That’s what she would call this attraction that seemed to seethe and eddy around them like the frothy waves on the sand.
“I think I’ll go back in the water while I have the chance,” she said, escaping the currents tugging between them to head to her own boogie board. “Do you still want to take off about noon?”
“What is that, about an hour and a half? Will that give you enough time?”
“Yes. I’ll swim for a minute and then take the girls over to their hula lesson. We’ll meet you at our cabana after we clean off.”
“Deal.”
He grabbed his own board and headed for deeper waters while she waded toward the others.
* * *
“EVERY TIME YOU turn a bend in the road, the view becomes more breathtaking. How is that even possible?”
Shane shifted his gaze from driving for just an instant, enjoying Megan’s wide-eyed excitement immensely. The craggy, raw green mountains and stunning blue sea seemed even more spectacular when viewed from her perspective.
“I’d forgotten how beautiful it was,” he said. “It’s the Garden Island. I’ve been to Oahu, Maui and Hawaii, and I think I’d have to say I still like Kauai best. If I had to picture the Garden of Eden, this would be the place.”
“I love the flowers most,” Sarah announced.
“I liked the waterfall. It was huge,” Grace said. In the rearview mirror, he saw her hide a yawn after she spoke.
Both girls looked tired, probably still struggling a little with the time change.
“Chicago in January seems like another planet right now. It’s tough to think about returning to below-zero temperatures and bitter winds.”
He had enjoyed the last few hours with them and hated thinking this magical time had to end.
“Hey, Shane, is that a geyser?”
He looked down where water shot high through huge lava rocks. “No. That’s called a puhi, or blowhole, like what whales have. Water comes up through a lava tube then shoots out. Pretty cool, isn’t it? This one is called Spouting Horn.”
He pulled into an overlook and they watched it for a while. Okay, if he were honest with himself, Megan and her daughters watched the blowhole. He mostly watched them.
They, not the beauty of the island, were the real reason he didn’t want to return to Chicago. He would treasure the memory of their few hours together always. He loved being with them—Grace with her quiet courage and strength, Sarah with her energy and her inquisitive mind, and Megan, who drew him to her like the moon directing the tides.
All of them were entwining their way around his heart.
“I came here when I was a kid and heard a story about this place. I guess there’s some Hawaiian legend about a giant lizard that used to patrol this area and was trapped in the lava tube. According to the legend, that’s her breath coming out, and that noise you hear as the water rushes through is her roar.”
He wasn’t sure where that memory came from, but the girls seemed fascinated by it.
“How old were you when you came here before?” Megan asked, while Sarah and Grace were busy listening for the giant lizard.
“Around eleven or twelve, I think. Cara would have been eight, maybe. Our dad and his third wife brought us here.”
“You must have had fun,” she said cautiously.
His laugh was rough as memories he’d submerged a long time ago shot to the surface like water through that blowhole. “Not really. They didn’t want us along.”
“I’m sure that’s not true.”
“It was another of the endless custody battles in the war my parents waged after their divorce. Dad and Gina had already made arrangements to come here by themselves over the holidays. Then Mom reminded him a few weeks before Christmas break that this was his year to have us for Christmas. She’d already made her own plans that didn’t include us, and she wasn’t going to change them.”
He’d really wanted to like Gina, but it had been tough when she’d made snide comments throughout the trip about having to bring them along.
He could hear her and his father fighting about it every night of the trip. At least they waited until they thought he and Cara were asleep.
“It wasn’t the most pleasant vacation of my life. I was old enough to feel the tension between them and to know we weren’t wanted.”
Her features softened with sympathy. “How terrible for you.”
“Yeah. Let’s just say I didn’t handle it well. I spent the whole week acting like a little shi— Er, jerk, which didn’t make the situation any easier for anyone. Not one of my prouder moments. I think Gina walked out about two months later. I always felt like that one was a little bit my fault.”
“That sounds awful. You poor things.”
He hadn’t wanted her sympathy. Really, he couldn’t imagine why he had told her all that in the first place. Something about her warm expression and gentle compassion managed to draw out things he had no intention of telling anyone.
“With that sort of history here, I wonder why Cara wanted to have her own wedding on Kauai.”
“She was a few years younger,” Shane said. “I’m not sure she understood all the nuances, you know?”
“That makes sense.” Megan paused for a moment.
“I gather your parents have been around the wedding block a few times.”
“An understatement. Five for my dad, four for my mom. I’ve got enough ex-stepmoms and -stepdads to make a basketball team, complete with manager and a couple bench warmers. What about you?”
She gave a wistful sigh. “I was really blessed. My parents had more than two happy decades together. They were older when they had me—my mom was nearly forty and my dad a few years older. I was an only child. All I remember from growing up was how much we laughed together. Our house was always filled with joy. We loved each other.”
He noted her use of the past tense. “What happened to them?”
She focused her gaze on her daughters, who weren’t paying any attention to them. “On their twenty-fifth anniversary, they were driving home from dinner when they were T-boned by a drunk driver. Both of them died instantly.”
“I’m sorry.” On impulse, he reached for her hand and squeezed her fingers.
She looked down at their joined hands and then up at him with a tremulous smile. “That was about a year before I met Nick. My parents would have been crazy about the girls and I know they would have been fantastic grandparents. I still get sad when I think my daughters will never have the chance to know how wonderful their grandparents were.”
“They know. I’m sure you tell them. They’ll
