Читать книгу A Home by the Sea - Christina Skye - Страница 10

TATIANA BEGAN CALLING crisp orders from the kitchen. “Reed, please find the flashlight and batteries in the top drawer of the kitchen cabinet. Alex, my love, there are more blankets in the guest room closet. I have hot water already boiled, but we will need the Thermos bottles. I also have marshmallows and chocolate, to make those things you boys loved so much in Boy Scouts. Shores, you called them.”

“S’mores, Mom. And that sounds great.” Noah rubbed his hands together. “The power should go off more often.”

Reed appeared at the door, holding a flashlight. “So, bro, let’s go get the sticks and marshmallows.”

“You’re on.”

Twenty minutes later, Grace was downing her third heavenly mixture of perfectly roasted marsh-mallow, graham cracker and melted chocolate. She didn’t even have to move. With the kitten on her lap, Noah held up cooked morsels for her to eat from his fingers. She had to admit, the whole experience was more than a little hedonistic. The brush of his hands and rich tastes made her feel wonderfully decadent.

Noah tucked the blanket around her on the couch. Candles flickered in the kitchen and then footsteps moved away up the stairs. The house grew quiet as the snow swirled outside the window. With the power gone, Grace’s sense of being enclosed in a cocoon was complete. The flicker and snap of the fire lulled her to sleep, along with the warmth of the little kitten curled up on her lap. She yawned and smiled sheepishly. “I think the day has finally caught up with me.”

“Get some rest. I’ll keep an eye on these bad boys. Once the weather settles down in the morning, my dad and I will get you home in the Hummer.”

“I appreciate this generous hospitality.”

“I’m happy you’re here, Grace.” Noah studied her face in the firelight. “I feel calm when I’m around you. I can’t quite explain it.” He leaned back, scratching one of the kittens. “So how about dinner tomorrow, assuming that the roads are clear?”

“I … I don’t think I can.”

“Then what about Friday?” The other kittens stirred. A sleepy head rose and big dark eyes looked from Grace to Noah.

“I don’t think this is a good idea.”

“It’s just dinner. Everybody has to eat, remember? And since you brought these amazing animals into my life, now we’re both responsible. You’re going to need my help to take care of them.”

He was right. Grace had taken on more responsibility than she expected in that alley tonight. But she had to make the situation clear. “I’m feeling overwhelmed, Noah. I didn’t expect any of this. And just so you understand, I’m not considering a relationship.”

His eyebrows rose. “All I asked for was a simple meal together. No need to make it complicated.”

But it was complicated. She had spent eight years with a man she thought she adored. A man who seemed above reproach, dedicating his life to helping others find reconciliation under hostile circumstances. If you couldn’t trust a man like that, who could you trust?

Grace forced the bad memories down before they could swirl up. “I’m sorry, but no.”

“So our timing is wrong. At least agree to a snowball fight.” He raised his palms. “Nothing complicated in that.”

He made it so easy for her to feel safe and comfortable, but Grace refused to give in to that gorgeous smile. “Really? I’m not quite buying that.”

Noah lifted the restless kitten from her lap, tucking it back into the warm spot next to its mother, where it immediately began to nurse. “If there’s one thing I’ve learned in life, it’s the importance of taking opportunities when they’re offered. Life has its own timetable, and if we look away or hesitate or blink, a moment can pass. Things can change.” His voice hardened. “People can be lost forever.”

Grace heard the sadness again. This time it held something like remorse.

She was surprised at how much she wanted to ask him what he had lost and why. There she went, getting pulled in again. Questions could take her places she didn’t want to go.

Instead, she blurted out an answer that neither one of them expected.

“Fine. I accept your challenge. Tomorrow at 10:00 a.m. in the backyard. But we have to have some rules. Time limits and number of rounds per bout. I like things to be spelled out,” she said firmly.

He leaned back, smiling faintly. “Three rounds or the first one to declare defeat. Five minutes max per round.”

“Accepted.”

He looked more pleased than he should have as he pulled her blanket up around her shoulders. Side by side they watched snow dust the windows while the fire crackled. His shoulder was warm against hers and Grace felt strength radiate from his body. His presence seemed to anchor her.

She yawned and found herself wondering how his hands would feel on her bare skin. What if he turned and brushed his lips over hers?

Quickly, the flow of her imagination turned dangerous. She sat up straighter and forced her tangled thoughts away from hot images of Noah kissing her.

Touching her.

