Twice in a Lifetime (16 page)

Apparently they were talking again, now that he’d warned her off.

“She’ll probably feel as you do—that it proves Ned wasn’t a coward.”

“And you don’t agree?” He shot her a glance, frowning. “It proves he had courage, but diving into the waves to rescue someone in trouble would be almost second nature

to a person who’d spent his life on the water.” “He’d know the dangers better than anyone.”

“True.” She spread her hands, palms up. “Okay, he was brave. That doesn’t cover all the reasons why he might have run away. Maybe he was opposed to the war.”

“I’d expect we’d have heard about that from someone.

Your grandmother didn’t imply anything like that.” “Miz Callie was a child. She might not have known.”

Matt drummed his fingers on the steering wheel. “What we really need is someone who was Ned’s contemporary.” She nodded. Absorbed in discussing the problem, she was almost able to forget how Matt had shut her out. Almost. Still, she could set it aside to deal with the immediate issue.

If one could call something that happened more than sixty years ago “immediate.”

“I took some of Miz Callie’s old photographs to Adam. They’d faded so much that they were practically invisible, but he thought he could bring them up with his photo program. If so, it might prompt her memories about who was around that summer.”

“Good idea.” He passed a slow-moving truck with concentrated care. “Give me names, and I’ll find out what happened to them. They can’t all have vanished.”

Frustration filled his voice. Matt was a man who set goals and met them, and he didn’t tolerate failure readily, in himself and probably not in others.

“It’s not your fault. You can’t find what’s not there.” “He certainly seemed determined to vanish. You’d think

he’d have cared about the people he left behind.”

“I’ve been thinking about that, too. Miz Callie describes someone who was kind, attentive to the younger kids in a way that a teenager often isn’t.”

He darted a glance at her, his mouth quirking in a faint smile. “Speaking from personal experience?”

“Well…” She considered. “My brothers were protective of me, I guess. They wouldn’t let anybody else pick on me, but that didn’t prevent them from doing it. And there were plenty of times when having me around was the last thing they wanted. You know how siblings are.”

The moment the words were out, she wanted them back. The childhood Matt had described hadn’t included siblings.

“No, I don’t,” he said, voice dry. “I’m sorry. I didn’t think.”

He shrugged. “It doesn’t matter. Anyway, let’s see what Miz Callie thinks.”

Biting her tongue wasn’t going to help. “I’ll try to get her talking about that, but again, it’s the memory of a young child.”

He nodded, frowning as the thickening traffic brought him to halt. “Let’s hope your brother comes up with something from the photographs, then. That seems to be our best hope at the moment.” He glanced across at her, something questioning in his gaze. “Do you want to keep quiet about the story your Aunt Lizbet told us?”

“No, I didn’t mean that. Goodness, we’d never be able to, not when she knows where we went today.” She pressed her palms on her knees. “I just hate to see her getting buoyed up about it, and then being even more disappointed if we can’t come up with anything.”

“You want to protect her.” The tender note in his voice seemed to reach right into her heart.

“Of course I do.” She hesitated, not sure how much she wanted to say to him. “She’s always done that for me. It’s time I did my part.”

“Your grandmother has probably dealt with disappointment. I think she knows how to handle it.”

Miz Callie was strong. Georgia didn’t doubt that. “This is the only thing she’s ever asked of me.” Her throat thickened. “I don’t want to let her down. I won’t.”

“We can’t always protect the people we love from pain.”

Was he talking about her grandmother? Or about his daughter? She wasn’t sure, and he wouldn’t tell her.

Miz Callie had reacted just about the way Georgia had feared when they’d told her about Aunt Lizbet’s story. In fact, she’d kept coming back to it all evening. The theme was always the same. Ned wasn’t a coward. He couldn’t have done what they said.

Georgia hadn’t had the heart to try and burst her grandmother’s optimism, which was why she was crossing the bridge at Breech’s Inlet the next day, on her way to Isle of Palms to pick up the enhanced photos from Adam.

She headed down Palm Boulevard, glancing at the new houses that lined the road. Much of Isle of Palms had been rebuilt after Hurricane Hugo, giving it a newer look than Sullivan’s Island.

She’d called Amanda before she left, hoping that she’d come up with something, but the news had all been

negative. Whatever Ned had done back in 1942, it hadn’t made the local papers.

