For His Son's Sake. Ellen Tanner MarshЧитать онлайн книгу.
of a man in control of his world, a man not used to being ignored. Kenzie made the conscious effort to keep her mouth closed so her jaw wouldn’t drop as she stared.
“Where have you been?” Ross demanded.
Angus lowered his head. “Sorry,” he mumbled. “I didn’t know I was late.”
His father folded his arms across his chest. Definitely not a conciliatory stance. “Then I guess you have no business coming down here by yourself.”
This time Kenzie’s jaw did drop. “Excuse me?” she blurted, astounded by his tone. “I’m confused as to who’s at fault here. Angus seems a little young to be allowed on the beach alone.”
“Does he?”
Was there a crack in that tough-guy veneer? Even though he’d shot the question back at her, Kenzie thought he suddenly sounded uncertain. She turned to the boy. “How old are you, Angus? Six? Seven?”
“I’ll be eight on Wednesday,” he told her proudly.
“There aren’t any lifeguards out here,” Kenzie said firmly. “And there’s usually a rip current running along the shore break.”
“Angus knows the rules.” She could almost feel the heat of the man’s glare. “He’s not to go near the water.”
But Kenzie could be tough too. “A seven-year-old should have an adult with him when he comes down to the beach, Mr.—”
“Calder. Ross Calder.”
He might not be too thrilled to have her lecturing him, but at least he was civil.
Kenzie reached out to shake the hand he extended. “I’m MacKenzie Daniels.”
Ouch! He’d squeezed too hard—deliberately, she wouldn’t doubt, as though wanting to let her know he was still in charge. She gritted her teeth to keep her smile from wavering. At the same time, she removed her hand slowly, resisting the urge to snatch it away. Not because he’d hurt her, but because of the way the contact between them had run like a physical jolt up her arm and through her body. His big hand had almost swallowed hers in a very masculine way.
But he was still a jerk. And too tough on his kid. Hopefully Mrs. Calder was nicer. “Here’s your kite, Angus.”
Angus took the handles from her. The kite, ignored, had landed in the sand behind them. “Thanks,” he said glumly.
“Keep practicing. You were doing great.”
“Was I?”
She resisted the urge to put her arms around him. To stick out her tongue at his father for being such a spoilsport. “Absolutely.”
“Will you help me tomorrow?”
“If I’m out this way, maybe. But I live down in Buxton.”
“Where’s that?”
“The town with the lighthouse. I just happened to be here today because I needed groceries.”
Avon had the only chain supermarket south of Nags Head. Every now and again Kenzie skipped the offerings at Buxton’s mom-and-pop grocery stores and drove the few miles to Avon to do her shopping.
“Okay. Maybe I’ll see you.” Angus was looking at her as though he was miserable. Why?
She gave his father a hard look. “Nice meeting you, Mr. Calder.”
“Likewise, Ms. Daniels.”
She watched them disappear over the dunes. So much for a sunbath. She was much too worked up to relax now. At the way Angus had changed the moment his father had shown up, like a dark cloud blocking out the sun.
And the way she had reacted to Ross Calder’s handshake. Instead of being furious at his unspoken message of superiority, she’d found herself reacting to it on a purely physical level.
Nuts.
Gathering up her things, she went back to the car.
She’d parked in one of the National Park Service turnouts that dotted the highway running south from Oregon Inlet to the end of Hatteras Island. The neighborhoods that made up the southernmost part of Avon ended here, where Cape Hatteras National Seashore parkland resumed. The boardwalk to the parking lot led past the last few cottages on the edge of town.
Angus had said he was staying in one of them. Kenzie scanned the decks for a sign of him, trying to look as if she wasn’t. But all of them were empty.
She sighed. Just as well. Even though something about that blue-eyed boy had touched her, she didn’t need to run into him again. Or his father, either, thank you very much.
Chapter Two
But Avon was a small town. Running into acquaintances was the rule, not the exception. Only, Kenzie didn’t expect to see Ross Calder and his son again quite so soon—like that very evening.
She had spent the afternoon inking her drawings and preparing them for mailing. Afterward she’d gone down to the dock behind her house to check on the minnow traps. They were filled with fish, including one or two good-sized spots and a croaker, but as usual there wasn’t enough for all the hungry mouths she had to feed. So she’d driven up to Avon to spend some of her precious cash at the bait-and-tackle store.
She was walking back to her truck when someone called her name. Shifting her packages to one hip, she turned. “Angus! What are you doing here?”
“Going to the movies.”
He was wearing a navy T-shirt with “England” written on it in red and white, khaki cargo shorts and high-topped black sneakers. She’d forgotten how cute he was. Or how good-looking his father was. Ross Calder was wearing khakis, too, and a denim shirt with rolled-up sleeves. He folded his tanned arms across his chest as he came around the car he’d just locked. The movie theater was right across the parking lot.
“Good evening, Ms. Daniels.”
“Hi.” Kenzie looked beyond him for Angus’s mother, but the two of them were alone.
Angus was hopping excitedly in front of her.
“What’s in the bag?”
“Angus,” his father warned.
“No, it’s okay,” Kenzie said quickly. “Minnows.”
The boy’s eyes widened. “Can I see?”
Obligingly she opened the container. As he leaned over it, she caught his father’s eye and smiled. Was there anything more endearing than a curious seven-year-old? Besides, it gave her an excuse to look at Ross, because he was certainly what you’d call easy on the eye.
Only, Ross didn’t return her smile. The expression on his rugged face was that of a man looking at a…a specimen under a microscope or something. It was a probing look, as though he was trying to figure out what made her tick.
“Are you going fishing with those?” Angus was obviously fascinated with the contents of the foam container.
“I’m going to feed them to my birds.”
“Wow!” he breathed. “What kind of birds eat minnows?”
“Shore birds, mostly. Like herons and egrets.”
Could those blue eyes get any wider? “Do you own a heron, Kenzie?”
She laughed and felt something wicked stirring inside her. Maybe because Ross Calder was standing there looking so impatient, as though letting Angus talk to her was the last thing he wanted. “Tell you what. If you’d like, and your father says okay, you can come over to my place tomorrow and see for yourself. I think you’ll be pretty impressed.”
Angus whirled. “Can we?”
“We?”
“I can’t