Carolina Man (A Dare Island Novel)

by Virginia Kantra

  “Sure,” Luke said, relieved.

  JD had been banned from the fishing expedition because none of the Sea Lady’s life vests was small enough to fit the puppy. If having the dog along made up for missing a boat ride, Luke could square things with his mom.

  “Okay.” Taylor accepted this change of plan, scrambling up on a stool to eat her breakfast. “How come?”

  “Miss Kate’s coming over this afternoon.”

  Those big eyes fixed on his face. “Why?”

  Luke considered his reply. He could go with the truth—she’s bringing Snowball—but he didn’t want to spoil Kate’s surprise. On the other hand, he didn’t want Taylor to worry. Even at ten, she knew a visit from a lawyer was not good news. “She just wants to see us.”

  “You saw her last night.”

  “Yeah, but she wants to see you.”

  Taylor dug her spoon in her cereal. “Josh says Miss Kate is hot.”

  His nephew had good eyes. And a big mouth. “Josh talks too much.”

  Taylor looked at him from under the brim of her hat. “At least he tells me things.”

  Ouch. “I tell you things,” Luke said.

  Taylor ate cereal.

  He exhaled, leaning against the counter. “What do you want to know?”

  “Is she your girlfriend?”

  How did he answer that in a way a ten-year-old would understand? Or that Kate would accept? She was . . . Kate. Special. Why did that need a name?

  “I like her,” he said. “I’d like to see more of her. Does that bother you?”

  “No, I like her, too. She was nice when I had to go to court.” Taylor’s voice was matter-of-fact, but her eyes were anxious in her thin face.

  He’d seen that guarded look before in dozens of towns, hundreds of kids’ faces. The eyes of a child who had seen too much, who had been forced to grow up too fast. It shook him, that look on his child’s face.

  He had to do a better job of taking care of her.

  “You don’t have to go to court again,” he said, trying to reassure her. “Everything’s going to be okay now.”

  Taylor slid him another sidelong glance. “I know. But if you had to go away again, Miss Kate could help watch me.”

  He studied his daughter’s down-bent head, trying to find his place in this conversation. “There are lots of people who love you and can help take care of you.”

  “Yeah, but Miss Kate’s a lawyer. And,” Taylor added with devastating simplicity, “she knew Mom.”

  Luke’s heart clenched like a fist in the center of his chest. Taylor needed as many connections with her mother as she could get. Maybe he ought to reach out to the Simpsons after all.

  Unless you’re bringing Taylor back, I got nothing to say to you, Jolene had said.

  So that was kind of a dead end, at least until the hearing on Tuesday.

  He poured more coffee, wishing he had a cigarette to go with it.

  When he’d first learned of Taylor’s existence, he’d been disbelieving. Okay, not simply disbelieving, he admitted. More like shocked and resentful. He liked his life just fine. He loved being a Marine. He didn’t need a life lesson in responsibility.

  But there was no way he could turn his back on Dawn’s dying request. He’d returned home determined to do the right thing. Even then, he’d seen Taylor as an obligation, not a person in her own right. He wasn’t prepared for this feeling that had ambushed him, deeper than instinct, this determination to protect her, this need to take care of her.

  She’s wonderful, Luke. The best thing that ever happened to me. I feel bad because you haven’t had a chance to see her, how special she is.

  Well, now he’d met her. His daughter. Now he knew.

  Now he just had to make sure he was the dad she deserved.

  • • •

  “KATE DOLAN. HERE?” His mother turned from the stand mixer, spatula in hand, to face Luke. “That’s the reason you didn’t go with your father and the boys? You should have told me. This place is a mess.”

  By his mother’s standards, maybe. To Luke’s eyes, the Pirates’ Rest could pass a field day inspection.

  He shrugged sheepishly. “I’m telling you now. It’s not that big a deal.”

  “Not a big deal when one of my sons invites a girl home?”

  “Ma, it’s not like that.”

  Tess narrowed her eyes. Heat flushed the tips of his ears. His mother could usually see through them all. But she could hardly grill him now with Taylor standing at the counter, taking in every word.

  “Fine. Go check the powder room. Guest soaps out, toilet seat down. And it wouldn’t hurt for you to run the vacuum in the family room. I swear that Christmas tree drops needles every time I look at it.”

