Tyler snapped the phone shut with a quick movement and slid it into his pocket. He stood on the inn’s porch, looking at the fishing boats moving down the channel. Josh’s early morning call probably meant nothing at all, but he couldn’t shake off the uneasiness that gripped him.
The fact that Josh, of all people, was in the office this early on a Monday morning was startling enough. The fact that Josh was concerned about business was downright astonishing.
Tyler planted his hands on the porch railing, wishing it were the polished surface of his desk. He’d talked with Henry several times over the last few days, and his assistant had assured him all was fine with the Warren deal. Henry had years of experience to back him up. Nevertheless—
In view of Josh’s concern it wouldn’t be a bad idea to go to the office for a couple of days. Sammy would understand if he explained it to him, wouldn’t he?
Miranda was another story. Instinct told him she wouldn’t look favorably on his leaving just when Sammy was warming up to him. Still, she’d been the one to mention the possibility that first night, when she’d brought her proposition to him.
That night had been a little over a week ago, but it felt like forever. In such a short time his life had changed beyond recognition. Would he go back, if he could, to a time before the photo of Sammy arrived on his desk?
A cold hand gripped his heart at the thought. If it hadn’t been for that mysterious visitor who’d mailed the picture to him, he might never have known he had a son.
Now that he did, his business success had become more meaningful. He had a son to inherit what he’d built, instead of just hordes of eager relatives with their hands out.
He didn’t intend to let anything sour this deal. If that meant a few days away from the island, so be it. Miranda would have to understand. He went quickly into the house.
He poked his head into the office, then walked through the dining room and the kitchen. No Miranda, but Sallie was pouring a cup of coffee.
“Miranda?” He raised his eyebrows.
She gestured with her mug toward the back door. “She’s out at the shed, working on Mary Lou.”
Mary Lou? He pushed through the screen door, then crossed the lawn to the weathered shed that sat on the edge of the marsh.
He paused in the doorway, letting his eyes adjust to the dim interior. Wearing her usual uniform of jeans and T-shirt, Miranda bent over an elderly bicycle, a can of oil in her hand. She’d tied her hair back with a yellow ribbon, but curls escaped to cluster against her neck.
“Performing surgery on that thing?” The bike in question was an old-fashioned girl’s bike with coaster brakes and a wicker basket attached to the handlebars. “It looks terminal.”
She looked up at his approach, giving him the smile that had once twisted his heart out of shape. Not any longer, he assured himself.
“How can you talk that way about Mary Lou? She’s one of my oldest friends.”
“I can believe the old part.” He squatted next to her. “Did someone take away your car keys?”
“No.” Her heart-shaped face took on a wary look. “Sammy’s getting a two-wheeler for his birthday, and I thought I’d get Mary Lou in shape so I can ride with him. Just until I’m sure he knows how to handle himself.”
“His birthday.” He repeated her words slowly. “When is it?”
“Thursday.” Miranda’s look turned defensive. “You knew the date. I showed you his birth certificate.”
Clearly something he should have remembered. He wasn’t very good at this father business. “You might have reminded me.”
Miranda stood, dusting off the knees of her jeans. She lifted the bike to spin the front wheel.
“I guess you know now.” Her voice was carefully neutral, as if she was determined not to betray whatever she thought about a father who didn’t remember his son’s birthday.
He stood, too, frowning. “About this bicycle…”
“I know she doesn’t look like much, but she’ll do for what I have in mind,” Miranda said quickly.
“Not this one, although I think you’re wrong about that. The bicycle Sammy is getting for his birthday. You’ve bought it already?”
“Not exactly.” The wariness was back in her eyes. “I ordered it. I have to go pick it up tomorrow.”
Resentment pricked him. “You’re giving Sammy a new bicycle for his birthday. What do I get to give him that could possibly be more exciting than that?”
She leaned the bike against a workbench. “We’re not in a competition, Tyler. Sammy will love whatever you give him.”
“I haven’t done very well so far.” Like the baseball glove, for instance.
She studied him for a moment, as if assessing how much it bothered him. “Well, how about if we go in on the bike together? Trust me, this is a gift he won’t turn down. He’s been wanting a new bike for ages.”
He’d like to find something even bigger than a bicycle, but he recognized how foolish that would be. He and Miranda weren’t competing, as she’d said. Little as he knew about parenting, he knew that wouldn’t be good for Sammy.
“Okay. The bike is from both of Sammy’s parents. Where do we pick it up?”
“You don’t have to go with me. I can manage it myself.”
That was predictable. “I’m sure you can, but you’re not going to.”
