occupied, realizing belatedly how unsteady they were.
Many things prevented Temple from acting on his desires. Daylight. The park. His daughter, who peered out from behind Daisy’s legs apprehensively. And his conscience. This lady was doing him a colossal favor—she’d turned her life inside out for him. Seducing her wasn’t the way to repay a debt. Temple abruptly set down the bucket. Turning his back on her, he said gruffly, “You’re building that damned thing too close to the inlet. When the tide comes in, all your hard work will be swept out to sea.”
“Spoilsport,” she called, watching him stalk back to the blanket. Daisy could’ve sworn he’d really wanted to help. That he’d seemed eager. Vaguely disappointed, she wondered what kept Temple Wyatt from letting down his hair. Whatever it was, she wasn’t going to allow him to ruin Rebecca’s fun. For the next three hours, she hauled wet sand and made elaborate peaks and turrets. When one wall collapsed and Becca cried, Daisy hugged her and patiently explained that rebuilding was part of the fun.
Temple sat on the blanket, idly sifting handfuls of sand through fingers that itched to cuddle them both. He thought how motherly Daisy looked, consoling his daughter, drawing her into a game about water babies. Moodily, he reflected on Rebecca’s mother. What in hell had she been doing in that place they called Rum Row? Anger warred with sorrow as Temple jumped to his feet. “It’s getting late,” he called. “Nearly dusk. We’d better go.”
“Come see.” Daisy beckoned him with a sand-caked hand. Of course, their finished castle was no work of art, but Daisy and Becca thought it was wonderful.
Temple voiced the expected words of admiration.
Daisy thought his delivery lacked the proper enthusiasm and told him so. He snapped back an irritated response. As a result, the three rode home in silence. The sun had set by the time they reached the house. Jeb’s crew had gone, but they’d left behind a mess and had shut off the electricity to boot.
“Blast,” Daisy said. “We’ll have to dig out the lanterns.”
“Does this mean cold food and a cold shower?” Temple grumbled.
Daisy grinned. “Welcome to Galveston, matey. This is how it is during a hurricane when the storm knocks out our transformers.”
“What do you do without electricity?”
“Party hearty, my friend. Party hearty.”
Temple couldn’t muster a smile to save his life. Watching her play at the beach all afternoon had been pure torture. The kind of party he envisioned probably wasn’t what she had in mind.
That cold shower was sounding better all the time.
CHAPTER NINE
“YOU DON’T PARTY. You don’t play on the beach.” Daisy couldn’t believe she’d fallen so hard for this man. A man more suited to her sisters’ image of Mr. Right than hers. “What do you do for fun, Wyatt?” she asked him.
He refused to be provoked. “Here. Let me carry Rebecca upstairs. Looks like we wore her out. But I think she had a good time today, don’t you?”
Daisy heard the thread of underlying doubt in his voice as she took a flashlight from the hall cabinet and led the way upstairs. “It was obvious you were bored senseless,” she said. “Becca and I had a great time.”
Temple stopped cold. “Why do you do that? Put words in my mouth? I enjoyed myself today.”
“You sulked the whole time we were at the beach.”
“I did not. Men do not sulk. Where’s Rebecca’s nightgown?” he demanded, stomping past Daisy into the moon-shadowed bedroom Not surprisingly, he smacked a shin into her desk and swore. Rebecca shifted in his arms but didn’t wake up.
“Stop already, before you kill yourself. I’ll change her. Here, take the flashlight and go get the lanterns. You’ll find a couple in each bedroom closet and more on the top shelf of the kitchen pantry.”
“No, I’ll put her down first, if you’ll hold the light.”
Carefully he made his way into the alcove and placed Rebecca on her bed. “You can’t mean to use lanterns every night until they finish the wiring. The foreman said it’d take three or four days. Do you really light those things all over the house during a bad storm? What would you do if they caused a fire? You don’t even own a cell phone.”
“Amazing, isn’t it? I can’t imagine how we’ve lived all these years.”
“It’s so primitive. Don’t you know this is the age of fiber optics and the information highway?”
“Well, Mr. Electronic-Gadget Expert, what would you have us do for light?”
“Go to a hotel.”
Daisy laughed. “I beg your pardon?”
“You heard me. I think we should check into a hotel until Jeb’s finished. The one where I stayed when I arrived on the island has some nice suites. My attorneys and I had three bedrooms with a living room in the middle. All we’d need are clothes for each of us for a few days. Oh, and my portable computer and the small fax.”
“I hope the three of you will be very comfortable,” she drawled. “Me, I’ve lived in this town forever. Can’t you hear the buzz if I checked into a hotel with a man? We may not be on your information highway, but gossip here travels with the speed of light.”
He looked puzzled as she gently covered Rebecca with the thin blanket and motioned him out. “I guess I don’t see the problem,” he persisted. “How’s staying at the hotel any different from my renting a couple of your rooms?”
“It just is,” she maintained stubbornly. “People know this is strictly business. Neighbors, and friends like Daniel and Sal, have seen your room. In a hotel, well, they’d speculate.”
Temple ran two fingers along her chin. “You t
hink Daniel and Sal don’t already speculate?”
The flashlight Daisy held bobbed erratically. The pupils of her eyes widened, crowding out the color.
Temple heard her breath rasp as she drew it in. He stepped closer and slid both hands around to the back of her head and up, loosening the clip that held her ponytail. A thicket of curls, suddenly freed, brushed his wrists and tumbled over her ears.
“Temple…” she whispered.
“Temple, what? Hold my seashells? Play in my sand castle? We aren’t kids, Daisy. Do you have any idea what I wanted to do with you this whole blasted afternoon?”
She lowered her gaze and smoothed her tongue over her bottom lip. When she lifted her head and met his eyes, she supposed his thoughts must have been the same as hers. “You wanted to kiss me,” she whispered, and lifted her face to let him do it now. “I guess I knew you wanted to kiss me.”
“More,” he groaned, crushing her to his chest. “I wanted to do a whole lot more than kiss you, Daisy honey. We’re talking get-naked, climb-into-bed, all-out shoot-me-to-the-clouds kind of lovemaking.” He lowered his voice. “I still want to.”
Daisy shivered. She’d hypothesized plenty about that very thing. Too bad he didn’t just act on his impulse, instead of spelling it out. They might already be making beautiful memories—and providing grist for the Island’s rumor mill. A minute ago, she would have tumbled into bed with him. Now…well, she couldn’t, that was all. Maybe because of the gossip. Or because she couldn’t believe in a future for them. Or—and this was the most painful—because she knew it wouldn’t mean to him what it would to her.
“Sounds as if you have a lot of experience with this sort of thing,” she said solemnly, slipping from his arms.
His first inclination was to laugh. But when she went to stand beside the windows and the rising moon revealed a veiled look in her eyes, he realized she thought he did this kind of thing all the time. In reality, he’d been out of the serious dating loop for years. Ever since Miranda. So now what? His heart still thundered with desire, and he guessed this was where modern couples exchanged blood tests or signed contracts or something. Unsure what to say next, he was relieved when she spoke from the shadows and changed subjects completely.
The Water Baby Page 14