Impossible. Stiffly, she picked up a pillow and blanket and lay down on the couch. She wasn’t getting involved.

“Good night, Noah.”

She heard his soft laugh. “‘Night, Grace. Sleep well.”

“I will.” She caught back a yawn. “And a friendly warning. This snowball fight of ours isn’t going three rounds. It will only go one.” Grace yawned again and closed her eyes. “I give it about three minutes. And then you are so going down, Noah McLeod,” she murmured.

As she pulled the blanket around her, Grace felt him slide a second pillow under her head. “Wanna bet?” he whispered.

SOMETHING WAS HAPPENING.

Noah stood in the doorway, frowning. He had told her it wasn’t complicated, but that was a lie.

The complications might have begun when he had seen her all but climb into that Dumpster, oblivious to her elegant evening heels and silk dress. They might have started when she had cradled the hungry kittens, looking fierce and protective. Then she had surveyed his crowded, noisy dining room, and he had seen her face fill with the ache of longing.

It didn’t make sense, but Noah felt he could read her emotions, even though she worked hard to hide them. To others she would appear cool and controlled, but he saw the way her fingers clenched and her shoulders tightened. She faced life head-on, strong and stubborn, and she loved what she did. He knew that much. But he wanted to know everything about her. And he wanted to share parts of himself he never shared.

He turned away, angry at the urge to sit across from her. Not to touch, but simply to watch her sleep.

And that kind of longing was dangerous. The work he did left no room for emotions that could confuse and distract him. When you had three seconds to make a life-or-death choice of half a dozen wires, you had to have a clear mind.

You had to be able to walk away. That had been Noah’s personal rule for as long as he could remember. It had never been a terrible sacrifice—until now.

He blew out a quiet breath, listening to the snow at the window. The wind was whining and the noise had disturbed the mother cat, who sat up alertly.

“It’s okay, Mom. You and the kids are gonna be fine.”

A sound from the couch made him turn. He caught Grace’s pillow as she shoved it free in her sleep. She was a restless sleeper, twisting under the covers. Several times her lips shaped words that Noah couldn’t understand. Clearly, she was fighting old battles in her sleep.

Carefully, he slid her pillow back in place, listening to the hiss and pop of the fire. He should have been sleepy, but he was fully alert, aware of every noise and movement in the quiet house. Most of all he was aware of Grace sleeping so close.

He smelled her faint perfume and heard every breath she took. And the force of his awareness left him irritated.

A shadow fell over the floor. Noah realized his mother was holding up a dish towel and looking at him from the doorway.

Quietly, he crossed to the kitchen and closed the door so their noise wouldn’t wake Grace. “Dish duty again?”

“I’ll dry. You will wash. You’re very good at that. I trained all my sons very well,” Tatiana said with calm pride. “She is nice, Noah. I like her very much. But there is pain in her eyes. What did you say her job was?”

“I’m still trying to figure that out. I think she writes magazine articles and does historical research on food, but we haven’t gotten that far. I only met her tonight, and that was completely by accident.”

His mother’s eyes narrowed. “A very wise man once told me there are no accidents. Only fate, my son. It is never wise to fight the touch of fate. But just the same, I hope you will be … safe.”

“Safe? I don’t understand.”

Tatiana frowned at him. “Probably not. But I see what I see. I hope you will find the right woman. One who makes your steps light with happiness.”

“Don’t worry about me. I take the days as they come. No attachments means no regrets.”

“For now. But not always. Someday I wish …” She touched his cheek and then rolled her eyes. “How like an interfering mother I sound. You will please ignore me.”

“You’re a hard person to ignore.”

“That is a very nice thing to say.” Tatiana hesitated. “I had a call from Matthew’s wife today.” She seemed to shape her words carefully. “They will not be coming for New Year’s. They will not be coming here for Valentine’s Day or Easter, either. She told me they’ve purchased a house.”

“Where? Virginia?”

“That’s what I thought. But no. Miranda is going to take my granddaughter across the country to Oregon. I had to look it up on a map. So far away. We will never see them.” Tatiana’s voice wavered.

Noah slid his arm around her trembling shoulders.

She had hidden her pain all during dinner, he realized. She had put on a good face. Now she could hide it no longer.

“You should have said something before this.”

