On A Night Like This (The Callaways) (26 page)

She knew him better now. He wasn't just some romantic ideal. She connected with him on a lot of levels, understood his need to prove himself not only as a Callaway but also apart from the rest of them. She admired his loyalty to friends and family. She envied his courage, his zest for adventure… Saying goodbye was going to hurt.

She couldn't think about that now. Maybe later.

Aiden's lids fluttered open. He smiled at her. "What's on your mind?"

"Nothing," she lied.

"Really? You look a little more tense than you did earlier."

"I'm getting chilly. We should get dressed."

"You first," he said. "And take your time getting to your clothes. I like to watch."

She shook her head, a blush crossing her cheeks. "I am nowhere near as uninhibited as you."

"Seeing you now, that's hard to believe."

She sat up, crossing her arms in front of her breasts. "I got caught up in the moment."

"So did I."

"You're a bad influence."

"Or a good one," he suggested. "When is the last time you went skinny dipping?"

"Uh, let's see—never," she said.

"You were missing out."

"Apparently, I was. How many times have you swum here in the buff?"

"About three dozen," he said.

"And here I thought I was special." She felt a little disappointed by his answer.

He rolled on to his side and propped himself up on one elbow. Then he reached out to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear. His gaze was tender when he said, "You are special, Sara. I've never been here with anyone else. I've always been alone."

"I'm sure you could have had company if you wanted it."

"I never felt like sharing this spot – until now."

There was a seriousness in his eyes that made her heart skip a beat, but she didn't want to get ahead of herself, didn't want to read feelings into his words, feelings that might not be real. "I'm glad you shared the pool with me."

"I am, too. Now, go on, get dressed."

She got to her feet and walked across the grass to get her clothes. Aiden followed, and they quickly dressed.

"We should go back and get camp set up before it starts to get dark," Aiden said.

"And maybe open up that cooler. All this fresh air makes me hungry."

He laughed and stole a quick kiss. "You make me hungry, Sara, and I'm not talking about food."

She made a face at him. "Not a good line, Aiden."

"Really? I thought it was one of my better ones." He swung an arm around her shoulders and they headed down the trail.

When they reached their campsite, Aiden put up a small tent, while Sara sliced some cheese and put crackers on a plastic plate. She spread out a blanket and then sat down to enjoy her afternoon picnic. She couldn't remember feeling this relaxed in a very long time. Worries about work and her father nudged at the back of her brain, but she refused to start thinking about her problems now.

They spent the rest of the afternoon being lazy, talking about everything under the sun: movies, books, sports, politics and religion. They'd both gone to Catholic school, both spent time in church in their childhood and teenage years, but neither one of them had really kept up the practice of Sunday Mass.

"I do miss church sometimes," she told him. "Not so much for the formal teachings but for the sense of community, the familiar, reassuring repetitions that cut through the chaos of life. What about you?"

"I like that part of it, too. But the rest—I don't know. I'm not that big on organized religion, but don't tell anyone in my family I said that. I've got an uncle that's a priest and a second cousin that's a nun."

"I remember your uncle, or as we called him—Father Mike," she said with a warm smile. "He was the nicest priest at St. Andrew's. He used to play basketball at recess with you and your brothers."

"I think Uncle Mike was about thirty then," Aiden said. "He's seventeen years younger than my father, so he was almost closer in age to me than to my dad."

"He was kind and funny. When I went to confession, I was always hoping he was the one in the confessional."

"As if you ever had anything to confess," he said dryly.

"True." She paused. "I wonder what Father Mike has heard from your family over the years."

"I can't even imagine."

"It seems like it would be a burden to keep everyone's secrets."

"Probably. I never thought about it that."

"I wonder if my mom told him her secrets. It seems like she would have had to talk to someone. I can see my father locking it inside and throwing away the key. But my mom must have had moments of pain, flashes of memory, especially after I was born. How could she not relive those early years? Baby's first birthday, baby's first Christmas – wouldn't she have been thinking about little Stephen then?"

