Summer Secrets (29 page)

“I’m thinking about leaving town,” Mark said, ignoring his comment. “Taking Amelia and disappearing forever.”

“You can’t do that, Mark. You need medical care. You’re rehabilitating. How can you go into hiding? You need a full-time nurse.”

“You could help. You’re not getting anywhere in Castleton. Why don’t you come back here and help me and Amelia disappear?”

Like he and his father had disappeared? Always on the run. No chance to make friends, to feel a part of something, belong somewhere. Did he want that for his niece?

“It’s my best chance,” Mark added. “It’s a big world. We couldn’t find you for six years. I don’t think it will take that long for Amelia’s biological mother to give up.”

“It’s a terrible life. I don’t want it for you, and I sure as hell don’t want it for Amelia.”

“It’s better than giving her up. She’s my life. She’s all I have left.”

“But you don’t want to ruin her life.”

“I’m not doing that. I’m trying to save us.”

“You sound just like Dad.” How many times had his father said, I’m trying to save you, Tyler. Save you from a life of pain, living in a home where no one wants you. But his father had been trying to save himself, not his child. Just as Mark was doing now.

“Don’t ever compare me to him,” Mark said coldly. “And I’ll do this with or without your help. I thought you could find something out, but obviously you can’t. I’ll make other arrangements.”

“Don’t do anything yet,” Tyler said, knowing he was well and truly caught. He couldn’t let Mark go off half-cocked. He didn’t want to lose contact with his brother again. “Give me more time. I’ll find out who it is before Saturday. And we’ll make a decision then.”

There was a long silence on the other end of the phone.

“I’ll think about it, Tyler. But make no mistake -- I’ll do what I have to do. If they get too close, I’ll be gone.”

Kate debated what to do next. Torn between anger at her father for betting their portrait and concern for Caroline, Kate wasn’t sure which way to go. In the end, she decided to go after her father. It would be smarter to track down Duncan before he went out on the practice run or drank too much to make any sense. She could not allow him to bet their portrait. It was the only picture she had of her mother and her sisters all together. And she wasn’t about to let K.C. win it and hang it on his wall, as if they were his family. It was sick.

When Kate arrived at her father’s slip on the other side of the marina, she found him on deck talking to Rick Beardsley, the man who had hired him to skipper the Summer Seas in Saturday’s race. She’d met Rick a few times over the years. In his early fifties, he was younger than Duncan but close enough in age to remember Duncan at his best. Which must be why Rick had decided to give Duncan another shot at racing glory.

She paused for a moment, watching the two men talk. Her father had on his usual sailing cap, but what really disturbed her was the bright orange-red T-shirt he had on. He’d always claimed it was his lucky shirt, that it reminded him of the color of her mother’s hair. She also didn’t care for the way he was waving his hands, punctuating each word with obvious vigor. She hadn’t seen him look so energized, vital, and completely in charge in years.

Was she wrong? Was this what he needed? Was this what they all needed?

“Katie,” Duncan called out with a cheerful wave when he spotted her. “Come on up. Say hello to Rick.”

She climbed aboard. “Good morning.”

“Nice to see you again, Kate. I can’t wait to show you my boat this afternoon,” Rick said.

“The practice run, you remember,” Duncan said quickly, a plea in his eye.

Kate was torn once again between family loyalty and honesty. As usual, the two didn’t seem to go together.

“Right,” she said, hoping it was a neutral enough word to satisfy both of them.

“I’ll see you then,” Rick said. ““Remember what we discussed,” he added to Duncan. “I’d like to see Caroline and Ashley onboard as well.”

Duncan nodded. Kate stood motionless and silent until Rick stepped off the boat and was halfway down the dock.

“He thinks I’m racing with you. He thinks we’re all racing with you,” Kate said slowly, realizing that her father had misled Rick.

“It’s a possibility.”

“It is not a possibility.”

“Katie, I want you with me. You’re my daughter. This is a family matter. We’re not just racing to race, but to take back what’s ours. You must help me.”

Her stomach knotted with guilt. He always did know how to push her buttons. “What did you tell Rick?” she asked, trying not to weaken. Someone had to make the tough decisions. Someone had to be logical, practical, and unemotional. And that someone had always been her. She was tired of trying to keep things from sinking or drifting away, but, if she didn’t do it, who would?

