Nathan's Child (8 page)

Which is pretty much the way it had been—minus Carin's store—when Nathan had been growing up. Pelican
Cay had been a place to come to for complete relaxation, to get away from it all.

“Obviously things have changed,” he said gruffly.

Carin nodded. “There are plenty of things to do now. Those who want to can do an afternoon dive or go on a sightseeing boat trip around the island. Three days a week they can take a historical walking tour. The museum is open most afternoons. We've had several historians rave about what a good little collection we've got going.”

“An' if they don't want to go to the museum, Hugh will take them up in his plane or sightseeing in the helicopter,” Lacey said eagerly.

“And next month we're starting horse carriage tours,” Hugh put in.

“So much for peace and quiet,” Nathan muttered.

“There are off-islanders who come for two weeks a year and hate the way things have changed,” Carin said—meaning him and those like him. “But those of us who have to make a living aren't complaining. We're delighted Hugh and his brother have opened things up.”

“It's a matter of balance,” Hugh explained. “We're not trying to turn the place into Nassau. We liked Pelican Cay just the way we found it. But we could afford to come and go as we pleased. People who were living here, most of them were barely making it. They needed a few more opportunities.”

“And Hugh and Lachlan gave them to us. I got my agent, thanks to Hugh.” Carin smiled at him, and Hugh smiled back and winked at her.

Nathan's teeth came together. “Agent?” he said. “What agent?”

“Stacia Coleman. She's a friend of Hugh's. She's in New York.”

“I've heard of her.” Stacia Coleman was one of the younger up-and-coming agents in the business. His own agent, Gabriela del Castillo, had introduced him to her last fall at a gallery opening in Santa Fe.

“Stacia's sharp,” Gaby had told him later. “She has a good eye and good instincts.”

Years ago when he'd first seen her work, Nathan had thought Carin had talent. The paintings he'd seen in her shop yesterday had supported that impression. Even so, he was surprised to hear that she was selling her work not just on Pelican Cay, but through Stacia Coleman, as well. Stacia didn't take on friends' friends. She promoted bonafide artists.

“Stacia's arranging a show for Carin next month,” Hugh said. There was a note of pride in his voice. “In New York City.”

“I'll have to go.”

“It's not a big deal,” Carin said, just as she had before. She actually looked embarrassed.

“The hell it isn't,” Hugh objected. “It's fantastic. You don't get a one-woman show in a New York gallery if you're second rate.”

“No, you don't,” Nathan said. “Congratulations.”

He'd known about her shop. Dominic had mentioned it after he'd visited the cay, months ago. “Arts and crafts stuff. Mobiles, seashells, dust catchers.”

“Wonderful pieces,” Sierra had countered, giving her husband a playful swat. “You philistine. She has one-of-a-kind pieces. Not touristy shlock at all. Come see the painting I bought.”

She'd dragged Nathan into the living room of their Fifth Avenue apartment and pointed to a vibrant, primitive beach scene that complemented the paintings his mother had done even as it outshone them. Whoever had painted it was no amateur.

“Carin painted it,” Sierra had informed him.

Nathan had admired it, but he hadn't studied it long. He'd been too blown away by Dominic's other news—that Carin was on Pelican Cay, that she'd been there for the past twelve years, and that she had a daughter called Lacey who looked just like him.

Now he thought about Carin's talent and Carin's promise—and how she'd buried it for all these years in Pelican Cay. Did she regret it? He certainly couldn't tell from her expression.

“So we might get to go to New York!” Lacey said eagerly.

“Not likely,” Carin said. “New York isn't exactly my cup of tea.”

“But I've never been there,” Lacey argued.

Even Hugh argued. “You have to go. It's not every day you get a show like that. Besides, Stacia wants you there.”

“I know, but—”

“I'll go with you. Lend moral support,” he promised her and reached out to squeeze her hand.

Carin blinked, as if surprised at the offer. But then she smiled. “Maybe.”

“Goody!” Lacey cheered.

“Peachy,” Nathan growled under his breath.

“I beg your pardon?” Carin looked down the table at him.

He shoved his chair back and said through his teeth, “I said I think I'll bring out some fresh peaches for dessert.”