She turned onto the side street whereAdam rented a house with three of his Coast Guard buddies. Running perpendicu-lar to the coastline, the short street ended at the beach. When Adam wasn’t out on the water, he still wanted to be near it.

Her heart sank as she pulled up in front of the tan bungalow. Her mother’s car was in the driveway.

She should not feel this way. Mamma meant well. But after the disappointment she’d shown at the news of Georgia’s broken engagement, Georgia had been just as glad to avoid further conversation on that topic.

She couldn’t hide forever. She slid out of the car and marched to the door.

Giving a cursory knock, she opened it and stepped inside, meeting the gazes of the two people in the room.

“Georgia Lee, at last.” Mamma enveloped her in a Chanel-scented hug, kissing the air near her cheek. “I was beginnin’ to think you’d forgotten you have other family besides Miz Callie.”

Georgia sent an accusing look toward Adam, but he shrugged helplessly, as if denying he’d set this up.

“Mamma, you did bring me home to help Miz Callie, remember?”

“To help us reason with Miz Callie,” her mother corrected. “How are you coming with that?”

Georgia took a step back, thinking fast. “I’m making a little progress, I guess.” Mamma didn’t need to know exactly what she was making progress on, did she?

“Good, good.” Her mother glanced from her to Adam. “What are the two of you up to?”

“Nothing,” she said quickly, reminded of answering that question in exactly the same way a few hundred times while growing up.

“Miz Callie had some old photographs she wanted me to work on,” Adam said easily. “Georgia dropped by to bug me about it.” Adam could sound relaxed. After all, he wasn’t hiding anything. “Hey, how about some sweet tea?” “None for me, thanks,” Mamma said. “I have a dozen

errands to run, and I’d best get on with it.” “Georgia?”

“Yes, thanks.” At least the subject of her broken engagement hadn’t come up, and if her mother was rushing out, she was safe.

Adam headed for the kitchen, and her mother turned to her, touching her cheek with a quick, light gesture.

“I’ve been wantin’ to talk to you, sugar.” The faintest frown showed briefly between her brows. “I wanted to say I’m sorry.”

The apology was so unexpected that Georgia could only stare for a moment. “Sorry?” She found her voice. “For what?”

“I reacted badly when you told us about your engagement.” She shook her head. “Why you didn’t call me to begin with… Well, that doesn’t matter,” she said hurriedly. “You know I want you to be happy, don’t you?”

Her throat was tight. “Yes, Mamma. I know.”

Her mother blinked rapidly for an instant. “That’s all right, then. I’m sure it will work out for the best.” She glanced at the gold bracelet watch on her wrist that was a duplicate of the one Georgia wore—Christmas gifts from Dad. “Goodness, I must be going. You be good now, y’heah?”

With a quick wave, she hurried out the door, her mind already on to the next thing on her list.

“There, that wasn’t so bad, was it?” Adam leaned against the door frame, grinning.

“Did you set that up?” she demanded.

“Not me.” He tossed her a manila envelope. “That’s the best I could do with the photos. I’ll get your tea.”

She sank down on the leather couch, opened the envelope and let the photos slide out onto her lap. When Adam returned, a glass in each hand, she looked up at him in amazement.

“These are wonderful. I had no idea you could do so much with your photo software.”

“Black and whites are a lot easier than color.” He leaned over her, looking at the pictures. “You think Miz Callie will be happy?”

“She’ll be delighted. You just might move into the favorite grandchild spot.”

“That’ll be the day.” The laughter in his eyes became muted. “Hey, it’s better between you and Mamma, isn’t it? She’s trying.”

“I know. Mamma will support me because she loves me.” She managed a smile. “I just can’t help wishing she’d support me because I’m right.”

He shrugged. “I don’t guess we can change the folks at this point. Mamma was raised to believe daughters got married.” He eyed her. “’Course, you could still satisfy her on that.”

She felt a betraying flush come up in her cheeks. “I don’t know what you mean.”

“Seems like you’ve been spending a lot of time with Matthew Harper.” His eyes twinkled. “Can’t be all business, can it?” He threw his arm over her shoulder in a hug. “Come on. Tell your big brother.”

She leaned against him. “It’s complicated.” “It always is.”

