She put the music on low. "The hospital asked about insurance," she told him quietly.
"That's fine. I'll cover it, and anything else they might need. I'm sure things will get straightened out soon. Thanks for calling, Kayla."
"Sure. The woman I spoke to said she'd get in touch with the local Cuban Refugee center. Did you know that once they're approved, this agency will assist with their resettlement? Taylor looked it up and she told me the services include housing, employment, medical care and finding a school for the children."
"I didn't know that, but I'm glad. You won't have to worry about taking care of them and neither will I."
"True. But while I was taking my shower my head was spinning. I started thinking about how I need a handyman to paint all the cottages before fall. And we need a housekeeper. And I sure could use a hand with the weeding."
He chuckled. "Looks like you already have plans."
"Well, maybe.” Kayla was the type to fix things. Organize them. Make everybody happy. “They might be better off taking the help through this refugee program, but while they’re waiting for all this to kick in, I could use Miguel's services and pay him instead of someone else. I'm sure they could use a little money. They've lost everything."
"I have something to tell you later," he whispered with a quick glance at her face.
His eyes looked worried, and she was instantly afraid. What did he know that she didn't? What could possibly go wrong at this point?
"Now what?"
"We need to discuss this alone." He shifted in his seat and glanced at the family behind him. "How're you feeling, Juanita?"
Her eyes were closed, but she opened them and cracked a small smile. "Good."
"Won't be long now," he said in a reassuring manner. "You are safe."
They fell silent for some time after that, but she could hear Miguel pointing out things to his son, and the excitement in their voices as they drove toward freedom.
"There it is," Kayla gesturing toward a big building ahead. “The Lower Keys Medical Center." She turned her head and glanced at Juanita. "Your American baby will be born right here."
CHAPTER NINE
Kayla dropped them all out front of the main hospital doors, then went to find a place to park. When she joined them in the admissions reception area, an official looking man was already speaking with the family.
"Someone from the department of Homeland Security," Sean told her, looking very efficient in his khakis and dress shirt. "They just have to ask them a few questions. I told him that after rescuing the three of them from the sea there was no time to call the Coast Guard, determining that they needed medical attention at once. I played the doctor card. It seemed less complicated that way."
Kayla's eyes met his. "Yes. I'm glad you did." She watched nervously as the gray-haired man spoke with Miguel. "They will admit Juanita, won't they? They can't deport them now."
"I'm sure that's not an issue. They just have protocol to follow. I mentioned that I'm a cardiac surgeon on leave from Massachusetts General Hospital, and will take responsibility for this family’s needs. I'm sure that will help remedy any potential problems." He rubbed his fingers together in the universal sign for money.
"You're a good man, Dr. Sean." Warmth spread inside of her, and she was glad for the cool air conditioning.
They were sitting in two wooden chairs next to each other, and he patted her knee. "You're not so bad yourself, Miss Kayla Holmes."
A moment later, another man rushed up to the couple, and they heard him say he was with the U.S. Refugee Admissions Program, and offered his services to help. Then he started speaking in Spanish.
Sean put an arm behind her chair, looking relaxed. Completely opposite of how she felt. "Not sure what's all going on," he said in a low voice, "but I think it's a little out of our control at the moment."
She loved the fact his arm was at her back, and leaned slightly in his direction. "You don't say."
He looked surprised at her comment and then gave her a lazy smile. "Great job you did picking them up those snazzy T-shirts, by the way. How did you find the time?"
"I didn't. That was Brittany's idea. Sweet, wasn't it?"
"Very. Love the colors," he said dryly.
"I was a little uncomfortable with Juanita's. What must she think?"
"Probably that you're very kind."
"Wasn't me. It was my sister."
"Well, your entire family is delightful. I'll give you that."
"Which reminds me. We have a cooler in the back of the Honda. Taylor made us a bunch of sandwiches, and we have cold bottled water, and fruit. Grapes and peaches."
"I love Taylor," he said in a serious manner.
"I do too."
