Trouble in Tourmaline (Silhouette Special Edition) (6 page)

“Have a cookie,” David said, pushing the basket of cookies toward Sarah. When she hesitated, he added, “It’s okay.”

She took one, nibbling at it.

“If you like, you can take the cookie with you,” Amy said, certain that the little girl must be eager to see the kittens.

David drained his glass, grabbed another cookie and slid off his stool. “Let’s go, sweetheart.”

He glanced at Amy and she could see his indecision, see him weighing the odds—should he ask her to join them or not? She figured he wouldn’t. For one thing he was peeved with her and for another, he must want to get reacquainted with his daughter.

“Want to come?” he asked, surprising her.

“Just for a moment to see the kittens,” she told him.

She stayed long enough to watch Sarah drop to her knees beside the box, her face rapt as she gazed at cat and kittens.

“Your father named two of them,” Amy said to her. “Hobo’s the mother and Sheba is the tiny black one.”

David took Sarah’s hand and held it close to Hobo’s nose for the cat to sniff. “This is Sarah,” he said. “She’s my daughter and your friend.” He let go of Sarah, reached into the box and picked up the black kitten. “Hold out your hands,” he told Sarah.

When she did, he deposited the kitten onto her palms. “Look,” he said, “Sheba’s eyes are beginning to open. Kittens keep them closed for a week or so after they’re born.”

Sarah studied the kitten intently. “Just a little open,” she said at last. “Do you think she likes me?”

David glanced at Amy as if for help, so she answered. “Sheba’s too small to know about liking yet, but I’m sure she feels safe with you holding her because you’re so very careful.”

“I like her,” Sarah said. “I like her best of all.”

“That’s good,” David told her, “because Sheba is going to be your kitten.” He lifted Sheba as he spoke and eased her down next to her mother. “Right now she needs to eat like her brothers and sister.”

Sarah stared at her father, awestruck. “I get to have my own kitten?”

“You sure do. After all, I have my own cat.”

Sarah digested this, finally smiling broadly.

Amy knew an exit cue when she saw one. “See you guys later,” she told them. “Welcome to Tourmaline, Sarah.”

After the door closed behind Amy, Sarah turned to her father. “Do you think Amy likes me?”

What was all this business about worrying whether animals or people liked her? he wondered. He didn’t recall his daughter being so unsure of herself before.

“I’m willing to bet she does.”

“She’s nice.”

“Yes, she is,” he said absently, troubled about Sarah. Had he ever in his life told her he loved her? He was ashamed that he couldn’t remember. Unable to get the words out now, he tousled her hair. “I’m sure glad you’re with me in Tourmaline, punkin,” he told her.

She giggled. “You used to call me that before.”

“And you used to tell me you weren’t a pumpkin, that pumpkins were round and orange.”

Her pleased grin was his reward for remembering.

“You never met your great-aunt Gert,” he said. “We’ll be going over there in a bit to get your belongings.”

“I’m going to stay here with you?”

“You sure are.” He tended to use the second bedroom for storage, but it did have a single bed in it. “I didn’t know you were coming or I would’ve fixed your room up better. Just as well, this way we can do that together.”

“Mommy says Great-aunt Gert is a psychiatrist.” Sarah pronounced the difficult word precisely, as though she’d been drilled in saying it.

“Right. Do you know what that means?”

“
He
didn’t think I heard him, but he said she takes care of crazies.”

David managed to conceal his spurt of anger. “Psychiatrists are doctors who help people who have problems,” he told her.

“Maybe she won’t like me.”

“Hey, kid, she’ll love you. Trust me.” Now he found he could say it. “I love you and she will, too.”

Her expression showed such doubt it made his heart ache. Why shouldn’t the poor kid doubt him? He hadn’t so much as written her a letter in over an entire year, much less made any effort to see her.

He could apologize, but what would that mean to a six-year-old? What he had to do was gain back her trust. Somehow.

At Gert’s he had to coax Sarah out of the truck, and she clung fiercely to his hand as they walked up to the back door. Gert must have seen him pull into the drive because she had the door open before they got there.

“Hello, Sarah,” she said. “Welcome to Tourmaline.”

Sarah gaped at her. “Amy said that.”

Gert smiled. “We both say welcome to people we like.”

“You do?”

After nodding, Gert invited them inside. “Would you like to shake hands with me, Sarah?” she asked.

After some hesitation, Sarah released David’s hand and held hers out.

“There, now we’re introduced,” Gert told her, “and we can start learning how to be friends.”

After grasping his hand again, Sarah said, “Daddy introduced me to Hobo.”

“Good for him. Cats make great friends.”

“And he said Sheba is my very own kitten.”

Gert glanced at David. “Every little girl needs a kitten.”

“We’ll visit longer another time,” he said. “Right now I need to borrow some single sheets if you have any, plus pick up Sarah’s stuff.”

