Is everything all right? Miranda paused in the doorway, clutching an armload of white towels against the front of a green T-shirt with a dolphin emblazoned on it.
No, Miranda, nothings been all right since that photo of Sammy landed on my desk. Miranda was undoubtedly talking about the room, not his inner struggle.
Fine.
You looked as if you might be having second thoughts about this, now that youve seen the accommodations. She put the towels on the edge of the bureau.
The accommodations are fine.
If you want to change your mind
I dont, he said shortly, trying to ignore the fact that hed been thinking just that. Hed better concentrate on the room instead of noticing how well those faded jeans fit her slim figure. I need something to use for a desk. A table would work, if you have one to spare. If not, Ill go out and buy one.
No need. Ill find something.
She shoved a strand of hair from her eyes. He found himself thinking that its color was nearer mahogany than auburn and then told himself that it didnt matter in the least what color Mirandas hair was. She vanished before he could say anything, her quick footsteps receding down the hallway.
All right, he needed some rules if he were actually going to stay here. The first one had to be no staring at Miranda. And the second one better be no remembering the past.
He heard her coming before he could decide on rule three. Something thumped against the wall. He reached the door to see Miranda backing toward him, holding one end of a rectangular oak table. Her mother, wearing a dolphin T-shirt also, wrestled with the other end. He sprang to help them.
Mrs. Caldwell, let me take that.
Sallie Caldwell surrendered her grip, giving him a smile too like her daughters for comfort. Im afraid the table doesnt match the rest of the furniture, but Miranda said that didnt matter.
Miranda had probably said that if he didnt like it he could lump it.
Itll work. He guided the heavy table through the doorway, finding it necessary to remind himself again not to let his gaze linger on Mirandas face. Her cheeks were slightly flushed, either from exertion or because she had indeed said what he imagined.
Miranda helped him position the makeshift desk near the window. Then, as if she thought shed spent enough time in his company for one day, she retreated to the doorway where her mother waited.
If theres anything else you need, just let us know. Sallie Caldwell put her arm around her daughters waist with easy affection as she smiled at him. She had Mirandas bronze hair, streaked with gray.
I will. He tried without success to imagine his mother letting gray appear in her hair or wearing faded jeans and a T-shirt.
Well try to make you comfortable while youre here.
They all knew there was nothing comfortable about any of this. Still, he sensed that Mirandas mother meant what she said. There was no artifice about herjust the same unselfconscious natural beauty her daughter had.
Thank you, Mrs. Caldwell. The room will work just fine.
If I stay. The words whispered in his mind as the Caldwell women vanished down the hall.
His cell phone rang, and he flipped it open. Probably Henry, responding to the message hed left at the office. But it wasnt his assistantit was his brother.
Henrys secretary passed your message on to me. Hes out of the office. Whats going on? Curiosity filled Joshs voice.
Out of the office where? What was reliable Henry doing out of the office when hed left him in charge?
Didnt tell me. He could almost see Joshs shrug. Something you want me to take care of before he gets back?
His first instinct was a prompt no, but someone at the office had to know where he was. And why. And how long he intended to stay.
Not exactly. He hesitated. His brother would have to know. As irresponsible as Josh was, he wouldnt spread the news if Tyler asked him not to. I have asituation here, and I dont want anyone else to know the whole story. You can tell Henry, but no one else. Understood?
Got it. He could almost see Josh leaning back, propping his feet on the desk. Whats up?
You remember Miranda Caldwell?
A pause, but Josh would remember. After all, their fathers death had rocked both their worlds.
Your ex-wife.
Yes. Turns out there was something she neglected to mention when we got divorced. I have a son. He waited for an explosion of questions.
Instead Josh whistled softly. I assume youre sure hes yours.
Im sure.
What are you going to do about it?
The very question hed been asking himself. Apparently he already knew the answer. Im going to stay here for a while to get to know him.
He expected an argument. He didnt get it. Okay. Ill tell Henry. What about Mother?
