Ashley Summers - On Wings Of Love

“You don’t?” Thomas watched her spoon make another lap around the cup before she answered.

“No. Dad married Mother against his parents’ wishes. So there was very little communication between them. It’s ironic, really,” she said musingly. “That they inherited us, I mean. After our parents died, we lived with Grammy Rose, Mom’s mother, for three years. A lovely, loving woman... Then she died, and we were passed on to our paternal grandparents in Boston. None of us were very happy about the situation.”

Katy halted, chagrined at her loose tongue. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean for this to get so personal.”

“No! Don’t be sorry,” Thomas protested. He was aware of her discomfort, but his need to know the forces that had molded and shaped this beguiling woman had become incredibly strong. “Why weren’t you happy?” he asked urgently. “How old were you?”

“Seven.” Her voice thinned. “Our grandparents were...well, they were old. Even though they were only in their sixties, they were old, quite incapable of reorganizing their life-style around two little girls.”

“I see.” Suddenly, nebulously angry, Thomas hunched over his coffee mug. “What was their solution?”

“Boarding schools. The very best, of course. But we did spend the holidays at home.”

“That must have been tough,” he said, and for an instant she thought he had touched her, so warm and soft was his voice.

Tensing, she sipped her coffee and welcomed its scalding heat on her tongue. To her astonishment, she was battling an urge to pour out her entire life story.

She shrugged. “Not so tough. We had everything we needed.”

Except love, Thomas thought grimly. But instinct warned him against displaying his compassion. She might mistake it for pity. “You said two little girls,” he remembered. “Who was the other one?”

“Karin. My twin sister.”

“Good heavens, you mean there are two of you?” he asked with mock horror.

“No, not anymore.”

Thomas sobered. Her lashes swept down, but not before he caught a glimpse of the sadness sheening those darkened eyes. His voice roughened. “What happened?”

“She died last year.”

The starkness of her reply unsettled Katy as much as Thomas. Why on earth had she told him about Karin? It was too personal, too intimate! She shot to her feet with a glance at her watch.

“Gosh, look at the time! I’ve got to go—I’m meeting Patsy in a few minutes. She’s showing me some of the sights. Breakfast was wonderful, Thomas. Thank you.”

Thomas gave a courteous but absentminded response. He was thinking how much he’d like to show her the island. “Will you be home late?”

Her eyes narrowed.

Back off, Logan, Thomas castigated himself. She’s a paying guest. It’s none of your business when she comes in!

But he damn well wanted to make it his business.

“Well, that really doesn’t matter,” he went on briskly. “You have a key, so... Enjoy your day, Katy.”

“You, too,” she said, and then she was gone, leaving behind a strange new emptiness.

Katy found her way back to the harbor, and soon located her friend’s house and store. Patsy rushed out shrieking with delight at seeing her again. Although they kept in touch, it had been four years since Patsy left California. The women were college friends. A friendship that had lasted through thick and thin, Katy thought, hugging Patsy with the same wild fervor.

“How do you like the B&B I recommended?” Patsy asked as they started toward the house.

“It’s lovely, of course.”

“Oh, good.” Patsy gave her a sly glance. “And the host?”

“He’s lovely, too,” Katy said dryly. “It’s really odd that you forgot to mention him.”

“Um, well, you know. What do you think of him?”

“He seems nice enough,” Katy allowed. “Bossy, though.”

“Yeah, he is that. Comes from all those women chasing him around the islands,” Patsy said, nodding agreement with herself.

“Does that include you?”

“No. For some obscure reason, there’s never been any chemistry between that gorgeous thing and me. My hormones must be getting thin.” An eyebrow arched. “How are yours doing?”

“The last time I checked, my hormones were doing just fine. Are we going to stand here on the steps or can we go inside?”

Laughing, Patsy ushered her through the door. The house was small, just two rooms and a bath. One room to sleep, eat and cook in, the other to display her pottery wares and store supplies.

“This is why I didn’t invite you to stay with me,” she said. “I wanted to, believe me, but as you can see, we just don’t have any room.”

“We?”

“Yeah, we. Right now I’ve got a roommate. His name is Ken. That’s his picture on the mantel.”

Sighing, Patsy pushed at the lock of red hair falling across her face. She was freckled all over, and beautiful, Katy thought.

“He’s quite a hunk, Patsy,” she said as she studied the picture. “Is it serious?”

“Not yet. This is sort of a tryout period.” Patsy’s little nose wrinkled. “I mean, hey, you road test a new car, don’t you? Why not a new relationship? Might keep a person from making another mistake. Which, in my case, would make me a three-time loser,” she said with acerbic humor. Eyes bright, she cocked her head. “You, though, hold the record for short-lived marital harmony. I mean, really, Katy, nine months? What kind of a marriage was it, for heaven’s sake?”

“A bad one. He was a womanizer and control freak.” Katy’s mouth twisted wryly. “Sort of like that soap-opera role he’s playing now.” Using her bitter drollery as armor against remembered pain, she sketched a picture of the marriage she had ended five years ago. “Everyone seemed to know what kind of guy he was but me. Well, me and Karin, I should say. Even she was fooled by his charm. But he was an actor, and so handsome, so boyishly sweet—I was nuts about the man, even thought he was just being masterful when he insisted on supervising my every move.”

She gave a dry laugh. “But then, everyone loved Rhys! And Rhys loved everyone. At least he tried to. When I had the effrontery to object to his infidelities, be walked out.

“Anyway,” she concluded crisply, “I’m not keen to try it again, with tor without a road test.”

Dismissing the subject, Katy picked up one of the pottery pieces strewn around the room, a tall jug done in cream, rust, gold and brown, with an uneven band of blue. The colors formed a pattern that resembled an otherworldly landscape. “This is lovely, Patsy. You’ve really improved since you left California.”

“It’s island living. The serenity just sort of seeps into my hands when they’re on the wheel, and voilà!, I get a piece like that.” Patsy hesitated, then asked softly, “Katy? You still having problems? I mean, well, are you still scared of planes and flying?”

“Petrified,” Katy said simply. “Every time I remember that plane crash, I—I just can’t get past it, Patsy. Seeing it was so close to living it! I felt everything, everything!” She stopped and drew a shuddery breath. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to get so emotional. Look, I know we haven’t discussed Karin yet and I know she’s heavy on your mind. But I didn’t come here to cry on your shoulder, honey. I’m here to laugh and have fun. To forget, for a little while, anyway. Let’s just enjoy being together again. So, are you ready to show me the town?”

“That won’t take long,” Patsy said. “Eastsound is ten by fifteen. Blocks, that is. But there are lots of little shops, and the town itself is picturesque, especially this time of year with flowers blooming all over the place. Do you still like yellow roses? There are some gorgeous ones at Putte’s Café.”