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“I want it.”
She got him the papers, then returned to the parlor to join Toby and the dog while Rick filled in all the blanks on the application.
“Finished?”
He looked up to see her standing in the door to the hall, still dressed in her forties finery, with Toby on one side and the dog on the other.
He grinned. “All done.”
“Then leave those boring papers right there and come on. I want you to see the Lady Kate.”
They all trooped out to the sloping expanse of lawn behind the house and down to the lake. She took them out onto a wide dock and into the attached boathouse, where the houseboat, that had been mentioned in the ad was moored next to a much smaller open-bowed ski boat.
“This is the Lady Kate, one of my grandpa Ben’s favorite toys,” Natalie explained fondly, patting the hull of the larger boat. “Grandma Kate liked speed and adventure. She was an ace pilot. She even had a hydroplane dock put in at the estate across the lake. And just a few years ago, she bought herself a matching pair of jet skis. She was forever harassing the rest of us to buzz around the lake with her. But Grandpa Ben had a quieter side. He liked long days on the lake with his fishing pole. Sometimes he’d take me with him. And more than once, he took my whole family—my dad and mom, my brother and sisters and me. We’d all stay the night out on the water.” She laughed her musical laugh. “It was no hardship, I can tell you. The Lady Kate has all the conveniences of home. She’ll be at your disposal during the time you stay here.” For a moment, those enormous eyes met his. And he couldn’t help thinking that he’d like more than the houseboat to be at his disposal.
He wondered at himself. In the past few years, since the debacle that had been his relationship with Vanessa, he’d been wary of women. But from the moment he stepped into Natalie Fortune’s parlor, his usual wariness had seemed to fade away.
The big dog bumped against his side. And Toby, who was holding Natalie’s hand, turned for the door that would take them out onto the open dock. The adults and the dog followed where the silent little boy led them.
Outside, the water lapped softly against the pilings and the wind ruffled the surface of the water and far off over the lake somewhere Rick actually imagined he heard the wild, laughing cry of a loon.
He wanted to forget all about Minneapolis and the architectural firm where he’d been working like a demon for nearly a decade now. He wanted to forget his expensive house on its nice suburban street and just stay here. Leave it all behind and remain forever in the rambling farmhouse by the lake with the son who had smiled today and the big, friendly dog and the enchanting woman who sang along to Janis Joplin wearing a lampshade on her head.
But none of that was possible—not for two weeks, anyway.
He smiled at his son. “It’s time to go.”
Two
Natalie waved goodbye as her new tenants drove off. Bernie bumped against her side. She knelt and ruffled his neck fur.
“You love ’em, don’t you, boy?”
Bernie swiped at her with his big, sloppy tongue, letting her know just how happy he was. Natalie laughed and ducked away from his canine kisses. She was every bit as pleased as her dog.
Not to mention relieved. Five prospective tenants had come by yesterday; none of them had worked out. But now she could relax. She’d found just the right people to look after the house and Bernie. The silent, sad-eyed little boy was adorable. And Rick Dalton seemed ready to treat her house and her dog as if they were his own.
He was also a hunk, with his lean good looks and his warm, exciting smile. And she would be living right here with him for two weeks….
Letting out a little grunt of self-disgust, Natalie rose from petting the dog. It was only in her silly, romantic fantasies that men like Rick Dalton wanted a woman like her. In real life, she was much too ordinary to hold their interest for long. And besides, he was taking the house for his son’s sake. He’d have his hands full trying to get to know that little boy of his. The last thing he’d be looking for would be a summer romance.
And Natalie wasn’t looking for romance, either—at least not until she got on that cruise ship and met someone exotic and different. Then maybe she’d go in for a shipboard dalliance. So what if she’d never been the “dallying” type. There was a first time for everything, after all.
“Come on, Bernie.” She started up the walk. Halfway to the porch, she heard the phone ringing. She broke into a sprint and almost turned her ankle on the step, thanks to the platform shoes from Grandma Kate’s trunk.
She made it to the foyer extension just before the answering machine picked up in the study—and then she wished she hadn’t hurried.
“Natalie, what took you so long?” It was Joel Baines, whom Natalie had dated exclusively for five years, until a month ago, when Joel broke it off.
At first, after Joel told her it was over, Natalie had been crushed. She’d wandered around the house in a bathrobe, beset by crying jags, wondering what was the matter with her. But then she’d come to her senses and realized that Joel had done her a favor; she’d faced facts. Joel had been with her for two reasons: because it stroked his ego to have a Fortune on his arm, and because she’d made herself so incredibly convenient—always there when he needed her, always ready to do things his way. She didn’t need a man like him in her life.