Her lips twitched. “Has anybody mentioned to you lately how stubborn you are?”
“Seems to me I’ve heard that a time or two. I don’t think I have a monopoly on it.”
Her smile took over, making her green eyes sparkle. “You may have a point there. Okay. I ordered it from a bike shop out on the highway near Savannah. They said I could pick it up tomorrow morning.”
“We’ll pick it up.”
He wasn’t sure how this had happened. Hadn’t he come out here to tell Miranda he had to run up to Baltimore tomorrow? Well, it didn’t have to be tomorrow, necessarily.
“By the way, I might need to go to the office for a couple of days soon.”
He almost imagined he saw regret in her eyes before her lashes swept down to hide her reaction. “Is that really necessary?”
Was it? He thought again of Josh’s call and of Henry’s reassurances. “I don’t know.” The uncharacteristic uncertainty made his voice sharp. “It may be. It was part of our agreement that I’d go back for a few days if I had to, remember?”
“I’m not the one you need to convince. If you’re going away, you’d best tell Sammy ahead of time.”
Amazing how difficult a simple thing like that sounded. “I thought maybe you’d do that,” he said, knowing what her answer would be.
Her smile flickered again. “Sorry. Breaking bad news is part of being a parent. You may as well start getting into practice.”
Oddly enough, he liked the fact that she expected something of him. “Meaning I don’t get to just do the fun stuff.”
“No way.” She wiped her hands with a paper towel from the workbench. “Do you really have to go to Baltimore? Can’t you take care of whatever it is from the Charleston office?”
He shook his head. “It’s an entirely different division.”
She looked at him blankly, and he realized he’d never talked to her about the changes that had taken place in the corporation over the past few years.
“Charleston is the home office for a group of textile mills in Georgia and South Carolina. We acquired them a couple of years ago. They fit in well with the rest of our holdings.”
“And this problem doesn’t have anything to do with textiles.” If she wondered why he’d decided to expand into her part of the world, she didn’t mention it.
“Right.” He rubbed the back of his neck, realizing that the familiar tension had taken up residence there since the talk with Josh. He hadn’t noticed it had all but disappeared during the past week. “We have an important meeting coming up soon over a contract to supply compressors for a company that could be a major new customer for us.”
She leaned against the workbench, looking for all the world as if she really was interested. “Are there problems with it?”
“There shouldn’t be.” Again that edge of tension pricked him. “The deal was completely in place when I left. Henry—my assistant, Henry Carmichael—should be able to handle everything without a hitch.”
“Then why do you feel you need to go back?”
It was a fair question, but he wasn’t used to explaining his actions to anyone. Parenthood changed that, too, it seemed.
“I had a call from Josh this morning. For some reason, he’s got the wind up. He can’t even tell me why. Just a feeling.” He shrugged. “Maybe he’s belatedly developing a sense of responsibility. He knows how important this is. Without this contract, we could be facing extensive layoffs. Nobody wants that.”
“I didn’t realize.” Miranda’s expressive eyes mirrored guilt. “I didn’t think about the people who might be affected by what you do.”
“It’s not something I can ever forget.” He shook his head. “I wish—”
“That you were there,” she finished for him.
He looked up, startled. “No. Actually, I was wishing I thought I could count on Josh the way you count on your family.”
“That’s what families are for. Counting on. And driving you crazy, of course.”
He liked the way her face softened when she talked about her family. Liked the way the Caldwells trusted each other, relied on each other.
“My father always said you can’t count on anyone but yourself,” he said abruptly, surprising himself. “That was his philosophy.”
She turned her soft look on him. “That doesn’t mean it has to be yours.”
“No.” He looked at that thought in some surprise. “I guess it doesn’t.”
The unaccustomed understanding seemed to weave strands of connection between them. He thought Miranda’s cheeks flushed a little.
“If you feel you have to go, I’m sure Sammy will understand.”
Will you, Miranda? This wasn’t about Miranda. This was about his commitment to his son.
“I won’t miss his birthday.” He said the words with a sureness that surprised him.
Priorities. His father had always put business first. That wasn’t the kind of father he wanted to be.
Approval shone in her eyes. “I’m glad you feel that way.”
“I’ll have Henry go over everything again, just to be on the safe side. It’ll be all right.”
If he did end up explaining to Sammy that he had to go away, he’d make very sure it was necessary.
He smiled wryly. Maybe the secret to this father business was to do the opposite of everything his father had done. That, and make sure what he did earned that soft look of approval from Miranda.
