Heart of the Matter (11 page)

“So go ahead, explain.” They reached the hard-packed sand where the walking was easier, and he fell into step with her.

“When I’m here, I revert to the kid I used to be here, growing up. All the cousins do. Just watch sometime when we’re doing a crab boil on the beach.” She made it sound as if it was a given, that he’d be here to share that. “The boys act like they’re about ten, and the girls…well, maybe a year or two older.”

“That fits in with something Adam said about the Bodine boys landing on anyone who caused trouble for any one of you.”

She glanced up at him. Out here in the moonlight he could see her face better, or maybe his eyes were just growing accustomed to the dark. Right now, her expression was questioning.

“The Bodine boys were terrors, there’s no doubt about that. But how did Adam come to say that to you?”

“It was when we were at the docks.” How would she react? “He implied that you were protected. I figured he was warning me off.”

If he could see colors in the dim light, he’d probably find that she was blushing.

“That nitwit. He shouldn’t have said anything of the kind. He certainly ought to have outgrown that kind of nonsense.”

She didn’t seem to be reading anything into the comment except the surface meaning, and maybe that’s all there was.

“So did they really beat up guys who bothered you girls?”

“I don’t think it ever went that far.” She paused, seeming to examine the tracks of some tiny creature in the glistening wet sand. “There was one kid who came close. He stood me up for my senior prom.”

“Sounds like he deserved some grief for that.” He was surprised to discover his fists clenching in response to that years-old insult.

“It wasn’t as bad as it sounds.” She looked up at him, as if to reinforce the point. “Really. I mean, he was just a guy friend. He never even thought of me romantically. I was just a buddy.” She gave an exaggerated sigh, as if laughing at herself. “That was the story of my high school career. I was every guy’s best buddy, the one they asked for advice on their girlfriends.”

“That doesn’t excuse him for dumping you after he’d asked you.”

She looked a little disconcerted at his persistence. “It wasn’t a big deal, except of course I’d gotten the dress and all. You see, his girl had broken up with him. He told me all about it, and then he asked me to go. But they made up at the last minute, so naturally he wanted to take her.”

Naturally. The guy really had deserved pounding. From his limited experience with girls and proms, he’d guess it had been a very big deal indeed.

“So you missed your senior prom.” He pictured her crying her eyes out in her crushed gown.

“Goodness, no. Oh, I spent about a half hour moping and crying. Wailing that I loved him. Miz Callie said that if I loved him, I’d want him to have his heart’s desire, even if that wasn’t me.” A smiled touched her lips. “Which pretty much convinced me I hadn’t loved him. And Daddy lined up all the Bodine boys who were old enough and told me to take my pick for a prom date.”

That was a diverting thought. “Who did you pick?”

“Adam. He was the big football hero. Not that my big brothers weren’t impressive, but going with a brother would really have been humiliating. I figured a cousin would be bad enough, but all the girls actually envied me. He was considered quite a catch, believe it or not.” She shook her head. “He’ll never let me forget that he took me to my senior prom. But it taught me one thing.”

“What’s that?” Hopefully not to date jerks anymore.

“That August I was off to Columbia for college, and I decided to make myself over. No more being the spunky kid sister and listening to the boys’ troubles. I turned myself into the datable girl, not the best buddy girl, and I had fun doing it, too.”

The odd thing was that she really thought she’d changed. Oh, she might have altered the exterior, but she was still the good friend everyone relied on, whether she realized it or not.

“I’m still thinking about that idiot who gave up a prom date with you. Didn’t he know what he was missing?”

“Missing?” She sounded disconcerted. They’d come to a stop and stood very close on the shining sand. The breeze off the water ruffled Amanda’s hair, blowing strands of silk across her face.

He reached out to slip his fingers into the strands, smoothing them back from her face, letting his palm linger against her cheek. Her eyes widened, and her face tilted toward his in what seemed an involuntary movement.

“He missed this.” His voice had roughened, but he couldn’t help that. Every cell in his body seemed independently aware of her. “He could have stood on the beach like this with you, touching you. He could have drawn you close.” He suited the action to the words, bringing her into the circle of his arms.

She tilted her face back, her hair swinging in a shimmering arc. “I’m glad he didn’t,” she murmured.

