Forever My Love

by Heather Graham

  “Maybe he wasn’t murdered. Maybe it was just a fight.”

  Brent shook his head. “No, I don’t think so. I’ve been remembering who was in the group back then, Kathy. It was Johnny and me, the Hicks brothers, Keith Montgomery—and Harry Robertson and Larry Jenkins. And guess where Larry Jenkins is right now.”

  Kathy shook her head, a chill sliding up her spine. “Dead?” she whispered uneasily.

  Brent nodded. “Larry was killed in a car accident, all alone, out on the highway, not a month ago. Then Keith’s wife was killed, too, the same way.”

  Kathy gasped. “You think she was murdered, too? Oh, my God, why?”

  “I don’t know, Kathy. I don’t know. But can you understand now why I want you and Shanna out of here before I do anything?”

  “Do anything!” Kathy protested. “You’ve got to go to the police—”

  “Kathy, I am going to go to the police. But I’m not going to be a sitting victim for whatever it is that’s going on.”

  “Don’t you dare think you can take care of this by yourself.”

  “Kathy! I just said I’m going to the police, all right? But I don’t want anyone to know where I am until I reach Shanna and get the two of you away, do you understand?”

  Kathy exhaled slowly.

  “You got an ice chest here?” he asked her.

  “What?”

  “She’s gone with David to the Keys, right?”

  Kathy nodded.

  “Well then,” Brent said softly, “we’ve got to catch up with them and bring her home so I can make arrangements to get you both far away.”

  “I can just radio to them from the boat,” Kathy said.

  “Radio! You want to announce all this over open airwaves?”

  “I—”

  “No, we’ve got to sail down there and get her ourselves. And we should go now, right now. What have you got in here that we can take to eat?”

  She stared at him. She couldn’t go off with him alone in the boat—she just couldn’t. She had a forty-foot sailboat with a great motor that would get them wherever they wanted to go no matter what the weather, but that wasn’t the point.

  Once, it had been their sailboat. He had been the captain and she the first mate and they had spent hours and hours of their free time sailing her—to the Keys, to the Bahamas, wherever they had time to go. They had spent long, lazy afternoons on the boat, sunning, fishing, snorkeling, diving…

  Fighting, and making love.

  “Kathy, what’s the matter with you? We’ve got to go! What can we pack—”

  “We don’t need to pack anything.”

  “What?”

  “The—the galley is stocked.”

  He seemed to freeze for a minute. Then his eyes became darker than amber, and she knew he was holding a tight rein on his temper. “I see,” he said coolly. “You and What’s-his-name spend a lot of time aboard her now.”

  “Axel. And we were just going to go out on Sunday,” Kathy said. Then she leaped off her bar stool and exploded. “What business is it of yours, McQueen? You walked away. And you seem to be spending all your time with that little twit—”

  “Little twit?”

  “Marla Harrington. And twit’s your daughter’s term, not mine!”

  He stared at her as if he was going to explode. Then the darkness left his eyes and a golden flame of humor sizzled in them. “You should hear what she calls your good friend Axel,” he warned her.

  “What?”

  He twisted his jaw and shook his head, silently laughing. “Never mind. Let’s go. Call Patty and make sure she’ll feed Sam for the next couple of days in case we have trouble finding them.”

  “You want me to call Patty after—”

  “Yes. Tell her you just want to be with Shanna. I’m sure she’ll understand.”

  “But not good enough for me to tell her the truth.”

  “Dammit, Kathy, I don’t want to drag anyone into this if I don’t have to. You and Shanna are known quantities in my life. Patty isn’t. Don’t tell her anything. Then let’s go. It’s dark. We should be able to get to the docks without being seen. And we’ll slip out really quietly. And find Shanna.”

  She nodded, but she still wasn’t moving.

  “What’s the matter?”

  She shook her head. “I just—I just wasn’t planning on a cruise with you this evening,” she murmured. And certainly not on the Sweet Eden, the vessel that had played such a very important part in their lives….