  He kissed the top of her head. “The house looks fine. The tree looks great.”

  “Powder room. Oh, Luke.” Her eyes misted.

  Luke knew where her mind was going. With Matt finally happy with Allison, and Meg reunited with Sam, he was next in line for the whole happily-ever-after deal. His parents had been married for so long that his mother thought everybody should march two-by-two, like animals onto the ark.

  But all she said was, “She’s a nice girl.”

  He cocked a smile at her. “She’s a lawyer.”

  His mother glanced around the gleaming kitchen, obviously cataloguing every item that was in use or out of place, as though Kate were coming over to critique her housekeeping. “I’m in the middle of baking,” she said somewhat helplessly.

  Luke grinned. “So give her a cookie.”

  His mom melted. He knew she would. She always did.

  Meg blew in the back door with her laptop under one arm and a grocery bag in the other. “Give who a cookie?”

  Taylor looked up from sifting flour into the big blue bowl. “Miss Kate is coming.”

  Meg stopped dead. “What’s wrong?” she asked, instantly protective.

  Luke bit back another grin. He was almost thirty, a combat veteran, and his big sister still looked out for him as if they were on the playground. “Nothing.”

  “Then why is she coming?”

  “Nothing to do with the hearing,” he amended.

  “She wants to see us,” Taylor said.

  Meg set the groceries on the counter. “I repeat, why?”

  Because she fucked my brains out and I forgot the cat sprang to mind. But it wasn’t like that.

  It was . . . He didn’t know what it was. Something different. Something special.

  Something to think about.

  “I’m going to clean the powder room,” he said and escaped.

  • • •

  “HIS EARS ARE red. What’s going on?” Aunt Meg asked, unloading lemons and walnuts from the bag. “Taylor?”

  Taylor concentrated on her sifting. She liked Aunt Meg, but she liked Miss Kate, too. So did Dad. Taylor was pretty sure that Miss Kate was kind of like his girlfriend now, even though he hadn’t said so. But she wasn’t sure how much she was supposed to know or what she was supposed to say.

  Everybody has secrets, she thought, and felt cold.

  From the corner of her eye, she saw Grandma shake her head.

  “What?” Aunt Meg batted her eyes innocently. “You think I would pump my ten-year-old niece for dirt on my brother?”

  “Yes,” Tess and Taylor said at the same time.

  Meg laughed. “Yeah, okay. But only because I care.”

  “I’ll take those lemons now,” Grandma said.

  “Fine.” Aunt Meg zipped around the kitchen like a wasp, quick and buzzy, bumping into things. “You want me to zest them?”

  “Do you have time? Don’t you have work to do?” Grandma asked.

  Aunt Meg had her own company. She worked really hard and she traveled a lot.

  “It’s two weeks before Christmas.” Aunt Meg slipped out of her shoes and hugged Grandma. Carefully, because of Grandma’s hip. “Nothing’s happening in New York until after the holidays, and Sam’s off doin
g manly-men bonding stuff. I want to bake cookies with my mommy.” She winked at Taylor. “And my favorite niece.”

  Taylor ducked her head, a lump in her throat. She concentrated hard on the sifter, shaking it back and forth, back and forth, until the mountain of flour in the bowl cracked in the middle and ran down the sides like an avalanche.

  She missed Mom.

  She loved Aunt Meg and Grandma Tess and the puppy snoozing in Fezzik’s usual spot under the table. But they weren’t Mom. Nothing took the place of her mother.

  Her chest ached and her wrist hurt a little as she shook the sifter, back and forth.

  Last Christmas, Mom bought long tubes of sugar cookie dough already colored inside with pictures of trees and Frosty the Snowman. The snowmen had burned on the bottom, but her mother didn’t care. She just laughed until Taylor giggled, too, and they’d covered everything with sprinkles and icing. Taylor’s eyes stung. She could remember the icing—bright blue and white—but she couldn’t see her mother’s face anymore, not exactly. She couldn’t remember her laugh.

  The doorbell rang. Taylor heard her dad’s footsteps in the hall as she tried to make the picture perfect in her head, the memory of her mom laughing, but everything was jerky and silent like a movie with the sound turned off. She had a photo of her mom now in a special frame by her bed, and that was better than nothing, but it wasn’t the same, it wasn’t alive . . .

