Dad's E-Mail Order Bride (5 page)

He didn’t mention that second kiss.

Neither did Courtney. She’d analyze the kiss later. At the moment, her only concern was Rachel.

“I had no idea Rachel would be so upset when I talked you into teasing her, Graham. I need to go apologize.”

“
Apologize?
Don’t be ridiculous. Rachel’s the one who needs to apologize to
you.
”

“And I’m sure Rachel will,” Courtney said. “But I’m not very proud of myself right now for making her cry.”

He started to object again, but Courtney stopped him.

“Please, let me talk to her. If you don’t, it’s going to be a miserable weekend for all of us.”

Graham kept staring at her.

Courtney held his gaze.

“Go through the kitchen,” he finally said, pointing across the great room to the saloon-style doors. “There’s a hallway off the kitchen. Rachel’s bedroom door is the first door on the right.”

“Thank you,” Courtney told him sincerely.

“But when you’re through talking to her,” he said, “tell Rachel I want to see her in my office. No excuses.”

Courtney nodded and started toward the kitchen. When she reached the hallway, she could have found Rachel’s room without Graham’s directions. Broadway was stretched out on the floor, guarding the door.

Courtney bent and gave the big dog’s head a fond pat. And only after Broadway wagged his tail in permission did she stand up and place a gentle knock above a sign that read: Teenzilla Inside—Enter at Your Own Risk.

The first knock failed to produce a response.

Courtney knocked again. “Rachel, it’s Courtney. Can I come in for a minute?”

“Go away!”

This time Courtney turned the doorknob and Broadway saw his chance. By the time Courtney stepped inside the room, Broadway had already launched himself onto the bed beside his mistress.

Rachel’s tearstained face made Courtney wince.

“I owe you an apology, Rachel. It was my idea to play a joke on you, not your father’s. It was a mean thing to do and I’m sorry.”

“It doesn’t matter,” Rachel said, swiping at her eyes with the back of her hand. “I played a mean joke on you. I deserved it.”

Courtney walked across the room. Without being invited, she sat on the edge of Rachel’s bed. “If it makes any difference, I’m still glad I came. I wouldn’t have missed meeting you for anything.”

Rachel’s chin came up. “Really?”

“Really,” Courtney said, reaching for her hand. “After all, you and I have more or less been dating for three months now.”

That comment at least got a half smile out of her. Then Rachel’s face clouded over again, reminding Courtney how much she looked like her father. Same ink-black hair. Same brown eyes with the same hint of sadness if you looked closely enough.

Rachel sniffed and said, “Dad’s really pissed at me, isn’t he?”

Courtney nodded. “And I’m afraid I only made things worse. I’m sorry, Rachel. I printed out some of the e-mails you sent me that I thought were from your dad.”

Rachel gasped. “And you showed them to him?”

“Sorry.”

Rachel flopped back against her pillow with a loud groan. “Now he really is going to kill me. I took stuff from his journal.”

“I know. Graham told me,” Courtney said. “And I hope you realize how wrong that was. Everyone deserves the right to privacy.”

Rachel sat up. “And what about my rights? Every day Dad keeps me here he’s violating my right to life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness.”

Courtney smiled knowingly. “How’d you do on your American history test, by the way?”

“Aced it, of course,” Rachel said, but her tone was still surly.

“Do you really hate living here so much?”

“Wouldn’t you?”

Courtney shrugged. “Actually, I think living here might be a nice change from the city.”

Rachel snorted. “Yeah, but we’re not talking about a nice change. Dad would keep me here permanently if he could.”

“Only because he loves you, Rachel. And he wants to keep you safe.”

“I’m sick and tired of being safe!”

But neither of them mentioned what had led up to Graham moving them to Alaska. It was easier to talk about things like that on the phone than it was in person. The phone provided the barrier a person needed to keep anyone else from seeing their pain.