“I have some stored in the cedar chest. How about a quilt to go with them?”

“Great.”

While Gert went to get the sheets, David found Sarah’s belongings in the hallway leading to the front of the house. With Sarah clinging to his hand, he had to stack the two suitcases, one under his arm, holding the other by the handle. Sarah insisted on trotting out to the truck with him while he loaded them in. He couldn’t blame her for feeling insecure—her life had been radically changed in the last year.

Back in the house with Sarah, he collected the sheets and quilt from Gert.

“You don’t keep any of them in your house, do you?” Sarah asked suddenly.

“Keep what here, dear?” Gert asked.

“Crazies, like
he
said.”

“Murdock,” David muttered, damning the man.

“No, I do not,” Gert said. “You needn’t worry about that. Sometime, when we know each other better, we’ll talk about what I do. All right?”

Sarah nodded dubiously.

When they were driving back to the apartment, Sarah said, “Great-aunt Gert’s sheets smell nice.”

“That’s from the cedar in the chest where she stores them.” He wanted to discuss the “crazies” business, but decided to leave that up to Gert. How had she known exactly the right thing to tell Sarah when they went in, that saying welcome to someone meant you liked them? He shrugged. Obvious. Gert was a shrink, after all.

“She said she liked me,” Sarah told him, as if reading his thought.

“Pretty soon you’ll run out of fingers to count all the animals and people who like you, punkin.”

Sarah giggled. “I’m not a pumpkin.”

He wanted to pull over and hug her, to never let her go, to keep her safe always. Instead he said, “You’re not? From where I sit, you look pretty round and orange to me.”

“Oh, Daddy, you’re so silly,” she told him, still giggling.

Her words warmed his heart.

D
avid didn’t sleep well that night, mostly because he feared Sarah would wake in a strange room and be frightened. But she slept soundly. By morning, he decided he needed help to make certain he didn’t do anything that might upset his daughter. He knew he couldn’t ask his aunt, because Sarah was her grandniece and there was a rule about it being unethical for shrinks to treat relatives. Even though he didn’t want Sarah treated, exactly, just advice about what he should or shouldn’t be doing, he was sure Gert would refer him to someone else. Who?

Amy. Right. She wasn’t a relative and Sarah seemed to like her. He was over his irritation at Amy, convinced she hadn’t deliberately tried to analyze him. He’d set her straight about never doing it again, even involuntarily. She must realize now that,
whether it suited her or not, the way he was suited him. Sarah was a different story. For one thing, she needed to gain more self-confidence.

He couldn’t call Amy since her phone hookup wouldn’t be in till Monday. Glancing at his watch, he decided she might not be up yet. As he made coffee, he pictured her lying asleep in the bed he’d assembled yesterday. If he knocked on her door right now and woke her, would she answer the door in whatever she wore to sleep in?

Hobo came into the kitchen and wound around his ankles, breaking his reverie in the nick of time. Much more and he’d have been at her door trying to find out. He was feeding the cat when Sarah appeared, rubbing her eyes, reminding him he wasn’t exactly free to act on impulse.

“I looked at Sheba, but she was sleeping all curled up with the others,” she said. “So I didn’t pick her up.” Her uncertain expression told him she was waiting for approval.

He nodded. “Kittens need a lot of sleep. Want to help decide what we’ll have for breakfast?”

Before she could answer, the doorbell rang. He opened the door to Amy, who entered carrying a basket covered with a napkin.

“Hi, David and Sarah,” she said, lifting the napkin. “I made some blueberry muffins.”

“Hi, Amy,” Sarah murmured.

David drew in the mouthwatering scent and smiled. “Can’t recall when I last had muffins for breakfast. Sit down and join Sarah and me.”

“I don’t want to intrude.”

“Hey, you made the muffins, you get to eat them with us. Right, punkin?”

Sarah nodded. “Only I’m supposed to get dressed first.”

“School’s out, right?” Without waiting for an answer, he went on. “This is vacation time so we get to lounge around in our nightclothes if we want.”

“You’re dressed,” Sarah pointed out.

“That’s because I’m a man and we’re entertaining a lady. Since you’re a lady, too, you can wear your pj’s in front of her.”

Sarah glanced from him to Amy and back, finally saying, “Okay.” She climbed onto a counter stool.

Thanks to Gert’s reminder to stop for milk yesterday, Sarah had a mug of milk while he and Amy had coffee. He realized there were going to be other things he’d need to be reminded about. Lots of others. When it came to six-year-old girls, he knew next to nothing.

When they finished eating, Amy said to Sarah, “Do you take a bath at night or in the morning?”

Sarah lowered her head. “At night, only I forgot last night.”

She meant her father forgot to ask, David thought.

“So you can take it this morning for once,” Amy said. “No harm done. Do you run the water yourself?”

