“Nina, honey, I have to talk to you about your baby.”

Memories flooded back—a scrunched face, tiny fingers, a warmth against her breast. For a few minutes she’d known pure joy…then the nurse had taken her baby away and Nina had signed the adoption papers with tears blurring her vision. When she was sure her voice wouldn’t shake she said, “What about her?”

“She’s living forty miles south of Vancouver in Beach Grove,” Dora said softly.

“H-how do you know?”

“Her mother called me. Apparently the girl has run away and is looking for her biological parents.”

“Why did—?” She stopped. “I don’t even know her name.”

“Amy,” Dora replied.

“Amy,” Nina repeated. In her heart she’d always thought of her as Sweetpea. “Why did she run away?”

“She found out accidentally that she was adopted.”

“How did she find out?”

“She gave birth to a child of her own, a little girl,” Dora said. “She had complications and—”

“Wait a minute—Amy had a baby?” Nina whirled to face her mother. “I’m a grandmother?”

Dear Reader,

When I was growing up I lived a couple of miles from where Reid’s fictional house is set, high on the hill with a view of Boundary Bay and Mount Baker. I have so many fond memories of the beach, it seemed a natural place to set Beach Baby.

As a little girl I roamed happily over sandbars and shallows with my sisters and brother as we hunted for crabs and sand dollars. My mother taught us to swim in the sun-warmed waters and we built forts out of driftwood on the beach. As we grew older we rode our horses across the tidal flats.

When my own children were young I took them to the same beach and relived a happy childhood through their eyes. Now when I visit my hometown I walk along the dike and dream of the good old days.

If the idyllic summer setting of Beach Baby was an exercise in nostalgia, writing about parenting a mischievous toddler was a reminder of the busy, distracted life of a young mother. In Beach Baby Nina has the added challenge of dealing with an ex-fiancé, two teenagers and a whole host of extended and blended family.

I had a lot of fun writing this book, and I hope you enjoy reading it. I love to hear from readers. Please write to me at P.O. Box 234, Point Roberts, WA 98281-0234, or visit me at www.joankilby.com.

Sincerely,

Joan Kilby

Beach Baby
Joan Kilby

www.millsandboon.co.uk

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

When Joan Kilby isn’t working on her next romance novel she can often be found sipping a latte at a sidewalk café and indulging in her favorite pastime of people watching. Originally from Vancouver, Canada, she now lives in Australia with her husband and three children. She enjoys cooking as a creative outlet and gets some of her best story ideas while watching her Jack Russell terrier chase waves at the beach.

To Becky, Gael and Johnny for many

happy childhood memories at the beach.

Contents

CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER THREE

CHAPTER FOUR

CHAPTER FIVE

CHAPTER SIX

CHAPTER SEVEN

CHAPTER EIGHT

CHAPTER NINE

CHAPTER TEN

CHAPTER ELEVEN

CHAPTER TWELVE

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

CHAPTER ONE

Midnight, Paris. Luke Mann lurked in a darkened doorway listening for muted footsteps. Tucked inside his leather bomber jacket were documents that could bring down a Middle Eastern government. A dash across the cobbled street and he would be inside the safe house, his mission accomplished. Spurred on by visions of a peaceful retirement in a sun-drenched Tuscan villa, Luke stepped out of the shadows.

An Uzi submachine gun rent the stillness. Rat-a-tat-tat—

REID ROBERTSON STARED at the computer screen. Now what? Why was he killing off Luke just as he was about to retire? Come to think of it, why was Luke retiring when he was only forty-five? Maybe Luke was merely wounded. Maybe the guy with the Uzi would miss. Maybe there was no Uzi. Maybe Reid wanted that villa in Tuscany.

From Tara’s upstairs bedroom came the reedy scrape of a bow traveling up and down a minor scale. Distracted, Reid dragged both hands through his hair. He shouldn’t complain; at least she was practicing. He gazed past the computer monitor, out the window of his beach house. Tidal flats shimmered under the hot August sun, yanking Reid’s mind further away from dark alleys.

Sales on his ten previous spy thrillers were respectable but Reid wanted this book to break out, maybe even make the New York Times bestseller list. If he didn’t fold under the pressure of the deadline his agent had talked him into so the book would be out in time for Christmas, the new Luke Mann story could lift Reid into the major leagues.

The doorbell rang. Reid groaned at the interruption. Daisy, his golden retriever, raised her muzzle off his bare toes and lumbered to her feet to follow him out of his office and down the hallway.

Reid opened the door. If this was another Boy Scout selling raffle tickets—

“Amy!”

His other daughter, the one he couldn’t acknowledge but who occupied a special place in his heart as his first born, stood on the doorstep. He hadn’t seen her for three years and suddenly, or so it seemed, the braces had come off, her skin had cleared and she was all grown up. In her arms she held a little girl about a year old with curly red hair and curious blue eyes.

“Hey, Reid. How’re you doing?” Amy licked her lips nervously as she shifted the child to her other hip. Her naturally blond hair swung almost to her waist and she wore a low-slung long cotton skirt and a batik top that left her taut midriff bare. “I was in the neighborhood and thought I’d drop in.”

In the neighborhood? Amy lived clear across the country in Halifax. Although come to think of it, Reid hadn’t heard from her in over a year, even though he regularly sent cards and letters—in the guise of a favorite “uncle,” that is.

“Come in.” He stepped back, noticing now that her hair needed washing and her clothes looked as though she’d slept in them. With a glance at the toddler, he added, “Who’s this?”

“My daughter, Beebee,” Amy said.

Reid did his best to hide his shock. The last time he’d talked to Amy she’d been excited about getting the lead role in her high-school play. Now she was a mom and this was no dress rehearsal. But she was too young!

Despite his misgivings he was drawn irresistibly to stroke the child’s downy cheek. “Hi there, sweetheart.”

Amy tightened her grip with an anxious glance at her daughter. “She makes strange.”

Maybe, yet at Reid’s touch the little girl’s face crinkled into a dimpled smile. She chuckled softly as she gazed up at him from beneath curly dark brown lashes. Reid smiled back. “You’re a little charmer, aren’t you?”

“Well, what do you know?” Amy said with a wondering grin. “She likes you.”

“Of course she does.” And Reid couldn’t help being tickled at finding himself a grandfather to such a cutie. “When did she come along?”

“Nearly twelve months ago.” Amy’s smile faded as she assessed Reid. “Didn’t Jim and Elaine tell you?”

Jim and Elaine? Since when had she stopped calling her parents Mom and Dad?

“Elaine didn’t send her usual chatty letter with the Christmas card this year.” He’d wondered about that but assumed she’d been too busy. Reid knew what that was like. Since Carol had passed away he often didn’t get around to cards until it was so late he was embarrassed to send them. He picked up Amy’s duffel bag. “Come in.”

Amy glanced around the foyer at the brilliant white walls, dark chocolate floorboards and tall vase of blue and purple hydrangeas next to a slim mahogany table. “You have a nice place.”

“Thanks.” Carol had had good taste; he, on the other hand, lived inside his head and barely noticed his surroundings. “Do your parents know where you are?”

Amy tossed her head. “If you mean Jim and Elaine, they’re not my parents.”

Jim and Elaine not her parents? Had they finally told her she was adopted? Reid had warned them that someday Amy would discover the truth. It looked as if that day had come at last.

The nervous energy that had carried Amy this far suddenly seemed to evaporate. “Do you think I could sit down?” she said. “I walked from the bus stop at the shopping center and Beebee’s getting too big to carry.”

“You should have called me. I’d have picked you up.” Reid led the way past the formal living room he rarely used to the family room adjoining the kitchen. A wall of windows overlooked the bay and French doors led onto a small lawn separated from the beach by a retaining wall. “I’ll get you both a cold drink. Then you’d better start at the beginning and tell me everything.”

Tara appeared at the top of the stairs, her violin hanging loosely at her side. At fifteen, she was tall and graceful with a pale oval face and long chestnut-brown hair. “Who’s here?”

“You remember Amy, the daughter of our friends in Halifax?” Reid said. “And this is her little girl, Beebee.”

“Hi, Tara.” Amy smiled warmly. “Long time no see.”

“Hi.” Tara’s gaze flicked to Beebee, surprise and curiosity evident in the slight lift of her dark eyebrows. Well she might wonder—Amy was barely nineteen.

“Go ahead and finish practicing,” Reid told Tara. “Amy needs to recuperate from her trip.”

Reid brought a pitcher of orange juice and a plate of muffins into the sun-filled room facing the beach and set them on the glass coffee table in front of the wicker couch. He waited while Amy and Beebee drank thirstily, then asked, “Was it Beebee’s arrival that caused the rift between you and the Hockings?”

“They blew their stack when I got pregnant,” Amy admitted. “Then during the birth I had complications requiring a blood transfusion. Neither of them were a match. That’s when I found out I wasn’t their biological daughter.” She sat forward on the couch, her fingers curled tightly into her palms. “I confronted them and they admitted I was adopted.”

Reid would never forget the day Nina gave Amy up in a private adoption. He’d been heartbroken. And furious with Nina for giving away their child without his knowledge or consent. Later, after they’d said irretrievable words that had broken them apart forever, he’d also been furious at himself for not being with her sooner, when she’d needed him.

“It’s true,” Amy said, taking his silence for disbelief. “All those years they let me believe I was their child.”

“You’re still their daughter,” he said. “They raised you as their own, loved and cared for you.”

“My whole life has been a lie. I’m not sure I’ll ever forgive them.” Amy picked up her muffin then set it down again, untasted. “It wasn’t just that they’d lied, although that was bad enough. When I got pregnant they tried to pressure me to marry Ian—Beebee’s father. They said they were too old to raise her and I was too young to do it on my own.” Her voice tightened and became fierce. “I’m not too young to be a mother.”

In Reid’s eyes she was still a little girl, but he remembered being nineteen, headstrong and so certain he was as mature as any adult. “No,” he said, quietly. “You’re not too young.”