“And ruin our first meal together in weeks? I’m not so weak. I will not let her steal our granddaughter out of our lives. Sophie has the right to know who her father was. How brave your brother was and how strong he was and how hard he worked. To serve and protect. He was so proud of his work,” Tatiana said with husky pride. “Sophie has the right to know her father’s family. And I will fight Miranda to make this so. I swear it with all my heart. She will not take her away and cut us off.” Her voice broke. “I have not told your father, my love. It will break his heart. He loves Sophie so much. His first grandchild,” she whispered.

“We all love Sophie,” Noah said gruffly. The sadness of losing his brother in the line of fire was still a fresh wound. Now were they to lose all contact with his young daughter? “What about her classes at school? Her friends?”

“Her mother insists she’ll have an equally good education in Oregon. She has already requested the transfer of Sophie’s files and enrolled her in a private school there. I think—I think that she has planned this for a long time, maybe right after Matthew’s death. But she never gave any clue. Such a woman, she is.” Tatiana took a harsh breath and forced a smile. “She thinks it is for the best perhaps. Maybe … maybe our family reminds her of all she has lost. I know that she did love Matthew once. Before the long hours made her bitter.” Noah’s mother looked at him and shook her head. “I think that Miranda is more worried about herself than anything else.” Tatiana looked away.

Noah realized that his mother looked tired and frail. The knowledge shocked him. He had always thought that her strength would never fail. She had been the toughest one of his family, steeled by a childhood of deprivation, war and loss.

But the day that she had lost her youngest son had been a nightmare that would walk with her always. A D.C. policeman, Matt had answered a midnight call and then received the full blast of a car bomb.

That explosion should have happened to him, Noah thought angrily. He was the one trained to deal with improvised explosive devices, not Matt. His team should have been dispatched to handle the device.

Due to a misreading of the situation, the wrong agency had been called in.

And gregarious, optimistic Matthew McLeod had been torn apart by a wall of destruction that hammered past at 26,000 feet per second. He had died instantly. The shadow of his loss would hang over them always.

“Mom, leave the dishes. I’ll finish them,” Noah said gruffly. “You should go and rest.”

“Nonsense. If I can’t dry a few pans and forks, what good am I? Now enough of this dark talk. Tell me about how you found this woman and her kittens.”

Noah put another pan into the hot soapy water. “She was rifling around in a Dumpster, ruining her evening clothes and not caring a bit. She looked—fearless,” he said thoughtfully. “As stubborn as she was frozen.”

“Stubborn? This would be good. And fearless, you say?” Tatiana picked up another wet plate, looking thoughtful. “I like very much that she rescued five creatures who had no one else to help them.” She looked at her son.

Noah met her gaze. “It was just an accidental meeting, Mom. We aren’t—involved. I barely know her.”

“And yet you would like to know her, yes?”

“Liking doesn’t change anything. She’s just visiting D.C. and I don’t have time in my life now for anything that’s serious. End of story.”

Tatiana pulled a clean plate from his hands. “You can’t hide from feelings and attachments forever, Noah. We all lost something too precious to imagine when Matthew died.” Her eyes shimmered. “He would not want us to live in the shadows of pain and loss. That was not your brother’s way.”

“I know. But I can’t forget and I won’t forgive.”

Tatiana’s eyes glistened with tears. “He wants us to start.” She put her hands flat on the counter, closing her eyes. “He would want us all to look forward instead of back.” She took a long breath. “Somehow we must try. Now leave the last pan, my love. We will have some tea and the rest of the poppy-seed cake while you tell me what really happened to you today at that job you never discuss.” Her eyes narrowed. “Do you think I did not notice how your right shoulder hurts you or you rub your wrist? You did something brave and I think that you were hurt.”

Noah muttered under his breath. “I slipped on an icy step, Mom. Nothing brave or serious about that. My job is usually boring.” He shrugged. “It’s not like on TV. Mostly we sit and look at computers.”

“You are sure? You would not lie to me?” She stood very still.

Yet again Noah thought how fragile his mother had become in the year since his brother’s death. “Of course I’m sure. I was grabbing for my pager and I didn’t watch where I was walking. I landed on my arm, looking like a fool. End of story.” He carried his mother’s tea to the table and then went back for his own.

“I see. But next time you will be more careful, please, and watch where you walk.” She stared out at the snow, still falling hard. “And when you—look at your computers, you will also be careful. Promise me this,” she said fiercely.

“I will be. McLeod’s honor.”

“Good.” Tatiana squeezed Noah’s hand hard and took a deep breath. “Now finish that cake before your father comes looking for it. He always knows when there is one piece left, and I must help his willpower a little.”