He didn't have any peaches, but he banged around the kitchen until he felt less likely to rip Hugh McGillivray's head off. And then he went back with a couple of fresh pineapples and offered them. “Sorry. Fresh out of peaches. This is all I could find.”

“I don't need anything else. It was a lovely dinner. Thank you.” Carin sounded like the poster girl for Miss Manners.

“Yeah, it was great,” Hugh agreed. “Maybe not as great as whatever Carin would have cooked.” He gave her a wink and a grin, then looked back at Nathan. “But it was a pleasure to meet you.”

Nathan wasn't going to say it had been a pleasure to meet Hugh. “Glad you could come.” That was at least
close to the truth. It was, as his father always claimed, smart to size up the competition.

Carin stood up. “We should be going.”

Nathan glanced at his watch. “It's not even nine-thirty.”

“Some people got up extremely early and had a long exhausting day.” Carin glanced at Lacey, who was trying her best to swallow a yawn.

“I'm fine!” Lacey protested when she could open her mouth without her jaw cracking. “I'm not tired!”

“I didn't say you were. It happens that
I
had a very long day.” Carin yawned, too.

Nathan wasn't sure if she was faking it or not. Maybe she figured she'd been polite long enough. Maybe now she was desperate to get back to her place, get Lacey to bed, then have mad passionate sex with Hugh McGillivray.

Nathan's jaw clenched so tight that he could feel a muscle pulse in his temple. He drew in a deep lungful of air and let it out jerkily. “Whatever you want.”

Carin was still smiling her poster girl smile. “I think we'll just go on, then. Unless you would like us to stay and help clean up the dishes?”

“No.”

Wouldn't want you to miss your date for hot sex by helping with the washing up.

His terse reply caused Carin to blink, as if she didn't have a clue what he thought.

Hugh stood up quickly and eased Carin's chair back for her. Then he turned to Lacey. “C'mon, Lace. Time to hit the road.”

Like he was her father, Nathan thought, his fingers balling into fists.

Lacey sighed, but she muffled another yawn, which meant, Nathan realized, that she really was tired.

“Get your fishing stuff,” Carin directed, “and your backpack and whatever else you brought.”

“I'm leaving my photos,” Lacey said. “Dad says we'll look at them tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow you're helping Miss Gibbs move all those books at the library. Remember?” Carin reminded her.

“Oh, Mom! I don't have to. You know that. It's voluntary. She'll understand.”

“No, she won't. She's relying on you. The books need to be moved, Lacey. And you said you'd help. They're refinishing the floor,” she told Nathan, “and they need to move all the books to one side. Then next week, they'll move them to the other side. The librarian, Miss Gibbs, asked the kids to help. And Lacey—” she turned her gaze on their daughter now “—volunteered.”

“But I—”

“Good for her. I'll help,” Nathan said.

Lacey laughed delightedly. “Will you? Oh, cool!”

“Oh, for heaven's sake, Nathan. You don't need—” Carin began.

“The books need to be moved.” Nathan quoted her words back to her, arching a brow, daring her to deny what she'd just said.

She clamped her lips together.

Getting no denial, he shrugged. “So I'll help. Do me good to volunteer, too. Since the island is going to be my home now….” He stared hard at Carin, making his point, then for good measure turned his gaze on Hugh, as well.

He was gratified to see the other man's obvious surprise.

“Then Lacey can come back here with me after,” Nathan went on smoothly, “and we can go over her photos. We didn't have time today. Give you a chance to do your painting,” he said to Carin. “And Lacey needs to help me on my book, too.”

Her mouth opened as if she were going to argue. Then she shrugged those nearly bare shoulders. “I'm sure Miss Gibbs will be delighted to have your assistance. And that's nice that you and Lacey can work on your book. But I won't be painting. I'll be working in the shop. I only paint on Wednesdays.” She stepped through the open sliding door into the house, heading straight for the front door, then
turning once more to say politely, “Thank you again for the lovely meal. Say thank you, Lacey,” she instructed their daughter.

“Thanks, Dad.” Lacey flashed him a grin that, thank God, didn't look forced.

He reached out and gave her ponytail a tug. “Anytime, kid.”

