One in a Million (32 page)

“
How are you going to explain the earthquake in
your report?" Jack asked several hours later as he
sat on a corner of Nash's temporary desk in the
San Francisco
office.

Nash leaned back in his chair. "Sometimes we
get lucky. That's all it was."

“
It was more than that," his boss said. "Before
you arrived, they'd killed two people. You put a stop
to that. You're good at what you do."

“Thanks."
Jack stood up. "Either I was wrong about you
burning out or you got what you needed from your
vacation. You're welcome to come back anytime
you'd like." He grinned. "Is tomorrow too soon?" Work. Nash's refuge. Was he ready to return so quickly?

“Let me get back to you on that," he said.

Jack raised his dark eyebrows. "You sure about
that?"
Nash nodded. "I'll finish my report and see you
on my way out."

“Fair enough."
He left and Nash turned his attention to the com
puter screen. But instead of entering his report, he
found himself thinking about what had happened
that morning. How a 4.2 earthquake had saved fif
teen hostages. As he'd told Jack, it had been little more than dumb luck. As always, there were circumstances out of everyone's control. Even his.

He placed his fingers on the keyboard, then
dropped his hands back onto the desk. Well, hell.
What do you know, he thought grimly. He couldn't
control the world. If he were honest with himself,
he might admit he couldn't control much of any
thing. Life happened, and he didn't get to decide
which way it was going to go. He'd never been able
to decide. No matter what he wanted or expected or
needed, life had its own plan and didn't consult with
him.

Today he'd gotten lucky. Two years ago, he
hadn't.

Nash rose and crossed to the window. He stared out at the skyline of the city, but instead of seeing
the tall buildings, he saw the bomb explosion that
had killed his wife.

He hadn't known. No one had known. Tina had
acted impulsively. He hadn't killed her. He'd never
been responsible. Maybe he'd never believed he
was. Maybe wallowing in guilt over not stopping
her death had been easier than facing the truth—he
felt guilty because he'd never loved her.

He should never have married her. He saw that
now. Maybe he'd always known that, too. But he'd
been in his late twenties. It had been time for him
to get married, settle down. She'd been there and
she'd wanted him. He'd been flattered. When she'd
suggested making things permanent, he couldn't
think of a reason to say no. He cared about her, they
got along. He hadn't known what love felt like. He
hadn't known the possibilities.

But after a few months, he'd seen that they’d made a mistake. He'd tried to talk to Tina, but she'd
refused to admit there was anything wrong. After a
night of fighting, they'd gone to work and she'd
been killed.

She'd deserved to be loved. Everyone did. Including him.

Nash stiffened. Had he been the only one living
out a part, or had Tina, too, been going through the
motions? He would never know. He couldn't go
back and make things right with her. But he could
make the future better. He could let go of what had
happened. He could learn from his mistakes. He
could risk living again. He could risk love and be
longing or he could continue to live on the outside, always looking in, never connecting.

One way was safe, one was guaranteed to be com
plicated and messy. What did he want? And what
was he willing to risk to get it? The twins sat on the edge of the bed and watched
while she packed up Nash's clothes. According to
the news, the hostage situation had ended that morn
ing. Stephanie had been half expecting to get a
phone call, but when noon came and went without a word, she accepted the fact that he was gone for
ever.

Reminding herself that she'd been the one to say
he didn't have to come back wasn't making her feel
any better. Nor were the boys' long faces.

Jason swung his feet back and forth, clunking his
heels against the pedestal of the sleigh bed. "But
Nash likes being here," he said mournfully.

“
I know he had a good time," she said as she
folded shirts and stacked them together. "You're
supposed to enjoy your vacation."
Adam didn't speak. Instead he stared at her with
eyes full of hurt.

Her own control was already more than a little
shaky. It wouldn't take much to push her over the
edge. She tried to smile.

“
We'll be fine," she told the boys.
"It's summer,
so there's no school. Isn't that a good thing?"
They both nodded without a lot of enthusiasm.
She knew how they felt. In less than a week, the
B&B would be filled. She would be running around
like a crazy person. But the thought of paying guests
and plenty of work didn't ease the sharp pain in her
chest. She felt as if her entire world had been shat
tered.

No more relationships, she vowed silently. She
and the boys couldn't handle it. She'd gone and
fallen in love with the first guy she'd slept with since
Marty's death. Her sons were missing Nash, as well.
If one man could mess up her life in just a couple
of weeks, what would happen if she actually risked dating?
It wouldn't be the same, a small voice whispered.
She sighed, knowing the words were true. She'd
fallen in love with Nash. It didn't matter who she
dated. He'd claimed her heart and it would be a long
time before she was able to offer it to someone else
again.

