by Jane Toombs
The meal went well. Danny drooped early and eased into sleep without fussing. Which left her alone with Zed in the living room. “TV?” she said a bit too brightly.
He shook his head. “I need to talk to you. I couldn’t mention this to Joe Santoro because he’s convinced he didn’t make a mistake, that I have to be the man in the picture. But let me run this past you and see what you think.”
Karen sat in amazement as he told her how his grand-parents had refused to give him any information about his father. When he got to the possibility of a half brother, she had to admit it would explain the resemblance, and maybe the blood match.
“But how can you ever find out?” she asked when he was finished.
Zed sighed. “That’s the problem. All I can think of at this point is to hang around the marina.”
He looked so discouraged that she got up from her chair and moved to the couch, where he was sitting. At that moment she had no doubts about him, none at all. Putting her hand on his shoulder, she said, “If he exists, you’ll find him. If he doesn’t, I’m convinced you’ll still discover who the man in the photo is.”
He turned to her, his dark gaze holding her captive. “Joe warned me not to hurt you,” he said. “I wish I could promise I won’t.” And then he kissed her.
Chapter Six
Relaxing once she discovered Danny was safe and sound, Karen had found herself enjoying Zed’s presence. Never had her apartment seemed so welcoming. Basking in the friendly easiness of sharing simple tasks, she’d felt it was almost as though the three of them were a family.
Her imagination had pursued that thought. If they really were a family, Zed wouldn’t be getting into his car and driving to the marina tonight—they’d be sharing a bed. That realization had sent a tingle along her spine as she’d imagined cuddling into his embrace. The image had stayed with her as she listened to his concern over whether or not they’d ever find Danny’s father, and it had accompanied her from the chair to the couch when she’d joined him there in order to offer encouragement.
When he looked at her, she knew what would happen, but she did nothing to avoid his kiss. Instead of backing off, she melted into his arms, mingling the real with the fantasy. This is where I belong, she thought. I belong with Zed, held close to him, his lips on mine.
Did he feel the same way? Did he have this same sensation of oneness? She cut her wondering short, reminding herself their feelings couldn’t be compared, because they were different—she was a woman and he was a man.
Was he ever a man! Never had anyone aroused her in the manner he did. His lips, warm and compelling, urged her to abandon herself to the magic sizzling between them. His touch, skimming her breasts with a teasing caress, started her spiraling up and up, wanting more, needing more, caught in an erotic thermal of desire.
Enveloped in his clean, masculine scent, savoring his taste, her fingers entwined in his soft, dark curls, she longed to become a part of him. There might be reasons that she shouldn’t make love with him but, bemused as she was by his caresses, reasons didn’t matter.
“Zed, oh, Zed,” she murmured against his lips, all her longing translated into his name.
“Karen,” he whispered. “My beautiful Karen.” His lips trailed along her throat, making her quiver from the tingling deep inside.
He’d called her his. She hadn’t even considered that she might one day feel she belonged to any man, but she did right now. She was his. Completely his. And, for the moment, he was hers.
His hand slipped under her shirt to mold her breast through her bra. A tiny moan escaped her as his thumb slid over her nipple.
Pulling slightly away from her, he said, “If you want me to stop, it has to be now. You have to tell me now.” His voice, roughened by passion, increased the fire within her.
She didn’t want him to stop. Ever. And yet his words made her realize she was letting her emotions overpower her sense. Her body ruled, not her mind. Making love with Zed was not a good idea. Not while this uncertainty about him plagued her.
Sighing, she eased free. “We stop,” she said.
Letting her go completely, he nodded, then got to his feet. “Much as I want to stay, I’m off to my temporary home on the boat. Now.”
At the door she made a quick agreement to meet him at the marina around ten. “With a full picnic basket,” she added.
“Rain or shine?” he asked.
“Rain won’t stop us. My mother taught me young that I won’t melt, and I’m teaching the same thing to Danny.”
