A Mother's Secret Page 6

  “I’m not sure.” Daniel took a swallow of the now-warm imported beer he’d been nursing for the past hour. “We haven’t told Malcolm I’m his father yet. Rebecca wants him to get to know me first.”

  “And you’re going along with this?” Joe sounded incredulous. “Aren’t you pissed?”

  “Pissed? Yeah. You could say that.” He frowned. “But I want to make it as easy on Malcolm as I can. I don’t want to have to bring him home sobbing because he misses his mom.”

  “No. God forbid.” Joe was quiet for a minute. “So what’s the deal? You’re just stopping by now and again?”

  “I took them out for pizza Sunday. He’s a funny kid. He has a lot more confidence than I ever had.” Thanks to Rebecca. Daniel had to admit as much, if only to himself. She was a good mother.

  He might have felt trapped back then, if she’d told him about her pregnancy, but his kid would still have had a good father, too. Daniel remembered too vividly his hurt and puzzlement when Vern canceled weekend visits or forgot to show up when he’d promised to. Maybe Vern had an excuse, if he’d found out Daniel wasn’t his kid after all. Daniel had been too young to even guess the truth.

  What he knew was he’d never let down any kid of his. Not then, not now.

  “Believing you weren’t a family man doesn’t seem like adequate reason not to tell you.”

  “It was more complicated than that. Her parents got divorced when she was eight or nine. I guess they had a bitter custody battle. She and her sister got yanked back and forth and hated it. She wanted Malcolm to be confident about where home was.”

  It was a minute before Joe said anything. Then, his voice was constrained. “Nadia and I have tried not to make it like that for Kaitlin, but it’s hard.”

  Daniel’s hand tightened on the bottle. “You’re saying Rebecca was right?”

  “Of course not. Just…don’t let your bitterness hurt Malcolm.”

  “I’m doing my best.”

  His best, he thought, not to wonder what it would have been like to be married to Rebecca, to see her body swell with pregnancy, to be present at his son’s birth and there as he grew up.

  As clearly as if she were there, Daniel heard Rebecca say, You didn’t want to be a father. We didn’t have any future. Had he been capable of trying as hard as Joe had to make a marriage work anyway?

  Remembering that smothering sense of panic he’d felt at the idea of spending the rest of his life with Rebecca or any other woman, Daniel wasn’t as sure as he wanted to be.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  REBECCA GLANCED AT THE MAN walking beside her down the trail before, in automatic mom-mode, checking to see how far ahead of them Malcolm had run. He’d been excited to go to the beach, even though, this being January, they had to bundle up in sweaters and jackets. The sun was out, but a chilly wind was blowing. A favorite of Rebecca’s because it was little-known, this was one of the many pocket beaches that dotted the shore south of Half Moon Bay. There wasn’t even a real parking lot, just enough room for three or four cars to pull off the Coast Highway.

  Daniel was being more patient than she had expected with this business of getting to know Malcolm. It had been almost an entire week since the pizza outing.

  Patient? Or was it that he’d been bored spending time with a four-year-old? She bristled at the thought. How could anyone, never mind Malcolm’s father, not immediately appreciate what a smart, funny, lovable kid he was?

  Oh, wait. She wanted Daniel to lose interest. Now. Before Malcolm could be hurt.

  She stifled a sigh before Daniel could hear it. No, he wasn’t bored yet. Patience was one of Daniel’s gifts. In business or seduction, he was able to lie in wait as deceptively and lethally as a big cat on the hunt. When she first met him, he had pursued her slowly, relentlessly and skillfully.

  No, either he’d thought his purpose would be served by letting her stew, or else he was just plain busy.

  He’d called Monday and suggested a Saturday outing. He apparently wouldn’t be down to El Granada all week, as he had another project in the planning stages and would be meeting with the architect and city officials in San Rafael.

  Today, he’d come by for her and Malcolm, a picnic already packed in a wicker basket. She only hoped the contents weren’t too gourmet. Preschoolers did not have eclectic tastes. Malcolm was suspicious even of jam that wasn’t strawberry.

