“I promised your father I wouldn’t speak of our arrangement to anyone. I kept my word.”
Keko’s jaw dropped, then her words came out as a croak. “You did what?
Arrangement? What arrangement?”
“John is gone now. It cannot matter to him.” Aolina stepped closer to Keko, both hands flat on the hospital bed. Her dark eyes blazed.
“I loved him so much. That’s right, I loved your father. Is that so difficult for you to believe? I loved him more than you can possibly imagine. Yes, I knew he was a Navy SEAL. I was young and foolish, too much in love to realize what that meant, him being a SEAL. In the end, I could not be the dutiful Navy wife he needed me to be. I did not have the strength to hold us together.”
The tears pooled, then raced down her flawless cheeks. “The panic every time he left. The panic when I was young, pregnant, alone at the Navy base. I could not be brave, could not be strong. I went home to my family. John understood. He agreed.”
Keko slumped against her pillow. Stunned. “Why didn’t he tell me any of this? I thought you dumped me.”
“We agreed never to speak of it. After you were born, I continued my art studies with the full support of my family—as well as John’s support. We didn’t divorce while he stayed with the SEALs, so you and I would receive benefits. When he finally left the Navy and joined the private sector, I agreed to send you to him. Then we divorced, and I signed over full custody. That was our deal. I kept my end of the bargain.”
“And I was the chess piece?” Totally deflated by her mother’s admission, Keko felt no emotion. “Perhaps the pawn? Mother’s bargaining chip against future needs?”
Aolina moved to Keko’s bedside, gently took her damaged hand. “Kailani, darling, it wasn’t like that. We loved you, hoped to do the best we could for you. You wanted to be with your father. So young you were, so stubborn. You would accept no compromise—so much like your father. He promised to leave the SEALs, to keep you safe. He kept part of the bargain by leaving the Navy. I did not agree to allow you to be brought up with demolitions and devastation. That was not part of our arrangement.”
“You can’t blame Dad for that; that’s how he made his living. That’s how he paid for a beautiful home for me, paid for the finest tutors. I had an aptitude for his work; everyone said I was a natural.” At least, that’s what I’ve been told since I was twelve. By everyone who mattered to me.
“So, now you lay in a trauma unit after a bomb blast nearly takes your life, and may leave you permanently crippled. Excuse me if I don’t consider that to be a fair trade.”
What the fuck? Permanently crippled? MacBride forgot to mention that part.
“Mother, do you have any real notion of what that bomb blast accomplished? No, of course not—and I am not permitted to tell you. Just understand that I would have gladly given my life, if that’s what it would have taken to stop the horror intended if those bombs reached their targets.”
Keko was fading, fast. “Don’t you understand? I need to do what I do. I’m good at it. Actually, I’m great at it.”
“And your kane, Kailani, your young man? Where does he fit in? An officer of the law? Every time he leaves, it could be the last time you see him. Are you prepared for that? And your children? Imagine telling them, through your tears of grief, that their father was gunned down, he will not be coming home ever again. Or imagine your sheriff gathering up your own daughter, your own son, in his arms. ‘Oh, I am so sorry, your mother will not be coming home. She was just blown to bits, and I am afraid there are not enough pieces to bury her decently. Closed casket, of course.’”
Aolina had worked herself into a real frenzy, her usually soft, melodic voice oddly sharp, harsh. “Do you love him enough? Will he love you as much when he realizes the both of you cannot stay in bed forever? The sex and passion will wane; reality will rear its hideous Hydra heads. Will the love be strong enough to hold you together in the harsh light of truth?”
The door opened. MacBride closed it quietly behind him. He moved to Keko’s side, laid his hand gently on her shoulder. “Sorry for eavesdropping. Ma’am, I think those are our decisions to make. And yes, I love your crazy daughter enough to make our weird relationship work.”
Aolina backed away, wiped the tears from her face with a delicate handkerchief.
She gazed at the pair before her, shook her head once, then went silent.