Unfortunately, for the past few days, Joel had been having second thoughts about his decision to end their relationship.
Natalie hadn’t. “Joel, stop calling me.”
“But, Natalie…”
“I mean it. Listen. Do. Not. Call. Me. Again.”
“Natalie, I was a fool.”
“Joel, you betrayed me.” He had confessed that he’d been unfaithful, just before he told her that he was through with her.
“I never should have told you about my little mistakes,” Joel said. “I can see that now.”
“Just leave me alone. Please.”
“I love you, Natalie. There’s a big fat hole in my life with you gone. If you’ll just—”
“Goodbye, Joel.” She hung up.
And, for a moment, she felt really good. Really, completely in charge of her life and affairs.
But only for a moment. Then, through the door she’d left open when she raced for the phone, she saw her mother’s white Mercedes as it fishtailed into the turnaround by the front walk. Erica Fortune stomped on the brakes and brought the car to a skidding stop, spewing gravel in her wake.
With a sigh, Natalie went out to meet her.
Erica emerged from the car wearing a beautiful white linen suit that should have been a mass of wrinkles, but wasn’t. On Erica Fortune, linen didn’t dare wrinkle.
“Oh, Nat. Thank God you’re here.”
“What is it, Mother?”
Erica smoothed back her shining silvery-blond hair with a slim, perfectly manicured hand. The huge emerald ring that matched her eyes glittered in the sunlight. In her other hand she clutched a rolled newspaper. “Here. Look.” She held out the paper.
Reluctantly Natalie took it and opened it up. It was that day’s edition of the Star Tribune.
“Bottom right,” her mother muttered.
Natalie turned the paper over. And there was her father’s face. Bad Business at Fortune Industries, the headline read.
“I just…I need to talk,” Erica said, giving Bernie, who had been waiting patiently for her to notice him, an absentminded pat on the head. Then she let out a small moan. “Oh, Nat, I just don’t know what’s happening with him. Do you know what that article says?”
Natalie shook her head.
“It dredges up all the old dirt all over again, accusing your father openly of sabotaging his own company. There’s a lot about the total insanity of his selling his personal stock to that awful, incomprehensible Monica Malone.”
Like Erica and Natalie’s sister, Allie, Monica Malone had once been a Fortune Cosmetics spokesmodel—the very first one, decades ago. And along with becoming Fortune’s Face, the woman had become the reigning queen of the silver screen. No one in the family could stand her, but it seemed she was always in the background somewhere, stirring up trouble—and never more so than recently, since Grandma Kate’s death. She’d been buying up stock in the company wherever she could find it. And when it came out six months before that Jake had turned his own shares over to her, no one had known what to make of it—and they still didn’t, because Jake adamantly refused to give a single reason for what he had done.
“And that’s not all that’s in there,” Erica continued. “There’s speculation about the fires at the Fortune labs, a rundown on the threats against Allie, a description of the company break-ins, and if you turn the page you’ll be treated to a chart that shows how far the company stock has fallen. Jake gets the blame for not dealing with anything right.
“Oh, what’s happened to him?” Erica moaned. “I just… I still can’t understand why he would do such a thing. He’s always put his duty to the family and the company above everything else.”
Natalie was scanning the article. She looked up. “I can’t see anything new here. It’s just more of the same old stuff.”
Her mother sniffed. “Yes, and now even more people know all about it, since it’s a front-page story in the Sunday edition.”
Natalie asked carefully, “Mom, what can you do about this?”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean, are you going over to see Dad? Is that it?”
“No. I can’t do that. You know I can’t. Jake and I are hardly speaking.”
“Well, then, maybe it’s a mistake to get all worked up.”
Erica shook her head. “I can’t help myself. I’ve been furious with your father for a long time now. But lately, I… Nat, a woman can’t just forget all about a man she’s spent thirty years of her life with.”
Natalie knew what was really bothering her mother: Erica still loved Jake. And Jake still loved her. Natalie wished they would work through their differences and reunite. But she was not going to get sucked into the family drama this time around. She had spent too many years playing confessor, comforter and caregiver to her family—as well as to the men in her life. And now she was bound and determined to make things different for herself.
“Nat…”
“What?”
“You know, if anyone could get through to your father, it would be you. You’re so reasonable and level-headed, and you always know just what to say to get people to open up to you.”
Natalie looked straight into her mother’s gorgeous green eyes. “Mom, we have talked about this. I won’t play go-between. Not anymore. And that’s that.”