Had she handled that conversation with Tyler about business correctly? Miranda sat in the porch swing that evening, looking across the inland waterway. This situation was so difficult that, at every step, she felt she risked making an irrevocable move.
Tyler would probably have to figure out for himself where the balance was between business and parenting. No one else could determine that for him.
Her initial reaction, when she’d believed Tyler couldn’t hang around long enough to be any kind of a father, had certainly been easier to live with. But each day, Tyler continued to prove her wrong.
Lord, I confess I never really thought about the people who depend upon Tyler’s business. I’ve been so focused on the personal that I never looked beyond that. Forgive me for being so shortsighted.
A few feet away from her, Tyler and her father sat in matching rocking chairs, talking a little, then falling silent, then talking again. Their conversation wasn’t strained any longer, and she thanked God for that fact. If Tyler was to be a true father to Sammy, he had to be on cordial terms, at least, with the man who’d been both father and grandfather to Sammy since he was born.
What did Daddy think about all this? He’d maintained a careful silence on the subject, and she thought she knew why. Clayton Caldwell was an honorable man. He would never want to betray that he had a negative thought about the man who was Sammy’s father.
If Tyler wanted a model of what a father should be, he obviously couldn’t use his own. Her heart hurt when she thought of what Tyler had betrayed about his relationship with his father. Given that model, it was a wonder he was even trying.
He was trying, and she had to help him. The better a father Tyler was by the time he left the island, the safer she could feel about sending Sammy to spend time with him.
Tyler was leaning forward, arguing some point with her father in a friendly way. She let her gaze linger on the stubborn line of his jaw, the flash of interest in his eyes, the vigor of his movement when he gestured. The same determination to succeed that had fueled twenty-year-old Tyler’s will to take over the company when his father died could make him succeed at fatherhood.
She had to help him, and that meant she had to let him take equal responsibility for both the joys and difficulties of raising Sammy. That meant no more unilateral decisions about her son. She suspected Tyler could never guess just how difficult that was for her.
Help me with this one, Lord. I’m not good at sharing where Sammy is concerned. Next to You, Daddy will be the best model of a father Tyler is likely to find. Please, open his heart to Daddy and to You.
The screen door creaked, and Sammy bounded onto the porch. He made a beeline for Tyler, who stopped what he was saying to smile at him.
“What’s up?”
Sammy grabbed the arm of the rocker. “Well, I was thinking about when we could go back to Angel Isle to look for the dolphin again. You and Momma said we’d go again, remember?”
“I remember.” Tyler tousled Sammy’s hair, and their son grinned. “And if I’d forgotten, I’m sure you’d remind me.”
“I was thinking we could go this weekend. If we went on Saturday, we’d have lots of time.”
She’d half hoped Sammy had forgotten about this. Clearly her son had inherited his father’s single-minded determination.
“Sammy, you know that folks have looked for the dolphin for a long time without finding it,” her father said. “Seems like maybe we’ll have to get used to doing without it.”
Sammy shook his head. “I just think maybe I’m going to be the one to find it. And think how happy Great-Gran will be.”
Sadness touched her father’s eyes. “I guess she would be, at that.”
“So could we go on Saturday?” He rocked back and forth on his toes, all energy and stubbornness.
“I suppose—” she began.
“Maybe we can find some day other than this Saturday,” Tyler said.
Startled, she met his eyes and realized she’d just done what she’d promised herself she wouldn’t do—she’d started to make a decision without consulting him. She’d have to unlearn the habits of the past eight years to make this work.
“Do you have something else planned for Saturday?” She hoped he could see the apology in her eyes.
“Actually, I was hoping you and Sammy would spend Saturday and Sunday in Charleston with me.”
“Charleston?” In all the days he’d gone off to the city, it had never occurred to her that he’d want them to go along.
Tyler looked from her to their son. “The manager of our Charleston subsidiary invited us to come and spend the weekend. He has a boy just about your age.” He touched Sammy lightly. “Sammy could stay with him and his sitter while we go with Dan and Sheila to a charity concert. It’s to raise money for Habitat for Humanity.” He waited for Miranda’s response.
She sat immobile for a moment. It was a good thing she hadn’t blurted her first reaction, because that would have been a resounding no.
Part of the problem was that she knew exactly what benefit concert Tyler was talking about—a huge, expensive, dressy affair for the cream of Charleston society. People with whom Tyler would feel right at home. And she would feel about as welcome as a skunk at a picnic.
She couldn’t say any of the things she was thinking in front of her father and Sammy. She summoned a smile. “Let me think about it, okay?”
Eyes questioning, he nodded.