In one of their more serious conversations, Rachel had told Courtney that her mother had been shot and killed in a robbery outside their apartment building when Rachel was only ten. She’d said Graham had quit his brokerage firm on Wall Street, put their apartment on Park Avenue up for sale and had moved them to Alaska immediately after the funeral, despite strong objections from Graham’s parents and his in-laws.

In fact, now that Courtney thought about it, not once had losing his wife been mentioned in any of the e-mails that were supposedly from Graham—another red flag that should have warned her something wasn’t right. Instead, Courtney had assumed talking about the tragedy was still too painful for him.

But now Courtney understood.

Rachel hadn’t tried to express her father’s feelings because she had no idea how her father felt about her mother’s death. Graham obviously hadn’t shared those feelings with his daughter.

“You don’t really agree that Dad should keep me here all through high school, do you?”

The question pulled Courtney back from her thoughts.

“Something could happen to me right here in Port Protection, you know. I could get eaten by a bear. Or attacked by a wolf. Or I could drown if a whale turned the skiff over and spend eternity in a watery grave at the bottom of the ocean. I could even have my eyes pecked out by a hungry eagle.”

Rachel sighed a dramatic sigh.

“Or,” she said with a pitiful look on her face, “I can continue to die a slow and painful death the way I’m doing now.”

Courtney had to laugh. “You certainly know how to paint a grim picture.”

“Living here is a grim picture,” Rachel mumbled.

“Then let’s change that. At least for this weekend. I came for a party. And I’m not going to let you or your dad cheat me out of that. You’ve told me so much about all of the colorful characters in Port Protection, I’m really going to be upset if I’ve come all this way and I never get to meet them.”

Finally, Rachel smiled.

“Like Snag Horton with his big gold front tooth?”

“Yes,” Courtney said. “I want to meet Snag.”

“And what about Fat Man Jack?”

Courtney laughed. “Were you teasing me? Or did he really have to have a special boat built to hold him?”

“Wouldn’t you if you weighed six hundred pounds?”

“I’d love to meet Fat Man Jack,” Courtney said. “And your friend Tiki.”

“You’re really going to love Tiki’s parents,” Rachel said. “Tiki’s dad has been my dad’s best friend since they were kids when dad spent all his summers here. Yanoo doesn’t say much, but you’ll like him. And Tiki’s mom is way cool like you. Hanya really gets Tiki just like you understand me.”

“And your adopted grandparents are still okay with you having your dad’s party at their general store?”

Rachel nodded. “I told Peg and Hal we’d come early tomorrow and put up all the decorations.”

“We aren’t going to have a party or your surprise dinner tonight unless you go make peace with your dad. He wants to see you in his office as soon as we finish talking.”

“Great,” Rachel grumbled. “I can’t wait.”

“You owe your dad a huge apology, Rachel,” Courtney said. “And you know it.”

A deep sigh escaped Rachel’s lips.

“And he could have been nasty to me, but he wasn’t.”

Rachel rolled her eyes.

“And if I didn’t adore you, I could have been nasty about this whole situation, too,” Courtney reminded her. “Do you realize how embarrassed I was when your dad had no idea I even existed?”

“Okay, okay.” Rachel groaned. “I’ll go make peace with Dad. But
only
because I owe it to you.”

Courtney reached out and gave Rachel a big hug.

To Courtney’s relief, Rachel hugged her back.

“Could you do me one more favor?”

Rachel nodded.

“Do you still have any of the e-mails on file that I thought I was sending to your dad?”

Rachel got up from the bed and walked over to her dresser. Seconds later, she pulled out a folder from her bottom dresser drawer. “I was afraid Dad might catch me, so I always printed them out before I erased them and waited to read them later.”

“Devious of you,” Courtney said, “but perfect for what I have in mind. Would you give them to your dad for me?”

Rachel looked concerned. “But why?”

“Because I wrote those e-mails thinking I was writing them to your dad. And Graham has the right to see them.”

