DANA HAD DELETED the message Nolan left Monday without listening to it. But she listened to the one he left Wednesday after their visit.
It was terse. “Christian would really like to see you. Since you’re working now and he can’t come by after school, would it be okay if I drop him off for an hour tonight or tomorrow night?”
She had just come out of a meeting with Jessica and Meghan, where she’d shared some of her conclusions on programs that didn’t serve a large enough population or duplicated the efforts of other agencies. Alone in her small office, she returned his call, half hoping she would be able to leave a message.
No such luck.
“Dana?”
Even his deep voice sent a shiver through her, which today made her feel foolish.
“Tonight would be fine, if Christian wants to come by,” she said pleasantly. “Shall we say seven?”
“Sounds good.” He was quiet for a moment. “Are you ever going to speak to me again?”
“Aren’t we speaking right now?”
“You know what I mean.”
“I took your...friendliness at face value, which was clearly a mistake. I’m here to get to know my son. I let myself be distracted.”
“I’ve never been dishonest with you.”
Surprised at how heated he sounded, she retorted, “An omission can be as dishonest as a lie.”
“Damn it, Dana—”
She closed her eyes. “No, I shouldn’t have said that. All I know is, you’re in Christian’s corner. I thought...” She shook her head, even though he wouldn’t see. “Never mind. It doesn’t matter.”
“It does,” he said intensely.
“I’d hoped we could all have the same goal, but I don’t think we do. So let’s just leave it, shall we, Nolan?” At a knock on her door she said, “I’m at work and need to go. I’ll expect Christian this evening unless I hear otherwise.” Setting down the phone, she called, “Come in.”
Meghan poked her head in. “Hi, it’s just me. I had a few questions, if you have time.”
Dana made herself smile despite the knot in her stomach. “Of course. Sit down.”
I’m seeing Christian tonight. So why aren’t I excited?
Because he was probably coming under duress? Or, at best, because he felt guilty?
Her feelings had nothing to do with the fact that she wouldn’t be seeing Nolan.
My choice. One I’d be smart to keep making.
* * *
EVEN AS CHRISTIAN rang the doorbell, he cast a pleading look over his shoulder at Uncle Nolan, waiting in the SUV at the curb. When Christian had begged him to come in, too, he’d shaken his head.
He heard the sound of the lock being turned, and then the door opened. Dana smiled and said, “Come on in.” She waved at Uncle Nolan. By the time they were inside, he was driving away.
“I assume you had dinner?”
He nodded, relaxing a little. She was being nice, like she had the time he came by after school.
“Do you have room for a cinnamon roll?” She wrinkled her nose. “I shouldn’t have bought them, but temptation overcame me.”
He had a weird moment. Something about that expression made him realize that he did kind of look like her. Maybe...a lot like her.
Would everyone guess if they saw him with her?
“Um, yeah, cool,” he got out.
They sat at the kitchen table again, both drinking milk. She nibbled on half a cinnamon roll—Christian could kind of see why, since they were huge—while he had one to himself.
She repeated her apology, promising not to put him on the spot again.
Feeling a cramping in his chest, he flattened some icing on the plate with his fork. “No, I should have said you could come. It’s just...” He took a deep breath. “I was embarrassed. You know. Because I did my project on Uncle Nolan.”
“I would have understood,” she said quietly. “You’re proud of him. That’s okay.”
“I always wanted—” He stopped, ducking his head again.
“To be like him?”
Christian nodded.
“You probably will be like him in some ways, you know. He raised you. That may have more impact on how you turn out, what interests you, what you’re good at, than your genes do.”
He lifted his head. “You really think so?”
Her smile made him feel good. “Yes, I do. Plus...the Gregors have a lot in common with my family. We tend to be tall, for example. Athletic. We’re good students. Those things are all true of Nolan, too.”
“Mom wasn’t.” He heard himself. “I mean...”
“I know what you mean. And—Well, I haven’t even seen a picture of her. Was she short?”
“Kind of medium,” he said. “Not as tall as you.”
Dana nodded. “It sounds like she may not have done well in school, but that doesn’t mean she wasn’t smart. Her mental illness could have made it hard for her to focus or remember why finishing something was important. It obviously got in the way of her working well with other students.”
“I used to worry—” He sneaked a look at her.
“What did you worry about?”
“That, I don’t know, I might end up like her. Sick in the head. I went online,” he said in a rush, “and schizophrenia can be inherited.”