  He came close to her, a wicked grin on his lips, and he leaned low to meet her eyes.

  “What’s the matter, Kath? Frightened of the things going on? Or of me?”

  She shook her head, smiling. “Uh-uh.”

  “Hmm,” he murmured. “Maybe you should be. ’Cause you know what, my love? I can still kiss you without thinking that I should throw up, either.”

  “How sweet. You always did have a way with words.”

  His smile deepened. “They were your words, remember? Actually, when I kissed you, there were other things I was thinking about. Lots and lots of other things. Maybe we should both be afraid,” he said huskily. Then he turned away from her. “Come on. We’ve really got to go. I need my wallet. Get whatever you need and let’s get out of here. I’ll lock up the back where I came in through the bathroom. You still have that little secret door for Sam?”

  “Uh, yes. He can come in or out if he wants. He usually likes to be out, though.”

  “Patty has keys?”

  She nodded jerkily. “Brent—”

  “Kathy, move!”

  He was already past her, on his way to the bedroom.

  She gritted her teeth. She wanted to fight and argue and deny any time with him at all. She wanted to deny any feeling for him!

  But she had to reach her daughter. It was a desperate situation, and he did seem to have it all figured out.

  It was just that she was going to go with him. Alone. Aboard the Sweet Eden.

  A curious warmth snaked along the length of her spine, and for a moment she could barely breathe. She couldn’t be alone with him. They’d been apart for three years and she’d barely seen him again and already…

  It was almost as if they had never parted. His kiss, his touch, were every bit as evocative, as seductive, as they had ever been.

  They’d been apart. They were divorced. Their daughter was at stake. Surely, she could go with him and hold her own.

  Surely, she could…

  “Kathy!”

  It seemed that she jumped a mile at the sound of his voice. She spun. He was at the door, ready, his gaze sharp, his voice commanding.

  She could hold her own.

  She smiled sweetly at him. She just had to remember that he could be a temperamental, domineering son of a gun, that was all. Then she’d be just fine.

  She collected a purse, slipped into a pair of sneakers then hurried to the door. He was there waiting.

  “Let’s go!” he said impatiently.

  She sailed past him, her jaw clenched tight, her smile still in place.

  “Fine! Let’s go!”

  She was holding her own, all right.

  She was trembling like a leaf as the warm night air embraced her and they slipped away into the darkness.

  Chapter 3

  The moon was full, casting a surreal glow on the stately old houses along the way to the water. There wasn’t another soul around as Brent led the way down the dock and leaped aboard the Sweet Eden. “Get the ropes, Kath, will you?”

  She paused, arching a brow, then decided that she would help cast away without arguing.

  The Sweet Eden was hers, though. They might have owned it together once, but it was all hers now. Yet he seemed to think he still owned it!

  By the time she had tossed the ropes to the deck and jumped aboard, he’d switched on the lights and started the motor. As she moved to take a seat at the helm, she found he had beat her to it.

  Not that he wasn’t an exc
ellent sailor. He always had been. He loved the water and everything to do with it.

  He smiled at her as she approached him. “Have a seat, Kathryn. My God, it’s peaceful out here, isn’t it?”

  Kathy sat on the curve of the seat beside him. The Sweet Eden was a nicely shaped and compact sailboat with all the pleasures of home—well, almost all the pleasures. There was no gigantic bath aboard. The heads were small and compact. The helm was situated at the rear with topside space for about ten people. Down a flight of six steps were the galley, dining area and two cabins, one portside and one starboard. Each had a tiny head with a toilet, shower and sink.

  Despite the fact that there was plenty of space between them, Kathy sat gingerly on the edge of the padded fiberglass seat. “It’s quiet because very few people go on pleasure cruises at this time of night.”

  “Really?” he drawled.

  “Mmm. And would you like me to take over? It is a little tricky here out to the bay—”

  “I’m fine.”

  “It’s been three years—”

  “Kathy, I’ve done this hundreds of times. I know what I’m doing.”