“I’m glad, too.” He ran his fingers back through her hair, holding her, caressing the nape of her neck, running his thumb along the smooth line of her chin. “I wouldn’t want to be jealous that he’d kissed you.”

One tiny part of his mind shouted that this was a mistake, and he shut it up ruthlessly. Mistake or not, they were going to have this moment. He lowered his head, and his lips claimed hers.

Chapter Eleven

R
oss’s hand clasped Amanda’s warmly as they walked back toward the beach house. She might have stayed there locked in his arms forever, but the family would wonder why they were gone so long. Or guess why, more likely.

It didn’t matter. Nothing mattered but being here, with him, feeling his hand swallowing up hers while warm waves washed over their bare feet and then receded, shifting the sand restlessly under them.

She should be cautious. Just because she’d tumbled headlong into love didn’t mean that he felt the same. But she couldn’t stop her feelings, any more than she could stop the ebbing tide.

She glanced up at his face, lit by the moonlight, and smiled.

“What’s so funny?” His voice was a low rumble that echoed the sound of the surf.

“You, walking in the water with your pant legs rolled up and your shoes in your hand. A bit different from your usual persona.”

His face eased into a returning smile. “It’s nice.” He sounded surprised.

“Didn’t you go to the beach for vacations when you were a child?”

“I suppose, but that was a long time ago. I haven’t taken a vacation in—” He stopped, obviously searching his memory. “Not since college, unless you count being unemployed for a time.”

“You’re overdue for a little relaxation time, then.” She’d known he was a workaholic, but that was ridiculous. Everyone needed downtime in order to stay sane.

“I guess I am. You were lucky to grow up in a place like this. With a family like yours.”

Only the fact that she was hypersensitive to his speech made her aware of some tension in those last words. Not surprising. The little he’d told her about his parents had made them sound as warm and caring a pair of boa constrictors. She sought for something that would encourage him to open up.

“Miz Callie has always held us all together, even when we were kids running wild on this beach. Tell me more about your grandmother.”

He was silent for a moment. The wavelets washed over their feet, then sucked away toward the ocean again, drawn by its irresistible force.

“She was like your Miz Callie, I suppose. The kind of person who radiates caring. Knowing she loved me gave a center to my life when I was a kid. Whatever conscience and values I have came from her.”

“She was a person of faith, then.”

He nodded. “She hauled me along to Sunday school and church every Sunday, no excuses. Even after she was gone, I still felt guilty if I tried to sleep in on Sunday mornings.”

“And now?” She held her breath, wondering if she was going too far.

He shrugged. “Now I guess I don’t know. Somehow God doesn’t seem to have much to do with my life.”

Her heart clenched. “Miz Callie would say that God has everything to do with it, even if you don’t believe.”

They’d reached the bottom of the stairs leading up to the deck. Ross stopped, turning her to face him, his hands on her shoulders. “Is that what you’d say, too?”

She nodded. “Yes. I tried the ‘sleeping in on Sunday mornings’ when I went off to college. It never worked for long. I started feeling like a boat without a rudder when I ignored my faith.”

His hands massaged her shoulders gently, and his touch seemed to go right to her heart. “You’re pretty special, you know that?”

“Not me.” She tried to deny the way her heart fluttered at his words. “Charleston is filled with women like me.”

“Then why am I not compelled to kiss any of them?” His lips found hers, and he murmured her name against her mouth.

She wanted to stop thinking entirely, to give herself up to the sensation of being held and cherished in his arms. Of feeling a part of him. But she couldn’t quite do that. What he’d revealed about his lack of faith troubled her, and she had to be careful.

He drew back finally, still holding her in the circle of his arms, but looking at her with a faintly troubled expression.

“What’s wrong?” she murmured.

“You tell me. It seemed to me you’re pulling away.”

She wasn’t sure what to say. “I guess maybe I don’t want to move too fast.”

“Maybe you’re right.” He touched her cheek. “I am still your boss. I wish…”

The sliding glass door above them opened, and footsteps sounded on the deck. “I don’t see them,” Georgia said. “They must have walked pretty far.”

She must be looking down the empty beach, wondering where they’d disappeared to.

“We’re here,” she called, resigning herself to never knowing what Ross might have said if they hadn’t been interrupted. “We’ll be right up.”