"That would be logical," he said.

"Now you sound like my father."

"Please don't ever say that again."

She smiled. "Don't worry, I would never compare the two of you. You're very, very different."

"Thank you."

"So when is the last time you saw Father Mike?"

"A long time ago," he answered.

"Do you think it might be good for you to talk to him about Kyle?" she asked.

"Possibly," he conceded. "I hadn't considered the idea, but he's a good man."

"A good man who can keep secrets." She paused for a moment. "Maybe he knows what secret your grandmother was talking to you about."

Aiden frowned at the reference to his grandmother. "I'm sure her rambling was just the result of old age and confusion."

"So you don't believe there are any skeletons in the Callaway closet?"

"After what you discovered in your basement the other day, I couldn't possibly make that claim, but as far as I know, there's no big, dark secret."

"I think I'm ready to talk to my father now. Well, not now, tomorrow will be fine."

"Good, I was afraid you were going to ask me to drive you back to San Francisco tonight."

"No way. The sun is going down, and I want to see those amazing stars you promised me." She also wanted to spend another night with Aiden, because it was quite possible it would be their last night together before reality returned to their lives.

While waiting for the stars to come out, they ate sandwiches and drank wine, laughed and talked and enjoyed each other's company. When twilight turned to night, they rolled on to their backs and stared up at the most beautiful starlit sky that Sara had ever seen.

Aiden showed her the constellations, telling her stories that were half fact, half myth. She was astonished by the depth of his knowledge and reminded again how much he appreciated the world around him, a world she'd barely noticed until now.

Just before midnight, they crawled into the tent, made love, and then fell asleep in each other's arms.

Sara woke up in the middle of the night. Aiden was tossing and turning, his breath coming fast, his legs kicking at the sleeping bag that covered them.

"Stop," he yelled.

"Aiden, it's okay. You're dreaming."

She put her hand on his chest. He shoved her away, his eyes flying open. He stared at her as if he'd never seen her before.

"You were dreaming," she repeated, trying to get him to wake up.

Awareness slowly seeped into his gaze. "Sara?"

She nodded. "It's me. We're camping, remember?"

He shoved a hand through his sweaty hair, his breathing starting to calm. "What did I say?"

"You yelled
stop
. Were you dreaming about the day of the fire again?"

"Yes. It's always the same. I'm running after Kyle, but I can't catch him. I'm yelling after him, but he just keeps going. And then everything goes black." Aiden let out a frustrated breath. "I want to see what's behind the curtain, but I always wake up before I can."

"Maybe there's nothing to see," she said gently. "You fell down a hill. You were knocked out. It's possible you just don't know anything else. And if that's the case, you will have to find a way to live with it. Kyle wouldn't want you to be haunted like this. He would want you to let go, to move forward. He was your best friend, Aiden. He wouldn't want you to be in this pain. And you know that's true, because if the positions were reversed, you wouldn't want him to hurt the way you're hurting now." She brushed the hair off his face and gave him a warm smile. "Life is going to go on. Someday the pain will ease."

Aiden pulled her back into his arms and whispered against her hair, "I'm glad you're here, Sara."

"Me, too."

She wished they could stay this way forever, but forever was probably only going to last until the morning.

Chapter Twenty

Sara poked her head out of the ten just after eight o'clock in the morning. Aiden was already up. He was fully dressed and sitting on a rock by the creek, staring into the ripples of water. His expression was contemplative, but he didn't look as agitated as he had the night before.

When he saw her, he smiled, and said, "Good morning, Sleepyhead."

She scrambled out of the tent and walked over to him. "I didn't hear you leave."

"You were sleeping so peacefully I didn't want to wake you." He paused. "Sorry about last night."

"You're not responsible for your nightmares. Although, you could be sorry about that big rock you set up the tent on. It was right in the middle of my back."

"Sorry, Princess. I'll do better next time."

"How are you feeling today?"

"I'm hungry," he grumbled.