Hugh stepped around Nathan and opened the door for Carin, then turned back and offered Nathan a grin and a handshake. “Hope we meet again soon.” Pause. “Carin and I will have to have you for a meal.”

It was a blatantly territorial comment and Nathan knew it. He shook Hugh's hand, pistols at dawn not being an option. But nothing required that he respond to that ridiculous remark, so he didn't.

“Night, Dad.” Lacey said brightly, turning to grin up at him. “It was a great day, wasn't it?”

“Yeah, great,” Nathan echoed hollowly. He managed a smile. Just. And one last tug of her ponytail.

For her he was glad that it had been. For him, seeing Carin walk away with Hugh's hand pressed possessively at her back, the blessings had been decidedly mixed.

E
LAINE
, Lorenzo's seventeen-year-old sister, hurried into the shop at ten minutes past nine. “I'm sorry! I'm sorry! I'm sorry I'm late!”

Carin, who was dusting, blinked. “Late? For what?”

“Nathan said to be here at nine.”

“
What?
Nathan said
what
?”

“To be here at nine. That you needed me to work every day.” Elaine looked delighted. “I'm so glad. I was so sick of waitressin'. My feet hurt sooooo bad.”

Carin stared at her. “When did you see Nathan?”

“Saw him yesterday afternoon. Him an' Lacey came by to talk to my dad after they went fishing. Oh, you mean about workin'? Didn't see him. He called last night. Said you had a big show in New York an' you needed more time to paint. I was that happy, I can tell you!”

“Ah.” Carin hesitated. “Um.”

“What you want me to do? Want me to dust? If your cash register is like The Grouper's I won't have any problems with that.” Elaine was so eager that Carin couldn't simply say, There's been a mistake. Go home.

But there had definitely been a mistake! And Nathan Wolfe had made it! How dared he?

“Just…yes, here.” Carin thrust the duster in Elaine's hand. “I need to make a phone call. I'll be right back.”

There was a phone by the register, but Carin went to the one in the back room. She punched out the number of Nathan's cell phone, which he'd given her yesterday. She'd been sure she would never need it. She was wrong.

“What do you think you're doing?” she demanded when he answered.

“Ah, Elaine arrived.”

“Yes, damn it, she arrived! And you're just going to have to get down here and tell her you've made a mistake and she has to go home. And you'd better hope she hasn't given notice at The Grouper!”

“I gave it for her. Stopped in this morning when Lacey and I were on our way to the library.”

“What!” Carin was outraged. “You had no right!”

“Elaine asked me to. And you need time to paint. You said so,” he reminded her.

“That doesn't mean you're supposed to hire someone to work for me! I can't afford—”

“I'm paying her.”

“No!”

“Well, she's not going to work for nothing.”

“You're not hiring my help! You presumptuous bastard! You—”

“Stop shouting in my ear. Ms. Gibbs can probably hear you all the way across the room. This is a library, you know.”

“I don't want—”

“You don't want me here. That's the bottom line. Too bad. I'm staying. And I'm trying to make life a little easier for you.”

“Then leave,” Carin muttered.

“Look, Carin, I know you don't think much of me. So be it. You never gave me a chance. You shut me out. Well, now I'm back. And like it or not, you're stuck with me.”

“That doesn't mean—”

“It means I'm taking an interest in Lacey's life. Lacey's life involves you. You've got a terrific opportunity here. I'm trying to give you a chance to benefit from it. I'll keep Lacey during the days so you won't have to worry about her. Elaine will take care of the shop. And you can paint.”

Carin's jaw tightened. He was so reasonable. He was so right, damn it! “You can't pay her.”

“We'll discuss it later. Go paint.”

“I—”

But there was just dead air. He'd hung up.

Damn it! Carin fumed, she paced, she fussed. She didn't want to be beholden to Nathan Wolfe. She didn't want him running her life.

But it was true, what he'd said—this gallery show was a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity—and Stacia did want more paintings. In fact, she'd called this morning to see how Carin was coming on them.

“Good,” Carin had said, which was only a small lie. “Moving right along.”

“Wonderful. Glad to hear it. When will you be finished?”

“I'm not sure yet. Can I call you in a week or so?”

“A week?” Stacia sounded worried. “I'm going to be out of the city for a few days. How about I call you when I get back? I'll need to come down so we can pack them up for shipping.”