  “It’s my boat!”

  His teeth flashed white in the shadows of the night. “So it is, Ms. O’Hara. Indulge me.”

  She threw up her hands. “Indulge you? Brent, I’m indulging the hell out of you as it is! Think about it. We haven’t exchanged a single word in three years and the next thing I know you’re in my bathtub.”

  “My bathtub, too.”

  “Your use of the facilities for bubble baths was not in the agreement!” Kathy reminded him indignantly. “Nor do I owe you this, any of this. I’m not even sure if I agree with what we’re doing! And at the very least, you might want to recall, Brent, you walked out on me!”

  “You filed for the divorce.”

  “You left—”

  He exploded suddenly with a long, passionate oath, his fingers winding white-knuckled and tense over the wheel. “We’d lost one child and I’d caused you to lose another. How the hell long was I supposed to stay?”

  Kathy gasped and leaped to her feet, stunned by the fury and passion—and the anguish—of his words. This was a mistake. There was nothing left between them except for old wounds. Agonizing wounds, barely sutured, that bled at the slightest brush.

  “You’re right!” she snapped. “There was nothing to stay for, nothing at all.”

  Tears were nearly blinding her. She left him and hurried below. He did know what he was doing. He could fend for himself.

  She entered the first cabin and fell upon the bunk, clenching her teeth hard to hold the emotions surging inside her at bay. She didn’t want to remember, she hated to remember. Maybe it had all started with the television today, maybe Brent’s last words really had very little to do with it. But it was all there, rushing over her.

  Ryan had been so little. Just two months old. And they had tried for him for so long, Kathy becoming concerned, Brent telling her that trying was the most fun in the whole world. And then they’d had him and he’d been the most beautiful little boy in the world, with huge blue eyes and dark blond curls, and they’d all adored him, Shanna included. But then the night had come when he should have started crying at his feeding time and Kathy had lain there awake smiling, just waiting. She waited and waited, then she got up and walked down the hall to his room and to his crib. She found him lying on his stomach, his little rump up in the air, as he slept so very often.

  But when she reached for him, he was cold. So cold. She turned him over and his tiny lips were blue, and it was then that she started to scream.

  In seconds Brent was down the hall and in the room. He shocked her into action and between them, they tried to revive him while Shanna called 911.

  There was nothing anyone could do. It was sudden infant death syndrome, the doctor explained, so tragic, a horrible loss, and only God could understand. And she had cried and cried and hated God with all her might, and Brent, immersed in the loss, had held her. He’d been the rock she so desperately needed.

  It was only later that she began to lose him, and she never saw it. Maybe she had begun to lash out first, maybe she’d been trying to crawl out of the lonely well of pain. Maybe she had wanted to fight because fighting made her feel as if they were still alive….

  “Kathy.”

  She started, amazed to see him silhouetted in the doorway. She hadn’t turned on the cabin lights, and they were in darkness and shadow. She realized the engine had stopped.

  “Brent—”

  “It’s all right. We’re hugging the coast and I’m anchored.”

  “You’re sure—”

  “Kathy, I’m sure. Honestly, I do know what I’m doing.” She could see the flash of his rueful smile in the darkness. “Maybe I haven’t been aboard this boat in a while, but I have been on others.”

  Yes, he had. He’d been on one in the video, with Marla Harrington draped all over him.

  He took a step into the room and sat on the bunk beside her. Before she could stop him, before she realized what he was doing, he reached out and touched her cheek, then rubbed his fingers together after finding the dampness there. Quickly she wiped away the tears.

  “Kathy, I’m sorry, really sorry.”

  She wanted to speak quickly. She wanted to escape the close confines of the cabin. She didn’t want him so near, and she didn’t want him touching her because it all felt so natural and so right. She wanted him so badly, wanted to be held in his arms, wanted his kiss, wanted his naked body next to hers, wanted to make love…

  And it wouldn’t be right. It would be very, very wrong. It hadn’t been a casual affair that had ended, maybe to be resumed again. It had been their whole lives, and their lives had been shattered, and she wasn’t playing with that kind of fire ever again.