“I knew you’d understand.” Amy blotted her eyes with the back of her hand. “You’ve known me all my life. Did you know I was adopted?”

Reid hesitated. The Hockings had allowed him contact with his daughter on the condition that he never tell Amy he was her biological father or that she was adopted. Even now they must not have told her the whole truth or she would never have come to him.

Luckily for him, Beebee chose that moment to wriggle off her mother’s lap and drop to the floor. Within seconds the toddler was pushing at the French doors.

“Come back, Beebs.” Amy ran after her daughter and swung her into her arms. “She’s a miniature Houdini. She can open practically any door,” Amy said almost proudly. “You have to watch her all the time.”

“She’s certainly fast on her feet,” Reid said, seizing the opportunity to steer the subject away from himself. “How old did you say she was?”

“Eleven months and one week,” Amy told him. “She was walking at nine months and saying her first words at ten.”

“What about Ian?” Reid asked, trying to recall what Elaine had told him about Amy’s unassuming young boyfriend. “Is he in the picture?”

“No,” Amy said decisively. She sat back down with Beebee on her lap and curled her arms protectively around her child. “We were living together up until I got on the bus to come out here. Now I don’t want anything more to do with him. He’s a murderer.”

Reid’s eyebrows rose and he bit his lip to suppress a smile at Amy’s melodramatic emphasis. “Don’t tell me Ian’s turned to crime,” he joked.

Amy closed her eyes on a long shudder. “He got a job in a meat-packing plant.”

“A meat-packing plant? You mean, as in food?” Perhaps it wasn’t the high-flying career a father might wish for in a son-in-law but it was honest work. “Is that why you broke up with him and moved across the country?”

“You act like it’s nothing! They slaughter animals and wrap their body parts in plastic.”

Reid thought of the defrosted chicken thighs sitting in his fridge, ready to be cooked for dinner. “I’m sure he only wanted to support you and Beebee.”

“Well, yes, but he’s a vegetarian just like I am,” Amy cried. “So what if the job pays well? Where are his principles?”

“Jobs are tight and you two probably need the money,” Reid argued.

“I was working part-time at the grocery store. He could have looked around for something better.” Amy dug a purple stuffed rhinoceros out of her duffel bag to distract Beebee, who was again eyeing the doors longingly. “Oh, you don’t understand.”

“No, I don’t.” Reid couldn’t help feeling sorry for Ian whose main crime seemed to be a sense of responsibility and a desire to take care of his family. There had to be more to their break up than simply Ian’s choice of work. “What are you going to do?”

“I’ve come to Vancouver to work in the movie industry,” Amy said, brightening. “I’m going to be an actress. It’s what I’ve always wanted ever since I was a little girl.”

“Amy, be sensible,” he said, filled with dismay.

“Don’t you start in on me. You’re not my father.”

Reid bit his tongue. Now that Amy knew she was adopted, was the promise he’d made to the Hockings still binding? He’d never agreed with their decision not to tell her even though Elaine had strong reasons but he’d better not say anything until he spoke to them. “Toronto has a film industry,” he pointed out. “Why didn’t you go there? It’s not as far to travel.”

“I don’t know anyone in Toronto,” Amy said. “I wanted to get as far away as possible from Jim and Elaine. And Ian. Besides, you’re here.” Amy’s eyes grew large as she kneaded her fingers into the soft fabric of her skirt. “Could Beebee and I stay with you awhile? Just until I get a job. We won’t be any trouble, I promise. I’ll help with housework and stuff.”

Reid had wanted to be a father to Amy ever since the too-brief moment when he’d seen her puckered newborn face and felt her tiny hand curl around his finger. His heart leaped at the thought of her and Beebee living in his house. But he had a book deadline—how would he ever finish with the two of them around? And what about Tara? Although Carol had known Amy was his daughter, Tara didn’t. How would she take to having Amy and her young child, virtual strangers to Tara, sharing their home, interrupting their quiet lives?

“You should call Jim and Elaine, let them know where you are and that you’re safe,” he said, stalling. “They must be worried to death.”

“If I do that, can I stay?”

She looked so desperate Reid wondered if she’d used her last dime to pay for the bus ticket out west. “Of course,” he relented. “You’re welcome in my house for as long as you want.”

“Thank you, Reid. This is going to be so cool.” Amy jumped up and hugged him. “There’s another reason I came out west.”

“What’s that?” he asked.

“Elaine told me I was born in Vancouver and given to them in a private adoption,” Amy replied. “She wouldn’t tell me who my biological parents are but I’m going to find them. I’m going to find my mother and father.”

God help him, Reid thought. He ought to tell her the truth right now. That he, who’d followed her progress from hand puppets to art-house productions, was the father she was seeking. He ached to tell her. But she wouldn’t see the truth his way. She would run from him, too, if she found out he’d also lied to her all her life. Where would she and Beebee go with no money and no friends or family to stay with? On the street, in a shelter?

Later, he’d tell her, when she’d settled in, when she wasn’t so fragile and hurt. He just hoped he found the right time before she discovered who he was.

And before she found Nina.

“NINA, HONEY, THERE’S something I have to tell you.” Dora Kennerly wiped her sudsy hands on a tea towel and sat opposite Nina at the kitchen table. Her tired hazel eyes appeared anxious but a hopeful smile played about her lips.

“Good news?” Nina took off her suit jacket, having gone from her air-conditioned BMW to the sweltering heat of her parents’ tiny bungalow on Vancouver’s east side. Today the temperature had climbed into the nineties—almost unheard of in Vancouver.

“I think so.” Dora wore a cheap cotton housedress and thin leather sandals, and dyed her graying auburn hair herself yet she had a serenity and an optimism that decades of low income couldn’t extinguish. “I mean yes, it’s wonderful news.”

Nina produced her weekly gift of a box of her mother’s favorite chocolates and handed it across the table. “Have one of these to celebrate.”

Dora peeled the cellophane off and lifted the lid. Eyes closed, she breathed in the rich chocolate aroma then gave Nina a beatific smile. “You spoil me.”

“You deserve it,” Nina said. Her mother and father had a hard life with few luxuries. They wouldn’t accept Nina’s offers of trips or clothes or a new car, so she gave them small treats like Belgian chocolates and Cuban cigars, specialty teas and subscriptions to magazines. Without asking, she’d had their old water heater replaced and paid to have the house painted. They’d made sacrifices to give her an education and she wanted to repay them now that she was able to.

Dora chose a chocolate and popped it whole into her mouth, then pushed the box across the table.

Reluctantly, Nina waved it away. “I’m on a diet.”

“You’re already thin,” Dora scolded, her voice thick with chocolate. “I don’t know when you eat. While other people are having dinner, you’re in the studio. Would you like me to heat up some cabbage rolls?”

“No, thanks,” Nina said. “You know I can’t stomach food before I go on air.” She picked up a drugstore flyer to fan her face, lifting wisps of blond hair away from her damp skin and made a mental note to have an air conditioner delivered. “You were about to tell me something important.”

Dora reached across the table to take Nina’s hands in her cool dry fingers. “It’s about your baby. Can you believe it’s been nineteen years?” She shook her head. “Time goes so fast.”

Nina tugged away and rose to go to the cupboard for a glass. Memories flooded back—a scrunched face, tiny fingers, a weightless warmth against her breast. For a few minutes she’d known pure joy…then the nurse had taken her baby away and Nina had signed the adoption papers with tears blurring her vision. Now she ran the water till it was cool, then filled the tumbler and drank. When she was sure her voice wouldn’t shake she said, “What about her?”

“She’s living forty miles south of Vancouver in Beach Grove,” Dora said softly.

Nina lost her grip and the glass dropped into the sink with a clatter. The adoptive parents had moved across the country to Halifax. For years afterward Nina had ached for her lost child the way an amputee aches for his severed limb. Through sheer effort of will she’d put the whole painful episode behind her. Now her child was nearby and Nina’s heart quickened as if her daughter were in the next room. “H-how do you know?”

“Her mother, Elaine Hocking, called me,” Dora said. “Apparently the girl has run away and is looking for her biological parents.”

Elaine and Jim Hocking, the wealthy older couple Dora had cleaned house for who couldn’t have a child of their own. Nina sat down with a thump. She used to fantasize that this day would come but had never dared to truly hope.

“I know this is a shock,” Dora said. “This wasn’t supposed to happen. The Hockings never wanted their daughter to know she was adopted.”

“I never understood that,” Nina said. “Why not?”

“Apparently Elaine Hocking was herself adopted into a family who had tried for years unsuccessfully to have a child,” Dora explained. “No sooner had they got Elaine than the woman became pregnant. Elaine says she was treated diffrerently from the biological child and never felt as loved or as special. She didn’t want her adopted daughter to feel in the slightest way second rate so they let her believe she was theirs in every way possible.”

“I should never have given my baby up,” Nina said. “I should have tried to keep her somehow.” But at the time she’d felt she’d had no choice.

The summer after she’d finished high school, she’d worked at a golf course in the same beach community where her daughter was now. That’s where she’d met Reid Robertson, the father of her child and the love of her life. When the summer was over, he’d left his lifeguard job and gone back to Yale with a pledge of love and a promise to return. But when Nina had found herself pregnant, Reid’s mother had stepped into the picture.

Serena, smoothly coiffed and impeccably groomed, had craftily treated Nina as an equal collaborator in her determination to do what was best for Reid. Nina had been swayed by her arguments, too young and inexperienced, too in awe of the Robertsons’ wealth and social standing, to realize how controlling Serena was.

Maybe if Reid had been closer to home and he and Nina could have talked face-to-face, things might have turned out differently. He called her every week but that wasn’t enough to counteract Serena’s intimidating personality. Over a formal luncheon for two at the Robertsons’ mansion in Shaughnessy, Serena calmly, rationally, kindly, explained how Nina was ruining her son’s life.

“He says he’s going to quit university and find a job to support you and the baby,” Serena said. “Naturally, I only want what’s best for you both but such a course of action would be a terrible waste of his potential, don’t you agree?”

