Family Matters (18 page)

He sat listening to his father and Bren trying to outtalk each other and watching as the boys all looked on.

“That one idea I had a few years ago, to modify all the local highway signs, just didn't work out,” Bren was saying. He sighed. “Too bad. We could've helped all the off-the-beaten-track towns in the state a lot with that. Then I was taking the idea to Washington.”

“Too global,” Matt's father said, brushing the idea aside. “Too much chance for government interference in the profits. Now, that park sounds like a great venture.” Matt could nearly see the dollar signs in his eyes. “Wish I had my checkbook here so I could drop a few thousand on you, MacBride, but I only carry credit cards.” He shook his head. “I'm good for it, though—Matt'll vouch for me, won't you, boy? Hey, as a
matter of fact, why don't you float me a loan so I can help these people out?”

“Sorry, I haven't got an extra dime.” Matt stabbed his baked potato with the steak knife. “In fact,” he added, “I wasn't expecting this fancy lunch. Since you've got the credit, how about springing for the bill?”

His father turned almost as white as the potato. Matt could see his mind working, like a witness calculating whether or not to lie under oath. Finally, his father muttered, “Stretched to the max on the cards right now, I'm afraid.”

“Uh-huh.” Matt shoved a piece of steak into his mouth to keep from saying anything else.
What a con.

Abruptly, he stopped chewing.

That was it.

His father
was
a con artist. An opportunist. A man only out for himself. Matt had finally gotten that message. But Bren…

Brendan MacBride wasn't anything like that. He never had been. Even that night at Bill's Griddle and Grill, when he'd acted like mayor of Lakeside, he'd simply been gregarious and friendly—and a big hit with the locals.

Kerry had been right about seeing things from a new perspective. Kerry was always right, it seemed.

She'd been on the mark about her uncle, too. He wasn't a crook or a con. A visionary, maybe. A dreamer, for sure. He was a man who wanted to help others, like Kerry did. A man with ideas as creative as Kerry's artwork.

And, most of all, with a good heart.

There seemed to be quite a few of those in the crazy MacBride clan.

Kerry looked around her, taking in the crowd, the colors, the laughter and shouts, the smell of popcorn in the air.

In the past two weeks, everything had come together for their grand opening. Today, all the volunteers had shown up early to man their stations, the boys had behaved reasonably well so far, and J.J. couldn't have offered more help if he'd taken over the running of the entire park himself.

Even Uncle Bren appeared at the designated time, decked out in a top hat and tails.

“He's a fine figure, isn't he, Kerry Anne?” Gran asked, looking on proudly as he promenaded down the center of the pier, Olivia on his arm.

“That he is,” she agreed.

“Olivia thinks so, too.”

“I'd say you're right about that.”

“A shame that boy of hers didn't come back for the celebration.” Gran looked at her from under her eyelashes.

Kerry kept her mouth shut. In the month since Matt had left, she'd heard a lot of comments like that from Gran. And from everyone else. She tried not to think of him, and managed well—for all of five minutes every hour.

No matter which way she responded now—either by condemning Matt or making excuses for him—she would lose in
the conversation. She simply smiled, waved farewell to Gran and continued along the pier.

At the shooting range, Brody offered a demonstration of his skill to anyone who would stop and watch him. He seemed not to notice the small group of boys who stood waiting to take their turns. When he finally looked her way, she raised her brows to hairline level and tilted her head so emphatically, she would have sworn she'd heard a vertebrae crack. He nodded, looking crestfallen, and turned to accept the boys' tickets.

Shaking her head, she walked away.

At the ringtoss, she found Colin surrounded by teenage girls. A couple of them seemed to have gotten the hang of the game and squealed with delight when they each hit their target. The rest were more interested in flirting with Colin. They halfheartedly flung their plastic rings toward the bottles then whirled to face him, as if he might have disappeared during the millisecond of time their gazes had been diverted.

She winked at Colin, who grinned back at her. The girls now pivoted in her direction. When she gave them a cheerful wave, they glowered as if she were their stiffest competition and then edged closer to Colin.

Stifling a laugh, she moved on.

 

R
AINBOW'S
E
ND OVERFLOWED
with people. Somehow, Matt wasn't a bit taken aback by the sight.

He worked his way through the throng, searching for a feisty redhead with a crooked-tooth smile. And, when he did find her, she'd probably come with bodyguards—all the MacBride males and J.J. with, no doubt, Maeve MacBride thrown in. He'd never get to talk to her alone in this crowd.

Then, to his amusement, he spotted a familiar face in an unfamiliar getup. Bren wore a top hat and tails and even
sported a flower in his lapel. He looked like a cross between a magician and the ringleader at a circus.