  A fat tear rolled down Taylor’s nose and went plop into the flour.

  “Kate is here,” Grandma said.

  And then her dad’s voice said, “She brought you something,” and Taylor looked up, and there was Miss Kate, standing in the doorway of the kitchen with Snowball in her arms.

  Thirteen

  TAYLOR’S THIN FACE turned white, then red. Her mouth opened, but no sound escaped.

  Kate’s heart stuttered. Maybe she’d made a terrible mistake. Maybe this wasn’t Snowball. Maybe . . .

  “Snowball,” Taylor whispered, and burst into tears.

  “Snowball?” Meg said.

  Kate jerked forward, jolted into action. “She’s here. She’s yours.”

  Taylor extended graceless arms. Kate shifted her hold, hunching over to support Snowball’s weight as Taylor took the cat, sinking down with both of them on to the kitchen floor.

  The cat squirmed once and then subsided into Taylor’s arms, pushing its flat heat in a feline caress against her chin.

  Taylor cried, cradling the cat to her chest.

  “Hey. Hey, baby.” Luke dropped beside them, scooping Taylor onto his lap. Her straight blond hair, her elbows and knees stuck out at all angles. Tears streaked her face.

  Happy tears? Or cleansing ones. Kate eased back onto her heels, prepared to give them a moment together.

  And Taylor’s hand shot out and grabbed her hand, holding tight.

  Kate’s throat filled. Carefully, she squeezed back.

  “It’s okay.” Luke met Kate’s gaze over Taylor’s head. If he was panicked by his daughter’s crying jag, he didn’t let on. His face was as impassive as a Marine’s on the parade ground, but his hand, as he stroked his daughter’s hair, trembled slightly.

  Kate melted helplessly.

  The puppy danced closer, drawn by Taylor’s tears, desperately trying to join the cat in her lap.

  Luke blocked the dog with one arm, keeping the other around his daughter. “She’ll be fine in a minute. She’s tough.”

  Taylor caught her breath on a sob, choking back tears.

  Tess made a movement, rapidly checked.

  Men.

  “She will not be fine,” Kate said with a fierceness that surprised everybody. Herself most of all. “She doesn’t need to be tough. She can cry all she wants.”

  Tess gave a tiny nod of approval.

  “It was just a surprise,” Luke said.

  “You don’t need to apolo— Wait,” Kate said. She rocked back, her gaze sweeping the kitchen. “You mean you didn’t tell her?”

  “I told her you were coming. Not about the cat,” Luke said.

  “Don’t look at me,” Meg said. “Nobody told me anything.”

  None of that mattered now, Kate thought. Nothing mattered but Taylor.

  The little girl sniffed mightily and released Kate’s hand. Her thin face was blotchy with tears, her skinny arms still wrapped around the cat.

  Kate’s heart constricted and then swelled. She was used to single parents and crying children. She saw them in her office every week. She sat behind her desk and dispensed tissues and candy and legal advice.

  Only this time, her usual remedies weren’t enough. Even Snowball wasn’t enough.

  She didn’t know what else she had to offer.

  Taylor sat up, pushing her hair from her face.

  “Taylor,” Luke prompted quietly. “Was there something you wanted to say?”

  Taylor smiled wanly at Kate. “Thank you.”

  Kate swallowed. “You’re welcome.”

  Taylor looked from Luke to Tess. “Can we keep her?”

  Tess smiled. “That’s up to your dad.”

  “Damn straight,” Luke said.

  “What about JD?”

  “JD is used to cats. Plenty of kittens on base and in the shelter. You just have to give them both lots of attention. Once JD figures out that Snowball is part of the pack, they’ll be fine.”

  “The vet said to let the cat control their interaction,” Kate offered. “As long as she has freedom to retreat and hide, she won’t feel so threatened.”

  Luke smiled at her slowly. “You sure the vet was talking about the cat?”

  Kate narrowed her eyes. “She also suggested a leash.”

  Meg snorted with laughter.

  Luke pulled out a bandanna to mop his daughter’s tears. The tenderness of his gesture stole Kate’s breath.

  “Why don’t you all sit down in the family room? Put on a movie,” Tess said. “That way JD and Snowball can get used to each other while you can keep an eye on things.”

  “Works for me. You want to pick out the movie?” Luke asked Taylor.

