"You don't want that, Caroline. You know you don't."
Caroline? Tyler's gaze flew to the woman. Sure enough, he recognized that spiky hair. It was Kate's baby sister. He walked quickly down the path. "Everything all right here?" he called.
The couple split apart. Caroline looked upset. The man appeared wary.
"Tyler," she said warily. "What are you doing down here?"
"Jogging. How about you?"
"Me, too," she said.
He wondered how she could have been running in a pair of flip flops and cut-off shorts, but be refrained from commenting.
"Call me later," the bearded man said. "I'll expect to hear from you."
"Sure, whatever."
"Are you all right?" Tyler asked when they were alone. He didn't like the desperate look in her eyes, and even though she shrugged off his comment, he had the feeling she was far from all right.
"You don't have a cigarette, do you? I could really use a hit right now," she said.
"I don't smoke."
"That figures."
"Who was that guy?" he asked.
She started walking down the path the same way he had come. "A friend."
"He didn't look too friendly. What's his name?" He fell into step alongside her.
"Why do you care?"
"It's the reporter in me."
Caroline stopped and rested her elbows on the rail overlooking the boats. "Mike Stanaway," she said. "And I don't appreciate the third degree or the questioning look. I don't need a big brother. I already have two big sisters butting into my business."
"I understand." He leaned on the railing next to her. "There are a lot of boats in the harbor today. Do you still sail?”
"Sometimes."
"But you don't race?"
"Not anymore."
"You don't miss it?"
"Sometimes," she said, repeating her earlier answer with a smile. "Is this the best you've got?"
"Why don't you and your sisters want to talk to me?"
"I'm talking to you right now. I had dinner with you the other night."
"And we talked about the different kinds of clam chowder. You prefer the white over the red."
"Good, you were listening," she said with a laugh, her mood obviously changing. She took in a breath and stretched her arms over her head. "It is a nice day, isn't it? Why can't I just enjoy a beautiful day without wanting more?"
"More what?"
"I don't know. More something. Do you ever feel like there's a hole in your stomach that you can't fill, no matter what you try to do?"
"Every day about four o'clock."
"I'm not talking about food. I'm talking about life.”
"I'm not that philosophical. I'm usually too busy.”
"Trying to get from one place to the next," she said. "You're not exactly an island-living kind of guy, are you?"
"I haven't been."
She sent him a curious look. "Does that mean this place is growing on you?"
"I make it a rule not to get too attached to any place," he said. "It makes it easier to leave."
"What if you find somewhere you want to stay?”
"I haven't yet."
"You sound like my father."
Tyler frowned. Kate had made the same comparison the night before, and he hadn't liked it then, either. "Why do you say that?"
"He's a wanderer, a traveling man, a gypsy at heart."
"Your father doesn't seem to have wandered too far in recent years."
"I'm not sure that's completely by choice."
"He stays for the family?" When she didn't reply to that question, he asked another. "What's your father like?"
She thought for a moment. "Daddy is one of a kind. He's bold, brave, crazy, selfish at times, generous at others. He's complicated. He's like an upside-down cake. All the ingredients are there, but they're not in the right order. Does that make sense?"
"It's an interesting description."
"That's Duncan McKenna—interesting. Not always smart, not always right, but always interesting."
"You admire him," Tyler said, reading between the lines.
"He lives over there." Caroline pointed to the marina. "In a small sailboat. When we first came back here, he rented us all an apartment. He lasted three months there, then he bought the boat and left us on our own. He couldn't sleep on land. He still can't."
"So you and your sisters stayed together?"
"For the first year or two. It wasn't easy. We'd lived together on a boat for almost three years, but we were suddenly bumping into each other and tripping over things. We argued all the time. Kate wanted a house. Ashley wanted a job. And I was trying to finish high school, but I didn't really belong there. I was a lot older than the other kids—maybe not in years, but definitely in life experience. I took an early test and got out as quickly as I could. Once I was out of school, Kate got going on her plan to buy the bookstore, and Ashley started taking classes in photography. We eventually split up and got our own places."
"What happened to the family home—the one you lived in before you took off on your three-year adventure?"
"My dad sold the house when we went to sea. He needed the money to finance the trip." She paused. "I wish he hadn't sold it. I think we all would have liked to go back there to live, Kate especially. She loved that house."
"Who lives there now?"
"It has changed owners over the years, but the family who owns it now bought it to use only as a vacation place. It's boarded up in the winter. They usually show up sometime in July. Kate tried to buy it back, but they didn't want to sell. Sometimes I go out there and wander through the yard. It's on a bluff overlooking the water. We used to sit there, the three of us girls and my mom, watching for my dad's boat to sail back into the harbor." She gave a disgusted shake of her head. "That sounds pathetic, doesn't it? I'm not going to spend my life waiting for someone to come home, believe me."
Tyler smiled. "How about Kate? What can you tell me about her and Jeremy?" he asked.
"What did Kate tell you?"
"Not much, just that they were engaged to be married before he died."
"Yes." Caroline looked away. "It was very sad. He was a great guy."