He also appeared made for the part the amusement park owners had elected for him to play. He'd embellished the role with a heavy Irish brogue that seemed to hold the women, young and old alike, entranced.

For the first time since he'd met the guy, Matt actually found himself wanting to see Brendan MacBride. He stepped forward and succeeded in getting the older man's attention.

To his credit, Bren's wide grin looked genuine. He clapped Matt on the shoulder. “Welcome back, lad. Grand to see you here again.”

“Thanks, Bren. Good to see you, too.” And he meant it. He leaned closer and said, “Listen, I want to find Kerry and talk to her alone. I've got an idea, but I need your help.”

Bren winked. “Well, if it's a tricky maneuver you're wanting, you know I'm just the man to get it done.”

Matt laughed. “I'm counting on that.”

 

K
ERRY MOVED TO ONE SIDE
of the pier and stared into the water. Everyone was so pleased with the success they'd had in getting the amusement park up and running. So was she. She wanted that glow of happiness over their accomplishment to last.

Yet her happiness was dimmed by the knowledge that Matt had left, and by the memory of how they had parted. She had tried not to focus on that, had tried not to recall anything about Matt Lawrence. But other than the renovations at the park, it seemed all she could think about was Matt.

All she could envision was Matt.

Even a few minutes ago, she had sworn she'd seen him coming through the entrance to the park. But then, she'd been seeing him all day long—albeit in complete strangers, with
the wide sweep of one man's shoulders or the toss of another one's head.

“Kerry, girl, I've been searching all over for you.”

For once, she welcomed the sound of worry in Uncle Bren's voice. A nice, exciting, complicated problem that he couldn't handle and only she could—that was exactly what she needed to distract her.

No. To her amazement, she realized that was what she needed,
period.

It suddenly occurred to her that she hadn't given a thought to her fellowship in weeks. Didn't care that she'd missed the trip to Europe. Wasn't sad about giving all of that up.

The truth of these realizations made her gasp in stunned surprise.

She belonged here, taking care of her family.

So she'd better get to it.

She hugged Uncle Bren and tried unsuccessfully to swallow her gleeful grin. “What's wrong?”

He frowned, looking puzzled, then hugged her back and said, “Big trouble. One of the customers at the Ferris wheel wants his money back, says the ride's not to his liking.”

“What?” Well, she'd wanted a problem and now she had one. She grabbed his arm and hustled him into motion. “What's wrong with the wheel?”

“He won't say.”

“He'll have to.” She trotted faster, pulling him along with her. “We can't have someone making unfounded accusations about the park.” Unfounded or not, any word of something wrong with one of the rides could be their downfall—a disaster for the park and the end of everyone's dreams. She couldn't let that happen.

They worked their way through the crowd on the pier and at last reached the Ferris wheel.

“Where is he, Uncle Bren?”

“I don't know. I left him right there by Carl.”

A line of people waited at the gate in the fence surrounding the ride. Carl was busy accepting tickets, helping passengers into a swinging car, then advancing the wheel so the next group could climb aboard.

Kerry sidled up to him. “Carl,” she murmured, “Uncle Bren said someone had a problem with the ride?”

“Yeah.” Carl nodded. “He's still on, should be coming down with the next group or two.”

She nodded grimly. “I'll wait and talk to him.”

“Sure thing. Hang on a minute.” He ushered a young girl and an older woman into their seats.

She stood back, watching as the next car swooped slowly toward the ground. A young couple alighted, and a grandmother and two small children took their place.

Yet another car moved downward and came to a rest.

When she saw its occupant, Kerry caught her breath.

Matt.

His hair was tousled by the wind, giving him a rakish look she'd never seen before. He looked at her without smiling. When Carl unhooked the safety bar, Matt stayed in his seat.

Her heart skipped a beat. Her legs turned to the consistency of the cotton candy being sold a few yards away.

“You're holding up traffic,” Matt said.

She rolled her eyes. “Don't tell me. Let me guess. You've got friends in the traffic department, too.”

He laughed and held out his hand.

She looked from Uncle Bren, grinning at her from the end of the long line still waiting to board, to Carl, standing at smiling attention beside her. Finally, she looked back at Matt.

Her heart skipped again. She would have teased him, let
him wonder whether she'd meet him halfway, if not for the touch of uncertainty suddenly shadowing his eyes.

When she took his hand, his warm fingers wrapped around hers. She put one foot on the floor of the car, and he helped her in beside him.

Immediately, Carl locked the safety bar and pushed the lever to sweep them upward. Kerry stared at the ground, unsure what to say, as their car advanced. After a while, she couldn't stand the suspense. “What are you doing here?”