Rachel grinned. “Tell me the truth. Are you crushin’ on my dad, Courtney?”

“I’m just trying to even the score a little. I know a lot about Graham. It’s only fair he should have a chance to know who I am. If he wants to know anything about me, of course,” Courtney added quickly.

“Adults are so weird,” Rachel said. “But whatever.”

“And one more thing,” Courtney said. “I know you want to dress up for dinner tonight, but I really wouldn’t push your dad about that. I think he’s had enough of both of us for one day. Let’s just concentrate on making him the really nice dinner you’ve planned.”

Rachel shook her head. “No way. We
are
dressing up for dinner. And Dad will just have to get over it.”

What was the common bond there?

She skirted around the question when he’d asked earlier, saying only that Rachel had been a bright spot in her day. Not that he questioned her honesty. She’d already proven she was blunt enough to tell him how she felt.

Like telling him he wasn’t a hard sale. Graham smiled, thinking about it.

Until he looked down at his watch again. Five o’clock already. If Rachel didn’t get her butt in gear soon, they were going to be having her big surprise birthday dinner for breakfast.

Rachel’s planning dinner was another mystery to Graham. His daughter had never shown any interest in the kitchen. Not even when her mother was alive.

A wave of guilt suddenly washed over him. He wasn’t being fair, and Graham knew it. Rachel never had the opportunity to have any time in the kitchen with her mother and Julia hadn’t been the in-the-kitchen type.

In fact, both of their careers had been so demanding they’d always had a live-in housekeeper even when they were first married—him the new face on Wall Street, Julia the brilliant new prosecuting attorney determined to make a name for herself. And later, after Rachel was born, a daytime nanny had been added to the staff to care for the child who didn’t quite fit in with a busy and successful couple’s schedules.

And that’s what Graham didn’t understand about Rachel’s damn insistence to return to New York. Why would Rachel want to go back to a life like that? A life so busy you had no time for family? Seeing each other only in passing? Losing sight of yourself and the people most important to you?

Well, not him—not ever.

What had appeared to be the good life on the surface had been far from perfect, regardless of the happy childhood memories Rachel had about living across the street from Central Park. He’d never tarnish those memories. Just as he’d never tell Rachel that her parents’ marriage had been on shaky ground from the very beginning.

As with the rest of his past life, he and Julia had sort of happened to each other. They’d both moved in the same social circle, and their parents had been good friends. Marriage had seemed like the next logical step, and they’d taken it. But their marriage had always been based more on what everyone else expected of them than on any true love for each other.

Sadly, it had taken Julia’s death before Graham realized what a meaningless life he had fallen into. He’d had his priorities completely out of order. He’d placed his career and the almighty dollar above his ten-year-old daughter, whose care had been the responsibility of a long string of housekeepers and nannies instead of her own parents.

He’d failed at marriage.

He would
not
fail as a father.

He’d left New York and never looked back. And he’d come to the one place where he’d always felt centered even as a kid, thanks to his grandfather Morrison. His grandfather had been an unpretentious man who firmly believed that nature and the simple things in life fed a person’s soul and shaped their true character.

Graham had wanted Rachel to experience those same values. And he knew Rachel had been happy the first couple of years, when having her father’s full attention had been a novelty instead of a curse. Graham also knew most of Rachel’s attitude about being stuck in Port Protection now was simply her being a teenager. Still, the thought of Rachel returning to New York turned Graham inside out.

He wanted to keep her safe.

And not only from the type of crime everyone faced living in a large city. Graham wanted to keep Rachel safe from getting caught up in the whole gotta-have-it-all-regardless-of-the-cost madness that skewed a person’s outlook on life.

He’d lived that type of phony existence.

He’d also been raised by a long string of housekeepers and nannies, and he’d been born to parents who still believed money, power and social standing were the measure of a person’s worth. In turn, he’d married a woman who met his parents’ approval and who shared those same beliefs.