“Yes, of course.” Nina watched Serena to see which fork and knife she used on the radicchio salad served by a uniformed maid. “He loves Yale. I don’t want him to give it up.”

“Just imagine the scenario that would follow,” Serena went on. “He’d end up in some dreadful job for minimum wage, in a fast-food joint or washing cars. Probably he’d have to work two jobs just to make ends meet without a spare moment to write his stories. Within a year or two he’d resent you and the baby. Oh, he wouldn’t say anything, not Reid, but you would know how he felt deep inside. You would feel responsible.” Serena drank from a crystal water goblet then delicately blotted her mouth with a linen napkin. “I’d hate to think what that would do to your relationship.”

Nina knew all about Reid’s dream of becoming a writer, how much it meant to him and how tenaciously he was pursuing it. It was his unshakable belief in himself, his utter certainty about what he wanted to do with his life that she most admired about him.

“The last thing I want is for Reid to give up on becoming a writer,” Nina said. She smiled her thanks to the maid who’d silently removed her salad and replaced it with salmon. “But does he need to go to university to do that? And if he did quit to get a job, would it have to be such a poor one? Couldn’t he work for Mr. Robertson and write on the side?”

Exactly what kind of work Reid might do for his father, Nina had only a vague idea. The Robertson family had made their money several generations ago in the mining industry and now were diversified into many areas including property development and light manufacturing.

“Those two men!” Serena shook her head with an exasperated sigh and a conspiratorial smile that suggested she and Nina were allies. “These days they’re like a couple of bull moose butting antlers in the forest. Reid is determined to be independent. Reginald point-blank refuses to give Reid a job if he quits university to get married. Not that Reid expects or even wants to work for his father but he would do it for the baby. If his father would agree, which he won’t. Nor will Reginald give Reid any money to continue university if he marries. So you see, my dear, Reid is damned if he does and damned if he doesn’t.”

“I’ll go away,” Nina blurted. “I’ll have the baby on my own. When Reid’s finished studying we can be together.”

Even as she said it, she wondered how she would manage. Her father had lost his job as a longshoreman and his unemployment benefits had run out. Leo’s pride prevented him from applying for welfare and Nina had inherited the same stubborn conviction that a person should support herself. The family couldn’t live on what her mother made cleaning houses; they’d been counting on Nina finding a job and bringing in income. That was before she got pregnant.

“My dear, you know Reid,” Serena said, her smooth, confiding tone honeyed with a mother’s indulgent smile. “With his strong sense of responsibility—quite remarkable in someone so young—he would never allow you to do that.”

What she said was true, Nina realized. Reid would put her and the baby first, even if it was to his disadvantage.

“Please don’t think it’s you Reginald and I object to,” Serena went on. “Or your family. It’s just that you and Reid are so young. You’ve got your whole lives ahead of you. But if you and he marry and have a baby…” She trailed away, having already painted Nina a bleak picture of the future.

Serena was right. It would be a disaster for Reid. The last thing she wanted was to hold him back, or worse, have him hate and resent her. And she didn’t think she could raise her baby without him. Nina put down her knife and fork, too sick at heart to eat any more of the exquisite food.

“But what can I do?” Nina said. “It’s too late for me to have an abortion. And I wouldn’t want to, anyway.” She was only four months along but already she had a fierce love for her little sweetpea.

With a sympathetic smile, Serena reached across the table and placed a manicured hand atop Nina’s. “There’s a lovely couple in our sailing club, Jim and Elaine Hocking. They’re a little older and can’t have children of their own. Your mother knows them—she cleans their house. Jim and Elaine would give your baby a warm, loving home with every advantage.”

Surrounded by fine china and old silver, with the scent of roses wafting through the open window on the warm breeze, Nina began to cry. She thought about her situation and knew she wanted the best for her baby. And she knew, too, that that was something she couldn’t give.

Still feeling a gentle pressure on her fingers, Nina swallowed. Then she heard her name spoken, bringing her back to the present. It was Dora who was squeezing her hand.

“With all my heart I wish your father and I had been able to talk you out of giving up your baby,” Dora said. “If only you’d accepted Reid’s proposal—”

“Marrying Reid wasn’t an option.” Agitated, Nina paced the small space between table and stove. “All he ever dreamed of was being a writer. If we’d married he’d have ended up flipping burgers and wondering which he hated more, his job or me. Cutting him loose was the best thing I ever did. For all of us.”

When Reid had come home from Yale for the birth and found out she’d given up their baby for adoption, they’d had a raging fight. Before her eyes, she saw his love for her shrivel and fade, like a wisp of black smoke. She’d felt angry then, too, and betrayed. After giving up their baby for his sake and for the sake of their future together, she’d lost his love anyway. Her sacrifice had been for nothing. Now all she had left were regrets.

Forget Reid. Forget his quirky smile and intelligent eyes, the way he made her laugh, the way he’d made her shiver and burn when his hands moved over her skin.

Forget Reid? Nina sighed. She’d never managed that.

“Why did—?” she began then stopped. “I don’t even know her name.”

“Amy,” Dora replied.

“Amy,” Nina repeated. In her heart she’d always thought of her as sweetpea. That is, when she allowed herself to think of her at all. “Why did she run away?”

“She found out accidentally that she wasn’t Elaine and Jim’s biological child and was angry at them for not telling her she was adopted.”

“How did she find out?”

Dora hesitated. “She gave birth to a child of her own, a little girl,” Dora said. “She had complications and—”

“Wait a minute—Amy had a baby?” Nina whirled to face Dora. “I’m a grandmother?”

“And I’m a great grandmother.” Dora blinked as if she could hardly believe it, either. “The child is nearly a year old. She’s called Bea or something. I didn’t quite catch it.”

“I’m thirty-seven,” Nina said. “Which means Amy would have been only—” quickly she did the mental calculations “—eighteen when she had her baby.” Nina leaned her head against her hands. Like mother, like daughter. She tried to imagine Amy as an adult, but the face was a blank. Stabbed by that terrible sense of loss all over again, Nina asked, “Did she give her baby up for adoption, too?”

“No, she left home to live with the baby’s father then she quarreled with him and came out west.” Dora bit her bottom lip. “She asked Elaine for your contact details and Elaine called me wanting to know if she should give Amy your name and address. I hadn’t heard from Elaine since they moved back east. It’s a good thing you’ve never managed to convince your dad and me to move to a fancy apartment or she might not have found us.”

Nina looked up. “Did you give her my phone number?”

“I wouldn’t do that without consulting you,” Dora said. “But I did manage to wangle Amy’s local address out of Elaine.”

Her daughter was no longer a hazy memory consigned to the past but a real person confronting her in the here and now, maybe asking hard questions like Why didn’t Nina find a way to keep her? Despite having sworn off chocolate, Nina fumbled in the box and popped a rich dark piece in her mouth.

The back door opened and Leo Kennerly came in from the yard. “Nina, I didn’t know you were here.”

Leo worked as a handyman and gardener these days. His blond hair was graying but his blue eyes were still sharp; his work shirt was worn but his shoulders were still broad. He took a can of beer from the fridge and popped the tab.

Nina rose to greet him with a kiss on his cheek. “Mom was telling me about Amy.”

Leo took a long drink of his beer then pressed the cold can against his sweaty neck. “I’d think twice before you interfere in the girl’s life. She’s not your responsibility.”

“I don’t want to interfere,” Nina said. “She wants to meet me and I’d like to meet her.”

“This isn’t about obligation, Leo,” Dora said. “It’s about connecting with your own flesh and blood.”

“Amy’s upset with the Hockings for lying to her,” Leo said. “How do you know she’s not angry with Nina for giving her up as a baby?”

“You’ve got a point,” Nina conceded. “Amy might feel I abandoned her.” What if Amy rejected her? She didn’t know if she could bear it.

“If Amy was angry she wouldn’t come looking for you, Nina,” Dora countered. “She deserves to know her biological family. Jim and Elaine never should have kept that from her.”

“The Hockings are her real parents,” Leo said. “With Nina the link is only genetic, bits of DNA she has in common with Amy.”

“You don’t mean that,” Dora protested. “Family is family.”

Leo put his arm around Nina’s shoulders and pulled her close. “I just don’t want Nina to get hurt.”

“And I want her to know the joy of having a daughter.” Dora’s face softened into a smile. “And a granddaughter.”

Nina broke free of her father’s embrace and raised her hands to halt the exchange. “Dad, I know you want the best for me but if I can do anything for my daughter at all, even if it’s only to satisfy her curiosity, then I want to make up for the lost years. Mom, do you have her address?”

Dora rose and went to the notepad beside the phone and tore off a slip of paper. “Here it is.”

Nina raised her eyebrows when she saw the street name in the upmarket beachside community where she’d met Reid so many years ago. “Is she renting? How can she afford that area?”

“I, uh, believe she’s staying with a friend of Jim and Elaine’s,” Dora said. Leo choked on his beer.

“Are you all right, Dad?” Nina asked.

“He’s fine.” Dora thumped him on the back and threw him a warning glare.

Nina wondered briefly what that was all about but she didn’t have time to find out. She stuffed the paper into her purse and glanced at her watch. “I’m going to be late for my show.”

“Call me as soon as you’ve made contact.” Dora put her arm around her daughter’s waist and walked her to the door. “I can’t wait to meet them.”

Nina paused on the steps and turned to her mother. “Do you think she’ll like me?”

“Of course she will. Everything’s going to be okay,” Dora said, hugging her. “Call me soon, okay?”

When Nina had gone, Dora went back to the kitchen and sat in front of her chocolate box, pretending to study the guide on the lid.

“As if you don’t know what’s beneath every swirl and squiggle,” Leo said. He straddled a chair and lifted her chin, forcing her to look at him. “Why didn’t you tell Nina that Amy’s staying with Reid Robertson?”

Dora shrugged, averting her gaze. “She didn’t ask.”

“Dora.” Leo shook his head. “That’s as bad as a lie.”