Ordinarily Stacia wouldn't be bothered doing any such thing. It was outside the realm of her job. But she was sure Carin had enormous sales potential.

“You're a phenom ready to be discovered,” was what she'd said. And she was pulling out all the stops to make sure it happened—even going so far as to say she would come to the island herself and make sure that the paintings were packed and shipped properly since there was no “pack and ship” on Pelican Cay.

Stacia had a lot invested in her in terms of time and effort and expense. Of course, she stood to get plenty in return if Carin was the success Stacia thought she would be.

But that meant Carin had to come through with enough work to make mounting the show worthwhile. And that meant she should have hired an Elaine weeks ago, but she hadn't had the money to do so.

Now Nathan was taking Lacey and offering to pay Elaine.

“I can pay him back,” Carin said aloud now.

“You talkin' to me?” Elaine called from the front of the shop.

Carin took a breath. “No. I was talking to Nathan.” She would pay him back. And he wouldn't be able to stop her. “Here,” she said to Elaine. “Let me show you the ropes.”

Elaine learned things quickly. By ten Carin felt she could leave her on her own in the shop, giving her the admonition to call if she needed anything.

Elaine shook her head. “Nathan said not to bother you.”

Carin narrowed her gaze on the young woman. “Call me,” she said. “Or I'll fire you.”

Elaine flashed a broad grin. “Well, when you put it like that…”

Carin went home. Zeno, hoping for a snack, tagged along after her. She gave him a bit of ham and left him sitting on the porch. Then, somewhere between fierce and furious, she headed for the studio to tackle her work.

 

Lacey couldn't have been happier.

As the days passed and she went fishing with her father or shot photos with her father or just walked on the beach and talked to her father, she couldn't have had a better summer.

Carin couldn't have been more of a wreck. Of course she was happy that Lacey was forming bonds with her father. But for herself, as she heard daily the tales of Nathan and Lacey fishing, helping move books at the library, taking photos in the cemetery or going swimming or snorkeling, Carin felt bereft.

She felt hollow. Lonely.

And she couldn't help thinking about what it would have been like if they could have done these things together as a family—the three of them.

That was stupid, of course. If they had been a family, Nathan would never have been able to do what he'd done. He wouldn't have been able to pursue his dreams, find his path, focus on his goals. He would have grown to resent her—and their child.

Too, if she'd announced she was pregnant with his child, she would have caused a huge rift between him and Dominic. Lacey talked a lot about her dad and his brothers when they were growing up. She loved to recount the “Nathan and Dominic and Rhys stories” that her father told her. It was clear they loved and respected each other. And there was no way Carin would have wanted to come between them.

So it was just as well she'd kept her mouth shut. Just as well she'd accepted her fate—and there was no sense in bemoaning the fact that they had no memories together.

But you could have now,
some niggling little inner voice kept telling her.
You could have said yes when Nathan asked you to marry him.

But she was selfish. She didn't want Nathan marrying her out of duty. In her heart she was still a romantic. She wanted to marry for love.

She was thinking about this when Hugh stopped by on Friday after work. He stuck his head in the studio and asked, “How's it going?”

And Carin said wearily, “It isn't,” because thinking about Nathan had depressed her and she hadn't been able to paint much for the last half hour. She decided to take a ten-minute break and have a cup of tea before sending Hugh on his way.

Now he was leaning against the kitchen counter with a bottle of beer in his hand. watching her sympathetically as she paced and muttered. “I don't know how I'm going to get this done.”

“You're trying too hard. You need to relax. Come out to dinner with me.”

“I can't. I've got to work. But every time I try I start to think. And then I stop working. I don't know what to do!”

“Kiss me.”

“What?” She stared at him as if he'd lost his mind.

“Kiss me,” Hugh said. “Now.” He set the beer on the counter, took two steps across the room and hauled her into his arms.

Carin was so amazed she let him. She wrapped her arms around him to keep her balance, and was the recipient of a deep hungry kiss.

“Hard at work, I see,” a voice drawled from the front porch. “Don't let me interrupt.”

Carin froze at the sound. But Hugh took his time finishing the kiss before he drew back and looked over Carin's shoulder at Nathan.

