he was now even later than he’d been five minutes ago, he headed for the door himself. He had no idea what to make of T.J. Walker’s energy, her off-the-wall proposition or the jolt of sensual heat he’d just felt. It had been over three years since he’d known the comfort of a woman’s body. He missed the softness. The feminine scents. He missed the feel of gentle curves and silken hair.
He didn’t at all appreciate T.J. Walker reminding him of that. The last thing he needed was to add that particular brand of frustration to all the rest.
Ruthlessly shoving aside the thought, he grabbed the mail sack and the bag of chips and strode toward the gleaming white Cessna parked near the hangar. Spotting their pilot, four fishermen rose from their coolers and hauled up their heavy backpacks.
He had a flight to concentrate on. He had people to tend to who were relying on him to get them safely to their destination. He wasn’t about to jeopardize anyone’s safety by being preoccupied.
Chapter Two
Two days, Sam thought. His kids had only been gone for two days, and he was already going stir-crazy in the too-quiet house.
Plowing his fingers through his hair, he turned his back on the fading view of the ocean and massive boulders beyond his lawn and leaned against the railing of the long redwood porch. He’d once loved this time of day, the peaceful moments between dusk and nightfall when people and creatures started settling down, settling in. Now he faced his evenings trying not to think too much about the night ahead and occupied himself with his children’s routine and whatever chore or task demanded to be done.
The problem tonight was that without the kids there had been no routine. There had been no coloring with Jenny, or roughhousing with Jason or cuddling with both of them on the couch while they watched the Disney Channel or some animated video for the hundredth time. There had been no cajoling to get them to brush their teeth. No bedtime stories. There had been nothing to claim his attention or to take the emptiness out of the rambling log home he’d had built for Tina and their family.
He needed his children back. He knew they were perfectly safe with his parents. They were undoubtedly being spoiled rotten at that very moment, too. But they belonged here. On Harbor. With him.
He just needed someone responsible to be with them while he worked.
He also had no idea who that someone could be.
He couldn’t ask his sister for help. Lauren had enough on her plate being pregnant and still putting in fifty hours a week managing a department store in Bellingham. Taking them to the day-care center in town wasn’t a viable option because his hours often extended beyond theirs. If the week before Labor Day hadn’t been one of the busiest times of the year for his business, he might have been able to cut back on his flight time and stayed with them himself until he found another housekeeper. But he and his partner were shorthanded even with the other two pilots in their hire.
It wasn’t helping matters that he hadn’t had a single useful response to any of the ads he’d placed under Domestic Help Wanted in either the local or the mainland newspapers.
The haunting hoot of an owl filtered toward him from the forest of pine trees behind the house. Crickets chirped from the bushes in response.
Preferring to drown out the melancholy sounds, he picked up the hammer he’d used to repair a loose board and tossed it with a clank into his toolbox. With the thud of his boots on now-sturdy planks, he headed for the door before he could think too much more about why he’d put off going inside.
It took him all of a minute to return the toolbox to its place under the workbench in the basement. Less than that to climb back up the stairs, head through the big country kitchen and find himself back in his living room.
The spacious area was bright with the glow from the massive brass lamps on the pine end tables. Noisy audio from the big-screen TV filled the room with canned laughter. But the vitality in the comfortable, once-inviting space was only an illusion.
No matter how bright the lights, how loud the television, radio or CD player, there was still something—someone—missing. He noticed her absence even when the children were there.
Hating the emptiness, wondering if it would ever go away, he picked up the portable telephone from the table by the butterscotch-colored leather sofa. He needed to call his kids and say good-night. But he had another call to make first.
He’d paced two laps around the braided burgundy throw rug when his sister answered on the third ring.
“Hey, sis.”
“Sam.” Lauren Edwards McKendrick sounded as if she were smiling. “We were just talking about you.”
“You and Zach?”
“Me and Mom. We just hung up a couple of minutes ago.”
Two women discussing a man was seldom good news for the latter. Especially when they were all related.
“Are the kids okay?” he asked, not about to ask for details of that conversation. Picking up a red thread from the rug, he balled it between his fingers. “I tried to call them about an hour ago, but there was no answer.”
“They went out for pizza. And she said the kids are fine. I’m sure Jason will tell you, but he has a loose tooth. He wants a dollar for it. Mom says the Tooth Fairy won’t go past a quarter.”
He frowned, wondering which tooth it was. “She needs to account for inflation. She’s still thinking of when we were kids.”
“Probably. So,” Lauren said, her tone softening, “how are you doing over there?”
The piece of lint went sailing into the dark fireplace. Lousy, he thought. “Fine,” he replied. “I just need some background on someone. Do you know T.J. Walker?”
“T.J.? Sure. Everybody does.”
“I mean really know her. I’ve seen her before myself when she’s brought packages in to ship, but I need something more than nodding acquaintance information. She offered to watch the kids for me until I can find a live-in.”
Puzzlement entered his sister’s voice. “I thought she was going to talk to you about flying lessons.”
“She did. The other just sort of came up.”
“How do you get from flying lessons to baby-sitting?”
“Does it matter?”
“No, but it does sound a little odd.”
He couldn’t tell if it was a smile or curiosity in his sister’s tone. Either way, he wasn’t interested in explaining how T.J.’s proposition had come about. He wasn’t completely sure himself, other than that the woman had simply refused to take no for an answer.
“It probably does,” he agreed, letting it go at that. “So is she someone I can trust with my kids?”
“I don’t know why you couldn’t,” came her thoughtful reply. “From what I understand, she’s lived most of her life on the island, and you know everyone around here knows, or knows of, everyone else. You even know her mother,” she reminded him. “I’ll admit Crystal is a little…different,” she said,