WIND WHISPERED AGAINST the windows, driving snow against the glass. The house was quiet except for the hiss and pop of the fire that was still going in the room next door.

Tatiana McLeod was not afraid of silence or the dark. She welcomed the shadows as a friend. Only then would she see her lost son.

Matthew?

She stared at his old chair, empty near the window. Always empty.

The house was quiet yet full of small sounds. The settling of walls. Sleepy breaths that sounded against the snap of the fire. Even the restless kittens were finally asleep.

Tatiana stood in the dark kitchen, listening to all of it. This was hers, her oldest dream. This was the home that she had made by fierce effort, drawing her family around her, keeping them safe at all costs.

Except she had not kept her youngest son safe.

Matthew was gone, lost to the twisted fury of a man given over to hatred. He had graduated from the police academy at the top of his class and married two weeks later. His daughter, Sophie, was the light of his life and the joy of his parents. But his wife, society girl Miranda Dillon, had hated his job, hated the duty he took so seriously. Again and again she had tried to make him leave to work for her father in his huge plumbing fixtures business.

Matthew had always sidestepped the argument. On that one subject he would not bend.

Now his pampered widow was taking Sophie away with no concern for Matthew’s family or what it would do to the little girl.

Tatiana clenched her fists in anger. She had to hold back her fury and the pain of her losses. She wouldn’t let her family be torn apart. She would keep them safe, even if she had to …

Always so stubborn.

The words were soft, almost her imagination. But three times she had heard them in the haunting months since Matthew’s death.

“I’ve had to be stubborn.” To make a family was simple. To keep it together was the hard thing.

A breeze touched her cheek. There might have been a glimmer of light near the stove.

You work too hard, Mother. You always did.

She signed, closing her eyes as a sudden warmth filled the air around her. I miss you terribly, Matthew.

It will be better. You’ll see.

“Will it?” Her muscles clenched with anger that followed in the wake of sadness. “Why you? Why not someone evil? Or why not take me instead? You had your whole life to live.”

Her shoulders shook.

Shh.

Again she felt a current of wind on her face. Everything happens for a reason. Now I see this all so clearly.

“Well, I don’t! I can’t understand at all—and I can’t forgive, either. Now your wife, cunning and quiet, plans to take your little daughter away, too.” Tatiana’s voice broke. “Far away, Matthew. From us and your memory.”

She is doing what she thinks is best, Mother.

“Really? I thought she was doing what was easiest. She wants to make Sophie forget you. I hate her.”

As Tatiana’s fists clenched in terrible anger, she knew the mistake she had made. He was silent then. He was always silent when she said something bitter or angry. It was as if he was held in a gentler place and these darker emotions could not touch him there. So he simply slipped away.

Tatiana closed her eyes, hunched over the table. She leaned down to touch the chair where her son had always sat—until the night he was killed. “Stay, Matthew. I won’t—that is, I’ll try to find some affection for your widow. I’ll try to understand why she is doing this cruel thing. But I won’t let her cut Sophie off from you and us. We’re in her blood, too. Miranda and I will have to come to some kind of compromise.”

She felt a stirring of air touch her cheek. It might have been the movement of a hand passing in the darkness.

With her eyes closed, Tatiana heard her son’s beloved voice beside her. She’s caught in darkness right now. The words were a mere whisper. She has lost me and she’s lost her hope and she’s lost the world along with it. Give her time, Mama. You are so strong … and she is not.

The wind stirred again, like a gentle hand at her shoulder.

And then he was gone.

Tatiana knew in an instant, because the kitchen suddenly felt silent and cold. Now the darkness was only darkness.

She was alone. No spirits walked to ease her sadness.

Strong? Yes, she had always been the strong one. She had fought for her family since the icy morning when she had woken up in Ukraine huddled next to her grandmother and four sisters with one quilt between them. Tatiana had sworn she would make a better life. She had sworn to see that her family never went hungry. And she had vowed to pass on the memories and traditions of the homeland she loved, despite its years of war and unrest.

She had done all those things, through the blood and sweat of her body and her fierce will.

But she was strong no longer. The blow of losing her youngest son had bent her double like a birch tree in a spring storm, snapping her in two. Her family might believe she was strong. Her friends might marvel and offer compliments.

But inside, Tatiana’s tears gathered into silver rivers. And she was broken, bent by the weight of sadness just like the ruined trees she remembered from her girlhood.