Not yet. He thought uneasily of their mother, honeymooning in Madrid with her new husband. She wouldnt be happy that Miranda was back in his life. Thanks, Josh.
He hung up, realizing why he didnt want to tell anyone. The possession of a son had made him vulnerable. He didnt like to be vulnerable. Mirandas image presented itself in his mind and refused to be dismissed. Look where vulnerability had gotten him eight years ago.
Several hours later, he sat back in the chair and stretched, congratulating himself. He had a reasonable facsimile of an office set up, hed been in touch with Henry about his plans and hed contacted the Charleston subsidiary of Winchester Industries and arranged a meeting there, since it was only a couple of hours away. Almost as much as he might have accomplished in Baltimore.
At corporate headquarters, though, he wouldnt have been quite so distracted by the view from the window. There, hed look out on the Inner Harbor. Here, he looked out at Miranda, busy putting sheets on the clotheslines strung across the yard.
He stood, frowning at the photo of Sammy hed propped next to his computer. The reason had nothing to do with sentiment, he assured himself. Hed put it there to remind himself that he had to find out whod sent it, and why.
He picked it up, gaze straying again to Miranda. The chances hed learn the truth about that without her help were slim and none. Therefore he needed to enlist her aid. He glanced at his watch. Hed better do it now, before Sammy came home from school.
Tucking the photo into his shirt pocket, he headed for the backyard and Miranda.
When he pushed open the screen door, Miranda was bending over an oval wicker clothes basket. She looked up at the sound, and her face went still at the sight of him.
I thought you were busy with work. She shook out a damp sheet and began pinning it to the line, as if to show him that she was busy, as well.
Ive made a good start. He approached her, then had to step back as she shook out another sheet. Dont you have a dryer?
Of course we have a dryer. At his raised eyebrow, she shook her head as if in pity. We like to sleep on air-dried sheets. So do our guests.
Why? He caught the end of the sheet she was manhandling. For a moment he thought shed yank it free, but then she handed him a clothespin.
They smell like sunshine.
You smell like sunshine. He dismissed the vagrant thought. Wouldnt it be more efficient to use a laundry service?
They smell like sunshine.
You smell like sunshine. He dismissed the vagrant thought. Wouldnt it be more efficient to use a laundry service?
Thats not how we do things here. She snapped out the words as if hed insulted her. Sunlight filtered through live oaks and dappled her face.
He reminded himself that he wanted her cooperation, not her enmity. So youre helping to run the inn now.
Thats right. She pinned up another sheet. My college plans were derailed.
Shed been saving money that summer, he remembered, waiting tables at the yacht club so she could attend the community college that fall. Both their lives had gone in an unexpected direction, but hers had obviously been skewed more than his.
Im sorry, he said, and meant it.
She looked at him for a long moment, then nodded in acceptance. I dont regret anything. A smile blazed across her face. I have Sammy.
He nodded, the photo seeming to burn a hole in his pocket. Maybe hed better get to the point before he brought up any more touchy subjects. Ive been thinking about that picture of him.
Ive already told you, I didnt send it. She snatched the basket and ducked under flapping sheets to the other end of the yard.
He followed, evading damp linen. He needed her on his side in this. I know you didnt send it. Dont you want to know who did?
Yes, of course. She stopped, eyes clouded. Ive worried and worried, and I still dont have an idea.
There has to be a way to find out. Why dont we talk to Sammy about this?
Absolutely not. She shot the words at him, shoulders suddenly stiff.
But he may have noticed who took the picture.
I mean it, Tyler. Her soft mouth was firm. I dont want him questioned about this.
Thats ridiculous. If we can find out
Its not ridiculous, she snapped. It looked as if they were back on opposite sides. If we talk to Sammy, hes going to ask how you got a picture of him.
We can say He stopped. What would they say?
I dont want him thinking that some stranger is going around taking pictures of him, manipulating his life. A shiver seemed to run through her. Its bad enough thinking that myself.
All right.
Miranda looked at him suspiciously, and he raised his hands in surrender.