Sarah nodded but looked hesitant.

“Since you’ve never used this bathtub before, why don’t I go in with you?” Amy said. “You probably won’t need help, but just in case.”

The relief on his daughter’s face was obvious as they left the kitchen.

David cleaned up their dishes while they were gone. After about ten minutes, Amy came back to the kitchen alone. “Sarah’s in the tub,” she told him. “She’s quite capable for her age, but terribly unsure of herself.”

“I’ve noticed.” David cleared his throat. “I’ve been wondering if you’d sort of help me with her. I don’t mean therapy, just to tell me the right things to do.”

Amy eyed him. “The first thing is to establish a good relationship with Sarah. You two need to spend quality time together, whether it’s going places or simply hanging out together.”

He frowned. “I can handle taking her places, but what places? And how the hell am I supposed to know how to hang out with a six-year-old girl?”

“You once were six.”

“Yeah, but I was a boy.”

“You were a child at six and so is she. What did you like to do then?”

David thought back. “When we visited my grandfather, I got to ride a pony. That was my cowboy period.”

“A pony’s no problem. I think I mentioned my brother has a horse ranch just up the road in Carson Valley. My nephew has a pony Sarah can ride. Also, I saw a Camel Rides sign while I was driving to Tourmaline. I bet you never got to ride a camel.”

“I bet you never did, either,” he countered.

“Right, but it’s a possibility for Sarah. She’d be safe enough if you held her.”

“You want me to ride a camel?” His voice was tinged with disbelief.

“Why not?”

“Hey, you thought it up, you have to come, too. We could go this afternoon.”

Amy blinked. “Well, I—”

“Scared?”

She shot him a dirty look. “No more than you. Seriously, though, you and Sarah need to do things together, just the two of you.”

“Okay, we will during the week. This is Sunday and so the three of us can ride camels together.”

She sighed. “I suppose I’ll have to.”

“That’s the spirit. Right now I have a favor to ask of you. I called Cal last night and I’m going over to talk to him this morning. Would you stay with Sarah while I’m gone? I shouldn’t be more than an hour at the most. I was going to leave her with Gert, but Sarah’s—” He paused, the word
stepfather
refusing to come out. “Sarah overheard the man her mother is married to say that Gert took care of crazies and so she’s still a tad dubious about Gert. She’ll be more comfortable with you.”

“No problem, but do you mind if I bring her over to my place?”

“Fine with me. I’ll pick her up there when I get back and we can decide what time to ride those camels.”

After David left, Amy helped Sarah decide what she wanted to wear, letting her know they were going to ride camels later.

“Real camels?” Sarah asked, wide-eyed.

Assured they were, Sarah chose jeans and a T-shirt. “My daddy’s coming with us?” she asked as she got dressed.

“He’s going to ride on your camel with you. Right now, we’re going to make your bed and then you can come over to my apartment until your father gets back. He’ll pick you up there.”

“Mommy says now that we live in the new place with
him,
it’s the maid’s job to make the beds.”

“Your father doesn’t have a maid, so here it’ll be up to you to make your own.”

While they were pulling up the bedcovers, she noticed Sarah push something under the pillow. From the glimpse she caught, it looked to be a stuffed animal so well-loved as to be scruffy. It was too early in their relationship to ask about it, so she didn’t comment. As it turned out, Sarah did have a fair idea of how to make a bed.

“Very good,” Amy told her. “I can see you’ll be a real help to your father.”

She got a dubious look. “I will?”

Amy nodded.

Later, with Sarah over at her own place, Amy expanded on that comment. Sitting on the couch with the little girl, she said, “Your mother is who taught you about taking baths and brushing your teeth and when to change out of dirty clothes, things like that. Your father’s been gone for a while so he’s forgotten about those things, and you’ll have to tell him. That’s part of what I meant about helping him.”

Sarah nodded solemnly.

“Now, I’d really appreciate it if you help me sort through a box of odds and ends I’m trying to unpack and we can decide where they’d look the best in my new apartment.”

Hesitant at first, Sarah soon warmed to putting knickknacks around and changing them from place to place. When the box was empty, Amy offered her a black-and-white wooden cat with an extra-long tail, something she’d seen the girl admiring.

“This is for you,” she said, “not only because you’re a good helper, but because I like you.”

“To keep?” Sarah asked.

“Yes. It’s a present.”

Sarah held the small figure as carefully as she’d handled the live kitten, staring down at it. After a moment, she looked up at Amy almost, but not quite, fearfully. “I forgot to say thank you.”

“No, you didn’t, you just said it. Do you know almost every language has words for
thank-you?
” Amy proceeded to go through French, Spanish, Russian and German thank-yous.

When she finished, she encouraged Sarah to try saying the words. “When your father helps you with something, you can tell him thank-you in German and then he’ll probably say, ‘When I wasn’t looking someone changed my American girl into a German.’”