“Oh, Leo.” Dora laid a loving work-roughened hand on his leathery cheek. “Nina will find it hard enough to face her daughter. You know perfectly well she’d never go out there if she knew she might run into Reid.”

CHAPTER TWO

LUKE MANN WAS LYING wounded in an abandoned warehouse next door to the safe house, the envelope undelivered. Reid hadn’t the foggiest notion how the agent was going to get out alive. Ever since Amy and Beebee had arrived a week ago, neither he nor Luke had made much progress.

Reid’s gaze kept drifting from the monitor to the window overlooking the beach and the broad curving bay. The tide had receded a mile or more; children waded in pools between sandbars, and shorebirds with long narrow beaks prodded the sand for worms and mud shrimp.

Beebee’s strawberry curls popped up from behind a log. The little girl’s chubby limbs beneath her pink sundress were bare and already turning brown after a week in the sun. She toddled a few steps before crouching to pick up a shell embedded in the coarse gray sand.

Reid smiled when she sat down abruptly to examine her treasure. Beebee was adorable—until she was frightened or thwarted, then look out. The kid had a pair of lungs an opera diva would envy.

A moment later Reid was frowning, scanning the beach. Where the heck was Amy? It wouldn’t be the first time Beebee had gotten out of the house and wandered off by herself. Keeping a watchful eye on the little girl, Reid moved to the side window from where he could see another angle of the beach. Still no sign of Amy.

Beebee stood and continued her meandering progress down the sandy beach. Muttering under his breath, Reid thrust his bare feet into sandals and went through the family room and out the open French doors to cross the lawn. As he dropped over the retaining wall onto the sand, Daisy overtook him and galloped ahead.

Reid caught up to the toddler in a few strides. “Beebee!”

A sunny smile lit her round face. “Weed!”

Dropping to a crouch, Reid nudged Daisy and her slurping tongue aside and brushed off the grains of sand stuck to Beebee’s cheek. “Where’s Mommy?”

“Me find shell,” Beebee said happily, thrusting the broken cockle under his nose.

“Very nice,” he said. “Let’s go show your mom.” Getting to his feet, he took her hand and started leading her back to the house.

Beebee followed, chatting away. He lifted her over the low concrete wall and carried her through the house, calling to Amy. He came to the ground-floor bedroom she shared with Beebee and pushed open the door. Amy was pacing between the crib and the bed, speaking to someone on the telephone.

“So I have an appointment this morning?” she said, her eyes alight with excitement. “Cool! Thanks again.” Amy hung up and turned to Reid.

“Look who I found wandering down the beach,” he said.

“Beebee, you naughty girl,” Amy scolded gently and tried to take her daughter.

“Me find shell,” Beebee informed her, showing no inclination to leave Reid’s arms.

Reid readjusted his hold on the sun-warmed little girl and she snuggled into his side. “I’ll put a hook on the French doors,” he told Amy. “In the meantime, you should keep a better eye on Beebee. She could have been lost or drowned.”

“I put her in her playpen in the living room. She must have climbed out.” Amy twined one long golden lock around her finger. “Can you do me a big favor?”

“Maybe,” Reid said warily, thinking he could guess what was coming after overhearing her phone conversation.

“Can you look after Beebee for a couple of hours?” Amy asked. “I have a job interview.”

“How long will you be?” His publisher’s deadline was looming and he was way behind on his weekly page quota.

“A couple of hours, three at most,” Amy said. “Please, Reid, just this once. An L.A. production company is filming a movie in Vancouver and they’re looking for extras. They pay a hundred dollars a day and guarantee at least ten days work. You know I could use the money.”

Beebee was wriggling in his arms so Reid set her on the floor. She toddled off to put her shell among her growing collection on the windowsill.

“Okay, go ahead.” He transferred his gaze to Beebee. “Looks like it’s you and me, squirt.” She glanced up at him with a trusting toothy grin that would have softened the hardest heart. God knows, it reduced his to a puddle.

Amy bestowed Reid with a brilliant smile. “Thank you. You’re seriously cool for an old dude.”

“Amy,” he began. “There’s something we need to talk about.” He’d spoken to Elaine on the phone yesterday and she’d given him the go-ahead to tell Amy who he was but between his book, Beebee and helping Amy with job applications, he hadn’t found a quiet moment to talk.

“Can it wait until I get back?” she said. “I’m already late.” Without waiting for an answer, she bent to hug Beebee. “Be a good girl for Reid and don’t run away again. I’ll see you both in a little while. Wish me luck.”

“Sure,” Reid said, ashamed of his relief at the temporary reprieve. “Break a leg.”

Lunchtime came. Reid piled phone books on a kitchen chair and sat Beebee down with a peanut-butter sandwich and a glass of milk. She ate out the insides, smearing her face with peanut butter and leaving the crusts. Daisy wagged her tail hopefully, never taking her eyes off the dangling strips of bread.

Tara glided into the kitchen looking tired and disgruntled in spite of her immaculately pressed mint-green T-shirt and beige shorts. She rummaged in the fridge for an orange and grumbled to Reid, “The kid woke me up at six this morning.”

“Tawa!” With a grin, Beebee offered the tattered remnants of her sandwich to the older girl.

Despite herself, an answering smile tugged at the corners of Tara’s mouth but she frowned and replied brusquely, “Beebee eat.” Rolling her eyes at her father she added, “She’s got me talking like a two-year-old.” Tara peeled her orange over the sink, fastidiously placing each scrap of peel into the garbage as it came off. “There are toys and laundry all over the living-room floor. That was Mom’s favorite room.”

“We never use it since she passed away,” Reid said quietly. “Maybe it’s time someone did.” He handed Beebee her milk. She slurped it, dribbling most of it down her chin. Reid wiped her face with a cloth and said to Tara, “I remember when you were this age. You were so neat you hated having a mess on your face or hands.”

“I still do.” Tara pulled apart the juicy segments with her fingertips and shook the drips off before popping one into her mouth. “Why did Amy come here, anyway?” Tara demanded. “How long are they going to stay?”

Reid hesitated. Tara deserved to know the truth, too, but telling her before he talked to Amy didn’t seem right.

“I don’t know how long they’ll be here,” Reid said at last. “Amy’s looking for work and that takes time. She’s a little mixed up right now. I wish you’d be more friendly. You used to look up to her when we lived in Halifax.”

“Yeah, well, I was just a kid back then. Anyway, it’s not like I knew her that well. Most of the time when you went to see the Hockings, you went on your own.”

“My family knew them when they lived in Vancouver,” Reid explained. “Your mom didn’t have the same connection.” Or interest, he added silently.

“Whatever,” Tara said. “I’m going to the community center with Libby after lunch to see what they’ve got for summer art courses. Can you drive us?”

“I would but I have to look after Beebee and we haven’t got a car seat for her.”

“Yesterday you couldn’t take me to the mall because you had to help Amy with her résumé,” Tara complained.

“The mall isn’t far,” Reid pointed out. “Amy walked from there carrying Beebee and a duffel bag.”

Tara blew out an explosive breath. “You think Amy’s so great! She’s got her stuff all over the bathroom, she won’t eat anything we eat and now she’s got you babysitting. Everything’s changed since she arrived.” Tara glared at him. “She’s taken over our house.”

She’s taken over you. Tara couldn’t have said it more clearly if she’d spoken the words. Reid was seeing another side to his quiet sweet-natured daughter. He shouldn’t be surprised she was jealous of the time he spent with Amy and Beebee; she’d had him all to herself for three years since Carol had died.

“Her parents are old friends and I’ve known Amy since she was a baby. Putting her up for a couple of weeks until she sorts herself out doesn’t seem too much to ask.”

Tara rinsed off her hands and dried them. “She’d better be home in time for us to go to my violin recital tonight. You can’t bring that baby.”

“I know,” Reid assured her. “I’m sure Amy’ll be home any minute.”

After lunch Reid tucked Beebee into bed for a nap and went back to work. At first he kept an ear out for Amy but as time passed and she didn’t return, he got deeper and deeper into his story.

“Where my mommy?” Beebee suddenly spoke at his elbow.

Reid started. Still engrossed in his narrative, he answered distractedly, “She’ll be home soon.”

Beebee tugged on his sleeve and Reid dragged his gaze away from the monitor to see her staring at him with bright blue unblinking eyes. “Want Mommy.”

Out in the bay, water covered the sandbars and wind surfers skimmed the white-flecked waves. He glanced at his watch. Four o’clock. The tide was in but Amy wasn’t.

By six o’clock Tara was in a flap. Her recital was at seven and they needed twenty minutes to drive to the hall. After tears and angry words, she called a friend for a ride and stomped out the door without Reid.

After dinner, Reid sat on the couch with Beebee on his lap and switched on Nina’s current-affairs show. Tonight she was interviewing a man who’d narrowly missed being hit by a chunk of meteorite that had fallen through his roof while he’d been eating breakfast.

“That’s your grandma,” he whispered into Beebee’s ear.

Nina had done something different to her hair. The chin-length blond strands had been tweaked into a wayward whimsical style. The sparkle in her eye, her vivacious laughter had her guest hanging on her every word. And the way that red suit clung to her figure—she and Amy could have been sisters. Reid had to admit, Nina still had it.

Sometimes he thought about calling her and getting together for a drink, for old times’ sake. Then he remembered how the old times had ended and realized that wouldn’t be such a good idea. Anyway, she was probably happily married, with a family.

Amy would be thrilled to find out her biological mother was in the entertainment business. For Amy’s sake, he prayed that Nina would be as thrilled to hear from her daughter. Elaine had told him she’d given his address to Nina’s mother. He’d waited for Nina to call but so far nothing. Maybe she wasn’t interested in meeting their daughter. Or maybe his presence put her off. Regardless, he had to tell Amy the truth tonight. Surely he could find the words to make her realize how much he cared, how the lie had been forced upon him….