They sat in comfortable silence until the man from Homeland Security came over and asked them a few questions. Kayla let Sean do most of the talking since he'd found the family, but stated that she ran a resort with twelve cabins, and would be able to accommodate the family for the first month.
He took down all their information and said he'd be in touch.
Meanwhile the other gentleman from the refugee program was filling out forms and giving them to Miguel and his wife to sign. Sean stepped up, read what was being written down, then returned to the chair next to hers.
"Seems like they have a cousin who lives somewhere in Miami. Miguel and his family lost touch years ago. They don't have a current address but Mr. Perez will try to learn their latest whereabouts. Oh, and by the way, Miguel's last name is Hernandez. I never thought to ask."
"Neither did I." She studied her fingernails. "So, they do have family nearby." Kayla had no idea why the idea disappointed her. "I hope they don't have to leave until after the baby is born." She was too embarrassed to share with him how she wanted to welcome the baby home, into the cabin that her family was getting ready right now. She'd been looking forward to toys and rattles and talcum powder—and burrowing her nose in baby-fresh skin.
"You might not feel that way for long. It could be days or it could be months. Babies come when they're good and ready.”
"You sound like you might have experience in that department." She glanced at his face. "You have any kids?" Kayla held her breath, wondering if the personal question would bring back the prickly Sean.
His expression closed. Sean removed his arm from behind her chair and stared at an ocean painting on the opposite wall. She'd touched on something all right. Her stomach rumbled, but not from hunger. She wanted to know about Sean's life back in Boston. Who and what had he left behind?
"I'm sorry," she said quietly, touching his armrest next to hers. "I know so little about you. Whether you want me to be or not, I'm interested in you. As a friend," she added quickly to reassure him, or herself, she wasn't sure.
"I'm going to go get some coffee. Want one?"
Kayla nodded, wishing she hadn’t asked the question. "Cream, no sugar," she told him and watched his back as he went in search of a coffee shop. She knew he didn't want coffee anymore than she did, but he wasn't ready to open up to her just yet. One day at a time, she hoped he would trust her enough to reveal himself.
As much as this family he'd saved, Dr. Sean needed care and time to heal his emotional wounds, and he'd come to the right place. Paradise Cove was a soothing balm for a troubled soul.
Sean returned about ten minutes later, handing her a coffee and a glazed donut. He stretched his legs out next to her, looking relaxed again. "Sorry. I think I owe you a couple of apologies, actually.”
“No, you don’t,” Kayla said. “We’re even.”
He sipped his coffee. “I'm not in the mood for talking, but I wouldn't mind if you did. What's your story? How did you end up here?"
She told him about losing her dad during the terrorist attack, and how he had meant the world to her. They had been buddies, and as the eldest girl, he'd taken her out fishing and to the golf links with him. They'd gone to school dances, and he'd given her her first carnation and practiced the
ir first waltz. "I loved him so much," her voice broke. Embarrassed, she covered her mouth and turned away.
Sean took her hand and gave it a squeeze. "I'm sorry, Kayla. You don't have to tell me anymore. It's okay."
"No. I want to." She gave him an abbreviated explanation of the following years, then concluded by saying, "So, my sisters and I have lost two dads. But everyone handles grief differently. I went off the deep end when dad died. Yet, my younger sisters seemed to take it in their stride. Losing our step-dad for them was almost harder, I think. Still, here we are."
"You are all brave, remarkable women. Your mother included." He gave her a long appraising look she couldn't decipher, but got her juices flowing again. "I'm surprised that you all were willing to leave your jobs behind and settle here. It's kind of remote."
She felt her mouth go dry and wished she had a bottle of water instead of coffee. The donut was left untouched. "So am I. I didn't really expect my sisters to come. Figured it would just be Mom and I. After all, this was our step-dad's dream and retirement plan. I mean, Mom liked the idea of it, but didn’t think she’d be alone to make it happen."