She dropped the shirts into the open suitcase, then faced the twins.

“
I can't believe it's barely the first week of sum
mer and you two have long faces," she said.

“
Brett says he's not coming out of his room,"
Jason told her.

“
I know. But you know what? I have a great idea
that's going to make us all feel better." Neither twin looked convinced. She didn't feel
convinced, either, but she was going to pretend to
be fine—for their sake. Tonight, like last night, she
would lie awake, missing Nash, longing for him,
wishing it could have been different. But during the
day, she would keep it all together.

“
We're going to the pool," she said and waited
for the cheers.

“
Okay," Jason muttered.

Adam simply slid off the bed and walked out of
the room.

Stephanie stepped into the hall and crossed to the bottom of the stairs. "Brett, get your swimsuit," she
yelled. "We're going to the pool. And yes, you have
to go."
Vivian opened her door.
"Is
everything all
right?" she asked kindly. "The boys seem very
quiet today."

“They're missing Nash," Stephanie admitted. "I
thought hanging out at the pool with their friends
would help." Vivian's dark eyes turned knowing. "Will it help you?"

“
I'm a little old to be healed by water sports," she said, determined to keep her tone light. "But
it's always fun to get out." She waited for Vivian to ask more questions, but
Nash's mother simply smiled. "Do you mind if
Howard and I tag along? We're enjoying our time
with the boys."
Stephanie hesitated. The last thing she needed
was for her sons to bond with more people who were
leaving. But it would be rude to say no. Besides, on
a purely selfish level, she liked hanging around with
Nash's folks. Not only did they remind her a little
of him, they were good people whose company she enjoyed.

“
You're more than welcome," she said. "Just be
warned that it gets pretty noisy."

“
No problem. Give us five minutes to get ready."
The Glenwood community pool complex was as
crowded and loud as Stephanie had imagined it
would be. There were actually three pools—a shal
low one for children under the age of six, a six-lane
lap pool and a massive round pool that dated back
to the fifties when a rich newspaper baron had
moved to town and donated the land and money for
the structure. Over the years, the main pool had been refurbished, but the original shape had never been changed.

Stephanie led her group to a place in the shade.
Most of the older kids and teenagers congregated on
the cement border of the pool, while the families
took up residence on the grassy slope leading to the
video-game hut and snack bar. She spread out tow
els, double-checked that the boys had been covered
in sun block, then gave them the okay to head for
the water.

She promised Vivian and Howard that she would return shortly, then made her way to one of the half-
dozen lifeguards on duty. There she gave the names
and ages of her three boys, pointed them out and
confirmed they had each attended swimming classes
and were strong swimmers.

She was about to return to Nash's parents when
someone tapped her on the shoulder. She turned and
saw Elizabeth Haynes.

“
I didn't know you were coming to the pool to
day," she said with a smile. "There's a group of us
here."
Elizabeth
laughed. "I suppose we always
travel in groups, don't we? Have you heard from
Nash?"
As several of the Haynes brothers had still been
around when Nash had left, word of his assignment
had spread quickly. That morning she'd received a couple of calls asking for updates. She wasn't sure
why anyone in his family thought he would stay in
touch and the reminder that he hadn't didn't make
her feel any better. Still, they were nice people who
weren't responsible for her broken heart and she did
her best to be polite.

“
I saw on the news that the hostage situation
ended successfully," she said. "But other than that
I don't know anything."
Elizabeth
smiled. "I'm sure he'll be back
shortly."
Stephanie nodded, even though she doubted she would ever see him again. Oh, they might run into
each other sometime when he was out visiting fam
ily or here for the war games, but by the time that
happened she intended to be well over him. Which
meant she shouldn't plan on crossing paths with him
for about twenty-five years.

“
Are Kevin and Haley with you?" Stephanie
asked. "Vivian and Howard have braved the pool."
She pointed up to where they'd placed their tow
els.
Elizabeth
glanced toward them and waved.

“
Let me go tell the others," she said. "We'll join
you." Stephanie couldn't protest—not without sounding rude. And it wasn't that she didn't like the Haynes
family—it was just that they reminded her too much
of Nash.

It was only for one afternoon, she told herself as
she returned to Vivian and Howard and prepared for the onslaught. She could survive that. Tonight, when
she was alone, she would give in to the tears that
hovered right beneath the surface of her self-control. Eventually the raw edge of the pain would dull into something bearable.