“Mother, I believe our discussion is over. Aloha, I wish you well. May your trip be peaceful and uneventful. I don’t believe we need to see each other again.” The pain ramped up, the morphine drip kicked in, then Keko began to sink once again into blessed oblivion. “MacBride, did you just tell my mother that you love me?”
“I thought I should, since you admitted it first when you tricked me into leaving you. As my ass bolted from the shed you deemed necessary to destroy.”
“I couldn’t remember if I said it out loud. The words needed to be released into the universe, if I was going to be blown to kingdom come. Although I’m sure one device would have done the job, I sorta had to use what was at hand, in case the bad dudes split up the bombs. Both or none.”
Aolina Hualami—acclaimed artist, brilliant sculptor, failed mother—shook her head, her expression sad. “Both of you are insane. As was Keko’s father, who shall remain, for eternity, the love of my life.”
She gently took Keko’s hand and kissed her daughter’s abraded fingers. “I hope it will be enough to see you through when the passion fades. Aloha, my child.”
She removed herself gracefully from the room.
Aloha, Mother. Goodbye.
Chapter Fifteen
Friday morning, a week later
“How is this going to work, if I stay here?”
Using the resin cast on her right hand and wrist, Keko pressed the joystick on the motorized wheelchair, took the chair for a lap around the leather furniture groupings in Sanctuary’s great room like she was a road rally driver. She bumped into only one sofa, two chairs, and an end table.
“I have a business in Boston. We have projects on hold. I have employees who expect me to look out for them so they can pay their bills. I need to bring the business in so I can pay them, so they are able to pay their bills.”
“Not to worry. Kamaka’s been holed up in the satcom center, has everything under control.” Lorelei placed a glass of cold lemonade with a straw in the wheelchair’s cup holder. “Lucian is working with Glennon Garrett to integrate your communication system with ours, so you and Kamaka can video stream to your Boston office in real time. It will seem as if you were standing in your own office.”
“Wouldn’t it be easier for everyone if I went home, so I was standing in my own office?” Depending on others grated on Keko’s sense of independence, made her restless.
Lorelei chuckled. “You’re not ready to go home. It’s either here, or rehab. You might as well give in to it. Relax, enjoy being spoiled while you can. The royal treatment won’t last forever.”
She walked over to a wide door tucked cattycorner under the balcony, slid the pocket door into the wall. “Check this out. Here’s your ride.”
When Lorelei stepped aside with a Vanna White sweep of her arm, Keko saw a motorized lift, an elevator to the gallery level.
“Neat, isn’t it? Apparently, when the camp was in full swing, broken legs were enough of an issue during ski season to have this beauty installed. It will certainly help when my belly grows and I’m waddling around like a water buffalo.”
Keko couldn’t imagine Lorelei ever waddling under any condition, but she appreciated the other woman’s attempts to make her feel comfortable with the situation.
With her left foot in a cast and both hands still out of commission, she couldn’t even manage crutches. She had to admit that, although her dad’s house was spacious, the floor plan wasn’t as conveniently set up as the lodge’s.
Lorelei headed for the kitchen, spoke over her shoulder. “And then there’s MacBride.”
Yes. And then there’s MacBride.
* * * * *
Thursday morning, a week later
And then there’s MacBride. When she awoke the next morning, the refrain would not fade away. What to do about MacBride? Keko parked her wheelchair by the knee-to-ceiling windows that allowed magnificent light, as well as a magnificent view, into the great room. Next best thing to being outdoors.
No one shirked duties at the lodge, so chores kept everyone busy. Apparently, a new roster of clients would overtake Sanctuary in a few days. Keko felt useless, but there really wasn’t anything she could do, with one foot still in a cast. Her wrists had been freed from their resin traps, but they were still in braces. She forced herself to be as self-sufficient as possible by using the wheelchair. Adam offered his giant open shower with the spray handle so she could rinse off and do her hair. After bags were taped over the cast, of course.
And then there’s MacBride. Keko managed to stand, using the back of the wheelchair seat as a support for her bent elbows. She gently swung the casted leg fore and aft, doing thirty reps at a time, to keep the circulation moving.