He glanced at his watch. Seven o’clock and Amy still wasn’t home. He was starting to get seriously worried. Two or three hours, she’d said. Here it was ten hours and counting. Where was she? Why didn’t she call?

Reid switched off the TV. What if Amy’d had an accident or been abducted? She could be injured or in trouble. His writer’s imagination combined with a father’s sensibilities had no trouble conjuring scenarios of death, dismemberment and disaster.

Reid dragged a hand through his hair and racked his brain trying to remember if she’d written down the number or address of where she was going. If it was anywhere, he decided, it’d be in the spare bedroom she and Beebee were occupying.

NINA PULLED INTO THE DRIVEWAY of the house where Amy was staying just before 8:00 p.m. The evening air was sultry with a whiff of salt and the two-story white house glowed in the twilight.

Nina checked her reflection in the rearview mirror. She’d removed the heavy studio makeup after her show and now her skin looked pale and somehow fragile. There were faint shadows under her blue eyes and she’d chewed all the color off her lips. Whipping out her lipstick, she reapplied a pale pink gloss and quickly ran her fingers through her hair. She was as ready as she’d ever be.

Her high heels sank into the white gravel driveway and she quickly moved to the concrete path leading to the front door. Who lived here? she wondered. Someone with a few bucks, if the late-model SUV in the carport was anything to go by. The beat-up wooden sailing dinghy with a broken mast and peeling paint next to the SUV seemed out of place.

Her stomach gave a faint rumble, reminding her that after she’d finished work she’d driven straight here without changing her clothes or stopping for dinner. Too late now. She buzzed the doorbell and pressed her palms against her linen skirt. Through the frosted-glass strip beside the door, she could see a light on in a back room but the front of the house was dark. She should have called first instead of just turning up. Amy might be out. She might be busy. She might—

The front door opened to reveal a man in a sleeveless T-shirt and shorts. His rumpled dark hair was cut close at the sides and laugh lines framed his mouth and eyes.

“Reid?” She froze to the spot. Even after all these years, she would have known him anywhere.

“Nina?” He went still. “What are you doing here?”

“Me?” she croaked. “What are you doing here?”

“I live here,” he said.

Low blood sugar combined with shock caused Nina’s knees to buckle and black spots swam before her eyes. Reid sprang forward and gripped her elbow. “You’d better come inside and sit down.”

He led her through the foyer and into a formal living room strewn with toys, unfolded laundry and movie magazines. Nina sank gratefully onto a soft couch. Reid placed the back of his warm hand against her clammy forehead. It could have been a gesture of tenderness and concern but his voice was brusque. “Are you all right?”

“I’m fine,” she lied, feeling anything but. She’d come here to meet her daughter and found Reid instead. She could hardly believe it was him standing before her. She’d known he was back in Vancouver ever since he’d been interviewed in the local media. She knew he’d been married and had another daughter, that his wife had died a few years ago.

He looked the same, though a little older, of course. His features had lost the softness of youth and were stronger, more defined. Like an optical illusion, one second he was her closest friend and lover, then she blinked and he was a stranger. In spite of everything, she looked hungrily for the humorous twist to his mouth, the twinkle in his dark eyes. But he wasn’t smiling; he was scowling at her. Time alone couldn’t extinguish the rancor they’d parted with.

“Where’s…” Nina swallowed hard at the fresh ordeal of speaking their daughter’s name. “…Amy? My mother said she’s looking for her biological parents. I guess she found you first.”

Reid cast her an odd glance. “Uh, yeah.”

“I had no idea this was your house,” Nina said. “Or I would never have…I mean, I would have called first.” This was so awkward; she, who lived to talk, had no idea what to say to him. Nina glanced around. “So, where is she?”

“She’s…out.”

“When do you expect her back?”

“She’s missing, actually,” Reid admitted. “I’m getting worried.”

“Missing!” Nina sat up straighter. “How…where? When was the last time you saw her?”

“She left this morning around 9:00 a.m.,” Reid said. “She was going into Vancouver to audition for a walk-on part in a movie.” He moved a teddy bear out of the way so he could sit beside Nina. “She was very excited about it.”

Out of habit, Nina pulled a notepad and pen out of her purse and jotted down the time and place, glad of something concrete to focus on during this surreal experience. “So she’s an actress?”

“She’s performed in high-school productions. As far as I know, this is the first professional job she’s gone for.” He ran a hand through his hair. “She wouldn’t leave Beebee this long unless something happened.”

“Is Beebee—” Nina began then thought she heard a childish giggle and stopped. “What was that?”

Reid tilted his head. “I don’t hear anything.”

“Never mind. Neither do I, now. Beebee is an odd name. Is she our—?” Nina tapped the pen against the paper. This was too weird. “Is Beebee Amy’s little girl?”

“Yes.” Reid lifted his head, still listening. “I put her in her crib but she keeps getting out. I’d better check on her.”

Before he could move, a tiny girl with flaming curls and yellow sleepers wriggled out from behind the couch, giggling madly, and ran into the hallway and toward the front door. Over the top of the low divider separating the living room from the foyer Nina could see a small determined hand trying to turn the knob.

“Beebee!” Reid cried. “What do you think you’re doing?”

“Oh, she’s so sweet!” Nina exclaimed, forgetting everything else in the joy of seeing her grandchild. “She’s got my mother’s hair.”

“Don’t be fooled by that angelic face,” Reid said. “She’s an escape artist.” He lunged across the room, tripped on a stuffed elephant and fell sideways into a pile of towels. “Oof! Don’t let her get away.”

Beebee gave the doorknob a final twist and the door swung open. Nina heard a last gleeful chuckle and then the little imp pattered down the steps and disappeared into the night.

“Damn! I forgot to turn the dead bolt after I let you in.” Reid struggled to right himself amid the tangled laundry. “You can’t take your eyes off that child for a minute.”

“Then why did you?” Nina picked her way across the room through toys and clothes. “If you’re supposed to be looking after her, you’re not doing a very good job.”

“Just…get…her!” Reid swore as a pair of toddler’s overalls wrapped themselves around his ankles and brought him to his knees.

Nina paused in the doorway to scan the yard. Beebee was running down the driveway as fast as her little legs could carry her. Nina took off after her, her high heels wobbling dangerously in the loose gravel. “Beebee! Come back here, darling. Come to—” She broke off, the word grandma sticking in her throat. “Come to Nina.”

The headlights of a car approached, on a collision course with Beebee barreling straight for the road. Nina shouted, “Beebee, stop this instant!”

Beebee slid to a halt and spun to face Nina, her mouth a startled O. Her surprise at this stranger speaking so harshly swiftly turned to mutiny. She drew in a lungful of air then emitted an ear-piercing shriek. The passing station wagon turned a corner but Beebee’s high-pitched noise went on and on, like a car alarm that wouldn’t turn off. A couple walking their miniature poodle down the street frowned at Nina and whispered to each other.

“It’s a game we play,” Nina called to the couple, laughing. “I’m her…her older female relative.” She marched over to Beebee and picked up the child who was still screaming and as stiff as a board. “Beebee, stop,” she pleaded in an urgent undertone. “I’m not going to hurt you.”

“Ow, yeow, yikes.” Arms flailing, Reid hopped over the sharp gravel in bare feet. He reached for Beebee. “Come here, honey.”

“Weed!” Beebee kicked off from Nina’s stomach, launching herself out of Nina’s arms to dive into Reid’s waiting embrace. She threw Nina an angry, suspicious glare then buried her face in Reid’s shirt.

“Oomph.” Nina doubled over. “What is wrong with that little banshee?”

“You scared her.”

“I scared her?”

“She makes strange at first,” Reid said. “Beebee, this is Nina. She’s…” He glanced at Nina and she shook her head. “A friend of your mommy’s.”

“Where my mommy?” Beebee asked plaintively.

“She’s coming.” Reid stroked her damp curls off her forehead. In his arms, she heaved a deep sigh. “Let’s go inside and put you to bed.” He walked back to the house on the grass and pointed out the first star glinting in an indigo sky. “Make a wish, Beebee.”

“Mommy,” Beebee said and stuck her thumb in her mouth.

“She’ll be home soon.”

Nina held the door open for him to go through. “Ou-yay ouldn’t-shay ake-may omises-pray ou-yay an’t-cay eep-kay.”

Reid set Beebee on the floor. “Go get your dolly. It’s bedtime.” Then he looked at Nina as though she were demented. “What on earth are you saying?”

“Ou-yay ouldn’t-shay—”

“She’s forgotten all about her om-may. She’s not even paying attention to us anymore,” he added, nodding at the toddler.

Beebee was busy piling clean laundry onto Daisy’s back and giggling when it fell off. Dog and child distributed clothing around the room—a sock behind the couch, a T-shirt next to the window.

Nina, too frazzled to sit still, followed behind, picking up the clothing as she went. “We should call the police.”

“Too soon.” Reid locked the door and bolted it, then slid the chain across. “She has to be gone twenty-four hours before they’ll file a missing-persons report.”

Nina dumped her armload of clothing onto the couch and began to fold the individual items, finding the mindless activity soothing. “Is there no way to contact her? An address or a phone number?”

“I’ve searched her room. She didn’t leave anything written down that I could see,” Reid replied.

“How long has Amy been here?” Nina looked around at the clothing and toys. “They seem very settled in.”

“A few days…maybe a week.”

Maybe a week? Reid had always been a little absentminded, lost in his own world, but even for him, the answer was vague.

Before she could probe further, the front door rattled as someone tried to enter. A second later the bell rang. Reid strode across the room, unlocked and flung open the door. Beebee tried to shoot through the gap only for Reid to grab her by the scruff of her pajamas and haul her unceremoniously into his arms.

A young woman with waist-length blond hair hurried inside. Nina felt the butterflies in her stomach buffet her rib cage. At last. Her daughter. Frozen to the spot, Nina watched her in amazement. She was beautiful. She was real.

“Amy!” Reid exclaimed with relief. “Where have you been? What happened to you?”

