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The Daughter He Never Knew

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by Linda Barrett




  “She’s mine, isn’t she?”

  Lila could hear the hope in his question. Her throat closed. Katie had been hers alone for eight years. She’d been the one to cuddle her, feed her, nurse her and play with her. She’d been the one to tuck her in at night with a hundred kisses. And now she’d be the one to introduce her to her father.

  “Yes.” One word whispered on a thin breath of air. She gave Jason the word that would change everything for both of them. She said it again—louder this time—and watched his smile emerge. The smile that could melt her like rich chocolate on a hot summer day. His grin widened, a dimple appeared….

  And, God help her, she was eighteen again….

  Dear Reader,

  After his twin brother died on the night of their senior prom, Jason Parker disappeared from Pilgrim Cove. Nine years later he returns in order to make peace with his family…with Lila Sullivan, the woman he can’t forget…and with himself. But nothing and no one is the same as he remembers. Certainly not his family. Not Lila, with her fiancé and a child. Not even his old house. Can a wanderer ever find home again? Do second chances really exist?

  Bart Quinn and the ROMEOS say yes. All Jason needs is a quiet place on the beach to do some catching up, and Sea View House is the perfect place for that. Little do the good-hearted seniors know that for Jason, Sea View House holds explosive memories. Exciting memories. Memories of Lila.

  Pilgrim Cove. I’d like to extend my deep appreciation to each and every reader for joining me on my visits there. Special thanks to those who wrote to me. It seems we’d all like to live in Pilgrim Cove! Also, a sincere thank-you to my editors for believing in the idea and for giving me a chance to make that idea a reality. I have truly loved writing these stories.

  Enjoy!

  Linda Barrett

  THE DAUGHTER HE NEVER KNEW

  Linda Barrett

  CAST OF CHARACTERS

  Lila Sullivan

  Bart Quinn’s granddaughter and partner

  Jason Parker

  Twin son of Sam Parker

  Katie Sullivan Parker

  Lila and Jason’s eight-year-old daughter

  Maggie Quinn Sullivan

  Bart’s daughter, Lila’s mother

  Partner in The Lobster Pot

  Married to Tom Sullivan, Lila’s father

  Adam Fielding

  Veterinarian, Lila’s fiancé

  Bart Quinn

  Realtor for Sea View House

  Father of Maggie Sullivan and Thea Cavelli

  Grandfather of Lila Quinn Sullivan

  Great-grandfather of Katie Sullivan

  Thea Quinn Cavelli

  Bart’s daughter, Maggie’s sister

  Partner in The Lobster Pot

  Married to Charlie Cavelli

  THE ROMEOS (RETIRED OLD MEN EATING OUT)

  Bart Quinn

  Unofficial leader of the ROMEOS

  Sam Parker

  Jason’s dad, works part-time with older son Matt

  Joe Cavelli

  Thea’s father-in-law

  Rick “Chief” O’Brien

  Retired police chief; married to Dee Barnes

  Lou Goodman

  Retired high school librarian;

  Rachel’s father; married to Pearl

  Max “Doc” Rosen

  Retired physician

  Ralph Bigelow

  Retired electrician

  Mike Lyons

  Retired engineer

  To Sandy and Rick

  Sometimes a love is so right….

  When I think of you together, I smile inside and out,

  and can’t wait to dance at the wedding!

  Books by Linda Barrett

  HARLEQUIN SUPERROMANCE

  971—LOVE, MONEY AND AMANDA SHAW

  1001—TRUE-BLUE TEXAN

  1073—THE APPLE ORCHARD

  1115—THE INN AT OAK CREEK

  1192—THE HOUSE ON THE BEACH*

  1218—NO ORDINARY SUMMER*

  1256—RELUCTANT HOUSEMATES*

  CONTENTS

  PROLOGUE

  CHAPTER ONE

  CHAPTER TWO

  CHAPTER THREE

  CHAPTER FOUR

  CHAPTER FIVE

  CHAPTER SIX

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  CHAPTER NINE

  CHAPTER TEN

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  PROLOGUE

  Los Angeles, CA

  WAS THIS THE BEGINNING of his life or the end?

  Jason Parker removed his headset and stared into the glass booth at the Latin heartthrob whose voice had captivated millions of listeners in recent years. The singer had just finished recording and looked like he was in another world. A good sign, thought Jason as he waited for the vocalist to emerge. Luis Torres would spin Jason’s words and music into gold…or platinum…as he’d done several times before.

  This particular lyric, however, had come at a high price. With every word Jason had written, pain had traveled from his hand to his heart. But he’d kept on writing. About Jared. About Lila. About loneliness. About home.

  However, he’d finished the damn song without Jack Daniel’s to keep him company! And that felt good.

  “J.J.,” called the singer, coming toward Jason, then slapping him on the back. “We have a winner! When this song hits the air, every woman in the world is Lila. Or wants to be. Yes? No? You agree?”

  Jason inhaled hard. Lila! For nine years, he’d carried her image with him. Hearing her name in conversation jarred him. He didn’t care about every woman in the world! He cared only about Lila and her reaction to the song. But he nodded and thanked Luis, and tried to focus on the man’s next words as he waved over the conductor and technicians.

