Like Father, Like Son Page 4

  The last to embark, she hesitated, then forced herself to approach Kaitlin’s mother. “I still think he’ll show, but if he doesn’t I accept full responsibility.”

  “Good,” said Nadia tightly, “because I’ll be holding you fully responsible.” As Pip turned toward the bus steps, Nadia caught her by the sleeve. “Look after her, won’t you?” The plea shook Pip’s confidence. She could take the woman’s anger better.

  “Don’t worry,” she said, to reassure them both. “It’ll be fine.”

  Standing at the front of the second bus as the vehicle lumbered north, Pip caught one last view of Nadia’s anxious face. The same expression she’d worn a week earlier when she’d asked Pip to drop Joe from the trip.

  “I don’t want either of us having to deal with the aftermath when Joe cancels at the last minute,” Nadia had told her.

  “But he knows how important it is to Kaitlin.”

  “Oh, he’ll be sorry,” said Nadia, “but he’ll do it all the same. Success is a compulsion with Joe, and there’s always some million-dollar deal hanging on a knife’s edge. He’s only ever managed to get to a couple of events important to Kaitlin. In the end I stopped asking him.”

  Pip had immediately picked up her parents list and dialed Joe’s cell phone. “Mr. Fraser, it’s Philippa Browne, Kaitlin’s—”

  “I know who you are, Miss Browne.”

  “I’m confirming parent helpers.” She’d looked at Nadia. “If for any reason—”

  “Nadia’s been talking to you, hasn’t she?”

  “I’m ringing all the parents,” Pip had said calmly.

  “I’m committed.”

  The coach hit a pothole, jolting her back to the present. Taking her seat across from the driver, Pip turned to the kids. “Who wants a song?”

  “Yeahhhh!”

  Leading the singing should have taken her mind off Joe Fraser, but after three rousing choruses the only thing coming round the mountain was a dark cloud of foreboding. She broke off midverse. “Anita, can you take over?”

  Pip staggered down the aisle of the moving bus, nodding and smiling to kids and dads. Kaitlin sat apart from her friends. “Are you feeling bus-sick, sweetie? I have some pills.”

  “Dad’s not coming,” Kaitlin said in a small voice. “Mom said not to get my hopes up.”

  Pip felt a flash of anger at Nadia. “Of course he’s coming.” She took the empty seat beside the girl. “In fact, I reconfirmed with your father last night.”

  Prompted by a lingering doubt, she’d rung him. He’d spoken first, obviously recognizing her number from caller ID.

  “I said I’ll be there, Miss Browne.”

  Pip had feigned surprise. “Is that you, Mr. Fraser? I must have dialed your number by mistake.”

  “Are you standing in front of anything, Miss Browne?”

  “I’m writing equations on the blackboard.”

  “Step back, Pinocchio, before your nose hits it.”

  She’d chuckled. “Looking forward to seeing you tomorrow, Mr. Fraser.”

  “I repeat. Step back.”

  Pip had hung up, reflecting how odd it was that this grim man could make her smile so easily.

  But she couldn’t smile now, seeing Kaitlin’s unhappiness. Why was he putting his daughter through this uncertainty? “Let’s give him a quick call,” she suggested, pulling her cell phone out of her hoodie and punching in his number. It went straight to Message.

  She didn’t leave one. If you don’t show, I’ll hunt you down and kill you wouldn’t reassure his daughter. Besides, Pip didn’t want the trail to lead back to her that easily. “No answer,” she said lightly. “He’s probably trying to concentrate on driving.”

  She had to believe he’d keep his word. But as she returned to her own seat, she reminded herself that he’d disappointed his ex-wife and his daughter before. Was Pip being naive? Stupid?

  She tried to recall what it was about the man that made her trust him instinctively, and decided it was his aura of integrity. At least she hoped it was that, and not the wide shoulders and great butt.

  By the time the bus reached its destination in a forested canyon in western Sonoma two hours later, she had a headache and was ready to plunge a stake into his black heart.

  The vehicle eased to a halt in the parking lot of the recreation center, and the doors opened with a whoosh. And there stood Joe Fraser. Ruggedly handsome in faded jeans and denim jacket, with an army-style backpack slung over one broad shoulder, he raised an eyebrow. “What took you so long?”