It had been a real eye-opener to realize that, other than Kamaka, Lorelei Randall stepped up as her only real friend. And her only female friend. A woman she’d known less than three weeks. I must be a pitiful choice as friendship material.
It was a no-brainer to realize Lorelei stood firmly in MacBride’s camp, as did Adam and Lucian. So, what’s the problem? Keko settled in the wheelchair, raised the leg support for her injured foot when it began to throb. The guy is handsome, intelligent, totally buff, employed, comes without girlfriend baggage. Her hoo-hah tingled as she mentally added his bedroom skills to his list of attributes. And he certainly does have skills in that department.
Aolina’s comments circled Keko’s brain, like Santa’s Express train stuck circling a Christmas tree. Will he love you as much when he realizes you cannot stay in bed forever? The sex and passion will wane, reality will rear its hideous serpent’s head. Will the love be strong enough … ?
Do I really love him? Do I love him enough?
* * * * *
Mac had been hangin’ tough since the explosion, keeping himself in SEAL
Tactical Yellow Alert mode, for the sake of self-preservation. He didn’t consider the what-ifs or why-fors, didn’t think of the could-have-beens. SEAL alert meant that he didn’t imagine how Keko’s body would have looked, had the heavy wooden door not protected her.
He kept everything under surveillance; everything out of the norm was suspect, no matter how inconsequential. Tactical plans of offense and defense ran through his head, and he planned accordingly. He automatically scanned areas where an enemy could hide, could attack, or which could support a firing position. He had a keen interest in alternate offensive and defensive positions. Being in SEAL mode safeguarded his sanity. But he wasn’t in the SEALs any more. He didn’t have his team.
After surprisingly tender lovemaking in his bed at Sanctuary the night before, Keko had curled against him, instead of their usual spooning. He was on his back; her face snuggled against his shoulder, her damaged hands folded against her own chest.
Her casted foot was out of the way. He’d slid an arm under her shoulders to hold her close; his fingers played with her hair. He folded his other arm under his head.
Mac had moved to Catamount Lake to get away from the horror of death. Away from war. Moved to this quiet community with its forthright people, people who accepted him even though he wasn’t a born and bred New Englander. A quiet place where there had been no capital crimes for over a century.
Keko is safe. That’s all that matters.
He knew it was a lie. There was so much more that mattered. The leviathans of his memory, monsters that had once sounded and gone deep, were returning to the surface, breaching the surface into the light of day.
* * * * *
Sunday morning
After MacBride slipped out early for work, the sound of voices drew Keko downstairs to the kitchen.
“This is so totally unlike him, and you know that as well as I do.” Abigail had lifted a coffee mug to her lips when she saw Keko. Lorelei sat across the table from Abigail, her back against the dish cupboards.
Keko headed for the coffee pot. “I’m coming late to the conversation. Unlike whom, exactly?”
Lorelei hesitated. Abigail did not.
“Mac.”
Keko felt her gut clench.
“What about him?”
Abigail kicked back in her chair. “He’s wandering around with his head so far up his ass that he’ll never see daylight again, that’s what. I … we … strongly suspect it has something to do with you.”
The mug didn’t spill a drop as Keko carefully placed it back on the counter. “Me?
Why me?”
“Girl, you can deny it until the cows come home—if we had any cows. The man is smitten. When you’re both in the same room, the air crackles with sexual sparks like you guys were Tesla coils. He hasn’t been right since he came back from L.A.”
“But … .”
Lorelei tapped her fingernails against the table. “Keek, I hate to jump in here, but Abigail’s right. Mac is absolutely bonkers, head over heels in love with you. Well, at least, in lust. I’ll withhold judgment on the love part. He might still be in denial over that. He’s even making Adam and Lucian edgy, and they’re usually of the live-and-let-live camp. Lucian slipped up, so I know the three of them partied together for years.
Seriously partied.”
Keko pulled out a chair, slumped into the seat. “So, what can I do? You both know him. What should I do?”