He leaned to her and her breath caught as she waited for his kiss. Instead, he touched the palm of his hand to her cheek. And then he was gone.
She took a deep breath and leaned against the closed door. So much for staying uninvolved. Not only had she and Zed advanced well along the lovemaking path but, if she didn’t know better, she’d say that earlier today she’d actually been jealous of Officer Lucy Kelly.
After transferring his belongings to the boat, Zed decided that, even though it was barely ten, he’d call it a day. He was tired—taking care of a baby was a hell of a lot tougher than he’d imagined. He called his sister to let her know about his new quarters, but she wasn’t home, so he left a message on her answering machine. Yawning, he crawled into the bunk and zonked out.
Feeling as alone as he’d ever been in his life, he walked through mist that hid his surroundings, making it impossible to orient himself. Although he had no idea where he was, he knew he must go on. Somewhere in the grayness was what he searched for. When he found it, whatever it was, he’d never be alone again.
How was he to find anything in this alien mist? His chances must be close to zero. Never mind the odds, the alternative was to remain incomplete, so he had no choice but to blunder on, even if it took forever.
Suddenly the terrain changed, only the mist remaining. Instead of solid ground under his feet, he felt the heaving deck of a boat weathering a blow. He was not at the tiller. Was anyone steering, or was he adrift, at the mercy of the wind? He thought he heard the deep bellow of a fog-horn but, as he strained his ears to locate the direction, the sound grew fainter, changing to a chant of meaningless syllables.
He became convinced he was aboard the Maddamti and that he must reach the tiller before disaster struck. The thick mist and the unsteady footing on the constantly tilting deck hampered his search, confusing him until he lost his sense of fore and aft. The clang of warning buoys tensed him. Out of the mist a voice spoke, neuter, neither male nor female.
“You’re on the wrong boat,” the voice said.
Of course he was—the Maddamti wasn’t his—but in this fog how was he to find the right boat? Or land. Or anything?
Lost, he was lost….
Zed woke with a start, for a moment not sure where he was. The gentle rocking beneath him, the slap of water against the hull and the patter of rain on wood above his head told him he was on a boat and that it was raining. Logic insisted he was in San Diego, so the boat had to be the Painted Lady, but shards of the dream cluttered his mind, disturbing him.
Don’t sweat it, he advised himself. The dream came from the boat rocking while he slept and the fact that he was here on a search. Or on a wild-goose chase, depending on how he looked at it. Yet the dream had a haunting familiarity, reminding him of others he’d had in the past. With an effort he threw off the dream’s cobwebs.
The gray light creeping through the portholes assured him it was morning, His watch said seven. He stretched and locked his hands behind his head, savoring the familiar feel of a boat moving beneath him, a sensation he truly enjoyed. If he ever did make love to Karen, he thought, here was the appropriate place.
Except making love to her anywhere was not a good idea. When he found the man in the photo, everything would be different. If he found the man…
Rather than lying around bogging down his mind with negative possibilities, Zed slid from the bunk and pulled on his clothes. Coffee time.
As he’d ex
pected, the marina was deserted. Nothing like rain to dampen a sailor’s enthusiasm. Accustomed to dropping in to a casino on the rare occasions when he ate breakfast out—casinos always offered fantastic meals at giveaway prices—he had to adjust his thinking to California prices when he found a café.
As a recent graduate to nonsmoking, he appreciated the clean air, though. The casinos still catered to smokers, and it was doubly hard to find he still yearned to light one up at the same time that he was resenting having to breathe secondhand smoke.
After he ate, to kill time until Karen arrived, he found a Laundromat and washed and dried his dirty clothes from the previous day. While he was there, one of the little kids running loose waiting for their mothers slipped and fell in front of him.
Seeing that the boy was undecided whether to cry or not, Zed realized he couldn’t be hurt. He picked him up and set him on his feet, noting the logo on his T-shirt. “What happened, Batman,” he said, “is that you forgot your cape. You know that cape keeps you from taking a fall?”