Erica was quiet. Somewhere in the trees beside the house, a bird trilled out a few bars of song. Then Erica nodded. “Of course. You’re right. I know you are.”
In spite of her determination not to play the role of rescuer, Natalie ached for her mother. Within Erica there had always been a deep vein of dissatisfaction, of restlessness, though the world saw only a beautiful mask of cool ice-princess control. Lately, since Erica and Jake had separated, the veneer of cool control seemed to be cracking around the edges, while the fitful unhappiness was more and more obvious.
Natalie tucked the paper under one arm and put the other around her mother’s proud, model-straight shoulders. “Come on inside. I have some iced tea already brewed.”
Her mother perked up a little. “You’re a lifesaver, Nat. If we could just sit and talk for a while, I know I’ll feel better.”
“And that’s just what we’ll do. Come on.”
But Erica had stepped outside her own misery enough to notice what Natalie was wearing. She stood back. “What in the world have you been up to?”
“Dress-up.” Natalie was glad for the chance to lighten the mood. She turned in a circle, vamping. “Do I look fabulous, or what?”
Erica groaned. “Or what.”
Natalie shimmied her shoulders and shook her behind. “You’re just jealous, that’s all. You cool, understated types never get to wear the bangles and beads.”
Erica tipped her blond head to the side. “You know, fifty years ago, it would have been showstopping.”
“Fifty years ago, I’m sure it was.”
“Where did you get it?”
“I found a trunk in the attic.”
Erica laughed, then considered. “That dress was not Kate’s. It’s too flashy for Kate.”
“I thought the same thing. But who knows? Whoever it belonged to, it was in the trunk, and I couldn’t resist trying it on.”
Both women grinned, then grew somber. And then, as so rarely happened now, Natalie was the child again, looking to her mother for comfort.
“I miss her, Mom.”
And Erica was the one putting a consoling arm around her daughter. “We all do, honey.”
Natalie leaned into her mother’s embrace. “It’s as if the world is spiraling out of control, since we lost her.”
“I know. Oh, I know.”
“I can’t help feeling that if she were here, everything would be all right. She’d get right to the bottom of this…problem with Dad. And she’d take care of that awful Monica Malone. And she’d know right away if Tracey Ducet was the phony we all thinks she is.” Tracey, who was the image of Natalie’s aunt Lindsay, had recently surfaced claiming to be Lindsay’s lost twin— and thus the heir to a huge chunk of Fortune assets. Sterling Foster, the Fortune family’s longtime attorney, had been investigating her claim, privately saying it was false, but unable to prove anything, since the FBI records seemed to have been lost somehow.
“But Kate is not here,” Erica said sadly. “And we must accept that.”
Natalie leaned even closer to her mother. At the same time, she felt for the chain around her own neck, and the rosebud charm at the end of it. The rosebud was a talisman from her grandmother; Kate had left a different charm to each of her children and grandchildren. “Mom?”
“Hmm?”
“Sometimes I feel that she is here. Do you know what I mean? That she’s watching over us. That she’ll never let real harm come to any of us.”
“Oh, Nat,” Erica murmured tenderly, “you always were the most sentimental of all my babies.”
“Okay, so it’s corny. But still, it’s how I feel.”
Erica made a sound of understanding and stroked Natalie’s hair.
Then Natalie stepped back. “Now come on.” She took her mother’s hand. “Let’s go in. I could use a little iced tea myself.”
Hand in hand, mother and daughter walked up the white-pebbled walk between the rose trees to the house.
Neither of them noticed that Bernie didn’t follow. The big dog had wandered down to the boat dock behind the house.
And during the whole time Natalie and her mother were sharing iced tea and sympathy at the breakfast table, Bernie sat at the end of the dock, staring longingly out over the water to where a blue-and-white patio boat floated lazily on the slow currents of the lake.
“This is pure foolishness, Kate. And you know it.” Sterling Foster rose from the pilot’s chair of the patio boat and went to stand in the bright sun at the bow.
Kate watched him. He was a handsome man, tall and still trim, even in his mid-sixties, his shoulders straight and square. His hair was thick and white as snow. Kate had always liked him and admired him. In the past eighteen months, since the plane crash, she supposed it had gone beyond mere liking. But she stopped there. Her whole life was on hold until this crisis was solved. She had never planned to stay “dead” for this long, but she couldn’t figure out how to come back without destroying all that she had accomplished—and all she had yet to do.
Kate’s best friend wasn’t pleased with her now, though. He turned and focused penetrating blue eyes on her. “You’re a very distinctive-looking woman.”