Had he stayed in New York, Graham knew he wouldn’t have stood a chance against interference from his parents and from his former in-laws. Had he stayed, it would have been too tempting to fall back into his old routine instead of taking full responsibility for his daughter.

Before Rachel set out on her journey through life, Graham wanted to do for her what his grandfather had done for him. He wanted to teach his daughter that there was so much more to life than an impressive salary, or a luxury penthouse apartment, or a closet filled with designer clothes. He wanted Rachel to know who she was as a person. And the longer he kept Rachel in Alaska, Graham believed, the better chance she would have of learning to appreciate the things that no amount of money, power or social standing could buy.

A loud knock brought Graham upright in his chair.

Speak of the devil.

He prepared himself for another shouting match.

Instead, the first thing Rachel said when she closed his office door was, “I’m so sorry, Dad. For everything. Especially for copying text from your journal.”

“Sorry is a good place to start.”

Her chin came up in defiance. “Well, at least Courtney has forgiven me.”

“Courtney’s a nicer person than I am.”

Rachel mumbled something under her breath.

Graham let it go. “What were you thinking, Rachel? Did you really expect me to take one look at Courtney and fall in love with her?”

“Well, I…uh—” She looked down at the folder she was rolling and unrolling nervously in her hands. When she looked back up she said, “Okay, yes. I did think you would fall in love with Courtney. How could you not fall for her, Dad? She’s smart. She’s pretty. She’s funny. She’s perfect for you. Just like Meg Ryan was perfect for Tom Hanks in
You’ve Got Mail.
”

At least one mystery had been solved—where Rachel had come up with her insane e-mail idea.

“But real life isn’t a movie, Rachel,” he lectured. “In real life people pick their own partners. And if I ever decide to fall in love with someone,
I’ll
decide who’s perfect for me.”

She tossed her hair and said, “In other words, you don’t like someone else making decisions for you, right?”

“Right.”

“Neither do I, Dad.”

He’d walked right into that one. But Graham wasn’t about to let Rachel take control of the conversation.

“The difference,” Graham pointed out, “is that I’m the father, you’re the child, and it’s my duty to make decisions for you until you’re old enough to make them for yourself.”

“No, Dad,” she said. “I was a child when we first moved here. But I’m not a child anymore. And that’s the problem. As long as I stay here, my life isn’t going anywhere. And you don’t seem to care.”

Graham swallowed the big lump in his throat. Is that what Rachel really thought? That he didn’t care how she felt?

“You’re wrong,” Graham said. “I do care. You’re the most important thing in my life, Rachel, and I love you. And because I do love you, there are going to be times when I have to do what I think is best. Can’t you understand that?”

“No,” she said, crossing her arms stubbornly. “But obviously there isn’t anything I can do about it.”

“I’m glad you’ve figured that out,” Graham said, his voice stern now. “Because what you did to Courtney is inexcusable. I hope you’re ashamed of yourself.”

Her head dropped as she looked down at the floor. “I said I was sorry.”

“Sorry isn’t good enough,” Graham said. “But you have Courtney to thank for me postponing any punishment until after the weekend. You invited her, and I expect you to bend over backward to make sure she has a good time while she’s here.”

She looked up again, her expression more repentant this time. “I will, Dad, I promise. And thanks for being so nice to Courtney in spite of being mad at me. She really has been a good friend to me.”

“That’s what has me concerned,” Graham admitted. “I don’t need another woman agreeing with you that you should move to New York. Both of your grandmothers do enough of that already. It only makes you more unhappy living here.”

“But Courtney isn’t like MiMi and Gram at all, Dad. Courtney tells me all the time I should stop worrying about New York and focus on making life in Port Protection work for me while I’m here.”

“Excellent advice,” Graham said a little too quickly.

“Shocker.”
Rachel snorted. “Of course
you
would think Courtney’s advice is excellent.”