Sarah giggled. “That’s silly.” Almost immediately she looked stricken.

“It’s okay to be silly sometimes and to make people laugh,” Amy assured her.

After a long silence, Sarah asked, “Can you say
pumpkin
in those other languages?”

Remembering how David had called her punkin, Amy realized this might be important to Sarah. “You can, I’m sure, but I don’t know the words. I have a French dictionary somewhere around here, though, so we can look up the French word.”

Fifteen minutes later, Amy and Sarah were chanting
“citrouille”
together, over and over. By the time David returned, Sarah had it down pat. He walked in to find them both giggling.

“What so funny?” he asked.

Sarah looked at Amy, who said, “It’s a surprise, so we can’t tell.”

“It’s a surprise,” Sarah echoed. “For you.”

“I like funny surprises,” he told her. “Right now it’s time for you to meet Tiny Tim. We can pick up subs and drinks for lunch there, put them in a cooler, and picnic somewhere along the Carson River after the camel rides.”

“I don’t know how to ride a camel,” Sarah said.

“Neither do I, neither does Amy, but we’ll find out together.”

Amy wondered what, if anything, the talk with Cal had produced, but she knew better than to ask. This was Sarah’s day. Besides, she’d come close to shattering David’s trust in her with her offer to help him with Cal’s case. She had to be more careful.

“I still have some of Gert’s cookies for dessert,” she said.

“Will I like Tiny Tim?” Sarah asked.

“You won’t see much of him,” Amy told her, “but I bet you’ll like his sandwiches.”

After a stop at the café, they pulled onto the high-
way, Sarah sharing the back of the pickup’s dual cab with the cooler. “I never rode in one of these before,” she said.

“Two firsts so far today, then,” David said, “with one more to come. Your first time in Tiny Tim’s, your first ride in a pickup and soon your first ride on a camel.”

“I bet Tim isn’t very tiny,” she said. “I could only see his head, but it looked big.”

“Tim’s over six feet and built like a bear,” David confirmed.

“Sometimes people get nicknames that are just the opposite of what they look or act like,” Amy said. “Like calling him Tiny.”

Sarah didn’t say anything for a long time. “That’s mean,” she finally said.

“Tim doesn’t mind,” David said, “or he wouldn’t have named his café Tiny Tim’s.”

“But nicknames can be mean,” Amy added, “if the person making up the name does it to hurt.”

Sarah said nothing more until they arrived at the camel rides. When they got out she grasped her father’s hand, and when they walked over near the camels, she reached for Amy’s hand as well, staring up at the tall beasts. One turned its head and looked directly at them.

“What long eyelashes,” Amy exclaimed.

“In their home desert, those lashes help keep their eyes safe during sandstorms,” the man standing near the camels said. “If you want rides, the little girl will have to be held by Mom or Dad.”

Mom or dad?
Amy realized then they must look
like a family, and the thought gave her a pang. If she never married, would she ever have a child of her own? She believed children were better off with a male and a female parent, so she wasn’t planning to be a single mother. On the other hand, she wasn’t planning to marry, either.

The guy’s words jolted David. Dad, yes, but Mom was off on her honeymoon with a cold-blooded traitor. He glanced at Amy and decided she’d be a better mother than Iris could ever imagine being. Too bad Sarah wasn’t her daughter. “Dad’ll take her with him,” he told the man.

Sarah’s tight grip on his hand told him she was scared. “It’s okay,” he murmured. “You’re with me.” His own words made him realize he’d do anything in the world to keep his little girl safe.

Two of the camels knelt down. After being instructed what to hold on to, and what to expect, David was helped onto one by the camel man, who then handed him Sarah.

He found he wasn’t sitting on a saddle exactly, or if it was a camel saddle, it was nothing like what went on a horse. He held Sarah securely with one arm, using the other hand to grip the projection on the front. When the camel rose to its feet, he felt himself slide forward, then was shoved backward. With a side-to-side swaying gait, his mount walked placidly behind the man leading it. Too much of this, he thought, and a guy could get seasick.

“Are you scared, Daddy?” his daughter asked him in a near whisper.

“Not much. Are you?”

“A little bit. It’s way high up.”

He risked a glance behind and saw Amy aboard a second camel led by a teenage boy. “Okay back there?” David called.

“I can’t believe this was my idea,” she told him.

He chuckled. “Amy’s sort of scared, too,” he said to Sarah.

When the ride was over and the camel knelt for him to slide off, he heaved a sigh of relief, and imagined Amy and Sarah were glad it was over, too.

“Daddy,” Sarah said, once they were on the ground again, “when I get old enough I’m going to ride a camel all by myself, just like Amy.”

What about just like good old dad? He shrugged. So she admired Amy, nothing wrong with that. He did, too, if differently. He tried to visualize Iris on a camel and shook his head. No way.