  During the twenty-minute drive along the curving Coast Highway, they had made sporadic, falsely cheerful conversation. Daniel had, to his credit, been careful to fasten his seat belt before starting the car and had made a point of sticking well under the speed limit. He seemed to feel Malcolm’s penetrating gaze pinned on the speedometer. Annoyingly enough, her son wasn’t just learning to count to five, like most other kids his age. No, he had fixated on speed limit signs and seemed to have no trouble correlating those numbers with the numbers on the car speedometer.

  They’d parked in a turnoff on the bluff, joining only a couple of other cars, and started down the trail to the beach. Malcolm raced ahead.

  “Mal!” she called. “Wait up!”

  “But you’re going slow!” he yelled back.

  Rebecca heard a huffing sound from the man beside her and realized he’d laughed. The sound was almost rusty, as if he didn’t often. He was fully capable of smiling with devastating charm, but now that she thought about it she didn’t remember much laughter when they were together. He’d been a very…contained man. By the time they went their separate ways, she had realized how little she really knew him. It had been particularly foolish of her to fall in love with a man so unwilling to share his innermost self.

  All but dancing with impatience, Malcolm waited just until they caught up, then hurried ahead again. By the time Rebecca stepped off the hard-packed trail onto the gravelly beach, her son was already crouched and picking through the pebbles.

  “Look at this one, Mom!” he said excitedly, holding up a dark red stone, worn smooth by the water.

  Daniel inspected it. “I think that’s jasper. You have a sharp eye.”

  “Mom always just says they’re pretty. She doesn’t tell me their names.” Malcolm looked at him with respect.

  “I took some geology classes in college,” Daniel explained. “I like knowing how the earth was formed. Plus, I always wanted to be a builder, and it’s smart to understand the ground you’re excavating.”

  Her son looked crafty. “Do you have a bulldozer? I have a toy one, but I’d really like to ride on a real one.”

  Rebecca opened her mouth, but Daniel beat her to the punch. “We might be able to arrange that someday. With precautions. Heavy machinery isn’t safe for children.”

  “That would be great!” Future plan finalized, he asked, “Can I go look at the tide pools now, Mom?”

  “Yes, but remember…”

  “I can’t pick anything up,” he said with exasperation. “I know.” He darted ahead.

  There was that sound again. Rebecca turned to see the grin lingering on Daniel’s mouth.

  He caught her eye. “Easy to picture him as a teenager.”

  She huffed out a laugh of her own. “Some days, painfully easy.”

  They followed more slowly. With the tide well out, the rocky pools that interested Malcolm were a safe distance from the waves. Rebecca pointed to a sandy nook up against the cliff that would protect them from the cold wind and suggested they put down their blanket and lunch basket there before they continued toward the water.

  Daniel surprised her again by squatting beside Malcolm and studying the starfish and urchins and crabs that lived in the tide pools with an intentness to equal her son’s. She stood back watching them clamber over the rocks and discuss what they saw. Their camaraderie inspired an uncomfortable pang of jealousy. Malcolm didn’t even seem to notice that she wasn’t at his side. Daniel was apparently more knowledgeable and therefore captivating.

  She joined them when they walked down to the water’s edge, where Malcolm chased
the fingers of foam until, inevitably, he got caught and shrieked as the water poured over his feet.

  Rebecca sighed. “I should have made him take his shoes off.”

  “Some discomfort will teach him a lesson,” Daniel said unsympathetically.

  “Parents generally try to save their children from suffering unnecessarily,” Rebecca pointed out tartly.

  Malcolm squelched over, his face crumpling. “I don’t want my shoes to be wet, Mom.”

  “I know, sweetie. But you’d have cut your feet on the rocks if we’d taken them off earlier.”

  In the volatile way of a child, a moment later he was over his unhappiness and went back to chasing the receding waves until another one caught him. This time, he shrieked with laughter.

  “He’s a good kid,” Daniel said, surprising her.

  He was watching Malcolm, not looking at her. In running shoes, jeans and a bulky cable-knit sweater, he seemed younger today, his face more relaxed. The wind had disheveled his hair and he stood rocking back on his heels, his hands in his pockets.