Amy lifted Beebee out of Reid’s arms and hugged her to herself. “Mommy’s here.” She glanced at Reid over Beebee’s shoulder. “The bus I was on collided with a dump truck in the tunnel. They just sideswiped each other but it caused a pileup that took hours to sort out.”

“I heard about the accident on the radio coming out here so I went around by the bridge,” Nina said. “Are you all right?”

Amy glanced at her with a puzzled frown. “Not a scratch on me. Ambulances took us all to Emergency to get checked out.”

“Why didn’t you call?” Reid demanded. “I know you don’t have a cell phone but you could have borrowed one.”

“I didn’t have your number with me. Crazy, huh? I never thought I would need it.” Amy stroked Beebee’s back while the little girl played with her hoop earrings. “There was a public phone booth in Emergency but no phone book. I guess I could have dialed directory assistance but I didn’t think of it at the time. I’m sorry if you were worried.”

“How did you get home?” Reid asked.

“They brought out another bus.” Amy peered around Beebee to study Nina curiously. “You look familiar. Are you by any chance…?”

Related? Did she see the resemblance? Nina wondered breathlessly. She could, in the eyes and the shape of the mouth. “I’m…” she began, but her breath had lodged in her chest, preventing her from speaking.

“You are!” Amy said. “You’re Nina Kennerly from the TV show Chat with Nina. Reid watches you every night.” Amy turned to Reid. “You didn’t tell me you knew Nina Kennerly. Are you two friends?”

Reid threw Nina an unreadable glance. “Something like that.” He touched Amy’s arm. “Maybe you should get Beebee settled. She’s had a lot of excitement tonight.”

“I’ll put her to bed,” Amy said and carried her child down the hall to their bedroom.

“I didn’t know what I should say when she asked me who you were,” Reid said quietly. “What are you going to tell her?”

Nina began picking up toys and piling them into a toy box in the corner. “The truth, of course. That’s why I came out here tonight.”

Amy returned and flopped into a chair, blowing out a sigh that fluttered her wispy bangs. “Whew! What a day. But I got the part as an extra.”

“That’s great,” Reid said.

“How exciting,” Nina added warmly. “What role do you play?”

“I’m a tourist.” Amy glanced at her, at the toys in her hand, and wrinkled her brow. “Excuse me, I know you’re Nina Kennerly but are you, like, Reid’s girlfriend or something?” When neither Nina or Reid replied, she said, “Am I being nosy? Just tell me to mind my own business.”

Nina sat on the arm of the couch, looked at Reid, then back to Amy. Her throat suddenly felt very dry. All the speeches she’d mentally composed to break the news gently fled her brain and she blurted, “I’m your biological mother.”

No one moved in the frozen silence. Time itself might have been suspended were it not for the quiet ticking of a mantel clock. Amy stared. Nina gazed steadfastly back, her heart pounding in her throat. She usually had so much to say she couldn’t get it all out but, at the moment, her wits and her voice failed her.

Finally, Amy blinked and swallowed. “My mother?” she said in a choked voice. “The woman who gave birth to me?”

Nina bit her lip and nodded. Was Amy pleased? Disappointed? It was hard to tell.

“I don’t understand,” Amy said. “How did you find me?”

“Elaine called my mother to tell her you were in town looking for me and gave her Reid’s address.”

Amy’s gaze flicked to Reid. A faint frown crossed her features as if there were a connection here she didn’t understand and couldn’t work out.

“I know Elaine Hocking is your real mother,” Nina went on in a rush. “I know I can’t ever take her place and I wouldn’t want to but if I could in some small way be part of your life, part of Beebee’s life—” she drew a breath “—I would be so happy.”

Amy went completely still for another agonizing minute. Then tears leaked from her eyes and she rose from her chair to start forward only to falter, as if unsure.

“Oh, my dear.” Nina’s eyes flooded as she pulled her daughter into an awkward embrace. “Oh, my dear sweetpea.”

Amy drew back, blinking with surprise. “Sweetpea?”

Nina felt heat bloom in her cheeks. “It’s a pet name I had for you. I didn’t know your real name, you see. I shouldn’t have burst out with it. I must sound silly and sentimental.”

Amy shook her head, wiping her eyes with the heel of her hand. “It’s cool.”

Nina let out a long breath, easing but not releasing her pent-up anxiety. It still didn’t seem possible that this young woman should be her daughter. Her daughter.

Amy turned to Reid with an amazed smile. She’d recovered her composure and was coming alive with excitement. “Can you believe this? Nina Kennerly’s my mother! Ever since I found out the Hockings weren’t my biological parents I’ve been going crazy wondering who I am, where I came from.” She swung back to Nina. “And now you can tell me who my father is.”

Taken aback, Nina threw Reid a swift glance. “Surely you know.”

“I told you, Jim and Elaine wouldn’t give me any information.” Amy clasped her hands in front of her. “Please, I want to know all about him. Was he good-looking and smart? Was he kind?”

“He was all those things and more.” Nina frowned at Reid, silently demanding to know what the hell was going on. She’d assumed Amy knew who he was, but apparently not.

“He sounds wonderful,” Amy said.

“I was very much in love with him,” Nina said, suddenly wistful. “For a while we talked about getting married.”

“That’s so romantic,” Amy said. “What went wrong?”

“I…we had a terrible fight. We were both so young, and I knew I couldn’t provide for you on my own. His parents arranged for a private adoption.” Nina glanced at Reid again, eyebrows raised. He gazed back at her with a stony expression.

“Do you know where my father lives now?” Amy said. “Do you think he’ll want to see me?”

“Well,” Nina began, looking from Amy to Reid. What was going on here?

“I know he will.” Reid cleared his throat. When he spoke again it wasn’t with his customary assurance. “Amy, I don’t know how to tell you this. I’ve wanted to say something for years. I should have told you this past week—”

“What is it?” Amy broke in impatiently. “What do you know about my father?”

“I am your biological father.”

Amy turned to him, shocked back into speechlessness. Her excitement turned to disbelief. Finally, she spluttered with nervous laughter. “What! You can’t be.”

Reid stepped forward, a hand tentatively extended. “Please don’t be upset.”

She pulled away from him, her face crumpling. “I’ve known you all my life. You’re a friend of my parents. Of Jim and Elaine. You’re Uncle Reid.”

“No,” he said soberly. “I’m your father.”

“I’ve been here a week,” Amy cried. “You knew I was looking for my birth parents but you never said anything.”

“I couldn’t at first. I promised the Hockings—”

“You’re just like them.” Angry tears spilled over as she backed away. “You lied to me, too. I don’t want you to be my father. Do you hear me? You’re not my father.”

CHAPTER THREE

REID FELT THE WAY HE imagined Luke must have felt when he’d been shot in the gut—too much in shock to feel pain, but he was bleeding inside. “Amy, let me explain—”

Before he could finish, Nina directed a sharply spoken question to Amy. “What do you mean, you’ve known him all your life? Didn’t you just get to Vancouver recently?”

“Yes, but Reid is a friend of my adoptive parents,” Amy explained. “He was Uncle Reid when I was little. He came over at Christmas and Easter. He gave me birthday presents and once he even came on vacation with us. He taught me to swim.”

“Jim and Elaine weren’t big on water sports,” Reid mumbled.

Nina turned to him. “You’ve been in Vancouver for what, three years?”

Reid nodded. They’d moved back after Carol had died. Leaving Amy had been a wrench, but he’d wanted Tara to know his parents better now that it was just the two of them.

“Three years,” she repeated, dismayed. “Yet you never once called me and said, hey, Nina, would you like to see a picture of your daughter?” She paused. “I presume you have photos?”

Again Reid nodded. Whole albums. “Why would I call when it was you who—” He broke off, aware of Amy listening intently to their exchange.

They heard a car pull into the driveway and all heads turned toward the door. Then he heard the car door slam and Tara calling good-night.

She entered the living room a moment later, her face lit with excitement. “Dad, you’ll never guess. I got a special commendation for my étude—” She broke off abruptly, her gaze flitting from Reid to Nina to Amy and back to Nina. “What’s going on?”

Reid rose to his feet. “Nina, this is my daughter, Tara. Tara, this is Nina.”

“From the TV show?” Tara’s face turned wary and Reid knew why—it had never been a secret that Nina had been the woman in Reid’s life before Carol. With strained politeness, Tara added, “It’s nice to meet you.”

“Nina is Amy’s biological mother,” Reid added. He might as well get the explanations over with at once.

Tara’s smile froze and she clutched her violin case to her chest. Reid could almost see the wheels turning in her mind. Nina was Amy’s mother. Nina was also Reid’s old girlfriend. Therefore—

Reid cleared his throat. “Amy’s my daughter, too. And your half sister.”

Tara’s mouth opened and shut again but no words came out. Her gaze returned to Amy, who was accepting a tissue from Nina. “Is this true?”

“Apparently.” Amy blew her nose noisily. “I’m not happy about it. He’s lied to me all my life.”

“That makes two of us.” Tara turned back to Reid, her eyes filled with accusations.

“Now wait just a minute,” Reid said and started with Amy. “The only way the Hockings allowed me to see you was if I agreed not to reveal our true relationship. If I told anyone else, including you—” he looked at Tara “—or you—” he added to Nina “—I risked losing access.”

“You led a double life,” Tara said. “Going from Mom and I to…” On the verge of tears, she pointed at Amy. “To her.”

Reid shook his head. “It’s not the way you make it sound.”

“When you give a child up for adoption, you give them up,” Tara insisted. “You’re not supposed to hang on and try to be part of their life.”

“I didn’t give Amy up,” Reid countered. “Nina did.”

“So you still blame the whole thing on me,” Nina said angrily. “I might have known.”

Amy moved to stand closer to Nina. “At least she was honest about her actions.”

“I wasn’t blaming you,” Reid said to Nina, getting more and more exasperated.

“Sure sounded like it to me!” Nina said. “Your mother—”

“Oh stop fighting! I wish you’d all just go away!” Tara ran out of the room and pounded up the stairs.