“I know that’s true sometimes,” she said gently. “But not always. Is there anyone else in the family you know of who was mentally ill?”
He shook his head. “Uncle Nolan says no.”
“Well, hey!” She laughed, but kind of softly. “At least you can forget that worry. My grandfather died of heart disease when he was only in his early sixties, so my dad worries a lot about his heart, but you’re a long ways from having to think about that.”
He grinned. “Yeah.” Sixties was old.
“I have some photo albums, if you’d like to see pictures of my family,” she said, sounding a little nervous.
His family, was what she meant.
“Do you have a picture of you at my age?”
She made a funny face. “Probably. I looked like a giraffe.”
He laughed. “There’s a girl like that in my class. I’m taller than her, but hardly any of the other guys are. And she’s got arms like sticks.”
“That was me.”
She went off and came back with several photo albums, plunking them down on the table. “No, I won’t make you look at every picture,” she said, laughing.
She put an album in front of him. “This one, Mom put together for me. When I was eleven...” She started to flip through.
Christian stopped her. “No, that’s... Wow.” He went back to the beginning, seeing her as a newborn in her mother’s arms in the hospital. She didn’t look that much like her mother. As he slowly turned pages, he saw that she took more after her father, who... He stopped and stared at one photo.
“You look a lot like your grandfather,” she said softly. “And my brother, too.”
He stayed mostly quiet, but he kept turning pages until he finished this album, with her in college graduation robes. My mother. Then he reached for another album, and another. She pointed out his uncle and aunt, and he saw their children growing up. My cousins. Yet another album held pictures from her wedding, so he saw his dad, too, and grandparents on that side and an aunt. And there was the uncle who’d been on the Olympic luge team.
It was completely bizarre, but he couldn’t quit looking. It was like...this whole history. His history, in a way. Like photo albums Grandma and Grandad had had, but he was actually related to these people.
Christian didn’t even know what he felt. It got so he could hardly breathe. For a minute he was afraid he might cry, but he couldn’t even do that.
Finally, he closed the last album and just sat there.
“I thought,” Dana said, “that I’d take out some pictures and get them copied. Make you an album. You could put it away, in case you’re interested later.”
He nodded.
“Good.” She smiled and piled them up. “It’s already after eight. I’ll bet your uncle will be here anytime.”
“He’s not really my uncle.”
She hadn’t touched him before, but now she did, squeezing his shoulder very quickly, kind of like Uncle Nolan did. “I think he always will be,” she said, not as if she minded.
Now his eyes did sting, so he kept his face turned away until he was sure he wouldn’t start sobbing or something.
Watching Dana put their plates in the dishwasher, Christian said, “It wasn’t his fault, you know.”
She turned to look at him. “That I didn’t know about the open house, you mean?”
“That, and—” he shrugged, feeling awkward and dorky “—me not wanting to see you. He kept saying you’re part of my life, but... I don’t know. I had to sort of think about it.”
She smiled, but crooked. “I swore I’d be patient.” Her eyes looked wet, although no tears fell. “And then I wasn’t. I promise I’ll do better.”
“I wish you weren’t mad at Uncle Nolan!” He swallowed hard. His voice came out small and shaky. “It’s fun when we’re all together.”
He thought she was crying a little now. “You’re telling me I should quit sulking, huh?”
“Just... I’ve been mad at him because he was kind of on your side. And now you’re mad at him.”
She swiped the back of her hand over one eye, then the other. “Okay. You’re right. I thought... Oh, it doesn’t matter. You can tell him he’s officially forgiven.”
“Cool.” He tipped his head, hearing an engine out front. “I bet that’s him. I guess I better go.”
“Yes.” This time her smile was real.
She walked him to the door and opened it, surprising Uncle Nolan, who had a foot on the first porch step. She politely thanked him for coming and Uncle Nolan for driving him over and said, “Good night.”
When they got in the SUV, Uncle Nolan looked at him.
“She showed me pictures. Of her growing up and her parents and brother and...and my father and his family.” Christian stared ahead through the windshield. “I look like them. Dana’s dad and brother. And even her, when she was my age.”
“That’s to be expected.” Uncle Nolan sounded kind.
Christian turned to him. “But she said I might grow up to be like you anyway, ’cause you raised me and that’s as important as, you know, genes.”
“Did she,” he said under his breath, not asking a question.
“And she said to say that she’s gotten over being mad at you. Because I explained it was all me.”