  “I told you he was happy.” The minute she said it, Rebecca realized how he would interpret that.

  Daniel glanced at her, his expression cool. “Yes. You did.”

  “I didn’t mean that the way it sounded.”

  “Didn’t you?” he murmured.

  “No. I didn’t,” she snapped. “I meant just what I said. He’s a happy kid. Well-adjusted.”

  She couldn’t tell what Daniel was thinking, which further annoyed her. He simply turned, as if dismissing her, and went back to watching their son.

  Their son. She closed her eyes. Why couldn’t Malcolm still be her son alone?

  “Why did you take up teaching?” he asked, breaking the silence.

  She lifted a hand to hold back the hair the wind had whipped from her braid. “Partly because of the time off. Malcolm doesn’t have to be in day care nearly as much as he would if I didn’t have such long holiday breaks. Plus, my schedule isn’t erratic the way it would be if I were still with the Chamber. Remember how often I had to travel, or speak to groups in the evening.”

  “Yeah.” He was frowning now. “I can see that.”

  “I really do love teaching.” Well down the beach, a couple walked hand in hand at the water’s edge. Malcolm had stopped to watch sandpipers darting after the waves just as he’d done, although quicker to make their retreat. “Now I can’t imagine how I let myself get sidetracked after college. I think it’s what I was meant to do.”

  “What grade do you teach?”

  “This year, fifth. It’s a great age. They’re just starting to flirt with puberty—”

  “And each other.”

  She laughed. “And each other. Oh, so ineptly. But they’re also still children. They’re good readers, the math is advanced enough to be interesting, they’re open to exploring new stuff. This year I’ve extracted a video camera from the district and the kids are taking turns filming a news show. You wouldn’t believe how much more passionate they are about reading the newspapers!”

  “What about the shy ones?”

  “They enjoy being behind the camera. The kids consider that as cool as being the newscaster.”

  He merely nodded.

  After a minute, Rebecca asked, “What about you, Daniel? I gather business is strong?”

  “Can hardly keep up with demand.”

  “Are you still a workaholic?”

  “More so.” He flicked a glance at her. “You moderated my tendency.”

  “Really? I didn’t feel as if I had any influence on you whatsoever.” She’d hated knowing how little impact she had on him. Sometimes, when he was on the phone talking business and she interrupted for some reason, he’d give her this blank stare, as if he didn’t even remember who she was. Daniel Kane liked having a woman in his bed. He even enjoyed some stimulating discussion. Her best guess, there at the end, was that he was ready for a fresh viewpoint in those discussions, not to mention some new adventures in bed. Out with the old, in with the new. She had quite passionately not wanted to meet her replacement.

  He was quiet for a moment. “You had more than you thought.”

  Tempted to ask when he had ever done anything differently to please her, Rebecca kept her mouth shut. He was probably five girlfriends along. Did he even remember her particular quirks or wants?

  Instead she asked, “How’s your brother and nephew?”

  “Adam died just this winter. A stroke.”

  “But…he wasn’t old enough!”

  “Fifty-eight.” His gaze had become brooding and Rebecca doubted he saw Malcolm anymore. “It was hard on Joe.”

  “I can imagine.”

  “He’s remarried. His new wife is pregnant.” Still, he wasn’t looking at her. “I told Joe. I mean, about Malcolm.”

  She nodded. Now that his brother was gone, Joe was his only family. She hated to imagine what Joe had said about her.

  “He married his first wife because he was pregnant.”

  Slowly Rebecca turned to face him. “But the marriage didn’t last.”

  “No.”

  “Having a child together isn’t enough.”

  Frowning, Daniel said, “It seems to me we had other things going for us.”

  She’d thought so, too, once upon a time, when she fell in love. Before he lost interest.

  “Does it matter now?”

  “Probably not.” He shifted to watch Malcolm again, leaving her chilled. Had he dismissed her, just like that? But she saw that Malcolm was running toward them, and Daniel said, “Hey, buddy. What did you find?”

  “See? This rock sparks.” He frowned and sounded it out carefully. “Spark-el-s.”

  Daniel crouched again to look closely. “This one is quartz. The shiny bits look like stars, don’t they?”