  She nodded and scrambled to her feet, still cradling Snowball. The puppy jumped up, too.

  “Quit,” Luke ordered, and JD plopped down.

  “I’ll be back,” Taylor promised—her father? the puppy?—and crossed the bright, warm kitchen to the family room that extended off one end.

  A big flat-screen TV was flanked by shelves of books. Bold, cozy cushions padded a worn leather sofa. Sparkling white lights and handmade ornaments crowded the Christmas tree. It looked like heaven. It looked like a home.

  “Well.” Kate swallowed and got to her feet, hugging her arms. It wasn’t the cat she had exposed to danger by coming here. Look, don’t touch. “I should go.”

  Taylor turned. “But you just got here.”

  “At least wait until the cookies come out of the oven,” Tess said.

  “We need you,” Luke said.

  For a moment, she let herself yearn and believe. “For what?”

  “Buffer zone.”

  Kate looked at the puppy, who had given up its role as cowed orphan to stalk Meg’s feet across the floor, and then at the cat, wary but content in Taylor’s arms. At least I got that right, she thought with satisfaction. She could hold on to that when she was alone in her apartment.

  “I think you’ve got the situation under control.”

  He looked into her eyes. “Stay. Please.”

  Heat pulsed inside her. Warmth suffused her skin. He wanted her. And she wanted . . . Too much. She could feel herself being drawn in, deeper and deeper, until she lost her balance. Until her desire to belong rose up and choked her. She didn’t belong here.

  But there was no place else she wanted to be.

  Which is how she found herself sitting with Luke on the fat brown leather sofa, Taylor between them, watching Miracle on 34th Street.

  The jaunty opening music played as that nice old man, Kris Kringle, strolled down the streets of New Y
ork and into Macy’s. Taylor sighed and settled against Kate’s side, nearly displacing Snowball. The puppy yawned and rested his head on Luke’s thigh. Kate let herself ease into the cushions, relaxing by degrees, breathing in the lemony smell of the baking cookies and the scent of the Christmas tree.

  Luke stretched his muscled arm along the back of the couch, his fingers brushing the ends of her hair, and a pleasant shiver chased down her spine.

  “That’s the movie Taylor picked?” Meg muttered behind her. “Jeez.”

  “Meg.” Tess hushed her.

  Kate frowned. What was wrong with Taylor’s choice? Okay, the movie was kind of hokey. And in black-and-white. But Miracle on 34th Street was a classic, one of her favorites, a charming fantasy about a little girl who needs to believe and wishes for a house and a family . . .

  Oh. She looked down at Taylor, leaning confidingly against her arm, and up at Luke. The reflection from the television made his eyes seem to glow with their own warm blue light.

  Her breath went. Yes, she thought. And then, Oh, no.

  She turned her head and stared fixedly at the screen, but her mind wasn’t focused on the movie anymore.

  The more you relied on someone, the more they could hurt you. Disappoint you. Kate could not encourage Taylor to become attached to her. To depend on her. Her relationship with Luke hovered somewhere between temporary and nonexistent. Who knew where it would go? Or when Luke would go. He was an active-duty Marine. He was leaving.

  Life wasn’t like Hollywood or fairy tales. There were no guaranteed happy endings.

  Kate squirmed on the leather sofa as Maureen O’Hara argued with her handsome neighbor.

  It was one thing to risk her own heart and peace of mind on an untested attraction. Quite another to risk Taylor’s. The child had loved and lost too much already. She was happy with the Fletchers. She had a home and family. It would be irresponsible of Kate to encourage her to form a superficial attachment to her dad’s temporary girlfriend.

  A real house, said movie Susie, and Kate died a little inside.

  As soon as this movie was over, she was out of here.

  • • •

  LUKE DIDN’T GET it. One minute everything was fine. Damn near perfect, in fact, everybody happy and comfortable on the couch watching the movie—okay, Kate and Taylor were watching the movie. He’d been more interested in watching Kate. She’d looked so cute, absorbed in the story, her eyes as wide and shiny as Taylor’s, the rings of silky hair on the back of her neck making him want to touch. Stretching his arm across the back of the couch like he was Josh’s age again, plotting his moves on his parents’ sofa. Even with his daughter and the dog and the cat between them, it felt good simply to be with her. It felt solid and real and right.