She shoved him gently. “You should talk. You’ve never been serious about a woman for more than six weeks.”

“You’re the serious type, Little Bit.” The humor left his

eyes, replaced by concern. “Don’t talk about it if you don’t want to. Just don’t get hurt.”

“I’ll try not to.” But that might be out of her control.

Matt had been a little uncomfortable when Miz Callie called with an invitation to come for dessert and to discuss what she’d gleaned from the photographs. But now that he and Lindsay were sitting at the round table in Miz Callie’s kitchen, finishing up slices of pecan pie topped with vanilla ice cream, he felt reassured.

Things were back to normal between him and Georgia. He’d been thrown off-balance earlier, but that wouldn’t happen again. No more tête-à-têtes, no more exchanging confidences. Georgia was a client’s granddaughter, helping him to fulfill a client’s wishes.

And even as he thought these things, he knew he was kidding himself. Georgia could never be put into such a restrictive box, and what happened between them had been as inevitable as it was upsetting.

He glanced across the table as she rose and started to collect the dishes. Her hair was fastened at the nape of her neck with a silver clasp, and she wore a white sundress which looked…beautiful on her.

Enough, he ordered himself. “Wonderful pie, Miz Callie. Thanks for inviting us.”

“It’s our pleasure.” Miz Callie glanced toward the living room, where he could see a sheaf of photos spread out on the coffee table. Her bright eyes betrayed her eagerness to get to the main reason for his visit.

Georgia cast a knowing eye at her grandmother and then turned to Lindsay. “I picked up a sketchbook and some drawing pencils for you today. Why don’t we go on the deck and try them out?”

His daughter’s eyes lit with almost as much enthusiasm

as Miz Callie’s. “Can we?” She jumped off her chair and then paused, as if caught in flight. “Thank you, Miz Callie. Daddy, may I be excused, please?”

He nodded. Georgia and Miz Callie had planned this to give them privacy to discuss the photos, but it was still a thoughtful act on Georgia’s part.

Maybe thoughtful wasn’t the right word. He watched her and Lindsay go out on the deck together, talking as easily as if they were the same age. That implied that she’d deliberately figured out what would please his daughter. Rather, she seemed to act instinctively.

He followed Miz Callie into the living room and took the seat she indicated next to her. She turned on the brass floor lamp, casting a pool of light on the table and the black-and-white photographs.

“I can’t tell you how excited I am at the way these pictures turned out.” Her fingers shook a little as she picked one up and handed it to him. “I had no idea Adam could do anything like this with that computer of his.”

“Photo software is pretty sophisticated.” He looked down at the picture.Young faces stared back at him, and he picked one out without any difficulty. “This is you, isn’t it?”

She nodded. “I was about Lindsay’s age then, I guess.” Like Lindsay, she’d been all arms and legs. Her hair was pulled back in a braid, and she wore that intent, impatient expression he sometimes caught on Lindsay’s face, as if she’d been interrupted while doing something important. He glanced through the sliding glass door at his daughter. She and Georgia sat side by side, both bending

over their drawing pads.

“Lindsay has warmed up to Georgia now, hasn’t she?” “I guess so.” He wasn’t sure he wanted to discuss

Georgia’s relationship with his daughter.

Miz Callie, usually so perceptive, didn’t seem to catch

the reluctance in his voice. “They’re good for each other. They have a lot in common. Georgia was feeling a bit lost when she came home.”

He decided to ignore the implication that Lindsay was feeling lost. “I appreciate Georgia taking an interest in her.”

“How formal.” Miz Callie’s eyes twinkled.

Embarrassed, he shook his head. “I didn’t mean it that way.” He hesitated, but the memory of Georgia’s well-meant advice still rankled. “I don’t suppose she knows a lot about young children.”

“Georgia has a kind heart.” Miz Callie’s gaze rested fondly on her granddaughter. “I’ll take that over book knowledge and degrees any day of the week.”

He stiffened, but the last thing he wanted was to disagree with Miz Callie. “Maybe you’re right,” he said, his tone noncommittal.

Miz Callie was still watching Georgia. “I’m praying she’ll decide to stay here, you know. She belongs here. I just hope she’ll realize that.”

What could he say? That he hoped she’d stay, too? He didn’t have the right to hope anything of the kind, because it implied an interest he was determined not to have.