  “Yeah!” Malcolm admired his find. He was soaked now to the knees.

  Rebecca looked down at their heads, close together, and felt another wrench in the chest. Their hair was exactly the same color, exactly the same texture. Even after four years, she knew what running her fingers through Daniel’s hair felt like, because of their son. Malcolm was so small next to his father, who was solidly build with those big shoulders. Right now, his jeans were stretched taut over the long muscles of his thighs. When he held something out to show Mal, all she saw was his hand, strong and competent. She remembered his touch, calloused but gentle.

  “I’m hungry,” Malcolm said.

  “Then what say we eat lunch?” Her voice sounded only the slightest bit ragged.

  They started up the beach, the four-year-old trudging rather than running ahead. His energy was winding down. Most days he did still take a nap.

  “You want a ride?” Rebecca asked.

  He stopped. “Yeah. I don’t like squishing.”

  She was about to bend to hoist him to her back when she saw Daniel standing silent and watching them. It cost her, but she found it in herself to be generous. “Maybe Daniel would give you a lift. He’s bigger and stronger than I am.”

  Malcolm turned and studied Daniel. “I guess that would be okay,” he finally agreed.

  Daniel squatted again, grabbed his son and swooped him up to ride on his shoulders. When he stood, Mal grabbed his dad’s hair. “You’re real tall!” he exclaimed in alarm.

  “And right now, you’re even taller.”

  “I am tall.” He still sounded shaky, but possibly interested in enjoying this experience, too.

  Daniel strode ahead, Rebecca trailing.

  “Lots taller than Mom,” she heard her son say with pleasure.

  Gee, how many ways could he find her wanting? And it was silly to get her feelings hurt, but she was feeling a little…vulnerable right now. She’d been so sure Mal would be terrified if a stranger swept him away for an overnight stay, but he was certainly adapting to Daniel at lightning speed. She couldn’t blame Daniel if he concluded after today that they could drop the pretense.

  Once they reach
ed their picnic basket, she spread the blanket and Daniel gently lowered Malcolm. She took off his soaking-wet shoes and socks and wrapped his feet in the old towel she’d brought just in case. Daniel laid out the food.

  Fortunately, he’d brought sandwich makings rather than sandwiches already put together. “I wasn’t sure what he’d like.”

  “Cheese,” she said, examining the various choices. “And you’ll like this French roll, won’t you, Mal?”

  “Cheese is my favorite,” he agreed. “You won’t put that green stuff on my roll, will you, Mom?”

  The “green stuff” was a pesto aioli, she decided with a sniff test. “Nope. Although I bet it’s yummy.”

  He didn’t actually want anything but the cheese on his sandwich, although he assured Daniel that he did eat lettuce and tomatoes and sometimes onion. He just didn’t want them today.

  Rebecca rolled her eyes. Daniel hid a smile.

  Daniel had also brought him a couple of boxes of apple juice and a selection of bottled water and various sodas for them. There were chips and luscious, fat, ginger cookies from a bakery. Rebecca heaped her own sandwich with vegetables, as well as turkey and cheese, the pesto aioli and a balsamic cream she drizzled on top.

  “Yum,” she said, showing it to Mal, who forced a smile.

  “That looks real good, Mom.”

  Daniel gave another rusty laugh. “Was that code for ‘yuck’?”

  Letting him see her amusement, she said gravely, “I’m afraid so. But I’ve convinced him it’s much nicer to pretend you can see the appeal of things other people like than to tell them what they’re eating or wearing is yucky.”

  “Aunt Nomi wears these real ugly pants,” Malcolm informed him. “But I just pretend she’s got on jeans like me.”

  “Yeah, they have flowers all over them,” Rebecca murmured. “Big flowers.”

  “I can see the temptation to say yuck.”

  “She thinks they’re pretty,” Mal said around a mouthful of roll and cheese.

  They discussed why people had different tastes and why some men wore turbans and some women covered their faces and how Malcolm wished he never had to put on shoes. It was obvious by the time he’d nibbled at a quarter of one of the giant cookies that he was getting sleepy.