Uncle Nolan’s face changed. Christian couldn’t tell what he was thinking, except he was really glad. “Thank you,” he said.
Christian nodded. “I was thinking.”
His uncle cocked an eyebrow.
“That she might like to see pictures of me, too. You know, when I was little.”
“You’re a good kid. We’ll have her over and let her look all she wants. Then we’ll make up an album for her. Okay?”
Christian drew a breath. It filled his lungs, as if they’d expanded. For a minute he felt light-headed. “I bet she’d like that.”
“I bet she would, too.”
* * *
“HEY, HAVE YOU ever tried wave jumping?” Jeff Yantis was a local who competed internationally in freestyle and big-air windsurfing, especially popular in the Hood River area. In big air, competitors went for the highest jump or maneuver. Yantis had endorsement deals with several board and sail manufacturers, making his a familiar face throughout the sport. He was the classic surfer dude: skin tanned and leathery, shaggy hair bleached nearly white by the sun, electric-blue eyes.
“I did some during R & R when I was military,” Nolan said. “It was fun. Oahu and Africa.”
“Africa?”
“Namibia.” He had no intention of explaining why he’d been in the vicinity.
“Awesome,” Jeff declared. “The speed-sailing record was set there.”
“Yep.” The bell on the door tinkled. Nolan was more interested in who was coming in than he was in Jeff, who loved talking about his own exploits.
One of his part-timers met the two women who entered, and Nolan returned his attention to Jeff, who was likable enough, as well as a good customer. He talked up Wind & Waves in a way that had boosted business, too.
Rhapsodizing about this new experience, he made wave jumping sound like skateboarding only using giant waves as ramps, which wasn’t a bad comparison. Apparently, Jeff had been lucky enough to be on Maui when massive swells made huge aerial moves possible. He was demonstrating how he had twisted his body while performing two rotations when the bell over the door tinkled again.
Nolan’s adrenaline rush at seeing Dana probably compared with Jeff’s while he was pulling off the Crazy Pete. He smiled when she spotted him.
“Jeff, sorry to interrupt, but my lunch date is here.”
The guy turned to look, then grinned. “Hot lady.”
“She is.”
“Listen, I got to be going, anyway. I’ll be away for a few weeks—Australia—but when I get back, I’ll stop by. I’ve heard about a new board, different comp—”
Nolan quit listening midword and forgot to say goodbye. Instead, he watched Dana approach. “Hey.”
“Hi.” Dana appeared shy, but she lifted the white paper bag she carried in one hand. “Lunch, as promised.”
She’d called that morning and asked if she could come by. Nolan jumped on her offer to bring lunch.
He signaled toward the back, and today’s assistant nodded and waved. Nolan led Dana through the store, stopping to pick up drinks from a small fridge in the break room, and out the back door to a patio with a table, chairs and a big umbrella.
“Is this warm weather normal for May?” she asked, sitting at the table.
“No. Don’t worry. Rain is bound to come.”
She chuckled. “I suppose I’ll have to get used to rain if I stay in Lookout.”
If. Not the word he wanted to hear.
Nolan pulled out a chair, too, and watched as she produced deli sandwiches and potato salad in small cardboard containers.
“Looks good,” he said, reaching for a sandwich.
Sounding tentative, she said, “I know you probably can’t spare much time, but I thought—”
“I’m the boss. After you called, I arranged staffing to give me as long as I want.”
Her face didn’t relax as much as he’d have liked. “Mostly, I wanted to tell you the same thing I told Christian. I’m—”
He interrupted again, with no compunction. “If this is an apology, skip it. Once is enough. And we screwed up, too.”
She blinked. “Well...okay.”
“This is going to be a short lunch if that’s all you have to say.” He let some humor inflect his voice.
“I had hoped to eat,” Dana said tartly.
He nodded at the untouched food. “Then eat.”
They both started with potato salad, silence holding for a couple minutes. Dana looked out at the river, relatively placid with mild winds, and Nolan watched her.
Damn, she was pretty. For a woman of her height, her bone structure was fine, almost delicate. Her cheekbones were sharp rather than rounded, her often stubborn jaw so defined his fingers itched to trace it. A high, slightly curving forehead gave her an appearance of vulnerability that he doubted had been true before her son was stolen. He found himself wondering if he’d have been as intrigued by the happier, less complicated woman she had been.
