The Homecoming (4 page)

What a beautiful spot to call your home. Of course, it was extremely isolated, which would never do for someone with children. Children needed other children to play with, places to go, things to see and try.

Suddenly, a reason for Danny's withdrawal occurred to her. Perhaps he thought she was married. He hadn't seemed to back away until she'd mentioned her son, she recalled. Could that be why? There was no denying that she found her host extremely attractive, and when he'd looked into her eyes she'd thought that perhaps he felt the same way.

It might have been nice to get to know him better.

Then she laughed at herself.
And how do you propose to do that, Sydney Leigh Ashton? The man lives on a remote Hawaiian island and you live in Portland.

Thinking of Portland reminded her again of Nick. She hastened to finish her breakfast so she could call her mother in Washington and tell her that she wouldn't be home tomorrow as she'd originally planned.

But she wouldn't tell her mother about the boating
accident or what had possessed her to try to sail alone from Kauai to Nanilani. Or that she couldn't really remember much about Nicholas yet. She had the sense that there was something important, something urgent, that she still needed to recall, but it eluded her as surely as her name had eluded her for more than a day.

Oh, well. She finished her breakfast and gathered the dishes to carry inside so Leilani wouldn't have to make an extra trip out to get them. She'd just have to trust that it would come back, as everything else seemed to have.

And hope it was nothing terrible she was forgetting.

S
ydney called her mother, who confessed she'd been getting worried. It wasn't like Sydney to go so long without calling, and she hadn't answered the phone in her hotel room.

After reassuring her mother, she spoke briefly to Nick. His grandfather had taken her son out on his tractor, and he was full of excited chatter about the big event. When she told him she'd probably be away a few more days, he didn't even protest. And although she sort of wished he missed her a little more, she knew that his easy acceptance was a good sign of a well-adjusted child. Given the nightmares he'd had off and on over the years—a recurrent dream in which
someone was trying to steal him from her—she was particularly thankful.

Afterward, feeling ridiculously fatigued, she returned to the lovely room Leilani had put her in and took a nap.

She woke before noon, stretching and wincing when she began to move. Her shoulders, she'd noticed, were stiff and sore, presumably from something to do with the boat she'd been in or from swimming to shore. The ugly knot on her right temple was sore, too, as she'd discovered the hard way when she'd been washing her hair in the shower earlier.

As she rose from the bed, Leilani knocked quietly on the partially open door. “How you feelin' now, little miss?”

Sydney smiled. “Much better, thank you. I feel silly sleeping in the middle of the day. Usually it's my son who nods off.”

“You have a son?”

At Sydney's nod, Leilani said, “How old?”

“He's five and a half.”

The housekeeper's eyes widened. “The same age as Mr. Danny's little boy.”

“Danny has a son, too? He hasn't mentioned him to me.” She was too surprised to resist the urge to gossip, though she knew it was rude.

Leilani's expressive face was suddenly so sad that Sydney was alarmed. “What's wrong?”

“Mr. Danny's son kidnapped four years ago. Never been found.”

“Dear heaven.” Knees weak, Sydney reached for the edge of the mattress as she sank back down. “How old?”

“He was a year old when he was taken. He'd be five now, same as your little boy.”

A shiver ran down Sydney's spine, making her shudder. “How awful.”

“It is.” Leilani shook her head sadly, then cleared her throat. “I didn't come up here to make you sad. I came to tell you lunch will be ready in about half an hour.”

After Leilani had left the room, Sydney sat for a long moment on the edge of the bed. No wonder Danny had gotten quiet this morning. She had inadvertently reminded him of his pain, she was sure.

She couldn't even imagine what she'd do if something happened to Nick. His big blue eyes, the silky feel of his flyaway dark curls beneath her hand, the warmth of his small body snuggled against her when they read their nightly story… She could practically feel him in her arms right now and her throat grew tight. She missed him so much!

She wondered if his father— His father? A panicked sensation caught at her throat and tensed her muscles. She couldn't remember his father! Something was knocking at the closed doors of her consciousness, taunting her, but she simply couldn't bring it into focus. But it had something to do with her son, she was sure.

Why couldn't she remember his father? Her clasped
hands clenched so tightly her knuckles went white. It wasn't just the man she couldn't recall. There was absolutely nothing in her memory about Nick's birth. Or about the husband she must have had at the time. Was it possible she'd borne a child out of wedlock? She might have a head injury but she was pretty sure her moral values hadn't changed that much. Her instinctive recoil at the thought of giving a child the stigma of illegitimacy told her that it was highly unlikely she'd done so.