The kid stared at him, digesting this, all thought of crying forgotten, then ran to find his mother. Zed smiled. In a few months Danny would be running around, too.
The woman putting clothes in the dryer next to his said, “I can tell you’re a father. Single guys don’t pay any attention to kids.”
Rather than set her straight, he nodded politely, pulled his clothes from the dryer, slung them over his arm and exited. A father? He shook his head. No, not him. That was the guy he had to find.
Karen arrived a few minutes before ten, both she and Danny encased in plastic rainproofing. She ducked into the cabin, set down the picnic basket on the table and handed Danny to him. “You can peel him out of that slicker while I get rid of mine,” she said.
He sat on one of the benches by the table, enjoying her ease with him—she hadn’t bothered to say please. As if he really was the kid’s father and she was the mother, as if they belonged together.
Once Danny was free of his rainproofing, he twisted around and poked his finger into Zed’s mouth. “Da?” he said.
“He wants you to do something,” Karen translated, “but I haven’t the slightest idea what.”
After a moment’s thought Zed recalled how he’d whistled to the boy the day before. He launched into “Barnacle Bill the Sailor.” Danny grinned, rocking back and forth on his lap.
“Oh, great,” Karen said. “Now he’ll probably expect me to do it, and I can’t whistle for shucks.” She glanced around. “Rather close quarters, but nice. Very nice.”
“She’s a beautiful boat,” Zed said, abandoning the whistling, at the same time handing Danny a toy he’d bought in a novelty store on the way back to the boat—a rubber duck that quacked when squeezed.
Noting what he’d done, Karen said, “You catch on fast.”
“The kid’s a good teacher. I’ve learned a lot about distraction techniques. Now, about the boat. I’m taking her owner sailing tomorrow if the weather clears. There’s plenty of room for you and Danny—why don’t you come along? George won’t mind.”
“Maybe. Let me think about it.” She pointed to the made-up bunk. “Is that where you sleep?”
He nodded and said, “Where I slept and dreamed. A really strange one.” He regretted the confession as soon as the words were out. Dreams were meant to be kept private, not aired abroad to bore everyone except maybe shrinks.
“I dreamed, too.” Almost immediately Karen flushed, looking as though she wished she could take the admission back.
Her reaction gave her away. Hoping he’d been the man involved, he smiled, wishing his dream had been an erotic one with Karen in it instead of a near nightmare.
They talked and played with Danny until he decided he was hungry. Once fed and changed, the boy grew drowsy. Karen laid him on the bunk and Zed made a barricade of pillows to keep him from rolling off.
“It’s cosy in here,” Karen said, “with the rain drumming on the roof. No, not the roof—what’s above us is called the deck, isn’t it? And this rocking motion is so soothing I feel like crawling in beside Danny and taking a nap. Not that you’re putting me to sleep,” she added hastily.
He grinned across the table at her. “Must be the sandman’s come aboard, because I was just thinking about a nap myself.” He didn’t add that nap might not be exactly the right word, though he was certainly interested in lying down. With Karen in his arms.
“Would you like another cookie?” she asked, pushing the plate toward him.
“Thanks.” He took one, saying, “Poor Tiger, forced to eat those bland things when you make chocolate chip cookies to die for. I notice you put oatmeal in them like my grandmother used to do. It’s the only way.”
“Healthier,” she told him. “Or so I try to convince myself when I eat too many. Erin was allergic to chocolate, so I intend to keep it away from Danny as long as possible in case he inherited her sensitivity.” She sighed. “I miss her, and I feel sad that she didn’t live to watch her son grow and thrive.”
“From what you’ve told me, Erin seemed to be one of those people who live for the moment, letting the future take care of itself. Do you think she’d have made a good mother?”
“People do change,” she said defensively.
“Not a lot, once they’re adults. If your cousin had lived, I’ll bet she’d have parked Danny with you half the time.”
“Probably,” Karen admitted. “Unless she contacted his father and he took over.”