  “The chorus would be richer with harmony,” said Luis. With features set, he stared at Jason. “And your voice will blend very well, my friend. Let’s do it.”

  Jason took another deep breath, then turned around and walked a few steps before facing the singer again. “We’ve discussed this before, and the answer’s still no. You’re the voice. I’m the writer. If you want harmony, we can cut another track, and you can sing with yourself.”

  But Luis was shaking his head, his dark eyes intense. “Ahh, mi amigo, trust me to know. Do what I say, and the music will be complete. And maybe you will be, too.”

  Jason stood rigid, and Luis continued. “We’ll take a vote when we’re done if you don’t like the sound. In the true American way.” He looked at all the musicians in the studio and swept his arm toward them. “We have very qualified voters, no?”

  Glaring at the vocalist, Jason knew he’d been outmaneuvered. Luis was the one with the real clout. It was his voice and style that sold records. Jason sighed, took his headset and walked into the recording booth. New beginnings were always difficult. A little more pain wouldn’t kill him.

  CHAPTER ONE

  Three months later

  Pilgrim Cove, Massachusetts

  ON THE FIRST TUESDAY MORNING in May, Bartholomew Quinn, dapper in bow tie and suspenders under a lightweight sport jacket, tugged open the glass door of the Diner on the Dunes and made his way to the reserved booth at the back. He glanced at the round table, but none of his pals had shown up yet. He was alone, on purpose, with some special reading material he wanted to enjoy.

  He chose a seat facing the front of the diner and made himself comfortable. From his inside jacket pocket, he withdrew a white business envelope, removed a thick sheaf of papers and flattened them out on the table. Although it was still in draft form, he was eager to get sta
rted on what would be the newest entry to the Sea View House Journal. The courtship of Rachel Goodman and Jack Levine would be the most exciting chapter yet.

  Of course, he’d felt the same way when he’d read Shelley Anderson and Daniel Stone’s tale, and before that, Laura McCloud and Matt Parker’s. He chuckled softly. Where would all those young people be without him? Hadn’t he thrown each couple together at Sea View House? He’d done some mighty good deeds lately in the name of love. His Rosemary was probably having a good laugh up there in heaven watching his antics.

  He glanced at the sunny day through the picture window on the opposite side of the aisle, and listened with half an ear to the rich voice coming in over the speaker system… Beautiful song…whatever it was.

  Suddenly, he sat straighter and listened harder. What was the man singing about?

  “In my dreams, I am racing there,

  To my Lila at the water’s edge.”

  Lila? Which Lila? Who was racing? Where was the water’s edge? His heart picked up speed, and his important papers were forgotten. Only one Lila mattered—his precious granddaughter—his only granddaughter.

  Bart took a calming breath, then banged his fist on the table, annoyed with himself. He was jumping to conclusions. The song could be about a hundred other Lilas. He listened again.

  “A broken pledge

  Is all that’s left,

  In my hometown at the water’s edge…oh, Lila…my Lila…”

  The words repeated and faded. My Lila. Bart sat perfectly still. Could it be…Jason Parker? Jason certainly had the talent to write a song about the girl he’d loved and abandoned in a hometown near the water’s edge. Jason Parker, the boy who’d broken the hearts of so many people.

  Bart had known this day would come, and in the beginning, he’d prayed for it to happen as soon as possible. But now, after nine years, he’d been blind-sided. Like all of them would be. Especially Lila.

  WITH HIS CAR RADIO tuned to his favorite soft-rock station, Sam Parker headed toward the Diner after dropping off his daughter-in-law at the harbor in time to make the 7:30 ferry. Tuesday was one of Laura’s Boston days, and she’d get to the city in thirty minutes flat. Sam couldn’t help but smile at how wonderfully his son Matt’s new marriage was working out.

  Nothing was more important than family. At sixty-six, Sam had lived long enough to have learned that. The joy made up for the pain. At least, most of the time.

  “Two boys glance in the mirror,

  One face is all they see,

  Along the shore, they are no more,

  What’s left of them is me.”

  What was that? What was Luis Torres singing about? The words pinched Sam’s heart. His hands broke into a sweat, and the steering wheel slipped through his fingers, the car lurching to the side of the road. “Easy, easy, old man,” he whispered, clenching the wheel again. But those words! Two boys with one face. Like his boys. His twin sons. Identical twin sons. Jason and Jared.

  Sam forced himself to concentrate on his driving. Straighten the car, watch for cross traffic at the intersection. Accelerate to the next corner. Red light. Thankfully, he could pause.

  He’d missed some of the lyrics, but now he attended to the words once more.

  “…in my dreams, I am running there,

  With my brother to the water’s edge.”

  The water’s edge. Sam’s heart thudded again. The words echoed his sons’ childhoods at the beach. Sam couldn’t count the number of times his twin bundles of energy had run ahead of him to the ocean. “Only to the water’s edge,” he’d call after them. “Those are the rules until I get there.” And they’d listened to their dad. They’d been good boys.

  Could the lyrics really be Jason’s? Jason, the son who’d survived the car wreck on the night of the senior prom. Jason, still in pain. Still blaming himself.