"Must have been tough on Kate."
"I'm not sure she'll ever get over him."
"She loved him that much?" The idea disturbed Tyler more than it should have. It was no business of his whom Kate had loved or how deep that love had gone unless, of course, she was Amelia's mother.
"Kate is an all-or-nothing person. She loves with her whole heart. She doesn't hold anything back, even if people don't always deserve it, like my father." Caroline paused. "And Kate doesn't tolerate anyone messing with the people she loves."
"Is that a warning?"
"I find myself liking you for some unknown reason," Caroline said frankly.
"I like you, too."
She smiled at him. "Coming from a reporter, I'll take that for what it's worth."
"One last question?"
"What?"
"Why wasn't Jeremy sailing on your boat?"
"Because my dad wanted it to be a family venture, and Jeremy wasn't family."
"So he joined the competition."
"He wanted to race. It was his best option."
"But a decision that turned out to be disastrous."
Caroline nodded, and for a moment silence fell between them. Then she said, "Can I ask you something, Tyler?"
"Sure."
"Do you think you can go back?"
"I don't think you can change the past, if that's what you mean."
"Can you change the memories? Can you ever forget things you want to forget?"
Tyler didn't have an answer to that question. He was surprised at the depth of emotion in her voice. His first impression of Caroline had been of a young, reckless woman, perhaps a little flaky, but she was as complicated as the rest of the McKenna clan.
"Never mind," she said. "I'll have to figure it o
ut for myself. That's the problem with life. It's not really a spectator sport."
* * *
Maybe life wasn't meant to be a spectator sport, but watching Kate had certainly become Tyler's favorite pastime, he thought later that afternoon as he followed Kate's car up the hill leading away from town. He'd meant to catch her at her bookstore but instead had found her pulling away from the curb in her Volkswagen. She hadn't seemed to notice his car behind hers. If she had, she probably would have tried to dodge him.
His eyes narrowed as she veered away from the street leading to her house. Where was she headed? Neither Ashley nor Caroline lived in this direction. A few blocks later he had his answer when she pulled up in front of two stone gates with a sign that read Castleton Cemetery. She drove through the gates as if she knew exactly where she was going, and Tyler had the terrible feeling he also knew exactly where she was headed.
* * *
Kate's stomach began to churn as she drove up the quiet, winding road that led through the cemetery. She hadn't been here in a while. For years she'd come once a week, sometimes two or three times, but lately her visits had dwindled. Caroline would have said, Thank heavens, you're finally getting on with your life. Ashley would have said, It's okay to let go. Jeremy would want you to stop being sad.
Had she stopped being sad?
Had she finally let go?
Obviously not completely, since she was here now. But she wasn't here because of Jeremy, but because of Tyler.
She hadn't been able to sleep last night, thinking about Tyler, about Jeremy, about her father. God, all these men; they were making her nuts.
Stopping in front of a familiar tree, she turned off the engine and sat for a moment. Then she got out of the car and walked onto the grass. She knelt down by the headstone and read it for the thousandth time, tracing the letters of Jeremy's name with her fingers.
Jeremy had been a loving son and brother, as the headstone read, but he'd been so much more: adventurous, carefree, bold, confident, a man who'd loved the sea, loved life, loved her.
If only she'd done things differently.
How many times had that thought gone through her mind?
Kate sat back on her heels. It was peaceful here, quiet. Jeremy would not have liked it at all. He was a man of action, a man of the water. His dreams had always taken him to the farthest ends of the earth. She'd gone along with him in most of those dreams. He'd made the future sound wonderful. They'd travel for years, see everything they could see. They'd climb pyramids, visit holy temples, hike through rain forests, and when they were done—they'd have kids.
She'd tried to tell him that they would need to make plans, do research, work within a budget. He'd only laughed and told her she worried too much, and she supposed she did. But her worry and his daring had made for a nice balance.
It didn't matter that their dreams now seemed so foolish, so ridiculously young. Maybe they wouldn't have accomplished everything Jeremy wanted them to do, but Kate knew they would have still loved each other. Their connection had been deep and emotional. They'd grown up together, shared an abiding friendship. Jeremy had held her in his arms when her mother died. He'd helped her through the worst experience of her life. Jeremy had been her everything—and she'd been his.
But even as the thought crossed her mind, she knew it wasn't true. Jeremy had had another love—the sea. Just like her father, the ocean had called to Jeremy in a way she never could.
Jeremy wouldn't have wanted to be buried here in the ground. He would have rather had his ashes flung into the wind over a beautiful sea. But Jeremy's parents had wanted him here with his grandparents, with his ancestors. Kate hadn't had the heart to argue with them. It didn't matter anyway. Jeremy wasn't really here. Only his headstone.
Kate stiffened at the sound of footsteps. The hairs on the back of her neck stood straight up. She didn't have to look to know who was behind her. It seemed almost inevitable that he should be here.
"Kate?"
His voice was a warm, rich baritone. It ran through her like fine wine and weakened her resolve.
"Are you following me now?" she asked sharply. Maybe anger could get her past this foolish, dangerous attraction.