"Me, too, but I think we're out of food. And don't try to talk me into any survivalist ideas. I'm not in the mood to eat a grasshopper or pretend ants are a good source of protein."

"They actually can be very nutritious."

"I'll take your word for it."

"Well, I was thinking more about pancakes. There's a great restaurant on the way back into town. It has the best blueberry pancakes you've ever had in your life."

She raised an eyebrow at his enthusiasm. "Sounds great. I hope it lives up to your hype."

"It will. Let's get packed up."

As Aiden took down the tent, she gathered the rest of their things together, feeling a little sad that their trip was over, but she couldn't hide out in the wilderness forever. Real life was waiting.

"Thanks for bringing me here," she told Aiden as they loaded up the truck. "I had a great time."

"Me, too," he said, smiling into her eyes. "I guess there was a country girl hiding under all that city soot."

"I guess so."

He gave her a kiss that felt a lot like goodbye, but she tried not to take it that way. They still had some time together. Goodbye would come soon enough.

Fifteen minutes after leaving the mountains, Aiden pulled into the parking lot of the pancake house. It was a Sunday morning and there was a good crowd, but they managed to snag a table without a wait.

After ordering her meal, Sara headed to the restroom. She hadn't been so happy to see a public restroom in her life. It was nice to wash her hands and face and run a brush through her hair. She didn't have any make-up with her, but she didn't really need it. There was a glow to her skin and a light in her eyes that she didn't recognize. She was used to seeing a weary reflection in the mirror, stressed eyes and mouth, pale skin, and tangles in her hair that came from twisting the strands while she worked out some long, thorny problem.

The woman she saw in the mirror now looked more like the girl she used to be, and that had a lot to do with Aiden. He was bringing back her old self, and she liked the change. Whether or not her old self would be able to survive in New York was another question.

When she returned to the table, there was coffee and juice waiting, as well as a huge stack of blueberry pancakes. Aiden had added some eggs to his pancake order, and their table was overflowing with food, but somehow they managed to finish it all.

"I just gained five pounds," she said, rubbing her very full stomach as she sat back in her seat. "But the pancakes were worth it."

"I told you they would be."

As the bus boy cleared the table, she felt the pressure of the ticking clock. "I need to get back to San Francisco, Aiden."

His smile faded, his expression turning serious. "I know. You need to speak to your dad. Are you ready?"

"Probably not, but it has to be done."

"You'll be okay," he said, a gleam of admiration in his eyes. "You have a core of strength inside of you, Sara. It got you through a cold childhood, your mother's death, your dad's distance, and it will get you through this."

"Thank you, Aiden." His confident words made her eyes tear up, and she lowered her gaze, not wanting him to see how he'd affected her. She couldn't be an emotional girl around him. She'd promised she wouldn't be. It was all supposed to light, casual, fun.

After paying the bill, they returned to Aiden's apartment. He wanted to grab a few more things to take back to the city. A moment later, his phone rang. "Jeanne," he muttered as he took the call.

While he was talking, he paced around the living room. At one point, he stopped by a side table, pulled out a note pad and jotted something down. Sara hoped he was finally getting some information, but she couldn't tell. His side of the conversation was very abbreviated. She heard him mention a couple of names like Sandra Ellingston and Becky Saunders. Hopefully, Jeanne had discovered what kind of connection the women had had with Kyle.

"Thanks," Aiden said finally, and then closed his phone. His jaw was tight, his eyes a flinty blue. He met her questioning gaze and said, "Sandra Ellingston is a doctor here in town. She's in a long-term relationship with a woman, so there's no way she and Kyle were having an affair."

"Oh, well, I guess that's good news." She wondered why he didn't look happier.

"Is it good? He was seeing a doctor for something."

"It could have been as simple as a flu shot. What's her specialty?"

"She's an ear, nose and throat doctor," he said.

"Well, that doesn't sound so serious. Maybe he had allergies."

"I never heard him mention any. But what's also interesting is that Becky Saunders is a nurse."