Читать книгу: «Night Music»

One

“Mayday! Mayday! We’re going down.”

As sweat beaded his forehead and plastered shaggy hair to his rigid throat, Devlin O’Hara shivered. Muscles tensed. Scarred hands curled into fists. “We’re breaking up.” His tone turned guttural. His body arched, from a straining throat rose a desperate cry. “Fire! We have a fire.”

Then the night was still. In utter calm, a waning moon cast pale patterns over a rippled expanse of white. Silence deepened.

Then it began. The shivering, the hushed plea.

“Please.” Shivering became shudders. “Oh, God! Too high, too cold.” A body honed to muscle and sinew tensed.

“No!” Lurching upright, his eyes flickered open, ending a remembered nightmare. As he stared through the birth of dawn, a frozen mountain slope faded, becoming his childhood bedroom.

Throwing a soaked sheet aside, unmindful of his nakedness, he walked to the open window. Flinging the curtain aside, bathed in the nuance of daybreak, Devlin O’Hara watched as crimson streaked across the horizon, painting the bay in dark fire.

An autumn sunrise over the Chesapeake, one of his favorite memories, in his favorite place, his favorite season.

The house was tranquil, but its dignified repose would be short-lived. His family would be waking with the sun, eager for the adventure of a new day. The joyful adventure of coming together.

In growing numbers, with various names, but O’Haras still, they had come. And, for a while, they would be simply family. Mavis and Keegan asked nothing more of their unique brood than this time.

He hadn’t planned this visit. He hadn’t planned anything beyond making it through each minute of each day for months. Yet, on the eve of the appointed time, he found himself packing, then taking leave of many friends…and one nemesis.

But now he knew there was no escape. The deadly beauty and tragedy of the mountain went with him wherever he might go. Even here. This sanctuary of sanctuaries was no longer his.

Denali lived in his days and nights. And Joy died.

They always would.

Wearily, Devlin closed the curtain on a new day on the Chesapeake. He didn’t deserve this place or this family.

He shouldn’t have come.

“So, what do you think?” Leaning against the antique frame of leaded windows, Valentina O’Hara Courtenay stared through polished panes, pondering her own question.

Anyone but an O’Hara would have been awed by the house and the charm of the view. But to the five siblings gathered for the annual reunion, it was simply home. And, sometimes, sanctuary.

From the look of the man who walked the shore that lay beyond the lawn, it was the latter he needed. If he didn’t flee, he would be here two weeks. But could an autumn fortnight spent by the Chesapeake resolve the troubles plaguing Devlin?

“I don’t care what he says, he isn’t fine,” she declared, facing her younger sister. “He’s too quiet. Too alone.”

“Val, no one walks away from the loss of a friend unscathed,” Patience reminded gently. “Five months isn’t nearly long enough to console one who cares as deeply as Devlin.”

“Of course not,” Val conceded. “It’s natural he still grieves. But you can’t believe that’s all it is any more than I do.”

“No.” Patience sighed. “And it isn’t his hands. His next lady love should find the scars interesting more than ugly.”

“If there is one,” Val drawled as she prowled the room.

“There’s always a lady in Devlin’s life, Val.”

“Precisely.” Val leaped on the comment. “Until now.”

The point made, both fell silent. Restlessly, Valentina paced, only to pause before a wall of family portraits. Studying each, she named them in order, eldest to youngest. “Look at us. Devlin, Kieran, Tynan, Valentina, Patience, eternally sixteen.”

“Only in portraits.” Far into her third pregnancy, Patience felt much older than sixteen.

Valentina hardly heard. “No more than a year or two separates either of us from the next. We look and think alike, up to a point. With Devlin as our standard. We wanted to be like him. Beautiful Devlin, of the blackest hair, the bluest eyes.”

“Yet it was never as much that he was oldest, or how he looked, as his kindness and caring, and courage.” Patience smiled, remembering. “Able to leap tall buildings in a single bound.”

“Superman,” Valentina agreed fondly. “Bigger than life. His smile quicker, his passion greater, his heart most tender.”

“Now he rarely smiles,” Patience observed sadly. “If he feels anything, it doesn’t show.”

“Or the reverse?” Valentina ventured. “Is what he’s feeling so awful, he dares not let us see?”

“But we’re family, Val. If he’s hurting, we can help.”

“Can we?” Valentina turned from the window. “Perhaps the mountain took something from him only he can get back.”

Patience understood her sister’s logic, Devlin’s behavior was strange. They were accustomed to his solitary disappearances. But if there was ever trouble, he found a way to communicate, to reassure his family. With the crash, there had been only silence.

Months later, he’d written, saying he wouldn’t make the family gathering. Only then had he spoken of the crash and Joy.

Despite their worry about his uncharacteristic behavior, keeping a childhood rule that still guided their lives, no one questioned, no one interfered. No one understood.

Until he’d walked through the door two days before, weary, thin, dreadfully haggard, no one expected to see him. In a way, Patience thought, none of them had. The real Devlin bore little resemblance to the grim specter who haunted the shore.