Georgia leaned over the railing to look down at them. “Sorry. I just couldn’t wait.” Her voice lifted on the words. “We found something.”

She vanished again, and Amanda heard her say something to the others. It looked as though the romantic moments were over for now, but that was probably for the best.

Ross touched her shoulder. “We’d better go up before your cousin comes after me.”

She started up the stairs, her thoughts returning to that odd exchange he’d mentioned with Adam. What had prompted that?

They walked back into the dining room to find Miz Callie looking slightly dazed. “We might have found him, Amanda. At least, we’ve found two enlistees who fit. Surely, once we look into them more closely, we’ll know. One of them must be Ned.”

“Miz Callie, that’s wonderful.” She bent to hug her grandmother, glancing from face to face.

Georgia was elated, hugging a smiling Matt. Win and Hugh looked pleased. Adam…

Adam didn’t seem to be paying any attention to their find. Instead, he was staring at Ross with a look that sent a chill right down her spine.

Cyrus drifted into Ross’s office the day after the dinner at Miz Callie’s with such a casual look that it was immediately obvious to Ross that something was on his mind. For once, he didn’t beat around the bush.

“Where do we stand with the kickback story? Anything happening?” He leaned against the corner of Ross’s desk, running one hand over his bushy white hair in a futile attempt to tame it.

Ross lifted his hands, palms up. “Nothing. That’s how much I’ve come up with. Rumors, yes. Hints, odd looks. Facts, no.”

“You’re not giving up.” Cyrus straightened, offended at the thought.

“Of course not.” Frustration put an edge to his voice. “As long as there’s a thread, I’ll keep trying to unravel it. Sometimes that’s all it takes—one loose end. I have a lead on somebody who works for a guy who’s gotten a suspiciously high number of contracts from the base.”

Cyrus grunted approval. “If there’s cheating going on, it’s our job to expose it. And if we’re first to break the story…” He let that trail off, but there was no doubt of the passion he felt. Much as Cyrus claimed to like his gadfly role, he’d give a lot to break this story.

“We’ll do our best.”

That was all he could promise, and his stomach tightened at the thought that it might not be enough. Maybe he didn’t have what it took. Maybe, in this alien place, he’d never be able to come up with the contacts that had fallen so easily into his hands in Washington.

“You’ll do it,” Cyrus said. “I take it there’s nothing to tie Bodine into the scam?”

“Nothing but his position.” And Ross’s gut instinct telling him that the man didn’t like him. But there could be plenty of reasons for that—the main one sitting out in the newsroom right now.

“It’ll happen. Look at the story you’ve nailed starting from a simple complaint from an intern about her air-conditioning.”

“That did come together.” He couldn’t help the satisfaction in his voice. “Jim’s writing a sidebar on low-income housing in the city to round it out, and we break it in tomorrow’s paper.”

Cyrus’s eyes glinted, and he rubbed his palms together. “That’ll show ’em. I read Amanda’s piece, by the way. She did a great job with that interview. Heart-tugging without being maudlin, presented the people with dignity. There’s more to that young woman than I thought, and I’ll be the first to admit it. I was judging her on her appearance, and there’s substance there.”

“It wasn’t bad.” The lukewarm words hid a rush of pleasure at hearing Amanda praised. She had really risen to the challenge he’d thrown at her.

“Guess it’s time to give her somethin’ substantial to work on.” Cyrus’s bushy brows drew down. “Unless we have to expose her daddy for a thief. I reckon we’ll see her back mighty fast if that happens.”

When Cyrus started sounding folksy, that meant that he was worried.

Well, Cyrus had company in that. Ross had let himself get involved with Amanda, despite all the good reasons not to. If this situation turned sour, a lot of people were going to get hurt.

He seemed to see Amanda’s face, turned up to his in the moonlight, and his heart clenched. If that happened, how was he going to live with himself?

Amanda dragged her mind back to the words on her computer screen. It was something of a comedown to go from the excitement of breaking the slumlord story to writing an article about the barbecue cook-off for charity the
Bugle
was sponsoring on the weekend. Too bad every story couldn’t involve controversy.

Still, it made her understand a bit about Ross’s attitude toward his profession. And why he felt his real life was back in D.C., where he could go from one important story to another.