Abigail shrugged. “Fuck his brains out. Go home to Boston. Pick up the pieces of your life and get on with it.”
Lorelei looked surprised at her friend’s comeback. Wide-eyed surprised. “Damn, girlfriend, that’s a bit harsh even for you, don’t you think?”
“Yeah, well, it might be. But the simple plan saves time, not to mention heartache and emotional wear and tear.”
Abigail headed for the refrigerator. “Is there any of Lucian’s key lime pie left?”
She turned to Keko. “Nothing like the real thing. Lucian is a purist. He refuses to use anything except genuine Mexican limes that his mother sends up from the Carolinas.
Mama Duquesne has a secret supplier across the border—she trades quilting patterns in exchange for the little green fruit.”
“Abigail, you can’t drop a bomb like that, then segue to key lime pie recipes.”
The game warden sliced the pie into sections, pulled out dessert plates from one of the dish cupboards, grabbed dessert forks from a drawer. “Look, all I’m saying is that you need to face up to the attraction. Then either embrace it, or end it. Get the fuck rid of it.”
Abigail hit Keko with a direct gaze. She ticked points off on her fingers. “Are you attracted? I’m guessing, yes. Do you want to shag like super-rabbits? Yes, again. Superb shagging aside, will you leave your business in Boston and move to Maine to be with Mac? Do you plan to relocate to Catamount Lake? Is he going to jump ship to join the Boston PD?”
Words would not come forth as Keko’s throat tightened up. Give up her business?
Relocate? Nothing was said about relocating.
“Abigail, I think you’re reading way too much into the situation.”
“Am I? Can you honestly deny your attraction to Mac?”
“Attraction is not the point.”
“Attraction definitely is the point. Mac can’t function when you’re around, and it appears you have the same problem. At least, according to Chandler.”
Keko covered her face with her hands, then peeked at the two women between her fingers. “Oh, crap, please tell me you’re not serious. Chandler knows?”
A forkful of pie poised halfway to Lorelei’s mouth. “Everyone knows.”
” Aw, hell.”
Abigail shoveled another piece of pie into her mouth, while s
he considered. “I mean, Mac is a total fox, so it’s perfectly understandable. I’ll bet even Kamaka has the hots for him.”
Keko shook her head, looked up. “This is going from bad to worse. And yes, Kamaka agrees with the whole fox thing.”
She tried the pie, more to buy time than because she had the urge to choke down dessert. “Okay, Lorelei is obviously not up for grabs, but what about you and MacBride?”
Abigail grinned. “Nope, not happening. As Grandma O’Connell is fond of saying—bless her blue-haired heart—don’t shit where you eat. Of course, my mother loses her mind every time Gram says it, since it’s usually at the dinner table when tons of guests are present.”
“Christ in a sidecar, that’s freakin’ helpful. How do I interpret those words of wisdom, or is it a secret Maine phrase that I need a special agent decoder ring to understand?”
“It means,” Lorelei said, “do not become involved with anyone too close to home.”
“Oh.”
“Mac and I made a pact early on,” Abigail said. “No dating, no casual bonking.
We work together too closely. If our lovey-dovey relationship went south, it would result in a very uncomfortable operational environment.”
“An uncomfortable operational environment. I see.”
“Mac and I meet in town on occasion and hoist a beer or two. Since we were friends of Adam and Lucian first, we shamelessly horn in on Lorelei’s territory here at Sanctuary to work out, hone our skills with weapons, or play cards. That’s it. I’m just one of the guys.”
“And don’t forget Garrett.” Lorelei went for another mouthful of pie. “Damn, this stuff is great.”
“Garrett? Who the hell is Garrett?”
“Lorelei, no need to bring Glennon into this discussion.”
“Oh, Glennon. That name I’ve heard. Who is he?”
“Go for it, Abigail.”
“Glennon Garrett. GMG surveillance and security guru. He was here for a special op. When it was over, we hooked up. That’s all there is to it.”
“And where is Mr. Garrett now?” Keko asked.
Bombshell - Men of Sanctuary Series, Book Three Page 19