“He’s like a stranger.” Devlin had moved from sight, but Valentina knew he hadn’t gone far. His reluctance to leave the house and grounds, or to mingle with his own, was patent. “I suspect he feels like a stranger even to himself.”

Patience sighed. “I don’t understand.”

“Hopefully we will soon.” Val grimaced. “I broke the rule.”

There were few rules within the family, and Patience knew instinctively which her sister had broken. “What have you done?”

“I’m interfering. I called Simon.”

Patience nodded. Who else would Val call? Simon McKinzie, commander of The Black Watch and the most powerful man in covert operations, could unearth the problem. “When will you know?”

“He promised by two.”

Patience glanced at a clock. “Less than five minutes.”

Valentina caught an uneven breath. “Was I wrong? None of us has ever intruded so blatantly before.”

“You weren’t wrong. Even though he needs someone, Devlin’s shut us out. No,” Patience repeated firmly. “You weren’t wrong.”

“He might hate me.”

Stretching out her hand, Patience waited until Valentina clasped it in her own. “Devlin could never hate you. He may not be happy with this at first, but in the end, he’ll thank you for having the wisdom to know when a rule should be broken. As I do.”

In concert, the clock boomed the hour, and within a cabinet housing instruments of modern technology, a fax machine chattered. Both women froze, hands clenched. It was only when the machine fell silent that their fingers drifted apart.

Valentina moved to the cabinet to take out the printed sheet. Turning, she came to Patience and, in deference to the concern she saw on her sister’s face, laid the document before her.

Patience read slowly, carefully, with the gleam of tears in her eyes before she was half through. When she finished, wordlessly, she returned the single sheet to Valentina.

Valentina absorbed each word. Contained here were the facts that had changed her brother into a man she didn’t know. As Patience had, she read slowly, carefully. Finally, with a heavy heart, she tucked away the report that changed all the rules. “I’m not sorry anymore. Now I know what to do.”

“How can I help?”

Valentina’s lips lifted in a smile. “You’ve done enough by listening and supporting my choice. But there is one more favor.”

“Anything.”

“If you would make my excuses, for the rest of the day.”

Patience nodded shrewdly. “You’re leaving the island.”

“As soon as possible.”

“Where will you go?”

With an elegant lift of her shoulders, Valentina asked, “Where would I go with a problem of this sort?”

“To Simon,” Patience supplied softly.

“Good afternoon, Simon.”

When the door to his private office opened unannounced, Simon McKinzie knew who his intruder would be. No one else among The Black Watch would dare such a bold act.

“Ahh. Mrs. Courtenay, I thought you had retired.” Leaning back in his chair, he glared at her. “What happened to knocking?”

“I have. And what happened to ‘Good afternoon’?”

“Perhaps it went the way of knocking before entering.”

Valentina had the grace to be truly contrite. “I’m sorry, but there’s a problem only you can help resolve.”

Simon took stock. Who among his agents was facing personal problems? Before retiring from The Watch, Valentina had possessed a magical radar when it came to sensing troubles within the organization. “What is it now?” he asked. “Or should I say who?”

“My brother.”

“By my count, you have three, missy.”

“It’s Devlin.”

“Devlin isn’t one of mine.” Though not from lack of trying, Simon admitted. Devlin O’Hara was perfect for The Watch. But beyond the rare assignment, he eluded its persuasive leader.

“He has been, on occasion.”

Simon had leaned back until his chair teetered on two legs. Now it banged down. “How the devil could you know that?”

Despite her worry, Val laughed. “Lucky guess.”

“Remind me not to play poker with you,” he grumbled.

“Consider yourself reminded.” Advancing to the desk, she leaned closer. “Will you help?”

“Sorry, missy, that’s impossible. In the first place…”

Valentina caught his hand in hers. Folding each finger to form the fist he would have made with each of five points, she held it tightly. Every agent knew the gesture. “Simon, there is no first place, or fifth. This is Devlin, the strongest and best of us.”

Simon nodded as she released his fist. “Denali.”

Of course he knew. He would have gathered the information himself. “Then you understand the problem.”

“I know the facts and ramifications,” he corrected. “I’m sure no one understands the problem, or the solution as you do.”

“Isn’t it obvious?”

“Ahh, in case it isn’t, why don’t you explain.”

“Who is Devlin?” She asked. “What is he to us?”

“Your brother, your hero and knight gallant.” Simon knew the direction she was taking this. But it would be interesting to see how far she would go.

“For as long as we can remember, there’s always been someone he could rescue, or care for, or protect. Now he believes he failed on Denali. As long as he does, he’ll never forgive himself.”

“So you would offer him a chance to redeem himself,” Simon suggested. “Hoping in redemption, he finds forgiveness.”

“That’s where you come in. He needs a damsel in distress.”

“One of my damsels.” Simon didn’t wait for an answer. “And no doubt you know exactly who.”

“Exactly. With your permission, of course.”

“Of course.” He watched her for a considering moment. “Does this damsel have a name?”

“Kate Gallagher.”