He’ll go back to that,
a small voice whispered in the back of her mind.
He’ll go back, eventually. And then where will you be?
And even if he didn’t, were they really suited to each other? Each time they got close, it seemed she saw something in his values to push her away.

“Amanda.”

She looked up, startled, to find her cousin Adam standing in front of her desk. By the patient look on his face, he must have been standing there for a bit.

“Adam, sorry. The receptionist didn’t let me know you’re here.”

“She knows me by now. That must be some important story you’re working on to take you that far away.”

“Just daydreaming,” she said quickly. She waved toward a chair. “Have a seat. What’s up?”

He sat down, reaching over to drop a manila envelope on the desk. “Truth is that I need your opinion on something.” He tapped the envelope with one finger. “I’ve been doing some research, trying to find something that will tell us which one of our possible candidates is Uncle Ned.”

“If either,” Amanda said. “I know Miz Callie is convinced we’re almost there, but…”

“I know, I know. That’s why I want you to look at this. Be sure it’s not just wishful thinking on my part before I take it to Miz Callie.”

“What?” She reached for the envelope, but before she could take it, Adam emptied its contents onto her desk. A black-and-white photo slid out, as well as a magnifying glass.

“Take a look.” He put the photo in front of her. “You’ll need the magnifier to make out the faces. Tell me if you see anyone familiar.”

Amanda pressed the edges of the photo flat. It was a copy, she’d guess, of an old picture. Adam, with his latest photo software, would probably have sharpened it as much as possible.

The black-and-white photo showed a PT boat docked someplace where there was sandy beach and palm trees in the background. The boat’s crew posed for the camera, grinning self-consciously.

Her heart clenched at those young faces, staring out at her from more than a half century ago. They were filled with so much bravado.

“That was taken when she’d just arrived in the war zone,” Adam said. “She had a full complement then, not tested in battle yet.” He spoke of the PT boat with as much familiarity as he’d talk of his own patrol boat. “See if you recognize anyone.”

Obediently she took the magnifier. Were they going to find out what had happened to Ned Bodine at last? Her pulse beat rapidly, and she paused a moment to steady herself before bending over the image.

Take it slow, study each face methodically.
Adam trusted her to do this right and not send Miz Callie off on a wild-goose chase.

She worked from the right to the left, focusing on each face, searching for any trace of familiarity. Nothing. Then she moved the glass to the group on the left.

The face jumped out at her, so clear that she couldn’t help a gasp. She planted her finger on the figure. “There. That’s Ned. It has to be.”

“You sure, sugar? The features are pretty washed-out on an old photo like this.”

“It’s not just the features.” She struggled to explain the sense of familiarity that gripped her. “It’s not just the features, although they’re right, what you can see of them. It’s the way he holds himself, the way his hand rests on the boat’s hull, like he’s caressing it.” She grinned, sure of herself. “I’ve seen you do the same, more times than I can count.”

Adam’s face relaxed. “I see something of our Win in him, myself. That tilt of the head, maybe.”

Funny how gestures and movements could pass through generations as surely as coloring. “Which one of the two names Miz Callie picked out is he?”

“Theodore Hawkins.” He didn’t need to explain that Hawkins was the name of Granddad’s mother’s family. “I guess he wanted to take something of family with him.”

“I guess he did.” She touched the photograph lightly. “Do you know what happened to him?”

“Not yet, but it shouldn’t take long now that we have a name. One thing I do know.” His face sobered. “The PT boat went down in the South China Sea in ’44.”

Her eyes filled with tears, and she brushed them away impatiently. “Well, we thought from the beginning that he probably didn’t survive the war, since the family never heard from him. Miz Callie will be relieved to know the truth.”

He nodded, standing and scooping the photo and magnifier back into the envelope. “I’m gonna run over there a bit later to show her what we have. It’ll take a couple days, probably, to get the complete military records. You want to come with me?”

“I can’t, not tonight.” She glanced at her watch. “I’m meeting someone for dinner. You go, and take all the credit. You deserve it.”

That didn’t bring the smile she expected. “This date—it wouldn’t be with Ross Lockhart, would it?”

“Yes, why?” She sat up straighter, prepared to do battle. Adam’s attitude toward Ross was just ridiculous, and she didn’t mind telling him so.