Summer Secrets - Barbara Freethy [74]
Caroline looked at her with surprise. "Kate. You're the last person I expected to see up here."
"The call of the wind," she said with a wry smile.
"You, too? I thought you were immune."
"Not when the breeze picks up. I'm glad you're here. I wanted to talk to you about K.C. and Dad. You took off so fast yesterday I didn't have a chance."
"Did you find out why K.C. bought the boat?"
"No. But I did find out that Dad is going to skipper the Summer Seas. He wants to race against K.C. And here's the kicker -- Dad wants us to be his crew. He wants to make a bet on the race with K.C., and if we win, we get the Moon Dancer back."
"Whoa!" Caroline put up her hand. "Did you just say Dad is racing for the Moon Dancer, and he wants us to help?"
"I did. And the worst thing is that he was actually sober when he said it." Kate gazed at the water, but she wasn't seeing the boats, she was seeing the gleam in her father's eye when he'd made his announcement. He'd looked alive, happy, energized -- and terribly angry when she hadn't supported the idea. She didn't want to feel guilty at sticking a pin in his happy balloon, but, dammit, she'd changed her life once for him, and she didn't want to do it again.
"It's not completely crazy," Caroline said slowly. "I hate to see someone else sailing our boat. It doesn't feel right."
She frowned at her sister's answer. "Caroline. Snap out of it. Dad isn't fit enough to race. He's old, and he's drunk half the time."
"He still exercises, sometimes," Caroline said defensively.
"Don't be ridiculous. Walking down to the Oyster Bar doesn't count as exercise, nor does stumbling home."
"Just because I have a different opinion than you doesn't mean I'm wrong."
"What is your opinion exactly?"
"That maybe encouraging Dad to sail again isn't such a bad idea."
"We're not talking about sailing, we're talking about racing. They're two different things, and you know it."
"I know he's not happy, Kate. He hasn't been for a long time. You know what frustrates me the most? I can ask him out to dinner or stop by for a chat, and we always start talking about you. No matter where the conversation begins, it always ends with you, the one who doesn't respect him, the one who doesn't like him, who treats him like a child."
"I don't do that. Or, if I do, it's because he acts like a child."
"The point is, Kate, you're the one whose respect and friendship he wants the most. I could tell him it's fine for him to race. I could even join him. But he wouldn't be happy if you weren't there, too. You're the one. You're it."
"Caroline, I don't think any of that is the point."
"Well, you wouldn't." Caroline took off her sweater. "It's getting warm. So much for the breeze. It seems to have died down as fast as it came up. There will be a lot of disappointed sailors down there."
Kate glanced at her sister, about to say she was more concerned about her father's disappointment, when she was struck by the sight of several dark purple bruises along Caroline's left arm. "What happened to you?" she asked with concern.
Caroline followed her gaze. "Oh, I just banged my arm on something. It's nothing."
"It doesn't look like nothing." Kate didn't like the way Caroline averted her eyes. "Did someone hurt you?"
"I'm fine."
"Was it Mike Stanaway?"
"No." Caroline slipped the sweater over her shoulders, hiding the bruises, but the damage was done.
"Then who?"
"It wasn't a who. It was a door. I just banged my arm, that's all. Leave it alone."
"I think I've been leaving you alone for too long. Caroline, you have to tell me if you're in trouble."
"Would you stop being the big sister and let me be an adult?"
"Not when I see that someone has hurt you or that you've hurt yourself. I want to help. Let me help," Kate said in frustration.
"I don't need your help. I've got it under control."