“He’s out there somewhere,” Zed said. “Erin, though, had the advantage of knowing his name. We don’t.”
Why was he going on about Erin and the search for Danny’s father? What he wanted, what he needed was Karen. In his arms. In his bed. Which they’d have to share with Danny at the moment. Inconvenient, if not impossible. And that was just as well.
Partly to distract himself and partly because he was truly interested, he asked her about teaching, working backward to her earlier life.
“You’re lucky to have a sister not too far removed in age,” she said after she’d talked for a while about her family. “You and Jade can share things. My half brother, Steve—Dad’s son by his first wife, who died—is twelve years older than I am. We’re friends, but the age gap was too great for us to become close. Without asking if I needed any, Steve sent money to help me out when I came back from the Caribbean with Danny. He’s never uttered one word of criticism about me taking Danny, either.”
“Soui.Js like one of the good guys.”
She nodded. “Actually, he’s the only male I know who didn’t take Erin up on her offer when she came on to him. I don’t know that she ever spoke to him again. She hated rejection. Of course, she was only fifteen at the time.”
“She must have started young.”
“From the cradle, my dad used to say. But I think he and my mom both knew Erin was really looking for love and thought she could find it in sex. You can’t, you know.”
Was she referring to them? Her blue eyes, gazing at him, seemed guileless. “There’s nothing wrong with sex,” he said, “providing the two people involved have enough sense to recognize the dangers.”
“And they don’t mistake sex for love,” she added.
“That, too,” he conceded, wondering if she was offering a subtle warning about them, a warning whose meaning wasn’t quite clear. No sex without love? Or was it don’t expect love with sex?
He didn’t need the warning. He’d loved his grandparents, he loved his sister but, looking back at the girls and women he’d been attracted to, he couldn’t say he’d been in love with any of them. He hadn’t expected any of them to love him, either, though some had claimed they did. As for no sex without love—he shook his head, not caring to touch that with a ten-foot pole.
Apparently feeling the conversation needed to be shifted to a less intimate subject, Karen said, “Jade told me she runs the family drilling company because you opted out. I know you’re an engineer—what didn’t you li
ke about drilling?”
“Everything,” Zed answered. “The drilling itself is too mechanical and the office part is boring. I’m a graduate engineer because I didn’t want to disappoint my grandfather, and I stayed with the company for the same reason until he died. But my bent isn’t machines—it’s animals and farming. I was meant to be a rancher in the same way Jade was born to drill wells. She loves what she calls the creativity of bringing water where it’s needed, and she also dotes on every last old drilling rig in the yard, operative or not, insisting she’ll get around to fixing them some day.”
“Awesome.”
He nodded. “Her company’s not the largest in the state, but Northern Nevada Drilling is widely respected. To date, Jade’s brought in every well she’s been hired to dig.”
Karen listened to him, admiring his respect for his sister’s abilities, contrasting it to the way she sometimes felt about her half brother. Steve was successful in the sense that he made lots of money, but he never told her—or anyone—exactly what he was successful at. All she knew was he worked for the government. Their father thought he was the greatest thing on two feet.
The fact she was a successful, dedicated teacher didn’t impress, her dad at all. Her father seemed to equate success with money and, God knows, on a teacher’s salary she’d never have much.
This was their father’s problem, not hers or Steve’s, but sometimes she had to remind herself not to resent her half brother.
“I really do love him,” she said.
Looking startled, Zed asked, “Who?”
“I was thinking about Steve. He travels a lot—it’s been ages since I’ve seen him.” She glanced toward the bunk. “It’s not as easy as it used to be to pack up and go visiting.”
“After yesterday, I can appreciate what you mean.” He started to reach for her hand, hesitated and picked up the yellow toy duck instead. “Karen,” he said, “we’ve got a problem, and I don’t mean Danny.”
Aware of exactly what he meant, she also knew there was no immediate solution. Covering her ears with her hands, she said, “No, don’t tell me. I don’t want to hear about any problem other than finding Danny’s father.”