“I told him I’m building a solid crew, one that will win, and that my daughters always support me.”

“You don’t always deserve that support.”

“We all make mistakes. But we don’t turn our backs on one another. And there’s a lot at stake.”

“I know exactly what’s at stake. I ran into K.C. a few minutes ago. He told me you bet our portrait on the race. I said that couldn’t possibly be true. You know how much that portrait means to us.”

Duncan shrugged. “Don’t get all bent out of shape. I’m not going to lose.”

“You always say that.”

“And I haven’t lost yet, not to K.C.”

That was true. But they both knew there were things they weren’t saying. “What if this is the first time? How could you live with the idea of K.C. putting that portrait up as if we were his family?”

“It’s what he wanted to wager against the Moon Dancer. I had no other choice.”

“You had a lot of choices, including not making a bet at all.”

“He won’t beat me, Katie. You’re worrying for nothing.”

“I won’t give up that portrait. It’s mine.” The portrait had hung on her wall for the last eight years, and before that it had hung in the main cabin of the Moon Dancer. It had gone around the world with them, and it was one of the few things they’d taken off the boat before they’d sold it.

“Then sail with me, Katie. You were always the best of the girls. If you sail with me, we won’t lose.” His voice grew more energized with each word, the passion of his quest clearly visible in his eyes. “Don’t you want to feel the wind in your hair, at your back, driving you toward the finish line? Don’t you want to hear your heart pounding? Don’t you want to feel alive again?”

It was the talk of an addict, an adrenaline junkie. Hearing the need in his voice awakened memories from long ago. Kate could almost hear the wind, feel the spray in her face, see the other competitors in front of her, behind her, and beside her as they raced for the finish line, willing to win, no matter the cost. She was shocked at how easily it came back to her, that thirst for victory, as if it had been biding its time, hiding beneath the surface, until she couldn’t hold it back anymore.

“I can see it in your eyes, Katie. You want it as much as I do.”

“I don’t.”

“Say yes,” Duncan urged. “Help me right this wrong. K.C. shouldn’t have our boat. Your mother would hate knowing he was sailing it.”

“Would she?” Kate had to ask. There had been too many secrets between them for too long. Perhaps if she understood this one piece, the others would make more sense.

“Of course she would hate it,” Duncan said fiercely. “She was a McKenna. She was proud of that boat, proud of us.”

There were so few things about her father that Kate was certain of, but his love for her mother had never been in question. Would she hurt him if she spoke the words running through her brain? He’d hurt her many times, her conscience argued. But this could go deep. Would her mother want her to speak?

“K.C. told me that Mom loved him first,” she said, taking a deep breath. “He claims that she slept with him, that he actually thought I was his child for most of my childhood. Did you know about that?”

Duncan’s eyes turned cold and hard. “Nora never loved K.C. He lived in a fool’s paradise, and he’s still there, thinking he can take over my life, my boat, my family.”

“That’s what this is all about,” she said, finally understanding the elusive missing piece of Duncan’s ambitious drive and his intense, fierce rivalry with K.C. It had never been about the sailing, not really. It wasn’t who was the better sailor; it was who was the better man. “K.C. couldn’t accept that Mom loved you,” she continued. “For a long time he convinced himself that they had a special secret: me, the daughter no one but the two of them knew about. When he realized that it wasn’t true, the pretense at friendship was over.”

“I won’t let him take over my life, Katie. Your mother chose me.” Duncan brought his hand to his chest. “Me. I was the one for her. But, even after we married, K.C. was always around. Nora said, ‘Let him be, Duncan. He’s lonely. He needs friends.’” Duncan’s voice took on a bitter edge. “She had no idea he was trying to destroy me every chance he got.”

“How did he do that?”

“He’d sabotage my boat before races or he’d bribe someone to race for him instead of for me. He’d drop hints that I was with some broad when I said I was working, just to make your mother doubt me. I didn’t see it at first. I thought they were innocent remarks, but he was playing a game all along. He brought you and the other girls presents when I couldn’t afford to give you what you wanted so he could be the big man.” Duncan looked her straight in the eye. “He bought that damn portrait, Katie.”

“What?” she asked in surprise. “But Mom got it for you, for your birthday.”