"I'm sorry about your step-dad. But I think you and your high-spirited sisters are doing a terrific job running Paradise Cottages. Your mother's a live wire too."
She smiled, pleased by his comment. "Thank you. I love it here. There's such an amazing feeling of security, of being safe, that I never experienced in the city. Not after Dad died."
"So what are your plans? You have plenty of land for expansion, but that would be quite an undertaking."
Expansion? She wrapped her donut in a napkin. "I think we have enough to handle as it is. But we're going to spruce up the place. We'd like to have all the units painted, inside and out. Pool needs a new deck, and so on." She shrugged. "It'll all be done, but we’ve got to prioritize. November's the goal for the first phase. Not much time. The pool can wait until next summer, but I'd like the grounds and exterior painting done so it doesn't look so seedy."
"It doesn’t look seedy,” Sean countered quickly. “It's a little rustic, but that's what people expect." He stretched and yawned. "If they wanted the Ritz, they would have gone there."
"That's true," she answered with a laugh. "Still... I want it to be very nice."
"Of course you do. If you need another pair of hands, I'm available. It'll be therapeutic—take my mind off things."
"You're on a holiday," she reminded him. "And hard labor doesn't sound like much fun, therapeutic or not.” Kayla wished she could ask him the questions that begged to be answered. What drove him from Boston to Paradise Cove? Did he still have loved ones back at home?
"I'm taking a break from work, but I'm not sure if I'd call it a holiday. Just needed time to get away...be on my own for awhile."
She nodded, accepting his explanation for now. Her eyes lingered on his face. "Okay. So you're a handyman now?" She spoke with a teasing grin, eager to lighten the mood. "Somehow, I can't see you with a paint brush."
He gave a rueful smile. "Truthfully, I can't either. Not that I haven't painted a room or two."
A vision of a younger, happier Sean came to mind. She could practically see him with a pretty young wife, their first home. Discussing color samples and wall paper—perhaps even a nursery. The thought made her heart ache. What had gone wrong? So terribly wrong, that he was here? Alone.
She drew in a breath, pushing aside the mystery of his past to get back to the issues at hand. "I'd like to ask Miguel to do the work. Now, it doesn't look likely."
"They don't have to settle near their relatives. The choice will be up to them."
"Well, whatever happens, I just want them to be taken care of."
"This agency will see to that. They have a lot of resources, Kayla. You don't need to worry."
"You're right. But it's part of my DNA." Feeling self-conscious, she brought the conversation back to the here and now. "When do you think they'll be done with their paperwork? It seems to be taking forever."
"That's your anxiety speaking." He stood up. "It’s only been an hour. I'll go check, though. See what's going on."
"I'm coming too." While Sean spoke with Mr. Perez, Kayla took a seat next to Juanita. There were some toys in the corner that Raul had found, and he seemed content playing with the wooden blocks. She wondered if he ever had toys of his own.
"You okay?" she asked Juanita, taking her hand in hers. The woman had her head back, eyes half-shut, and looked totally exhausted.
"Tired. So tired."
"I understand. Hopefully they’ll get you into a room soon so you can rest."
She glanced at Sean and he nodded, and after a few minutes came over.
"They’re just waiting on a bed. Shouldn't be long now."
It seemed like an eternity, but only an hour went by before an admitting nurse came out, and told them to follow her down a well-lit corridor. Mrs. Hernandez had a room.
Once the family was settled, Kayla ran back to the car and brought up the cooler on wheels, dispensing sandwiches, water bottles, and sharing the fruit.
Nurses came and went, and it wasn't long before Kayla and Sean realized that their presence was no longer needed. In fact, Juanita and her husband would like some time alone. Kayla invited Raul to come back with them, but he shook his head no, holding tight to his father’s hand.
"I'll be back in the morning," Sean told them, and left his card with his cell phone number. "You need anything, you call me. Understand?"
The two men shook hands, and Kayla kissed Raul and Juanita on the forehead, then whispered a good-bye. Tears burned the back of her eyes as she wandered down the corridor, but she couldn't put a name on her emotions. She still felt as if the family were alone in the world, and wished she could do more to help.
