A Daughter's Story (10 page)

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

“R
ELAX
,
IT
’
S
GOING
to be fine.” Emma smiled at
Chris in her office, across the hall from the bathroom where, the little test
strip was processing.

“You’re obviously not opposed to having a family,” he said,
frowning down at his flip-flops.

The man had nice toes. Well shaped. Perfectly sized for his
feet. Tan.

“I hope to have a family someday. But only after I’m married to
the man I want to spend the rest of my life with.”

She could
not
have the baby of a
fisherman.

“How long has it been?”

Perched on a desk chair, she glanced at the large round watch
on her wrist—a gift from the parents of her graduating students the previous
year. “Two minutes. Three more to go.”

He leaned against the edge of her desk, his hands braced on
either side of him. “I’m never going to marry,” he said. “It wouldn’t be right
knowing that I can’t give a family the priority it deserves. I’m like my
father—I belong on the water.”

She knew all about the lobstering life from Rose.

“How long have you been lobstering?”

“All my life. My father was out on the
Son
Catcher
—that’s my boat—the day I was born.”

Any minute hope she’d harbored that he was just trying out the
life, that he’d leave it someday, went out the window.

Their fathers had both been fishermen. And it sounded as if
they’d both placed the sea above their own families. An omen.

“Do you fish year-round?”

“Yeah. Some states don’t allow it. Massachusetts does.”

“I hear it’s dangerous.”

He shrugged. “Living is dangerous. I know what I’m doing. And
if it’s my time, it’s my time.”

Two minutes left.

With his head still bent, he glanced at her. “You ever been out
on a fishing boat?”

“No.”

She’d never even been down to the docks until two days ago.

“It’s indescribable out there.” His voice took on a new note,
filled with some of the same emotion she’d pulled from his music. “The vastness,
the freedom, the quiet—it’s addictive. The solitude is hard for some people—I
thrive on it. And the waves…every day it’s something new. Every day they ask me
if I’m up to the challenge and I know that the day I’m not is the day I
die.”

“Do you live on your boat?”

“Not technically, no. It has a small galley. I spend the
occasional night out on the water.”

“And the rest of the time?”

He shook his head. Glanced at her watch. “I live in a small
place not far from the docks.”

She nodded. A minute and a half to go.

“Does your dad still fish with you?”

“My folks are both gone.” He looked up. “They passed away
nearly ten years ago. In a freeway pile-up not fifteen minutes from here.”

“They were together?”

He nodded.

“I’m so sorry.”

“Me, too.”

The pause between them could have been awkward, but it wasn’t.
She wanted to put her arms around him and hold him like he’d held her the night
before.

“Do you have siblings?”

“No.” And then in the same breath, he said, “How much
longer?”

“One minute.”

And as soon as he saw that the test was negative, he’d be gone
from her life.

* * *

C
HRIS
FOLLOWED
E
MMA
into her bathroom. He had to know he was okay.

He had to know that she was going to be fine, too.
Unencumbered, as she sought answers regarding her sister.

Holding his breath, he waited as she picked up the strip from
the edge of the sink.

She looked at it and didn’t say anything.

“Well?” He glanced over her shoulder, and had no idea what he
was looking at. What the colors meant.

With the stick in one hand, Emma picked up the folded
instructions.

That couldn’t be good.

“What is it?”

The sense of dread that descended on him weighed more than a
full lobster trap coming up from the bottom of the ocean.

“It’s inconclusive,” she said, staring at the device.

“What does that mean?”

“I’m not sure.”

“You’re pregnant.”

“It’s not a positive result.”

“So, you’re not pregnant.”

“It’s not a negative result, either,” Emma said on her way back
to the office. Placing the stick carefully on top of the instructions, she sat
down at her desk, and called up an internet browser on her computer. While
Chris’s life started to unravel, she typed in, “Pregnancy test
inconclusive.”

He was wearing a T-shirt. In September. And sweating profusely.
Envisioning a kid in his parents’ house.

Where? His parents’ room hadn’t been touched since the day
they’d been killed. The wood floors in the house needed refinishing. There were
splinters where the washer had overflowed into the kitchen a few years back.

He was never there. He couldn’t have a kid at his home.

A vision formed in his mind. Eyes—brown eyes like
Emma’s—staring at him accusingly. Disappointment there. All the things he’d felt
toward his father during his growing-up years—until he was old enough to join
the old man on the boat.