Maybe not. Aside from the tragedies that had winnowed his family down to two, he had seen and done too much in the service to feel comfortable revealing much to people whose lives had been safe, who saw the world in black and white.
He wanted to know Dana.
She turned luminous gray eyes on him at that moment. “Can we go back to...I don’t know, being friendly?”
To risk or not to risk. He mentally tossed the dice. “I liked it when we were more than friendly.”
She kept studying him, a hint of warmth in her cheeks. “You admitted how goal oriented you are. Was that kiss a way of softening me up? Deflecting me from my goal?”
He wanted to take offense but couldn’t. He did have a goal, or at least the desire to explore the idea of how the three of them would work as a family. In the shorter term, though...
“I’m attracted to you,” he said, answering her blunt question with a blunt answer. “I had the impression it might be mutual.”
Her gaze slid away but returned to meet his. “Going anywhere with that attraction would complicate things.”
It would, but he asked anyway, “How?”
“At least one of us will end up hurt. How can that help but taint our effort to be civil for Christian’s sake?”
Disconcerted, he repeated, “At least one of us will end up hurt? There’s a positive way of looking at the future.”
She set down the half sandwich she’d just picked up. “I haven’t thought positive in a very long time.”
Frowning, he said, “I have the impression you spent a lot of years believing fiercely that you’d find Christian, alive and well. Isn’t that positive?”
“I tried very hard to convince myself that he was alive.” She offered a small, crooked smile. “It’s not quite the same thing.”
“No.” He tacked a different direction. “Your parents are still married.”
“Yes. They have a good marriage. But do you know how rare that is?” She gave her head a quick shake. “Anyway, that’s marriage. More casual relationships? What tiny percent last more than a few weeks or months?”
“You’re seriously negative.” And, yeah, that was a surprise. “I hope you express a more positive attitude for your clients.”
“Of course I do!” she exclaimed. “I’m not—” A lot passed through those eyes before she said slowly, “Maybe I am negative.”
Nolan laid it on the line. “Do you want to live alone? Forever?”
“I...had hoped to live with Gabe—Christian.” But tiny lines furrowed her usually smooth forehead.
“He’ll be twelve soon. Six years from now, he’ll be packing for college.”
Dana’s body quivered. Then she searched his face. “That doesn’t bother you?”
“Yeah,” he said gruffly. “Of course it does. But I want him to go eagerly, not looking over his shoulder and worrying about me. When the day comes...?” He turned his gaze to the river. He knew he didn’t have to finish his sentence.
“Have you ever been married?” Dana asked, sounding tentative.
He shook his head, taking her interest as a good sign. “Career military do marry, but it’s a hard road for the spouse that stays behind. Can’t say I met anyone I could be serious about, anyway. And since I came home, I’ve had a lot on my plate.”
Getting the business relocated and running would have been enough on its own, but he’d also had to deal with Marlee’s wild mood swings and disappearances and Christian’s grief after losing the grandparents who’d been his bedrock. Never mind the aftermath of the ax incident. The wonder was how the kid had remained as stable as he was.
He could tell Dana’s thoughts paralleled his. She kept looking at him, her gaze clear.
“All right.” She hesitated only momentarily. “Then let me ask you something.”
“Okay.” He tried not to betray how wary he suddenly felt.
“Are you interested in...in marriage? Having a family?” She tipped her chin up, speaking frankly despite her anxious blush. “Do you see that as a possibility for the two of us? Or is being ‘more than friendly’ just sex?”
Knocked off balance, Nolan tried to figure out the right answer. If there was a right one.
“I wasn’t asking for ‘just’ sex,” he said. He wished he could tell her he had begun every relationship open to greater possibilities, but that was a lie. For the most part, since graduating from college, sex had been his only goal. He had tried not to hurt women, most of whom, he hoped, had gotten exactly what they wanted, too. “You’re right. That would be a lousy idea, given our situation.”
She nibbled on her lower lip, distracting him. He wanted to be the one doing that.
“I can’t claim to be in love with you. I don’t know you well enough yet.” Inexplicable panic built up in his chest. Because...he knew her a whole lot better than would be usual from the time they’d spent together. “But to answer your question... Yes. I do want marriage and a family.” Until this moment, he hadn’t realized how much. It made him feel defenseless, not his favorite state of being. This had to be said, though. “And I do see that as a possibility for you and me. You...make me think things I never have before.”