Silence fell. Reid rubbed the bridge of his nose, conscious of a tension headache coming on.

“It’s obvious I’m not welcome here,” Amy said quietly and rose. “I’ll pack my things.”

“Where are you going to go at this late hour?” Reid said, alarmed at the thought of her leaving.

“You can stay with me,” Nina offered. “I’d love to have you.”

“No!” Reid exclaimed. Nina and Amy turned to him, startled. “It’s late and Beebee’s asleep. Anyway, we don’t have a car seat.”

“That’s true,” Amy said, sitting down again. “I wouldn’t like to risk driving all the way into Vancouver without her properly secure.” She wrapped her arms around her knees, looking lost.

“You can continue to stay here,” Reid assured. “I’ll talk to Tara. This has been a shock to her.”

“And me!” Amy said.

Reid glanced helplessly from Amy to Nina, who quickly looked away. There’d been so much left unsaid when he and Nina had parted nineteen years ago and tonight’s emotionally charged revelations had only widened the gulf between them. He’d touched a nerve with his remark about Nina giving Amy up. All he’d meant was that he’d never wanted to.

“Well, I’d better go.” Nina picked up her purse and moved to the front door.

Amy followed and Reid trailed behind. “Will I see you again?” Amy asked Nina.

Nina paused at the bottom of the steps. “Of course. Since you don’t have a car, it’s probably easier if I come back here. Unless Reid has any objection?”

Her challenge hung in the air. He couldn’t keep her away if he wanted to and they both knew it. The last thing he wanted was a tug-of-war over Amy.

“I have no objection,” Reid said. “Come for lunch tomorrow if you like.”

He left Nina and Amy to say good-night to each other, then went upstairs and knocked on Tara’s door.

“Go away.” Her voice sounded strained, as if she’d been crying.

Ignoring her edict, Reid entered. “We need to talk.”

Tara was lying on her bed, curled on her side, reading a Manga book. Reid sat beside her and stroked her back. “I’m sorry, honey. I was going to tell you as soon as I’d told Amy.”

“There you go, putting her first again.” Tara still hadn’t looked at him, making a pretense of being absorbed in the illustrated story.

Reid pressed his lips together, reminding himself that no matter how mature Tara seemed at times, she was still only fifteen and bound to feel betrayed. “Just because Amy’s my daughter, too, doesn’t mean I love you less.”

Tara shrugged and turned a page. “Whatever.”

Nothing could have been more calculated to push Reid’s hot button than that insolent claim to indifference. “Will you put that away and talk to me!”

Tara closed her Manga book and tossed it onto her bedside table. Then she scooted up to lean her back against the headboard. “You should have talked to me before you allowed Amy into our house. What would Mom have said if she knew you had a secret daughter?”

“Your mother knew about Amy,” Reid said. “She was the only person I told. She accepted that Amy was a part of my life.”

“Did she? Or did she just not have a choice?” Tara said. “Now that Mom’s gone, I suppose you’ll go back to your first family.”

“Nina and Amy were never my family,” Reid said. “You and your mother were. You still are.” He held out his arms. “Come on, honey. Give your dad a hug.”

Tara blinked red-rimmed eyes but she made no move to go into his arms. “I’m tired. I want to go to sleep now.”

She’d never refused him a hug before and the significance of it cut him to the bone. Reid rose stiffly, feeling as if he’d aged twenty years in one day. Had he gone from having two daughters to none?

Downstairs all was quiet. Amy had gone to bed and there was no light underneath her door. Reid went into the living room to turn out the table lamp. His hand paused on the switch. Nina’s leather-bound notebook and gold pen lay on the side table where she’d forgotten them.

Suddenly he recalled the light perfume she wore and the unconsciously seductive sway of her hips. Attraction and antagonism churned in his gut. If he’d thought Amy and Beebee disruptive to his quiet lifestyle, their presence was nothing compared to the havoc Nina could wreak on his peace of mind.

Reid picked up the notebook and pen and placed them on the mantelpiece where Beebee couldn’t get them. For good or ill, Nina was back in his life.

AMY HEARD THE DOORBELL the next morning and, with a nervous glance in the hall mirror, hurried to open the door. Nina, in white capri pants, a sleeveless turquoise top and glittery sandals, looked casually glamorous. Amy still couldn’t get over the fact that Nina was her mother.

“I’m so glad you came!” Amy greeted her with a warm smile and leaned forward to exchange tentative kisses on the cheek. She lowered her voice and added, “It’s like a morgue around here this morning.”

“Are you all right?” Nina asked, frowning slightly and searching Amy’s face. “You look tired.”

“I didn’t get much sleep last night,” Amy admitted. She felt Beebee’s small hands clutching her calves as her daughter peeked around Amy’s long cotton skirt at the newcomer.

“Neither did I,” Nina said. “I guess we all had a lot to think about.” She bent forward to smile at Beebee, “Hello, sweetheart.”

Beebee shrank back behind Amy’s legs.

“She makes strange,” Amy apologized and lifted Beebee up. “Come on, Beebs, say hello to Nina.”

“Don’t force her,” Nina said. “We’ll make friends in time.”

“Come in.” Amy led the way through to the back of the house. From the second floor came the sound of a violin concerto. “That’s Tara,” she explained to Nina as they passed the stairs. “She’s awfully good, although I get the feeling she doesn’t practice as much as Reid would like.” Glancing at the closed door leading off the family room, Amy added, “Reid’s working. I think he’s behind on his book.”

With explanations over, there was an awkward pause. All the way across the country on the bus, Amy had imagined a dramatic meeting with her mother, her fantasies alternating between tearful recrimination and joyful reunion. What she hadn’t expected was this uncomfortable distance between them, this not knowing how to talk to each other. There was so much she wanted to know, facts and dates, whys and hows. More than anything she wanted reassurance that, despite being given away, she’d been loved. She realized now with a wince at her naiveté that was something she could never ask for.

As the silence stretched, Nina moved to the windows. “What a lovely view of the mountains.”

“Do you want to go for a walk on the dike?” Amy suggested. Movement and action might break the ice.

“That sounds good.” Nina seized on the idea with obvious relief. She watched Amy smooth sunscreen on Beebee’s cheeks and nose, and strap her into the stroller. “Is it too far for her to walk by herself?”

“I always end up running after her on the way out and carrying her on the way back,” Amy explained.

“This is better, then,” Nina said. “We’ll be able to talk.”

Amy smiled tentatively. “That’s right.”

Nina removed a digital camera from her red leather purse and left the purse behind on the kitchen table. She helped Amy carry Beebee’s stroller down the steps and they walked along the street to the pedestrian gate at the entrance to the dike, a raised gravel road that sloped away to the beach on one side and the marshland on the other.

The dike ran around a point between Reid’s beach and the next beach, holding back flood tides from the marsh and pastureland. Rabbits hopped through the long grass, birds sang from the hedges and ducks paddled down the deep, wide channels that crisscrossed the low-lying fields.

Amy pushed the stroller over the bumpy track. No cars were allowed on the dike but there were people walking their dogs or jogging, plus the occasional kids on bikes. They’d gone a few hundred yards when Nina slipped her camera off her wrist.

“Hold it there, Amy, so I can take a photo of you and Beebee to show my parents. Beebee looks a lot like my mother, your grandmother. Her name is Dora. She had red hair, too, which turned auburn as she got older.”

“I never had grandparents that I remember,” Amy said. “Both Mom’s and Dad’s—I mean Elaine’s and Jim’s parents passed away when I was very young.” Amy adjusted Beebee’s sunhat so her face was visible then crouched beside the stroller so Nina could take their photo. “That’s why I came out west, to find my real family.”

No sooner did she say that than she felt guilty. Despite her anger toward her mom and dad, she loved them and knew they were good parents. But what hurt her so badly—besides the lies—was that they couldn’t understand her curiosity about her biological parents. They seemed to think she was only doing it to get back at them. Nina’s silence as she lowered her camera and checked the photo she’d just taken made Amy feel ashamed. Would she get on her case the way Reid had?

“I’m glad you came to look for me,” Nina said at last. “I’ve wondered about you over the years. What you looked like, your personality, if you were happy.”

“We look similar, don’t we?” Amy said shyly, searching Nina’s face and finding no disapproval, only a near mirror-image of herself. “Like mother and daughter. We have the same heart-shaped face, the same dark blue eyes.”

“For me it’s like looking in a mirror and seeing myself twenty years younger.” Nina held out a slender manicured hand adorned with an opal ring set in gold. “We even have the same fingers. See how narrow they taper and how the index finger bends in slightly?”

Amy nodded, stretching a tanned arm tinkling with silver bangles next to Nina’s. Her skin was softer, smoother, but other than that they could almost have been twins. It was as though she’d found the piece of herself that had been missing all these years. Maybe. It was too soon to take anything for granted.

“I want to take you to meet your grandparents,” Nina said. “They’re dying to get to know you and Beebee.”

“I’d love that. Tell me about them,” Amy begged. “I want to know everything.”

As they walked along the dike, Nina related details of her family history, about growing up in the small house in Vancouver’s east side, about her father almost losing his hand in an industrial accident, her mother’s gentle humor and her father’s pride. Amy listened eagerly, asking questions as rapidly as Nina could answer them. Their constraint vanished as their conversation wove a pattern of half-finished sentences and intuitive leaps of understanding punctuated by frequent bursts of laughter.

The only thing they didn’t talk about was Amy’s birth. Nina seemed to shy away from the subject every time she came close. And she wouldn’t say anything more about her early relationship with Reid either. The burning issue in Amy’s mind was why Nina and Reid had given her up for adoption. The question was on the tip of her tongue more than once, but she was afraid her hurt and resentment would come out in her voice. Afraid that the truth might ruin the growing connection between her and Nina. And yet, wasn’t that the main reason she’d traveled four thousand miles across the country? To find out the truth?

“Let’s see, what else can I tell you?” Nina said. “We’re all very healthy, with no hereditary diseases in the family. You’re lucky that way. You have good genes on both sides.” She paused and asked cautiously, “Have you met Reid’s parents?”