She turned to Sammy, who didn’t look thrilled at the idea, either. “Sugar, you have next Monday off from school for a teacher in-service day. Why don’t we plan to go then? We can take a picnic lunch, and we’ll have all afternoon to do a good search.”
The pout that hovered on Sammy’s face disappeared. “Can we build a fire and cook hot dogs on it?”
“I don’t see why not.” The way to a growing boy’s heart must be through his stomach.
“Okay. I’m going to tell Theo. I’ll bet he’ll wish the high school had a day off, too.” He darted inside, the screen door slamming.
Before she could muster a reasonable excuse for delaying an answer on the trip to Charleston, her father leaned forward, pressing his palms against the rocker’s arms.
“I thought for sure that boy would forget about looking for the dolphin with all the other things that are going on.”
“He’s certainly obsessed with it.” Tyler’s gaze met hers, and she knew what he was thinking. He was afraid Sammy had a reason besides pleasing Gran for his search.
“The dolphin’s brought us enough sorrow.” The lines deepened in her father’s face. “I hate to see another generation get caught up in the trouble my brother and I caused.”
“It wasn’t your fault,” she said quickly. “You didn’t take the dolphin, Uncle Jeff did.”
“He took it, but I’m just as much to blame for what followed.”
“But—”
“Hush, Miranda. I mean what I say. I took that grievance against my brother and added it to all the other things I thought he’d done wrong. Told myself I’d bailed him out for the last time.”
“That’s understandable.” She hated that Tyler was hearing this. “You were the one who was hurt.”
He shook his head. “I never really gave Jeff a chance after that. I judged him without even realizing I was doing it. And every time he did something I thought was wrong, I just added it to that scale I was making.”
“Daddy, it’s not your fault that Uncle Jeff is the way he is.” He was expressing feelings she’d never guessed at, and doing it in front of Tyler, of all people. “Anyway, things are better between you now, aren’t they?”
“Better.” He stood. “Maybe that’s what helped me see that I’d done as much wrong in judging him as he’d ever done.” He smacked the bad leg he’d had ever since the night the dolphin vanished. “My attitude toward my brother hurt me as much as this leg ever did.”
She could feel the tears sparkle in her eyes, and she blinked them back. “I never knew you felt that way. I just thought—”
“You just thought your uncle Jeff was a man without honor, ‘cause that’s what you’ve heard me say. But if Jeff was at fault, I was, too. Maybe if I’d stayed his friend and brother like I should have, I’d have helped him to be a man our momma and daddy would have been proud of.”
Before she could say anything else, he stalked into the house.
She wiped an errant tear away with her fingers. Not speaking, Tyler got up from his chair and came to sit on the swing next to her. It rocked with his movement, then settled.
“All these years, and I never knew he felt that way,” she said softly.
Tyler stretched his arm along the swing behind her. It felt strong and secure.
“Your father’s an honest man. Not many people would hold themselves to that standard of conduct.”
“No, they wouldn’t.” Did she dare believe he admired her father’s character?
“About the dolphin.” He hesitated, frowning. “We probably ought to talk about this. About what’s behind Sammy’s determination to find it.”
Was Sammy hoping the dolphin could bring his parents together again? She’d wrestled with it, and she didn’t have an answer.
If that was what Sammy wanted, he would think the dolphin was already working if he saw them sitting so close to each other.
She tried to discern Tyler’s expression in the dusk. How awkward he must find this situation. It would be even more awkward if he knew what her heart was telling her.
“Maybe we ought to talk to him about the whole thing,” she said.
“That’s what I thought at first,” he said slowly. An expression she couldn’t identify crossed his face. “Now I’m thinking that might be a mistake.”
“But if he’s imagining we’re going to get back together if he finds the dolphin—”
“What if he’s not thinking anything of the kind? What if this is a complication we’ve imagined that’s never even occurred to him?”
She stared at her hands, twisted together in her lap. “If we bring it up, he’ll certainly think about it then.”
“Exactly. We might be starting a problem instead of solving it.”
“So what do you suggest we do about it?” She looked at him, troubled.
“Let’s not say anything for the moment.”
His hand rested lightly on her shoulder, and she could feel the weight of his arm across her back. She let herself imagine he was sending out messages of protection and caring.
“If that is what he’s thinking, maybe he’ll bring it up himself when we go back to the cottage,” he went on. “If not, well, we’ll have to deal with it once he’s convinced the dolphin is gone for good.”
She wanted to argue, but she hesitated. She’d promised herself she’d share responsibility for decisions involving Sammy. Now she had a chance to prove she meant it.
“All right,” she said reluctantly. “We’ll do it your way.”