“He paid for it. Said he wanted to share in the birthday present. He knew I couldn’t afford it. So he arranged for you all to have it done while I was away on a fishing charter.”

Her heart sank. The portrait was paid for by K.C.? Kate would never be able to look at it in the same way. And her mother had let K.C. do it. Why? Hadn’t she realized that the man was still in love with her?

“Why didn’t Mom tell him to go?” Kate asked. “Did she know he thought he was my father?”

“She was too softhearted. That’s why she let him stay.”

“I don’t believe it was just that.” Perhaps her mother had still felt some love for K.C., some unwillingness to completely break the tie.

“She told him a bunch of times that you weren’t his kid, but it wasn’t until she was on her deathbed that he finally believed her.”

It made sense. Because he’d never been on their side after that.

“That was it for him,” Duncan added. “He’d thought he’d have something of Nora after she died, but he wouldn’t. You weren’t his. You were mine. It broke him. That’s why he went after us during the race. He was always in our faces, always trying to bend the rules.”

K.C. or her father? Kate asked herself. Sometimes she didn’t know who had bent the rules more. It was hard to remember.

“I’m not lying about this, Katie.”

She wanted to believe him. But as she’d told Tyler earlier, Duncan had a way of making everyone believe his lies, including himself.

“We can’t let him win, Katie.” Duncan’s voice once again held desperation. “This is probably our last chance. If he even lets us have this chance.”

“What does that mean?” She stared at her father in dismay. “What else aren’t you telling me?”

“There’s a slim chance K.C. knows something.”

“About the storm?”

“He’s made some comments. I don’t know if he’s fishing, or if he remembers. I want to race him, Katie. I want you and your sisters to help me. Our family will take back what’s ours, making damn sure that K.C. doesn’t end up with anything McKenna. Your mother would have wanted it this way. She wanted you to help me keep the family together. Didn’t you promise her just that?”

Kate wanted to tell him to go to hell. That it wasn’t fair to put this on her. But, on the other hand, she really hated the idea of K.C. sailing their boat. And she hated the thought of him winning their portrait even more.

Now that she realized there had been something between K.C. and her mother, it made all of his other actions -- the presents, the friendly pretense -- that much more sickening. He’d had a hidden agenda the whole time he was acting like a family friend. He’d waited for Duncan to screw up, maybe even tried to help that along, so he could steal Nora back.

Still, race again? It was an impossible thought. She couldn’t go back on the water. She couldn’t face the other sailors, the boats, the crowds, the wind. She couldn’t put herself out like that, couldn’t expose herself to that world again. She knew what men could do in the heat of a race. She knew what she could do.

“I can’t,” she told him. “I want to move forward, not backward.”

“It won’t ever be over, not until we take back the Moon Dancer.”

“We made a promise., Dad.”

Duncan looked her straight in the eye. “I can’t keep it.”

Her heart sank. “Well, I can.”

“Racing is who I am. I’m starving, thirsting, dying for it. Please, I’m begging you. Talk to your sisters, Katie. Together, we can take back what we lost. We won’t be free of the past until we do. Say yes.”

“I can’t.”

“Think about it. Don’t say no now,” he pleaded.

She doubted she’d be able to think of anything else.

She should have stayed at Mike’s, Caroline thought, as she faced herself in the bathroom mirror. She didn’t want to be alone in her apartment. She didn’t want quiet or time to think. Nor did she want to have to look at herself. But she was drawn to the mirror as if it were a car wreck, one she couldn’t pass by without turning her head to see the damage. And there was considerable damage.

Her mascara was no longer on her lashes but under her eyes, giving her the appearance of a prizefighter. Her lipstick was long gone. Her hair lay in sweaty strands on her head. She looked as if she’d spent the night having sex and taking drugs, which was no doubt the conclusion Kate had drawn when she’d found her in Mike’s bed.

It hurt to know that Kate’s opinion of her had only gotten lower. But it was going to get worse, much worse.

Closing her eyes, Caroline took a deep breath. Her head was pounding so hard it was making her sick to her stomach. She’d made a big mistake last night, and it had begun with that one stupid, reckless drink when her father had told her she was a jinx and a klutz and basically not good for much of anything. Damn him. He’d pushed just the right buttons. He’d made her feel bad about herself, insecure, unworthy, the way he’d done so many times before.