“Reginald and Serena came out for dinner last Sunday. They’re very reserved and formal and they positively dripped money. They were nice to me and they fussed over Beebee but it didn’t occur to me they were her great grandparents.” Amy’s voice held a wobble. “Reid didn’t say a word about my relationship to them. I still can’t believe he lied to me. He was always so supportive, always encouraged me to follow my dreams. I trusted him.”

“He loves you,” Nina said, stepping aside so a gray-haired woman could power-walk past. “He’s proved that beyond a doubt.”

Amy brushed her hair out of her eyes and slowed to turn her gaze on Nina. “Does love justify the lies?”

“He made a promise to the Hockings,” Nina said. “He thought he was doing the right thing.”

“I don’t understand why you’re defending him,” Amy said. “I’ve been here over a week. He knew from the first day that I was looking for my biological mother yet he didn’t tell me who you were. Why?”

Nina shook her head. “I can’t answer that. Maybe he thought I would give him away. Have you tried talking this out with Reid?”

“I’m too angry to talk to him,” Amy said. “He went straight to work after breakfast and hasn’t come out of his office all morning.”

A jogger ran by in a burst of pounding feet and spraying gravel. When he’d passed, Nina changed the subject. “What about Beebee’s father?” she said. “What does he think about you coming out here?”

Head down, Amy shrugged unhappily. “I didn’t tell Ian I was leaving, much less where I was going.”

“Why not?” Nina asked. “What happened to make you run away from him?”

“We fought over his job at the meat-packing plant,” Amy said, avoiding Nina’s gaze. “We’re both vegetarians.”

“Don’t you think he has a right to know where his daughter is?” Nina asked, gently, and Amy felt a hot burst of shame. “Is there another reason you left?” Nina added. “You can tell me. If you want to talk about it.”

Amy hesitated; she’d been longing to confide in someone. Her mom and dad didn’t understand and she couldn’t talk to Reid. “Elaine and Jim want us to get married and Ian agrees,” she blurted out. “I just don’t know if I love him enough to settle down with him.”

“I see,” Nina said. “Does he love you?”

“He says he does,” Amy said. “But we’re so young. I’ve seen the statistics on teenage marriages.”

“You have a child,” Nina said. “You could try to make it work for Beebee’s sake.”

“That’s what Jim and Elaine say.” Amy lifted her hands off the stroller’s handles in frustration. “But Ian’s never actually proposed. I’ve never accepted. The decision to be together was forced on us when Beebee arrived,” Amy said, then added hastily, “not that I regret having her.”

“I know what you mean. It’s complicated,” Nina agreed. “I’m not sure I’m qualified to give advice. All I know is, you need to be very certain about the choices you make now because they’ll affect you, Beebee and Ian for the rest of your life.”

“That’s what worries me,” Amy said, feeling the familiar weight of uncertainty over the future pressing on her. “Right now I need some time out. I need to feel I can make it on my own if I have to. I need to find out who I am before I can become someone’s wife.”

They came to a halt at the end of the dike. The trail sloped off in several directions through the grassy wetland. A park with barbecues, swings and a baseball diamond lay on the far side, next to a parking lot. To their left, a large gray bird wading through the shallows flapped away, its long legs trailing behind.

Beebee pointed a chubby fist. “Bird.”

“This is where we usually turn back.” Amy paused to gaze at Mount Baker floating above the distant horizon on the far side of the bay. The mountains were an unexpected bonus to this side of the country and she never tired of them.

“Did you ever consider giving up Beebee for adoption?” Nina asked.

Surprised at the question. Amy replied more fiercely than she intended. “Never.”

Nina flinched. “I admire you for that,” she said. “My own situation was…unstable when I was pregnant with you. I’m glad you had the security of having a well-off family and a steady boyfriend.”

“I don’t want anyone’s help,” Amy insisted. “I told you, I want to be able to support myself.”

“I understand that, more than you might think. But even when you ran away, you had Reid to turn to,” Nina pointed out. “What would you have done if he hadn’t taken you in?”

Amy didn’t like to contemplate that or to be reminded of her obligations to Reid. She frowned and bent over the stroller to check on Beebee. “I would have survived.”

They started back in silence. Amy struggled with the stroller over the rough path, even as she struggled with her conflicting emotions. Suddenly the day seemed ruined, herself on the verge of tears. Then she felt a touch on her shoulder and turned to find Nina watching her with anxious eyes.

“There are decisions I regret, mistakes I’ve made,” Nina said. “Since you turned up, I’ve felt incredibly lucky, as though I’ve been given a second chance. I’m in no position to pass judgment on you. But you’re my daughter. I’d just like to get to know you.”

Amy glanced away then back again, blinking to clear the moisture in her eyes. How had she ever thought this would be easy? “Well, that’s what I came west for.”

“Let me push for a while,” Nina said, taking over the stroller. “Tell me, what type of music do you like? What kind of books? I want to know everything about you. We have so much to catch up on,” she continued before Amy could reply. “We’ll go to Stanley Park and take the ferry to Vancouver Island. Oh, the aquarium is wonderful. Beebee will love the killer whales. I’ll take you on a tour of the television studio.”

“That would be fantastic.” Amy’s heart lightened and so did her step. “I couldn’t believe it when I found out my mother was a TV star.”

Bound to a chair, Luke struggled against the ropes cutting into his wrists. His ankles were tied, too, bending his knees at an unnatural angle that cut off his circulation. Before him paced the General, his chest festooned with colorful medals against his dark green uniform. Luke heard sounds coming from behind him and knew the General’s henchmen were preparing their instruments of torture.

“Where are the documents?” The General spoke flawless English with just a trace of an accent.

“I don’t have them.” Before the soldiers had stormed the warehouse, he’d shoved the manila envelope beneath a loose floorboard.

“I don’t believe you. You want to destroy us.”

The General gave the nod and a man in a dark suit slowly stubbed his burning cigarette out on

Luke’s arm, sending the acrid smell of his own singed flesh up his nostrils.

Sweat poured down Luke’s back. Or was it blood from the gunshot wound that had reopened when they’d dragged him from the warehouse to the basement of this burnt-out church? “I’m only trying do what’s right. I’m protecting innocent people.”

REID LEANED BACK IN HIS chair and put his bare feet up on his desk while he read over the passage. What a load of crap, he thought, shaking his head in disgust. Luke Mann didn’t try to defend his actions like some guilty politician. Never apologize, never explain, that was his motto. With a few keystrokes, Reid deleted what he’d spent all morning laboring over.

Tara was mad at him. Amy said she’d never forgive him and Nina suddenly occupied the moral high ground. Was it any wonder he couldn’t write? Thank God Beebee still regarded him with affection.

On a wide, high shelf to his left sat framed photos of Tara and Carol, a scented candle Carol had claimed would encourage creativity, except that he never remembered to light it, and a carved wooden box where he kept his treasures. He opened it now, pushed aside the baseball card his grandfather had given him, a bald eagle feather, a moon snail shell, a set of poker dice and, in a separate compartment of its own, a child’s gold bracelet set with tiny pink stones.

The bracelet had been Amy’s, his gift to her on her eighth birthday. It had come back to him in a box of clothes and toys Amy had outgrown, which Elaine had passed on to Tara. Reid had intercepted the bracelet for sentimental reasons, keeping it as a reminder of Amy’s childhood when he’d moved back out west. Then he’d gotten Tara her own bracelet.

Reid lifted the thin gold links out of the box and felt the fine weight flow over his fingers. Over the years he’d thought about giving it back to Amy but it was a child’s bracelet; probably it meant more to him than it did to her. Carefully he returned it to its compartment.

Through his shut office door he could hear Amy and Nina out in the family room, the soft cadence of their voices punctuated frequently by laughter. He’d followed their progress on the dike with his bird-watching binoculars until they’d rounded the bend and he couldn’t make out their figures any longer. Now they were back, getting along like a house on fire.

Another gale of laughter brought him to his feet with his hand on the doorknob. To what? Ask them to keep it down or to join them? How did Nina do it? Neither of his daughters were talking to him or to each other but, as soon as Nina had arrived, suddenly the house was filled with conversation and laughter. He’d forgotten how much she liked to talk.

He pressed an ear to the closed door. What was so funny? He should be glad that Nina was getting along well with Amy, except that it stung, coinciding as it did with his abrupt fall from grace. He forced himself back to the computer. He absolutely had to write ten pages today if it killed him.

Upstairs Tara was drawing her bow across the violin strings as loudly as she could, as if trying to drown out Amy and Nina. Another burst of laughter from the family room was followed by a piercing screech of the violin’s top string.

That was it. He couldn’t work in here. Reid grabbed his laptop and slid his feet into his sandals. As he came out of his office Nina and Amy stopped yakking to look at him.

Reid put on his sunglasses and a baseball cap and headed for the French doors. “I’m going to write on the beach,” he said to no one in particular and left without a backward glance.

Nina had been almost as aware of Reid’s unseen presence behind the shut office door as she was of Amy and Beebee, right in front of her. “He was always quiet,” she said to Amy, “but he didn’t use to be this antisocial.”

“He gets grumpy when his book isn’t going well,” Amy said. “Some days he hardly speaks to anyone. He just mutters to himself about some guy called Luke.”

“That’s the hero of his novels,” Nina said.

“I’ve tried reading his books,” Amy added. “I can’t get into spy thrillers.”

“They’re not usually my cup of tea, either.” Yet she’d read all of them. Nina got up and went to the window to watch Reid stalk down the beach to sit cross-legged in the sand against a log with his laptop across his knees. “That doesn’t look very comfortable.”

Amy came to stand beside her. “He told me once he couldn’t work outside because of the seagulls.”

“They can be noisy,” Nina agreed.

“It’s their beady eyes,” Amy corrected her. “They fly in and circle around, coming closer and closer, hoping for food, I guess. They stare at him until he can’t think.”

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