  Her relief was so great, Pip smiled at him, when she should have got mad because he’d caused her so much needless anxiety. Instantly, his expression softened. She became aware of a slight heady sensation—no doubt caused by the fresh, redwood-scented air.

  Kaitlin squealed and hurled herself down the aisle and into his arms. The other kids bounced out of the bus like fleas off a wet dog, and the next fifteen minutes were a madhouse of organized chaos as the bus was unloaded and cabins allocated. Finally, the camp director made his welcome speech.

  Pip took the opportunity to draw Joe aside on the pretext of showing him where to put his gear. The other dads had already unpacked, but Kaitlin had been dragging Joe around with her since their arrival, too thrilled to let him out of her sight.

  “You have no idea how glad I am to see you,” Pip said when they were out of earshot of the group. On closer inspection, he looked exhausted. “Did you have to sell your soul to get here?”

  He looked at her sharply. “Something like that. I have to say I’m surprised by your enthusiasm.”

  “Are you kidding? I could kiss you.” Realizing how fervent that sounded she added hastily, “This means so much to Kaitlin.”

  A shadow passed over his face, so quickly Pip might have imagined it if she hadn’t seen it before, at their school interview. He might look and act the tough guy, but where his daughter was concerned he was a marshmallow.

  They’d reached the boys’ cabin, a barn-size log edifice more Disney than Daniel Boone. “You’ll be fine,” she reassured him. “Remember, I’m here to help.”

  “That’s the part I’m afraid of.”

  “I’ll be gentle.”

  “Uh-huh.” His tone was skeptical. “Kaitlin said you used to beat up your older brothers.”

  Pip laughed. “Let me guess…‘Know thine enemy’?”

  “I figured I needed any ammunition I could get, but don’t worry…” A glint lit his dark blue eyes. For the first time since they’d met, he smiled. “I’ll be gentle.”

  Something caught in her throat. His smile wasn’t lighthearted—never that from this harsh man—but it warmed her. She even, Pip realized with dismay, felt hot. “When you’ve dropped your gear, Mr. Fraser, come back to the clearing and I’ll introduce you to everyone.”

  “Call me Joe.”

  “Our next activity is a nature hike through the redwoods, so wear good walking shoes.” With a professional nod, she turned away.

  “And I guess I’ll call you sir,” he said behind her and Pip’s, lips curved in an involuntary smile.

  Good God, she couldn’t find Joe Fraser attractive. He was way too much hard work.

  JOE WATCHED MISS BROWNE walk away, her back as erect as a drill sergeant’s and her hips rotating with a swing that was entirely feminine.

  He hadn’t expected to like her.

  Work had swallowed his life since the divorce, but this woman captured his attention. Bossy, compassionate, aggravating and astute…He had to admit that even with sweatpants hiding those great legs, Philippa Browne was sexy.

  Joe believed in forewarned being forearmed, but his information had been filtered through the lens of an adoring ten-year-old.

  The only intriguing snippet in the red’s-her-favorite-color, Mulan’s-her-favorite-princess trivia was that Miss Browne had been a tomboy because it was the only way her three older brothers would let her play with them.

  “And even then,” Kaitlin had c
onfided earnestly, “she could never, ever cry and she always had to be the person rescued when she wanted to be the person rescuing…unless they needed an alien to kill.”

  It explained a lot.

  Walking into the cabin to dump his stuff, Joe winced. The dads had a room adjacent to the kids’ area, but the flimsy curtain wouldn’t keep out the noise of two dozen overexcited insomniacs. He unpacked Kaitlin’s pink sleeping bag, eyed the thin pillow supplied and gave up any hope of catching up on missed sleep.

  As he was changing his shoes for hiking boots, his cell phone rang. Hooking it out of his back pocket, Joe frowned as he recognized his cousin’s number.

  “Belle? Something happen?” She and her mom, Emily, were responsible for Adam in Joe’s absence. It was the first big favor he’d asked of his new Carson relatives, and he still felt uncomfortable about it.

  But Aunt Emily had made herself quietly indispensable through Adam’s first stroke, and Belle…well…she’d bulldozed her way into his life after Adam’s second stroke using loving kindness. Fresh flowers in Adam’s hospital room, pizza delivered to Joe’s apartment from her work, Diamante Pizza. Like Belle knew he was too damn tired to think about cooking. And of course they shared the bond of having difficult fathers.