“Getting into position.”

She narrowed her eyes. “What exactly does that mean?”

He waved a hand and, as if by magic, their car floated to a stop at the very top of the Ferris wheel. And stayed there. “I wanted to get you alone.”

A tiny shiver ran through her. “Why?”

“Because we need to talk.”

“I thought we'd done that. Or at least, I had.”

“That's the problem. You never allowed me time for cross-examination.”

“What? I most certainly—”

“Shh.” He rested his finger against her lips. “Please don't interrupt when I'm trying to apologize.”

She clamped her jaw and stared at him.

He took her hands in his. “Kerry, I
am
sorry. I hope you'll be willing to hear me out.” He glanced down, ran his thumb back and forth over her knuckles, squeezed her fingers. Then he looked up again. “So far, so good?”

“A B-minus. Maybe.” She bit her lip to keep from smiling.

“You will listen, then? Even if we get off this wheel and go somewhere else to talk?”

Below them, a large group of people stared up at their motionless car. She nodded at Matt. “We'd better let them start this ride again before there's a riot.”

He leaned over and waved to Carl and Uncle Bren.

Slowly, the wheel began to turn, sweeping nonstop full circle, bringing them to a rest at the platform on the ground.

People stared at them curiously as they alighted.

A small boy took his cotton candy away from his blue-stained mouth and muttered reproachfully, “Mama says it's not fair if you don't take turns.”

“That's true, lad,” Matt told him. “Sorry for holding you up.”

Kerry swallowed a smile.

They moved toward the edge of the pier and one of the conveniently placed benches her volunteers had installed only the day before. The seat gave them an unobstructed view of the lake.

She stared out over the water, its surface brilliantly lit by the sun.

“Kerry,” he began, “you were right—you
are
right—about moving forward and not getting stuck in what's happened before. About people setting their own destinies. I couldn't see that then, but I do see it now.” He laughed. “Thanks to your Uncle Bren and the rest of your protectors.”

She whipped her head in his direction. “What do you mean?”

“You didn't hear about their visit to me last week?”

“In Chicago?” Her voice squeaked in surprise. “You mean, Uncle Bren and the boys?”

He nodded. “And J.J.”

“Oh, no.” She exhaled heavily, feeling the rush of heat to her cheeks and knowing her face must be flaming. This was worse than Gran setting her up for a date! “So
that's
where they all disappeared to. I had no idea. I'm sorry.”

“Don't be. Their actions show they care about you, just as you care about them. Besides, it might have taken me a lot
longer to come to terms with things, if not for them and my father showing up.”

“Your
father?
” She shook her head in amazement. “That must have been some party.”

“It was. Only I wasn't in much of a partying mood and hadn't sent out any invitations.”

“You mean they all just appeared on your doorstep? At the same time?”

“Almost.” He laughed. “And as I say, it was a good thing. I learned a lot that day.”

She raised her brows but said nothing.

“I learned the only real con artist at that party was the one I'm ashamed to admit I'm related to. But I've finally learned to let some things go.”

“That sounds wonderful, Matt.” She hesitated, but in the face of his admission, she couldn't be anything less than honest with him. “And it sounds like you were ahead of me. For a teacher, I still had a lot to learn. I only came to terms with the last of it this morning.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, first of all,” she began slowly, “I'm not missing the trip to Europe a bit. I'd have loved going, of course, and maybe I will someday. On my own. But you were right. The fellowship isn't what's most important to me, isn't what's going to make me feel successful. My students will—they already have. I think I'm meant to be a teacher.”

“I could have told you that. I could hear it in your voice and see it on your face every time you talked about any of your students.”

Nodding, she said, “Then it's a good thing I've finally realized it, too. As for the second item I've come to terms with…” This wasn't easy to admit, even to herself, but she had to share it with Matt. “It hit me a few days ago that, deep down, through my entire life, I resented becoming the
caretaker for my family. I believed I had no choice, that I'd been forced into it by circumstances. But now, I know that's not true.”

“Let me guess. It's somehow connected to that I'll-handle-it-all attitude of yours.”

She laughed. “Yes, in a way. I did feel a big sense of responsibility. I can't deny it. But now I know it was much more than that. You were right there, too—my family
is
my obsession, but in the best of ways. I took care of Colin and Brody and did what I could for my older brothers and Gran and Grandpa because I wanted to. Because I loved them.”

“Isn't that the best reason of all?”

“Yes, it is.” She looked away for a moment, then brought her gaze back to Matt's. “But I have to confess, when I'm away from here, in Chicago, I'm lost without them all. I probably let my students become my substitute family.”