On the ride back home, she remembered that he had wanted to tell her something. Some new information regarding the family.
"You were going to tell me something, Sean." She glanced his way and noticed that he looked lost in thought.
"It's not important."
Kayla didn’t want Sean to retreat behind his mask again, but she wasn’t ready to let this go. If it pertained to her family, it mattered. "I think it is. You mentioned it for a reason."
He sighed. "I'm sure that Mr. Perez will handle the problem for him."
"What problem?" she persisted.
"Do you really want to know?" He clenched his hands against the dashboard and kept his gaze straight ahead.
"Yes. I do."
"Miguel stole the raft. It was a neighbor's. He told me this morning when you left to get the car. He was frightened, worried about going to the hospital. Tried to talk me out of it, saying they wouldn't be safe. He'd be sent to jail."
"Crap. He stole the raft?"
"Yes, he was crying and so ashamed.” Sean’s jaw tightened. “Said he'd only been trying to save his family. His youngest son, Raul's brother, was six when he got caught in crossfire between two drug lords. Killed immediately. Miguel said he couldn't let that happen to this new baby."
"So, he stole his neighbor's raft," she said softly. His other son dead? "Son of a bitch. But I guess I can't blame him."
"Miguel said his neighbor had been building it for months. It wasn't done, not safe, but he couldn't wait. So he left him his life's savings, and they escaped in the middle of the night."
She didn't answer for a few seconds, as it was a lot to consider. "That is such a sad story." Kayla sucked in a breath and released it slowly. "I also can understand Miguel's concern if the neighbor reported the theft. But they had already lost one son. They didn't want to stay and possibly lose another. I think he did the right thing. And he did pay for the raft!" she added in his defense.
Kayla darted a quick glance in his direction and he smiled. She turned to butter, melting from the warmth in his eyes. He was kind, and sexy, and honorable. All too likeable. She blinked and focused on the road ahead, making an effort not to be swept away by the man sitting next to her
.
He blew it when he said, "I had a feeling you'd understand. That's why I came to you."
"To me?" she asked, her pulse racing.
"Yes. I'm a specialist of the heart, and I recognize a good one when I see it. Yours is kind, generous, with a lot of love to give."
"I...I...don't know what to say. Thank you."
As if he'd said too much already, he settled back in the seat, closed his eyes and drifted off to sleep.
Kayla drove the rest of the way sneaking peeks at him, and attempting to keep the silly grin off her face. She felt her stomach jumping all over the place, like someone perched on a high dive waiting to take the plunge.
CHAPTER TEN
Kayla dropped Sean off at his cottage. “Get some more rest,” she said, knowing he'd only caught fifteen minutes sleep during the drive home. “You’re exhausted.”
He leaned across the seat to kiss her cheek. Even without sensual intent, the air between them heated. “Thanks,” he said, getting out of the car.
Scrubbing her cheek, she headed for the office to see if her mother or one of her sisters needed a break. It was three in the afternoon and she’d been gone since just after nine.
Her mom hung up the phone. "That was my friend Jo-Anne," she told Kayla, excitement in her voice. "She was a counselor at Princeton Day School a few years ago, but retired and has been living the good life.”
“I remember her,” Kayla said.
“Anyway, she called to book two cottages for a week in December. Isn't that great? She's inviting her daughter and her family as a pre-Christmas get-together."
Kayla grinned. "That's wonderful. This really is a perfect place for families to gather. Let’s tell Taylor to add that to our website. We can pimp the hell out of it."
"You don't need to pimp anything," her mother answered primly. "Just show photos of the place and it will sell itself. We're in an ideal location. Right between Key Largo and Islamorada. Something for everybody." She pushed herself out of the chair and took Kayla's hand. "You've had an exhausting day. How is the family? Was Juanita admitted okay?"
PARADISE COVE (PARADISE SERIES Book 1) Page 7