"Guilty, but I thought you were going home when you left the bookstore."
"I changed my mine," she replied, plucking at an errant weed with her fingers.
"I realized that too late. Am I intruding?"
"Yes, but you already knew that.” Kate finally allowed herself to look at him. She immediately wished she hadn't. Last night she'd tried to convince herself that she was not attracted to him, but dressed in jeans that emphasized his long, lean legs and a rugby shirt that stretched across a very broad chest, he looked as good as she remembered and so very vital, so very alive.
Jeremy's image vanished from her mind. She strained to bring back the laughing, boyish smile, but she couldn't. Because of Tyler.
"You shouldn't have come here," she said harshly, jumping to her feet. "Why can't you just leave me alone?"
He tilted his head, looking somewhat perplexed. "I've been asking myself the same question," he said, surprising her with his answer.
She saw something in his eyes, something that looked like truth, something that told her that he felt something that had nothing to do with a newspaper story. Or did she just want to believe that?
Was he just flirting with her to get a story?
Kate walked down the path toward her car. Tyler immediately followed.
"I have a proposition for you," he said, as she opened her car door.
"I'm not interested."
"Hear me out?"
She shook her head.
He put a hand on her shoulder, forcing her to look at him. "I don't want to like you, either," he said. "I can't seem to stop myself."
"I don't like you," she said quickly.
"Maybe like wasn't the right word, but there's something between us."
"You'll say anything to get a story, won't you?"
"This isn't about the story.” He paused, giving her a long look. "Are you still in love with Jeremy?"
Her mouth went dry. How had their conversation gotten so personal? "That's none of your business. I'm going home."
"I'll go with you."
She sighed. "I won't answer any more of your questions."
"Any more? You haven't answered any yet. I just want to spend some time with you, do whatever you're doing.” He paused. "What are you going to be doing?"
"Nothing that interesting."
"It might be more interesting if we do it together.” He sent her a sexy, charming smile. "We got off on the wrong foot, Kate. Let's start over. I'm Tyler Jamison. Nice to meet you.” He extended his hand.
She hesitated and then slid her fingers into his. A jolt of electricity shot through her body. She looked into his eyes and saw the same flash of awareness. Oh, Lord. She was in trouble.
"Let me spend the day with you," Tyler said quietly. "Give us a chance to get to know each other."
Kate could think of a dozen reasons why that wasn't a good idea, but the only answer she could give him was yes—and hope to God that at some point she'd have the strength to say no.
Chapter Nine
Caroline walked into the Oyster Bar and paused, letting her eyes adjust to the dim light. She shouldn't have come, but her feet wouldn't go in another direction. She needed something to fill the gnawing hole in her gut. As she turned toward the bar, her attention was caught by a group of men in a far corner and a very familiar voice.
"Kate was the best at keeping us on course. She could steer by the stars," Duncan said in his big, booming voice. "And she never let herself get distracted. That girl was all purpose all the time. Ashley always had her head in a book or her eyes behind a camera. She was a watcher, she was. And Caroline? Well, what can I say about my baby girl?"
Caroline wondered what he would say about her. She couldn't help but listen, hoping for something that she couldn't even put in
to words, but she knew it had a lot to do with approval. Duncan always raved about Kate's abilities to do just about anything, and he spoke fondly of Ashley as if she were a gentle creature that just needed to be loved. But what about her? What did he say about her when she wasn't listening? She wanted so badly to know, so she crept forward, hoping he wouldn't see her, because then he would surely shut up.
"That Caroline is a piece of work," one of the other men said. "A born hellion."
Caroline frowned. That wasn't what she wanted to hear. Speak up, Daddy, she silently urged. Tell him what I'm really like. Tell him how fast I was at raising the sails. Tell him how good I was at the wheel, how important I was in winning the race.
"Caroline was a loose cannon. I never knew what that girl was going to do. But I'll say this for her—she always kept us on our toes." Duncan laughed and took off his well-worn navy blue cap.
Caroline turned away in disgust. She'd been a fool to believe she'd hear praise from her father. He'd never been proud of her, and he never would be.
"I will say this, though—she could sing like a pretty bird," Duncan added, halting Caroline in her tracks. "Some nights I'd be alone at the helm, thinking the girls were all asleep, and I'd hear this song drifting across the waves like the sea was singing to me. Caroline sounded so much like her mother then." His voice broke, and he cleared his throat. "Another round for the boys," he called to the bartender.
Caroline blinked back the unexpected moisture in her eyes. She'd never heard him compare her voice to her mother's. At least he'd noticed something about her, something good instead of something bad. That was probably a first. What he never seemed to notice was how alike they were—how comfortable they both felt in dark, smoky bars, how much they'd both loved the sea.
Sailing around the world had been terrifying, but thrilling, too. Maybe she needed to get back out there. What was she doing, spending all her days on this island? It was home, but it wasn't enough. She wanted more, but more what? Nothing seemed to fill the emptiness inside of her. God knows she'd tried filling it with just about everything she could find.
She cast another look at her father, wondering if she should join in their conversation.
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