“Not a problem. We can continue later,” he said smugly. “Looking for Lacey?”

“As a matter of fact, I'm not. I'm looking for her mother. I came to see if you—” he looked pointedly at Carin and not at Hugh “—wanted to join us for dinner, seeing as how you've been working so hard all day.” Scorn positively dripped. “Figured I'd give you a ride over. Lacey thought it might save you a little time if you didn't have to cook. Give you more time to paint.” His gaze narrowed and his tone became even more scathing. “But I see you've got other, more important things to do.”

Carin flushed guiltily and was annoyed that she was reacting at all. It wasn't his business what she was doing! Or with whom.

“Hugh stopped by after work and I took a few minutes' break,” she began.

“You don't owe me any explanations.”

“You're damned right I don't!”

“So don't waste your breath. Are you coming with me for dinner or are you going to be too busy going to bed with lover boy?”

“Now there's a thought.” Hugh grinned.

Carin glared at him, then at Nathan. “I'm going to paint, damn it. So you can both just get out of here now.”

Hugh sighed. “Ah, well, I can wait,” he said easily, then bent his head and dropped a light kiss on her lips. He winked as he sauntered out the door past Nathan and down the steps. “See you later, sweetheart.”

Nathan didn't budge. “So,
sweetheart,
are you coming or not?”

“Not,” Carin said. “I need to work.”

Nathan regarded her through narrowed eyes. “You'd better work,” he said. “You'd better be painting your sweet little heart out.”

As Carin watched, he turned on his heel and stomped down the steps. At the bottom of the steps he turned and looked back up at her. “I'll have Lacey home at nine. So whatever you and lover boy get up to in the meantime, you be sure to be painting by then. Fair warning.”

As he drove away, Carin stuck her tongue out at him.

 

Dominic called to see how it was going.

“It's not,” Nathan said testily.

Rhys called to offer advice.

“It's not the same as with you and Mariah,” Nathan said with all the patience he could muster. “Mariah
told
you when she was pregnant. She
wanted
you to be part of Lizzie and Stephen's life.”

Obviously, his brothers talked to their father. Next thing Nathan knew the old man was on the phone.

“What do you want?” Nathan growled.

“Nothing,” Douglas said airily. “Just called to shoot the breeze.”

“Uh-huh.” And pigs could fly. “And you're not going to ask about my love life?”

“Don't have to, do I?” Douglas said. “I think it's pretty clear from your tone that you don't have one.”

Nathan ground his teeth.

“Sure you don't want me to come down and lend a hand?”

“Yes, damn it, I'm sure. And no, damn it, I don't!”

“Giving you a hard time, is she?” Douglas said, sounding almost sympathetic.

“I don't want to talk about it.”

He knew what he was doing. He hoped. Besides, for the moment progress on the Carin front was at a standstill. There was nothing to talk about. She was painting—or so she said. And he was spending the days with Lacey.

He and Carin talked stiltedly when he picked Lacey up or dropped her off. Occasionally Hugh was there when Nathan brought her home.

“Helping you paint, is he?” Nathan found himself snarling more than once.

She didn't answer. It was hard to pick a fight with someone who ignored your provocation. And she did seem pretty paint-spattered much of the time, so he didn't have much of a leg to stand on.

Still, having to leave Lacey there with her mother and Hugh didn't make for restful evenings.

Actually, it made Nathan nuts. He took to going to The Grouper after he dropped Lacey off. There was sure as hell no point in going back to his place. All he'd do there would be to pace the floor and mutter things about Hugh McGillivray's maternal ancestry. Knocking back a beer or two or three with the locals was a much better idea.

At least, though his relationship with Carin was nonexistent, he and Lacey were getting on like a house afire.

He spent most days with Lacey. The day after the dinner at his house, they'd helped Miss Gibbs move library books. Then they'd gone back to his place and had begun to look at slides and talk photography. They did that now almost every day. She was smart as a whip and she had a good
sense of composition. When he explained something, she asked questions, and she got the point.

Every day he spent with her, he learned more about her—and her mother—and felt twin twinges of anger and sadness that he hadn't had a part in her life until now. He blamed Carin. Sometimes he wanted to throttle Carin.