  Sam listened hard. And unbelievably heard Jason’s voice join Luis Torres’s. For the first time in nine years, he heard his son’s voice! And knew he was alive.

  “COME ON, KATIE! We’ll be late for school.” Lila Sullivan continued to unload the dishwasher as she called to her eight-year-old daughter, but most of her attention was on the music that filled the kitchen with glorious warmth. What a voice! She stood quietly for a moment and closed her eyes, savoring the richness, the yearning. Torres felt the music. Made her feel it, too. She reached for a dinner plate, then paused. Had he said, Lila? She listened again, but only caught the last two lines:

  “A broken pledge is all that’s left,

  In my hometown at the water’s edge…oh, Lila…my Lila…”

  Now she focused on the announcer’s voice. “That was Luis Torres singing the title cut from his brand new album At The Water’s Edge. The song was written by J. J. Parks. They’ve collaborated on others, but I’m predicting platinum for this CD after it’s released for sale next week….”

  It wasn’t the dunes, the sand or the water’s edge that pointed to Jason Parker. It wasn’t even her name. Not really. Not until he combined it with the broken pledge.

  Lila’s legs didn’t work. She couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think. But inside, she screamed one word: Jason.

  Like a tightrope walker balancing on a frayed cord, she made her way slowly across the room. With shaking hands, she placed the dish she held on the counter.

  “…The phones have been lighting up,” continued the DJ. “One listener said it could be a love song to Pilgrim Cove with our wonderful beach and dunes. But is there a Lila out there in our listening area?”

  The announcer’s words faded away. The room darkened, and once again Lila walked carefully across the floor, this time allowing herself to collapse into a chair. She took a deep breath. Exhaled. Took another one.

  The DJ had given her all the information she needed. J. J. Parks was Jason Parker. She didn’t have to be Einstein to figure that one out. The two Js stood for Jason and Jared.

  “Mommy! I’m ready now.”

  Lila raised her head to look at her excited daughter—who was also Jason’s daughter. Katie stood in the doorway with a loaded backpack weighing almost as much as she did. Her grin had gaps where baby teeth used to be, but she looked adorable with her bangs peeking out from under the baseball cap she insisted on wearing.

  “It’s sports day at school…and we’re gonna play with the teachers and I gotta have my own glove and bat and ball…and…and… Whatsa matter, Mom?”

  Lila forced a smile. “Just waiting for you, sweetheart.” And wondering what other surprises Jason might spring after all this time.

  But maybe there wouldn’t be anything more. Perhaps he’d written the song simply to earn money. He seemed to have caught a lucky break with Luis Torres, and maybe he just wanted to make the most of it.

  Lila clenched her teeth. Money was no excuse. Jason’s disappearance had affected so many people who loved him. Including herself. For a long time after he’d left, she wouldn’t allow another man in her life.

  But nine years was…nine years. She was a woman now, with another life. And another man. She looked at the sparkling engagement ring on her finger. One of Jason’s lyrics had hit on the truth. “Too late…” It really was too late.

  Strength returned to her limbs, and she jumped from her chair, caught Katie and swung her around the kitchen. “I love you, Katie girl.”

  “I love you, too, Mommy. For ever and ever and ever.”

  BY THE TIME Lila dropped Katie off at school, she knew she had to make one stop before going to work, even though she and her granddad were in the midst of their busiest season of the year. The phone had been ringing constantly for weeks at Quinn Real Estate and Property Management with people looking to rent for the summer or to buy.

  She headed north on Main Street and turned into the Diner’s parking lot, checking out the other cars. She saw Bart’s Lincoln Town Car and Lou Goodman’s Plymouth. She scanned up and down the rows. Yup, there was the chief’s Ford. Doc Rosen’s Buick. Sam Parker’s van. It seemed
the regulars had already arrived.

  When she reached the entrance, she glanced briefly at the red-and-white sign on the door that proclaimed: Home of the ROMEOs. Despite the unnerving morning she’d already had, a grin emerged as she thought of those Retired Old Men Eating Out. And not a one of them truly retired yet. She doubted they understood what the word meant. And she knew for certain that they’d never retire from what they loved doing: keeping tabs on Pilgrim Cove.

  She waved to Dee O’Brien, the chief’s wife and the manager of the Diner, ignored her concerned expression, and continued to walk toward the ROMEOs’ table.

  The table was crowded. Lila studied the men she’d known all her life. Bart spotted her first and poked Sam, who shushed Lou, who motioned to Doc Rosen, who jabbed Chief O’Brien, who tapped his glass of water for attention. Which shut up Mike Lyons, Ralph Bigelow and Joe Cavelli. For the first time in the history of the ROMEOs, their table was fully occupied but silent. Eerily silent.

  Lila put her hands on her hips and looked at her granddad’s friends, men who’d watched her grow up, men who cared about her not only for Bart’s sake and not only because she was part of Pilgrim Cove. She knew they loved her for her own sake, too. She focused immediately on Sam’s worried expression.

  “Relax, everybody. I heard the song. I’m not falling to pieces. I’m a big girl, and you don’t have to protect me. In fact, you can’t.”

 

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