Then he saw his mother’s eyes. Directed at him. She’d forbidden
him to leave her as his father had. Later, she’d begged. For Sara’s sake.

He turned, faced the door. The air was stifling.

“It means there’s an elevated amount of human chorionic
gonadotropin in my system.”

“What the hell is that?”

“A hormone that’s present in a woman’s body during
pregnancy.”

He knew it. God help him.

“The test was positive?”

“No, there wasn’t enough HCG to indicate pregnancy.” The
tranquility in Emma’s eyes calmed him. “Look, Chris. It says here that the
levels could be higher right before my cycle. I’m probably going to have a
period soon.”

“So that’s it? We just wait? For how long? You said you were
irregular. When will we know?”

He needed a drink. On the deck of the
Son
Catcher.
Far out in the water. He wasn’t in control out there,
either, but at least on the ocean he understood the rules.

“It recommends waiting a week and retesting. It also recommends
a blood test. I’ll call my doctor in the morning.”

He didn’t feel a damn bit better. “Have you ever thought you
were pregnant before?”

“No. Except for that one night with you, I’ve always been
extremely careful.”

“But you aren’t on the pill.”

“There’s a history of blood clots in my family. The pill
increases the risk, so my doctor wouldn’t prescribe it for me. I wouldn’t have
taken it even if she had—not with the risk.”

Emma turned off her computer and headed for the door. He
followed her back downstairs. He should go. He could still get some work done on
the boat by spotlight.

In the living room, he saw the couch where he’d spent the
night. A surprisingly restful night.

And he wondered why there wasn’t a man, sharing it with her. It
didn’t make much sense. Emma was in a class all her own. Her beauty and body
aside, she exuded everything good that was female.

“You’ve got a white band of skin on your ring finger.” Like
some kind of idiot, he stood in the middle of her living room, not leaving.

“A broken engagement.”

“Your idea, or his?”

“Mine.”

He nodded. Like Sara. “Lucky you got out before it was too
late.”

“I’m not so sure I did. We were together for five years.”

He folded his arms across his chest. “Did you love him?”

“I thought I did. I loved the life he represented.”

“What made you change your mind?”

“More like ‘who.’” She stood opposite him, her arms crossed,
too. “More than one
who.
”

“He cheated on you?”

“Several times. But that was before we got engaged.”

“You knew he’d been unfaithful to you and you agreed to marry
him, anyway?”

Shrugging, she said, “Like I said, I wanted the life he
promised me.”

“You wanted to be with a man who slept with other women?”

“I wanted to be with Rob because he knows me. He knows my
mother. He not only understood that our lives revolve around finding Claire, he
took on the quest to find her, too. And…he was okay with pandering to my
mother’s idiosyncrasies. And I truly believed, because he promised, that after
we were engaged there would be no more fooling around.”

“But there was.”

“Yes.”

“Recently?”

“I found him in bed with someone, just before I went to
Citadel’s that night. I gave him the night to get his stuff and get out.”

Enlightenment. “Were you planning to stay in the tourist
district that night?”

“For the first time in my life I had no plans. And look where
it got me.”

He tried not to take that personally, considering why they were
together that evening. But he couldn’t stop himself.

“As I recall, you rather…enjoyed…yourself that night. I
remember you saying something about never having had an orgasm before?” His body
reacted to the memory. Or to the words. Or to her.

He had a boat to fix.

A life to live.

She blushed. “I said that out loud?”

“You don’t remember?”

“I remember thinking it.”

“You want to think it again?” He didn’t just say that.

“I…I mean, I can’t, really, can I, since I…have…had, you know,
one.”

The woman entranced him. It had to be her youth, was all. He
was getting old. Jaded. Used to the company of more weathered women.

“You want to feel it again?”

“Of course I do! Now that I know what… Well, clearly Rob wasn’t
the right man. Next time I’ll know not to settle for… I’m sure I’ll find the
right man and when I do—”

“I meant now. Tonight. With me.”

“With you?”

“It’s not like we haven’t done it before. Or like either one of
us is likely to be doing it with anyone else until we know for sure that we
didn’t create a baby together.”

He was a heel. Using the pregnancy she was sure didn’t exist to
get her back in the sack. He’d never sunk so low. What in the hell was the
matter with him?

He’d blame it on the beer.

But there hadn’t been any.

He was stone-cold sober.

And hard as stone, too.

So he said, just to be clear, “I would very much like, with
your permission, to make love with you again. Tonight.”

