Rough Harbor (22 page)

She woke later, how much later she did not know. Bright light came through first and then the stubbly texture of ceiling tiles. She knew without knowing that she was in the hospital, and therefore she could not be dead. Her throat hurt, and her body was sore all over. She turned to the side, and in an instant, he was there.

“Noah,” she managed to say.

“Don’t talk. Try some water.” He handed her a plastic cup with a straw. She took a sip, grateful for the coolness that slid down her throat.

“I remember…”

He shushed her again and ran a hand across her hair. He smiled at her, his dark eyes tired but happy.

“They had to pump your stomach,” he told her. “That’s why it hurts. You’ll be fine. Caitlyn, I…”

“I love you, too,” she managed to say, and he held her hand as she slowly drifted back to sleep.

“Why did Michel St. John want to kill you?” Adriana asked. They were sitting in her living room, drinking tea with a drop of sherry. The Christmas holiday had come and gone, and they were close to New Year’s. Adriana was draped in red silk and black pants, and she was hanging on every word of their story.

“He hated her,” Noah said quickly, putting his tea cup down. Caitlyn looked at him and smiled, her fingers reaching to twine around his own.

Adriana looked at them both and finally blew out an exasperated sigh. “Do tell, please!”

“It is as simple as that. He hated me. He told me that much. I caught him with another woman. I broke up with him. That seemed to make him want me even more. No one had ever said no to him. He tried to win me back, everything he could do. When I kept saying no, when I left, I think it drove him over the edge.”

Adriana looked at her, and Caitlyn nodded. Noah held her hand more closely.

“Well, at least he’ll be sent away for a long, long time.” Adriana nodded with satisfaction.

Caitlyn looked at them and took a deep breath. She felt, for once, surrounded by kindness and love. There hadn’t been time to talk about the future, but all concerned had kept things quiet. Tommy had not admitted to killing Maxwell, only said that is was an accident, two partners in crime getting in an argument. But there was no doubt that the fraud had been going on for awhile, started by Maxwell and finished by Tommy.

“And the reporter, Flynn?” Adriana asked.

“He did what good reporters do, kept digging – or threatening, until Tommy thought the easiest thing to do was to get rid of him.”

There was a pause while they all digested this. Two people were dead, and an entire company had almost been destroyed because of greed.

“And now what?” Adriana asked.

“Well, I think it’s time I took Caitlyn home. Her mother is coming tomorrow.”

They had tracked her mother down after a few days. Apparently, she and her boyfriend had decided to camp in the desert, without any sort of communication with the outside world, except for occasional jaunts to get in cell phone range. It had taken a while to get the message out.

Adriana didn’t want them to leave, Caitlyn could tell, so she drank another cup of tea while Adriana asked more questions, but finally it was time. They took their leave from Adriana and Marion. They drove together, in Noah’s car. Without a word, he took her down to the beach, where they parked and started to walk. They had not spoken a lot since she had woken up, still dizzy and drowsy. It was as if they were saving it up for the right moment. He led her along the beach and up onto Sailor’s Rock.

Hunkering down against the cold, arms wrapped around her knees, she leaned into him, stealing warmth from him. It was a sunny, cold day, the wind attacking their ears, the sound of sea gulls single bright cries.

“I am sorry,” he began.

“You’ve said that enough.”

“I’ll say it forever.”

“You don’t have to. You came for me.” That was all that mattered to her.

“Do you still have secrets from me, Caitlyn?”

“Yes.” She pulled something from her pocket. He looked at the piece of paper.

“I don’t understand.”

“It’s an offer, silly, for the Randall Group. Lock, stock and barrel. I know you’ve recently invested some money in it.” Noah had made up all the money Tommy had stolen, but Caitlyn knew, over time, the firm would be able to pay him back.

“I thought you didn’t have enough money to buy it,” he said, looking down at the piece of paper.

“I have a partner,” she said, moving closer to him. “What kind of partner?” he whispered, pulling him to her so that her lips were just inches from him.

“The fairy godmother kind,” Caitlyn told him. It had been Adriana’s idea, mostly, but it had seemed right.

“Do you turn into a pumpkin soon?”

“No, but we are going to change the name of the company. Queensbay Capital.”

“I like it. Strong, feminine… and not associated with any one person.”

“It exists to make money for its customers, not its owners,” Caitlyn told him, her body aching for him. She looked at him, not able to read the expression on his face. “What do you think? You said you didn’t want to run it, that you had other things you wanted to do. But it’s all I ever wanted…You were right about that…”

“Caitlyn,” he swallowed, “of course, I’ll sell it to you. But on one condition.”

Noah looked up at the horizon, the bright sun sinking into the milky bank of clouds, the water a ribbon of steel gray, flat and calm. Then he turned and looked at her, his brown eyes dark, serious.

“I want to be more than a business deal to you.” He looked down at her hand. She wasn’t wearing any gloves, and her fingers, long and delicate, twined around his own.

He pulled the box from his pocket, popped it open and let the simple round diamond, set on a gold band, speak for him.

She was looking down at his hand, at the ring, which glittered and shimmered in the fading sun.

“Caitlyn Montgomery, I love you. I’ve loved you since you were a little girl, and I didn’t know it. I fell in love with you that summer long ago, and it broke my heart when we left each other. When I came back, I knew that I would see you, and I was prepared to not feel anything, but I couldn’t. The moment I saw you in my house, I knew. I knew that there was never anyone but you for me. And I almost lost you again, but never again will I let that happen. Will you be my wife, my better half, my partner?”

She looked at him, at the crooked smile, at the crinkle of lines marking the California tan on his face. His hair blew in the wind, and out over the harbor, sea gulls called to one another.

“Of course,” she said, “but I have one condition, too.”

He held the ring out for a second and waited.

“What?”

“That we don’t wait too long to make it official.”

He smiled. “How about we start off the New Year right?”

Andrea Stein is a writer of suspenseful romance, a blogger, wife and mother, who lives in Central New Jersey. When not writing, she’s probably trying to squeeze in some reading, in between chauffeuring kids, making dinner, folding the ever present laundry pile and updating the her popular blog:
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andreasteinbooks.com
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