The Homecoming

“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.

A few minutes later Sydney came out the door. She was wearing a sleeveless white T-shirt dress with armholes that drooped nearly to the waist, allowing him a glimpse of a powder-blue bikini beneath.

She climbed on the bike behind him, and Danny suddenly realized how intimate their excursion was going to be. “You’ll have to put your arms around my waist and hang on,” he said, clearing his throat. “I’m going to try to go slow and avoid the bumps so your head doesn’t start to hurt again.”