Thinking back over her conversation with her mother, she reflected that her mother had said nothing about her child's father. Was it possible there wasn't one in the picture? If that were true, where had he gone and why was she raising a child alone? Had he died? Surely she'd know it if he were dead.

She waited for some feeling, some sense of truth or falsehood to strike, but finally she had to admit that she had no idea, none at all, what the story of her son's father might be.

Darn it all! She'd had a few short moments of euphoria when she'd remembered her name and Nick and her family. She simply hadn't taken a complete mental inventory to see what else she might have lost that hadn't returned. She was so frustrated she could feel tears rising, and the weakness only made her angry, which made her cry even more.

Then she glanced at the clock and squeaked in alarm. Lunch was going to be served in a few moments. She didn't want to insult Leilani or her host by
appearing rude or indifferent to their exceptional goodwill. Springing to her feet, she rushed into the adjoining bathroom and splashed cold water over her face. Quickly she ran a brush through her shoulder-length brown hair, then headed for the terrace where Leilani had served breakfast.

 

Sydney rushed through the French doors onto the lanai breathlessly, saying “I'm sorry I'm late.”

Danny turned from the edge of the flagstones, where he'd been standing studying the ocean. “Lunch hasn't been served yet.”

Sydney made a nervous gesture, then caught herself and clasped her hands before her. The small movement made him wonder what she was so nervous about. “What have you been doing this morning?” he asked.

She smiled at that, a wry expression that made her lovely blue eyes twinkle. “I was busy napping. Breakfast wore me out.”

“I'm not surprised.”

“I think I must have been swimming before I hit the rock.” She indicated her temple, where a striking blue-and-purple bruise had formed. “My shoulders are sore and my arms feel like two bags of concrete.”

“Your boat hasn't washed up,” he said. “Are you a strong swimmer?”

“I thought I was,” she said. “I grew up swimming in a river with some pretty strong currents. But the current of Kauai's beaches was a shock the first day I got here.”

He nodded. “There are a few places where it's protected and safe to swim. But there also are a lot of beaches that are too dangerous for swimmers. You should check at your hotel before going in the water.”

Sydney smiled again. “Too late.” Then the smile faded. “Although I might have asked. I don't remember. I don't remember getting a boat, either. I just have a vague impression of waves—one really big one—swamping a small boat I was in, and of swimming.”

“Rogue wave,” he told her. “It's not uncommon here for the surf to be unpredictable. An unusually large wave can come out of nowhere without any warning.”

Leilani came onto the patio then with lunch, which she served beneath the same large umbrella where they'd eaten breakfast.

“This looks wonderful,” Sydney told her. “What are these dishes?”

“Seared
ahi
with a mustard-soy sauce,” Leilani said, “macadamia-nut wontons stuffed with brie, sea-vegetable salad and for dessert, Kilohana mud pie with mocha ice cream.”

“
Ahi
is just tuna,” Danny told her. “And she stole the recipe for the mud pie from her cousin who works at Gaylord's over on Kauai.”

The housekeeper sniffed. “It was my idea first. She's the one who copied. But I don't mind. It's a compliment to know that my cooking is so in demand.”

Danny couldn't entirely suppress the smile that tugged at his lips. “I bet you're making her pay you royalties on that recipe.”

“Ha. What you know?” Leilani gave him her best menacing glare before turning and heading back into the house.

Sydney was staring at him. “Is she really mad at you?”

He shook his head. “Nah. She sharpens her tongue on me all the time. It's a good day when I can pay her back a little.”

Sydney smiled at him as he stepped forward and held her chair. “She and her husband are sort of like family to you, aren't they?”

Family.
The word actually hurt. He didn't know what to say, so he said nothing as he took his seat. But when he glanced at her, Sydney looked stricken.

“I'm so sorry,” she said. “That was thoughtless of me. Leilani told me about your son.”

He nodded curtly. “Apology accepted.”

There was a strained silence as they passed the food. Sydney shook out a huge snowy white napkin and placed it over the short pink shirt and skirt set Leilani had given her that morning. The outfit was one that a granddaughter had left behind and it bared her pale, slender midriff and nicely toned arms.

Danny cleared his throat as she cut into her tuna. “If you'd like to tell me about your son, it's all right.”