  “Everything’s fine, at least with your dad,” she assured him. “But Sue just visited with her parents.” Joe winced at the mention of his other cousin. He already knew that he was in trouble.

  He hedged anyway. “What are the Bookmans doing back in town?” Jenny Bookman was his father’s new sister—and Sue’s mother. She and her husband, Luke, lived in Florida.

  “Aunt Jenny’s been worrying about Adam and decided she wanted to…well…I’ll let her tell you. The thing is, Sue’s a teeny bit annoyed that you didn’t enlist her help as well as ours.” Belle hesitated. “Actually, seriously pissed would be more accurate.”

  Joe could tell his cousin was dying to know why he hadn’t asked Sue. Fortunately, their relationship was too new, their rapport too recent for Belle to pry. He had a feeling the barriers wouldn’t last long. Jamming the phone between chin and shoulder, he finished tying his bootlaces and stood, ready to rejoin the group.

  “I’ll give Sue a call. And if I haven’t said thanks before—”

  “You have,” Belle interrupted, “a thousand times. Mom and I are happy to help. We’re family now, right?”

  Joe changed the subject. “So how’s your mom doing?” Emily had left Sam Carson after Adam’s second stroke, a stroke Joe privately held his uncle accountable for. Adam had been with Sam when he’d had the attack, though neither man would say what had passed between them.

  But Sam’s track record suggested culpability. He’d gone a little crazy when the family scandal broke, refusing to acknowledge the Frasers, and insisting his father left him the heirloom diamond necklace bequeathed to Jenny by her adoptive mother, Sarah Carson.

  In the intervening months Sam had fallen out with everybody, and caused such uproar at the hospital when he caught Emily and Belle supporting the “enemy,” that his long-suffering wife had finally left him.

  “Oh, Mom’s taken out a new lease on life,” said Belle. “It’s Dad I’m worried—” She broke off with a self-conscious laugh. “I guess you don’t want to hear about my father.”

  He didn’t, but Joe cared about Belle. “It can’t be any fun being the go-between for your parents.”

  “Now that I’ve got Matt adding more buff to the buffer zone, I’m in a remarkably happy place.” Belle had recently become engaged to a guy who gave her the unconditional love her father seemed incapable of.

  Kaitlin burst into the cabin, braids flying. “Dad, we’re all waiting for you. Hurry!” Without waiting for a reply, she rushed out.

  “I’m glad, Belle.” Leisurely, Joe followed in his daughter’s wake. “Listen, I’ve gotta go.” In the clearing outside the canteen, Miss Browne, barely a head higher than the tallest of her charges, mustered her class with a piercing whistle. Joe grinned. “I hear the call of the wild.”

  “I’ll give Uncle Adam your love.”

  His grin faded. “Regards is fine.”

  “You know, cuz, you’re damn lucky I’m too tied up with Mom and Dad to interfere. But I do expect to see more of Kaitlin after camp.”

  The barriers hadn’t lasted long. Joe sighed. “Deal.”

  “And call Sue.”

  “I will.” Later. Because catching sight of him, Miss Browne gave the imperious John Wayne arm sweep that indicated her wagons were ready to roll out.

  One unsettling, opinionated woman at a time.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  TWO HOURS INTO the slow hike from hell, Joe signaled a reluctant halt to the towheaded tomboy forging ahead. “Grace, wait here while I round up the stragglers.”

  The little girl gave an anguished groan. “Aww, what? Not again!”

  “Tell me about it,” he muttered, turning back along the shady trail winding through the woods. He knew nothing about ten-year-old girls, and yet he was in charge of a gaggle of them, because the lovely Miss Browne had assigned him Kaitlin’s team.

  At the time he’d been grateful.

  The trail followed Prospector Creek, a benign trickle after an Indian summer, with its water stained amber and choked in places with leaves. Ferns and mosses thrived in the shade of the towering redwoods. The camp was situated on the edge of two hundred acres of forest, an ecowonderland. Grimly, Joe bent to pick up the discarded wrapping of a Twinkie bar. His prey was close.