I promise. I wont say anything to him.
The tension went out of her, and she reached up to unpin a dry sheet. He caught the end of it, and she let him help her fold it.
Why? Thats what gets me, she said. Why would anyone want to interfere in our lives like that?
I wish I knew. He had to hurry to keep up with the deft way she flipped the corners together. No ones said anything to you about it?
Nothing.
He finished the last fold, then put the sheet into the basket as Miranda moved on to the next one. She was rightthe sheet did smell like sunshine.
Stop a minute and look at it again. He drew the photo from his pocket and handed it to her.
She studied the picture, absently twisting a strand of hair around her finger. Her gaze lifted, startled, to him. This looks like
What?
Come with me. She dropped a clothespin into the basket and started around the inn at a trot. He had to hurry to keep up with her.
Look. She stopped at the corner of the veranda, pointing.
He stepped closer, looking over her shoulder at the photo, then at the scene in front of them. An ancient, gnarled live oak filled the corner of the yard, its branches so heavy they touched the ground in places. From this angle, they formed a kind of archway through which he saw a corner of the dock. It was exactly the same in the photograph.
Whoever he was, he took the picture here, he said.
This time he was so close he felt the shiver that went through her.
Here. And sometime within the last six months. She touched the photo with one fingertip. I bought that polo shirt for Sammy when school started in September.
Stands to reason it was fairly recent. If he wanted to send it to me, whoever he was, why wait?
Mirandas breath seemed to catch. Tyler, we have to find out who did this. She swung around, apparently not realizing how close he was. She was nearly in his arms.
He caught her arm as she bumped against him. Her smooth skin seemed alive with memoriesvisions of holding her close, of promising to love her forever. The fresh scent of her surrounded and overpowered him.
This was bad. This was very bad. Hed never dreamed those feelings still existed, ready to be awakened. It was as if the very cells of his body remembered her.
Hed wanted Mirandas cooperation. Hed gotten it, but in the process hed found out something very unwelcome about himself. He was still attracted to her.
Chapter Four
Miranda couldnt move. Tyler held her elbows, steadying her, and her hands pressed against his chest. She felt his heartbeat through her palms, up her arms, driving straight to her heart. It had been years since theyd stood together like this. It might as well have been yesterday.
She curled her fingers, pulled her hands away from him. She couldnt look at his face. Instead she focused on the placket of his white knit shirt. Two of the three buttons were open, exposing a V of tanned skin against the white.
That wasnt any better than looking into his eyes. She took a hurried step back, and he released her instantly. If he guessed her reactions
He wouldnt. Tyler was too focused on the task at hand to have time for any other considerations. At the moment he was totally consumed with finding out whod taken the photo of Sammy.
She wanted to know that, too, but somehow she also had to find a way of keeping her balance where Tyler was concerned. That meant not finding herself in any more moments like that one.
Tyler glanced from the photo to the scene before him. He frowned, and she sensed that, as far as he was concerned, the moment when theyd touched might never have been.
Well, good. That was what she wanted, too.
So, we know the picture was taken within the last six months, and by someone standing in just about this spot. He seemed to measure the distance from the driveway to the street. How unusual would it be for someone you dont know to come this far onto the property?
She steadied herself. Tyler didnt feel anything. She wouldnt feel anything, either.
Not unusual at all, Im afraid.
Why not? He shot the question at her with that intent, challenging stare of his. If someones not a guest at the inn, why would he be here?
She pointed to the small placard attached to a post near the end of the driveway. The historical society put those up a few years ago. I worked on the project, as a matter of fact. We designed a walking tour of historical houses. Visitors can pick up a brochure anywhere in town and follow it. In nice weather we often see people, brochure in hand, taking pictures.
Theres no way of tracing them?
None. People dont buy tickets or sign up. They just follow the map. A shiver ran along her arms, and she rubbed them. Sammy wouldnt think anything about it, even if he noticed someone with a camera. She took another step away from him. I should get back to the laundry.