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

E
MMA
BURNED
FROM
the inside out. Her
skin felt hot. Beneath her skin was hot. She was hot in private places that nice
girls didn’t share with many people.

“You have my permission,” she choked out. She wasn’t drunk. Or
being pressured.

She wanted to have sex with Chris Talbot. Needed to feel the
exquisite sensation again.

Without Chris, her life was all about hurt. And worrying about
more hurt. Hers. Her mother’s. Her sweet baby sister’s.

God help her, Chris took the hurt away.

He moved. She saw the T-shirt and torn jeans. The flip-flops.
His toes. And remembered the office upstairs, the reason he was there.

“Wait.” She didn’t step back when his chest touched her
breasts.

His hands remained at his sides. “What?”

“Do you have a condom?” Rob had taken their supply.

“In my wallet.” They were nose to nose, so close she could feel
the movement of his lips.

Then their lips were touching. Emma opened her mouth, melted
her tongue against his and prayed that her mother would forgive her for having
sex with a man from the docks.

* * *

C
HRIS
HAD
ALWAYS
gotten up after sex. Sara had been the only woman to complain about it,
but he figured there’d been others who would’ve preferred he lie with them for a
while.

He just couldn’t seem to make himself do it. Once it was over,
he was done.

And he told himself to get his naked ass up from the bed of
clothes they’d made on Emma’s couch. He had a long drive ahead and an early
morning. There was no reason to linger.

With one palm, he cupped her belly. “It’s so flat.” Strangely,
the idea of his baby growing there didn’t bring forth the usual panic. He felt
too good to feel bad at the moment, he supposed.

Or maybe he was too weak to muster the energy. Probably why he
was still lying there, cradling her naked body half on top of his.

“You don’t have to worry, Chris.”

“I wish I was as certain of that.”

“Trust me, if I thought, for one second, that I was carrying a
child, I’d be the first one to panic. An unplanned pregnancy would be disastrous
for me, but to be pregnant with a fisherman’s baby? I can’t think of much
worse.”

Not sure what to say to that, Chris lay there, his hand
stilled. “Mind explaining that?” he finally offered.

She leaned up on one elbow, studying his expression. Her eyes
shadowed. “I’m so sorry,” she said, frowning. “I just realized how that
sounded.”

He was still waiting for an explanation.

“You said your father was a fisherman,” she said.

“That’s right.”

“And yet, you don’t think you can be a father because you
fish.”

“I’m old-fashioned enough, hell, just plain old enough, to
believe that a man and a woman should be married to have children,” he said.

“I’m with you on that. Completely.”

“The life of a fisherman does not lend itself to healthy
marriages. Some people make it work. A lot don’t. In my experience, most don’t.
So many times they live separate lives in the same house. I wouldn’t be good
with that kind of relationship.”

Marta and Jim were the exception. Somehow they’d managed.

And Trick and his wife.

There were a few others he knew of.

“Is that what happened with your parents?”

“You could say that.”

“I’m asking you what you say to that.”

She was asking him to tell her things he didn’t talk about. Not
even to Sara.

“I was twelve when I caught my mother in bed with another
man.”

He made himself look her in the eyes, compelling brown eyes
that turned compassionate.

“It wasn’t the first time it had happened.”

“Did your father know?”

“Eventually. I’m not sure when he found out. Or how. Nothing
was ever said to me about it.”

“Did he divorce her?”

“No, he pretended he didn’t know. As near as I could tell, he
felt responsible, which is crazy if you ask me. Yeah, he left her alone, all day
every day for weeks and weeks at a time. But it was a flaw in her character that
allowed her to give herself over to the arms of another man. At least while she
was still married. She’d made vows to my dad.”

“It couldn’t have been easy. Growing up knowing that about your
mom. But it must have been hard for her, too. Did she and your dad do things
together when he wasn’t fishing?”

“By the time he got home at night, he was exhausted. And every
single time he went out on the boat, not only was he unavailable in case of an
emergency, but he was also putting himself in danger. She’d worry, every day,
that this would be the day she’d get the call. Even when the sun was shining and
the waves were kind. When she got to the point where she couldn’t stand it, he
promised her he’d cut back, that he’d be home more, fish fewer days. But every
morning, when he woke up, he’d hear the call and off he’d go.

“I’m not saying the blame was all Mom’s. She was sensitive. And
emotional. She needed a man around her to feel safe.”

“He left even knowing that she was turning to other men?”

“Yeah.”