  Freckle-faced Britney came into sight first. She was taking a photo of Amanda, who was balanced one-legged on a stump with arms outstretched, her smile closemouthed to hide her braces.

  “Who dropped this?” Joe demanded.

  Britney swung the camera around and took a picture of his scowling face. “It must have fallen out of my back pocket.”

  He tossed it to her. “Plenty of time for photos after we win the orienteering challenge. Now check your compass.”

  Britney patted the pockets of her shorts. “Uh-oh.”

  Joe stared at her. To think he was selling the last thing he owned in order to be here. Because despite his best efforts, he’d been forced to make his own miracle.

  Only through ruthless self-control was he able to restrain his temper and focus on the immediate task, but it was still five minutes before they found the lost compass on a log.

  With short, jerky movements, Joe double-knotted the cord around Britney’s wrist. “Okay, are we still heading west?”

  “Which way is west again?”

  He closed his eyes briefly, then repeated the information. “So, how many feet west have we come along this trail?”

  Amanda and Britney exchanged sheepish looks.

  “Um, we kinda forgot when we stopped for the photo,” Amanda said.

  Joe gave up. “Follow the creek until you catch up to Grace, and start looking for a tall red fir with lichen growing on its north side. The next clue is at the base.”

  Amanda tapped her braces thoughtfully. “What’s north again?”

  Through gritted teeth he said, “Look at your compass.”

  “Oh, yeah.” They giggled.

  He was getting to hate that sound. “Have you seen Kaitlin and Melissa?”

  Almost before he’d finished the sentence he heard Melissa’s panicked, “Wwwwait for us!”

  The two girls looked at each other and got moving. Joe didn’t blame them.

  “They’re leaving us behind!” Melissa wailed again.

  If it weren’t for Kaitlin, Joe would have been seriously tempted to do so. His daughter’s infuriating best friend outwhined the mosquitoes, and needed her homeopathic Rescue Remedy drops every five minutes. “Mom says I live on my nerves,” she’d confided, before cannibalizing his.

  So far, he’d had to lift Melissa over a log that might contain spiders, hold her hand while she skirted a slippery mud puddle that might dirty her pretty, spangled sneakers, and talk her down from the hyste
rical conviction that she’d heard a wild animal approaching.

  Like one would come near her….

  And the hell of it was that Kaitlin adored her, hanging back to offer encouragement, while Joe fought the growing impulse to strangle Melissa with the cord of her American Girl–branded hoodie.

  The two girls came into sight. Seeing him, Melissa immediately grimaced and sat on the ground, cradling one plump, bare foot. Her toenails were painted a sparkly pink. It figured.

  Kaitlin looked up anxiously at Joe’s approach. “Melissa’s got a blister.”

  “Yeah, well, I heard Miss Browne tell her to change her shoes, so I guess it’s her own fault.” Too late, he heard the snarl in his voice—and Melissa didn’t respond well to snarling.

  The watering pot immediately started to cry. “But I didn’t think it would be so faaar.”

  “Daaad, don’t snap at Melissa. She’s very sensitive.”

  “I wasn’t snapping, I was…” Joe met his daughter’s stormy eyes. “Look, I’m sorry, okay?” Pulling the first-aid kit out of his day pack, Joe crouched down and checked the blister. As he’d expected, teeny-tiny.

  As he applied a Band-Aid, Melissa stopped crying and sucked in her breath. Anyone would think he was pouring on battery acid. “All better.” He dropped the damp little foot. “Now put your shoes back on and let’s get going.”

  Melissa said faintly, “I don’t think I can walk any farther.”

  Joe sat back on his haunches and stared at her. “You’re kidding me.” Her lower lip started to quiver, and reining in his irritation, he adopted a cajoling tone. “You don’t want to let your teammates down, do you? Remember, there’s points awarded for every activity.” This would shock her into action. “We’ll come last.”

  “Oh, that’s okay.” Melissa relaxed and repositioned the butterfly clip in her long, blond hair. “Any team with me on it comes last. Everyone’s used to it.” She caught his eye and her lower lip started to tremble again. “What?”

  “Dad!” Kaitlin tugged on his arm. “Stop staring at Melissa like that, you’re making her nervous. And winning’s not everything.”