As olive branches went, he thought that was quite a large limb. Apparently she agreed, because she looked across the table at him. “He's just a typical little boy.” Then she frowned. “Except for his family structure.”

“What do you mean?”

“I'm not entirely sure,” she admitted, frustration coloring her tone. “I thought I'd remembered everything but this morning I realized I can't recall anything about Nick's father. Nothing! It's like I found my baby under a toadstool or something.”

“You mean you don't remember…” There was no way to put it delicately so he didn't finish the sentence.

A blush that matched her top flooded into her cheeks. “No. But it's odd. I don't feel as if I've ever been married, but I also don't think I'm the kind of woman who'd conceive a child without being in a committed relationship.” She stumbled over her explanation a little, but plowed on. “I really don't have an idea what kind of person I am! I could have a much more colorful history than I think I do.”

They ate in silence for a few minutes while he digested all that she'd told him.

“Have you asked anyone who knew you before?” he said at last. “About what you were like before this?” He didn't think she seemed like a woman who'd sleep around, either. She had the genteel, restrained manner of one who'd been raised a lady. She wasn't wearing a wedding ring and he'd bet she hadn't worn one any time in the recent past, because her ring finger was smooth and unmarred by any paler skin or slight groove from a ring.

“I talked to my mother briefly this morning,” she told him, “but I didn't want to alarm her so I didn't tell her exactly what had happened. Also, I didn't realize
until just a little while ago that there are still some gaps in my memory.” Her voice rose in agitation. “Right now, all I want to do is go home and see Nicholas.”

“I imagine you do,” he said in an effort to calm her, “but it's only been a little more than a day since I found you. Eddie said you need to give yourself a couple of days to relax without any stress.”

“It's stressful being away from my son,” she said in an aggrieved tone. Then she seemed to realize what she had said. “I'm sorry.” Her voice was much more subdued. “That's about as insensitive as I could get.” She looked down at her plate.

“It's all right.” He reached across the table and tapped the back of her hand gently. “I'm sure your son is in excellent hands with your mother. As for your memory lapse, why don't you try not to think about it for the rest of the day?”

Her wide brow wrinkled. “It's hard not to, when I'm just sitting around thinking, thinking, thinking all the time.”

“Now, that I can help with.” He withdrew his hand when he realized he was still lingering, tracing a finger over her soft, satiny skin. “After lunch, I'll take you down to the beach. It's beautiful. Then again, we're in Hawaii. Everything is beautiful.”

“In its own way?” she asked immediately, the twinkle in her eye clueing him in to the fact that she was mimicking the words to an old tune.

He shook his head, groaning. “I'll only take you if you promise not to do that again.”

Sydney smiled, and the small dimple in her left cheek winked at him. “I won't—if you don't give me the opportunity. My mother says I have a song for every occasion.”

“My wife was like that,” he said before he could stop himself.

She went still. “I didn't realize you'd been married.” She made a face. “I guess I just didn't think about it or I'd have assumed you were.”

“She's dead,” he said before she could ask. “After Noah—my son—was kidnapped, she had a terrible struggle with depression. A year later she just couldn't deal with it anymore.”

“She took her own life?” Sydney's eyes were soft and compassionate. “Oh, Danny, I'm so sorry. You've had some awful moments, haven't you?”

You don't know the half of it,
he wanted to say. But he'd already talked too much about his problems. “If you're finished there,” he pointed to her empty plate, “we can go down to the beach. Leilani's family has left every imaginable type of clothing here. I'm sure there's a bathing suit somewhere that will fit you.”

“I'm not so certain I want to go swimming again,” she said, and he could tell she was only half kidding.

“I wouldn't let you,” he said seriously. “It's not safe to swim in the ocean at most of the beaches on Nanilani.”

“Why?”

“Riptides that flow out through breaks in the reefs, really strong undertow, high surf a lot of the time—
you name it. But I'll show you some of the island's prettiest beaches and most unusual features.”

“That sounds wonderful,” she said, “but I'm not sure I'm up to hiking yet.”

“You won't have to.” He stood and came around to pull back her chair. “We use ATVs to get around the island.”

While she went in search of a bathing suit, Danny brought one of the all-terrain vehicles around to the front of the house. It had a double seat to accommodate two passengers, and he put beach towels, water bottles, hats and sunscreen in the attached storage compartment. He also added reef shoes in sizes that he thought might fit her in case she wanted to walk in the water.