  “It’s all right, Brent.”

  “You’re crying.”

  “It’s not your fault.”

  “It is, and it was.”

  “No, it was nobody’s fault, remember? That’s what they said.”

  “Kathy, I didn’t mean to do this to you, I just wanted to get you and Shanna to safety. Want to try to start over for the evening?”

  What else was there to do? She couldn’t go home because they still had to find their daughter. And she couldn’t stay in the cabin because she would throw her arms around him and burst into tears and beg him to make love to her just one more time, and give her one more memory to live on during the empty years to follow.

  If they survived this, she thought fleetingly, then pushed the thought furiously away.

  They would survive. She’d make Brent be careful, if nothing else. If he was going to make them go away, she was going to make him go away, too, she decided firmly.

  “Dinner,” she breathed.

  “Pardon?”

  “You said that you wanted to start the night over. All right, you muscled your way to the helm. Want to muscle your way to the galley?”

  “Sure.” He stood, reached down a hand to her and pulled her to her feet. Then he paused for a moment and she thought her heart stopped beating, that the whole world and time had ceased to exist. She thought he was going to touch her again, to say something, but he did not. He left the cabin and strode down the aisle to the galley.

  “All right, Ms. O’Hara, what am I cooking?”

  “I’m not sure,” she admitted. She opened the tiny refrigerator behind the carved oak counter and started looking through the provisions. “Omelets!” she said at last. She set a dozen eggs on the stainless steel counter by the sink then began adding other ingredients. “Mushrooms, peppers, onions, cheese, sausage—”

  “Hold up on the sausage, Ms. O’Hara,” he instructed her. “That must be for the new love of your life. I detest sausage, remember?”

  He spoke lightly but there was an edge to his voice. And when she glanced at him, he was leaning over the counter, watching her, a golden light glistening in his eyes. She hadn’t forgotten the
danger signals. She smiled sweetly, wondering why she felt such a rush of excitement at his anger. Was he jealous? If so, it was damned nice. He hadn’t a thing to be jealous about, but he didn’t know that. “Sorry,” she told him casually. “I guess I did forget.”

  “Do you have any normal beer in there?” he asked her.

  “Normal beer?”

  “Good old American brew. Instead of your, er, friend’s trendy water?”

  Shanna had done some of the stocking of the galley, and all her life, she had stocked it with her father’s favorites. Kathy tossed Brent a beer.

  “Thanks. I guess memory does survive at times.”

  “In your daughter’s heart.”

  “So is he much of a sailor?” Brent asked politely.

  “He’s fine.”

  “Just fine? I would have thought that you would have demanded so much more out of life.”

  “We were talking about sailing.”

  “Were we? I had the impression we were talking about something else. Everything about him seems to be fine. Not good, not great, not wonderful. Just fine. You ought to be shooting for wonderful, Kathy.”

  “Ah. Because you were wonderful?” she challenged him.

  He smiled, his lip curving slowly. He bent close to her and lifted a lock of her hair, then slowly let it go. “Yeah. At some things. We were pretty wonderful.”

  She pulled away from him, bumping her head against the cabinets. He started to reach for her, worried, and she pulled away again. “I’m fine! It’s okay. Hey, you’re supposed to be doing the cooking remember.”

  “Yeah, sure.”

  He sipped his beer, set the can on the counter and started to rummage through the cabinets. “Where the heck is the frying pan?”

  “Amazing, isn’t it? You remember the docks and the ships and everything else—but not where the pans are kept!” Deciding they were never going to eat if she didn’t get him started, Kathy found the large frying pan and a cutting board. Brent managed to find some butter in the refrigerator, then the bread basket, and while she chopped peppers and mushrooms and onions, he cut slices of bread. As long as she was busy with the work before her, her eyes on her chopping, she thought she could manage a few queries.