“Maybe he just didn’t love her enough.”

“The one and only instance I saw my father cry was one rare
night we got home early—in time to see a truck pulling out of our driveway. I
was about sixteen. I knew what was going on, but I hadn’t known that he did. He
asked me to get out of the truck, to tell my mother that he was going to buy
cigarettes, and then he backed slowly down the drive. I saw the tears when he
glanced up at the house.”

“But he came back.”

“As soon as he got the cigarettes he said he was going after.
He came in the house, kissed my mother hello and asked what smelled so
delicious. She’d had a casserole cooking in the oven for our dinner while she’d
been having sex with another man.”

Chris heard his voice. Recognized it. But nothing else about
himself was familiar at the moment. He’d taken complete and total leave of Chris
Talbot.

“My father was a fisherman.”

“What?” All his thoughts fled as he stared at her. “From
Comfort Cove? Who is he? I must know him.”

Good God, whose daughter had he just slept with?

“His name was Dale. Dale Sanderson. He was from around here,
but he wasn’t from a fishing family. He helped out at the docks for a couple of
summers.”

“Before you were born?”

“And after.”

“So that would have been twenty-nine years ago,” Chris said. “I
was eleven and not really allowed down at the docks yet then, but Manny was
there.”

“From what I understand, my father worked on an older man’s
boat.”

“Does you mother know about us?”

“Absolutely not! She’d be a wreck if she knew I’d been anywhere
near the docks. I heard about the docks and the men who hung out there pretty
much every time I went out from the time I hit puberty until I left for college.
I wasn’t supposed to drink or do drugs, but most especially I was not to venture
anywhere near the docks. They aren’t a safe place for girls.”

“I agree with your mother.” Honor forced him to speak up. He
wasn’t good for her. Not in the long-term.

Emma laid her head against his chest. “Mom’s understandably
neurotic,” she said, “but she’s also right a lot of the time. My father married
her when she was pregnant with me. And then, when she got pregnant with Claire,
he was offered a job in Alaska, working at sea full-time, with the promise of
his own boat after a couple of years.”

“Your mother didn’t want to live in Alaska all alone.” He knew
the drill. Understood. Sara couldn’t stand the thought of living in Comfort
Cove, the town where she grew up, where her family and most of her friends still
lived, all alone. She hadn’t wanted sole responsibility of raising their
children.

“He didn’t want to take us. He filed for divorce and took
off.”

“He paid child support, though, right?” The near darkness of
the room held them in a cocoon that was apart from real life.

“No.”

“Have you ever heard from him? Did he get his boat?” And was
the boat worth sacrificing his family for?

Chris was afraid he knew the answer to that one.

“He didn’t live long enough.”

“What happened?”

“The classic bad-boy story,” Emma said, her tone dry. “Shortly
after arriving in Alaska, he got involved with a married woman and her husband
came looking for my father. He found him drunk in a bar. There was a fight. My
father ended up unconscious and later died. He’d still had my mother listed as
next of kin on his life-insurance policy.”

“So your mother got support money in a roundabout way.”

“The payout was barely enough to cover the cost of the
funeral.”

“What about his parents? Did you know your grandparents?”

“I don’t know anything about them. He was in foster care from a
pretty young age, which is how he ended up in Comfort Cove.”

“What about your mother? Do you have grandparents nearby?”

“No. They disowned her when she turned up pregnant with me, but
they came around after I was born. We lived with them after my father left until
Claire was born, but I don’t remember that time. Mom had her teaching degree by
then and had met Frank, whom they loved. But after Claire was taken…everything
just went crazy, you know? Mom shut everyone out. My grandmother fell apart. She
couldn’t do anything. She cried any time she saw either one of us. Eventually
she and my grandfather moved to Florida. My grandmother died a couple of years
ago.”

And he thought he’d had a hard life. Emma Sanderson was
stronger than he’d ever had a hope of being.

“What happened to him?”

“He’s still down there, living in the retirement community they
lived in together. He golfs all the time. Last year he married a widow he met at
their resort. They came up for a couple of days over Christmas. Harriet’s a
decade younger than him and she adores him. I guess she had a rough first
marriage. And no children, although she always wanted them. Anyway, I liked her.
So did my mother.”

She had family. Any child she had would have family.

And most clearly, he, a man of the sea, would not be welcome.
He’d digest the knowledge later, when he wasn’t feeling so complacent.

For now, he’d best take his freedom, and his pants, and get
out.