Graham grinned in spite of himself.

Rachel only rolled her eyes.

But they both knew this storm had passed—at least for now. And like all parents and children who instinctively know when it’s time to move on from an argument, Graham stood and held his arms out. Rachel stepped around his desk and walked into them.

“Don’t ever think that I don’t care about your feelings,” Graham said, pulling his daughter close as he kissed the top of her head. “But for now you and I are going to have to agree to disagree on you staying in Alaska. Is that a deal?”

“Maybe,” Rachel said, pushing away from him. “I’ll agree to disagree, if you’ll agree to something.” She stuck her hand out. “Deal?”

Graham looked at her outstretched hand, then back at Rachel. “Agree to what?”

“I’m making you a special birthday dinner tonight,” she said proudly. “And I want to dress up as if we were going out to some fancy restaurant in New York. If I can’t go to New York, I’ll bring New York here to Port Protection.”

Graham shrugged. “Okay. Dress anyway you want.”

He reached out to shake on the deal. Rachel jerked her hand back.

“I meant I want
you
to dress for dinner, too, Dad. That’s the deal. And don’t say you don’t have anything nice to wear.”

“I don’t have anything to wear.”

“Yes, you do. You have a tuxedo in your closet.”

“And what were you doing in my closet?”

Rachel grimaced. “Sorry. But I saw the tux when I was looking for your journal.”

She ran for the door after that confession, but she stopped, hurried back and placed the folder she’d been mutilating on his desk. “I almost forgot. Courtney wanted me to give you those. They’re the e-mails she wrote when she thought she was writing them to you.”

Graham was still staring at the folder when Rachel reached the door. He didn’t look up until she said his name.

“Dinner will be ready at seven.” She flashed him a big grin. “That gives you plenty of time to clean up and put on your tux.”

“I am not wearing a tux!” Graham called out as the door closed behind her.

What the hell?

Graham shook his head. His day kept getting crazier by the minute.

First, Courtney had kissed him senseless the second she stepped off the plane. Then, he’d learned his own flesh and blood had put him up for auction on the Internet. Next, he’d been informed Rachel had suddenly decided to become Martha Stewart. And now he’d been told he had to wear a tux to dinner.

Rachel had brought New York to Port Protection, all right. Up close and personal! Glancing at the folder again only made Graham wonder why Courtney wanted him to read the e-mails. Was she trying to give him a better idea of who she was? Or had that second kiss sent her the wrong message that he was interested?

Graham sat behind his desk.

And why had he kissed Courtney that second time? He hadn’t
meant
to kiss her. He’d just been standing there, his arm around her, and she’d been smiling at him. And dammit, he just couldn’t help himself.

Is that what turning forty did to a man?

Did hitting the big four-oh unleash some hidden gene that suddenly made a man feel the need to prove his virility? Or had he only been fooling himself all along? Had he really come to Alaska for Rachel’s protection? Or had he been protecting himself by making sure he wouldn’t have the opportunity to feel anything for a woman again?

He needed a clear head. He had to stop overanalyzing every little thing—worrying about his reaction to this and his reaction to that. Of course, he was attracted to Courtney.

He had eyes, didn’t he?

His reaction was no different than any other healthy man’s reaction to a good-looking woman. He’d been out of circulation so long he’d forgotten what was normal and what wasn’t.

And that sent Graham’s gaze back to the folder again.

Okay. He’d read Courtney’s e-mails. It wasn’t as though he had anything pressing to do at the moment, since Rachel and Courtney were fixing dinner. He had another hour to kill before he had to
dress
for dinner.

And yes, he would wear the tux.

Begrudgingly, but he’d wear it. He’d never tell Rachel, but he would wear a tux to dinner every night until she left for college if that’s what it took to improve her bad attitude.

Graham picked up the folder before he changed his mind. And leaning back in his chair, he propped his feet up on his desk again and opened to Courtney’s first e-mail.