“What do you know about Kate, missy?”

“I met her once, outside your office.”

“Once?” Simon lifted a shaggy brow. “From that, you deduce she’s what your brother needs?”

Valentina didn’t hesitate. “I liked what I saw. Later, I heard she lost her partner. Now she’s troubled and nothing The Watch offered has helped. Devlin seems the logical solution.”

“For both of them?”

Valentina met his look calmly. “He won’t hurt her, Simon.”

“Has it occurred to you your brother might refuse to take part in this cockamamie plan, Valentina?”

“You give the okay on Kate. I’ll handle Devlin.”

“You’re that sure, are you?”

“Our brothers have never been capable of refusing Patience or me. Devlin’s different now, but he won’t say no.”

The venerable commander of The Black Watch was equally as sure. Just as he’d known when she marched into his office with that familiar determined look that no matter what she wanted, or what argument he offered, he would lose.

“So,” Valentina concluded. “If there’s nothing else…”

“Haven’t you overlooked something?”

Mission accomplished, she was ready to leave. “Have I?”

With a scrawl, he tore a sheet from a pad. “Kate’s address.”

“I know where she is, Simon.”

Crumpling the paper, he muttered, “Given that her location is a deep secret, it seems I have a leak.”

“There’s no leak. My source talks only to me.” A grin teased her mouth. “Unless you consider me the leak.”

“Never you, Valentina.” Drawing his thumb across a lighter, he touched flame to paper. When fire licked away letters spelling out Belle Terre, South Carolina, he dropped it in an empty trash can. “As usual, your visit has been…interesting.”

“My pleasure.”

“And mine.”

Val paused by the door. “The standing invitation still stands, should you find time to come to the shore.”

“I’ll think about it.”

“Positively, I hope.” With a wave, she was gone.

Into the quiet, Simon spoke thoughtfully, “Maybe I will go out to the bay. Renew old acquaintances. Lay some groundwork.”

The day was coming when he must choose his replacement. Given her intuition and with added maturity, Valentina O’Hara Courtenay would be the perfect choice. If she could succeed with Devlin in this, Simon hadn’t a doubt she could do anything.

Ravenel’s By The River was not just a grocery store, but also a meeting place for the citizenry of Belle Terre. Today, pleasant temperatures of autumn had brought shoppers out en masse. With music drifting about them, they traversed wide aisles, filling carts with an extraordinary array of wines, flowers, and groceries.

No one seemed to hurry. Some only nodded and smiled at other shoppers. But the majority stopped to chat, to gossip, to laugh, or to adjourn to the canopied balcony that served as a teahouse. There, with the river sliding by, in the shade of a centuries-old oak, they sipped tea, sherry, and even the ritual bourbon and branch water to the accompaniment of more gossip, more laughter.

Only Kate Gallagher seemed oblivious to the pleasant surroundings. Only she paid no homage to expected Southern customs as she moved through the music, gliding from one corridor to the next. Her head bent, her face veiled by a wealth of hair falling against her cheek, none who passed caught her eye. Some glanced her way. Others appeared inclined to speak. But as if the silvery veil were a wall innate courtesy must not breach, no one intruded.

Once upon a time Devlin O’Hara would have considered that aloof detachment a challenge. One look at the melancholy barely hidden in Kate’s distracted gaze, and it would have become his prevailing mission in life to make her world a better place. To make her smile, perhaps even laugh, as the others laughed.

But that was once upon a time. A time of innocence now and forever lost to him. And no matter what he’d promise Valentina, he wouldn’t interfere.

He’d learned that some things never heal, and the pain and guilt never eased. Perhaps for some, as for him, it shouldn’t.

If, as the cliché promised, the blind couldn’t lead the halt, who was he to play Galahad?

And if the question had an answer, it wasn’t one he wanted to face. Not now. Not yet. So it was that when she approached his loitering space, he turned away, determinedly immersing himself in deciding which brand of coffee he needn’t buy.

He sensed her faltering step rather than heard it. Something more than the rustle of her clothing, or the scent of sunlight and flowers, warned of her nearness. An inexplicable awareness sent an uncommon disquiet racing through him.

More to counter any feelings regarding Valentina’s latest lost lamb than an interest in the coffee he wouldn’t be drinking on a Belle Terre morning, he reached for a brightly labeled packet. Unexpectedly, their hands collided, but his a fraction behind. With a pilot’s instincts and reflexes, his fingers closed over hers, keeping the package from tumbling out of her grasp.

For a moment neither moved nor spoke. Devlin stared down at a mass of hair ranging from dark gold to the palest silver, and falling from a center part. Barely realizing he was holding his breath, he waited for her head to lift.

When she stirred, her unshielded gaze rising to his, her eyes were golden brown and fringed by dark lashes. Her look was remote, without emotion.

“Pardon me.” Her voice was low and restrained, as remote, as emotionless, as her gaze. Each spare word was without accent, and perfectly enunciated in the quiet tone of a woman apart. A woman going through the motions of her life, taking each moment as it came. Coping…only coping.