The truth of that shook him, until he reminded himself that marriage and family was the plan. For Christian’s sake. For all their sakes. He liked Dana. He liked how she interacted with Christian. He wanted to spare her pain, make her happy—natural, given the protective part of his personality. He thought he could live with her.
And he wanted her. Damn, did he want her. Even thinking about her in his bed was enough to arouse him uncomfortably. Good thing they were on opposite sides of the table.
She hadn’t so much as blinked in a long time. He was about to slap her on the back, make sure she was still breathing, when she murmured, “How can I believe you?”
“I won’t lie to you.” Misdirect, maybe, he thought, feeling a pang of guilt. He’d omit. But flat-out lie? No.
“How do you think Christian would feel about seeing us...together?”
“I can’t be sure,” he admitted. Christian could love the idea or hate it. These days, he was hard to predict. “I think ultimately he’d go for it.”
“He might feel threatened if he imagines your loyalties are...divided.”
“He’s started to accept that you’ll be part of his life.”
“But he still wants you in his corner.”
Considering the kid’s occasional volatility, that was one way to put it. “We take it slow.”
“Immunize him?” she asked so politely he had to grin.
“Something like that.”
Dana looked down at her mostly untouched lunch. “I have to think about this.”
His body tensed. If he let her think too much, she’d circle around to being sure hooking up with him was a bad idea. He needed to sweep her away. Remind her she was a woman, and a lonely one. Offer her refuge in his arms.
“This seems so—” she frowned a little “—cold. As if we’re laying out a plan.”
Plan? Last word he could let cross her mind. And cold? That one he wouldn’t swallow.
He sat forward so fast the table rocked. Flattening both hands on the surface, he leaned forward and let her see his teeth. “When I’m thinking about you, I’m not cold.” She shrank back, but he didn’t let himself worry about it. “You don’t seem all that cold to me, either. I’ve seen your temper. And don’t tell me you didn’t feel the heat when I kissed you.”
She stared, eyes dark and turbulent. The air felt charged. His breathing sounded as if he’d just finished a hard sprint.
“I...didn’t mean...”
The obscenity he growled caused her to wince. Nolan forced himself to sit back. Damn it, what was wrong with him? Rubbing a hand over his face, he scrabbled for his usually rock-steady control. “I overreacted,” he admitted, wishing he knew why. The rasp in his voice told him he didn’t have it together yet.
“I wasn’t meaning to insult you.”
“I know you weren’t.” He rolled his shoulders. “You’re the one who asked my intentions. If my laying them out sounded cold-blooded to you, I can’t help that.”
“I’ve never seen you as cold.” The hand he could see curled into a knot loosened, knotted again. “You have too much temper for that.”
Her deliberate echo of what he’d said roused a whiff of amusement, bringing him down like nothing else could. Had she been teasing him?
Yeah, he decided, seeing the way she’d firmed her mouth as if to combat a smile. That was a good sign, right? And her hand had opened and relaxed.
“Why don’t you do your thinking while we get to know each other better?” he suggested. “How about dinner tomorrow night? And maybe you could spend at least part of Saturday working here with us.”
“I actually have plans Saturday.”
Like she’d had plans when he and Christian showed up on her doorstep with burgers and fries? He’d let himself keep believing he and Christian were the only two people she knew in town, but she had to be getting to know her coworkers, at the very least.
“What kind of plans?” he asked, hoping he sounded more casual than he felt. What if she’d gotten far enough with some guy to be dating?
“A woman I work with is new in Lookout, too,” Dana said, seeming oblivious to his instant fury. “This is her first job out of grad school. She suggested we take the Hood River Railroad excursion. It sounded like fun.”
As if a plug had been pulled, the testosterone-induced combativeness drained away. “I’ve never been on it, but it’s a popular tourist attraction. I hear it’s a good way to take in some scenery.”
“Would Sunday be okay?” she asked uncertainly. “I mean, to spend time with you and Christian?”
“Sure.” Disliking this roller coaster of emotions, he had to ask. “Is that a no about tomorrow night?”
“Oh.” She smiled. “No. I mean, it was a yes. If you think Christian will be okay with it.”
“Yeah. I’ll let him spend the night at Jason’s. Christian doesn’t have a gaming system at home. I didn’t want him to get addicted.”
Dana laughed, a ripple of sound that stirred the tiny hairs on his body. “Present the irresistible...”
“And he won’t so much as wonder what I’m doing.” An empty house. Matching her smile, Nolan regretted with every fiber of his being that it was way too soon to suggest she come home with him.