“That boy ain't none of those things,” Dutch said staunchly.
“I wouldn't have thought so.” Nathaniel had been all three at that age, and he believed he would have recognized the signs. There had been times he ran, too. But he'd had nowhere to go.
The tickle at the back of his neck persisted. Again, he found his gaze wandering toward the cliffs. “I've got a feeling,” he said almost to himself.
“What?”
“No, just a feeling.” The prickle was in his gut now. “I'm going to check it out.”
It was as though he were being pulled to the cliffs. Nathaniel didn't fight it, though the rocky ground jarred the pain back into his bones and the steep climb stole his breath. With one hand pressed to his aching ribs, he continued, his gaze sweeping the rocks and the high wild grass.
It was, he knew, a place that would draw a child. It had drawn him as a boy. And as a man.
The sun was high and white, the sea sapphire blue, then frothy where it lashed and foamed on the rocks. Beautiful and deadly. He thought of a young boy stumbling along the path, missing a step, slipping. The nausea churned so violently he had to stop and choke it back.
Nothing had happened to Kevin, he assured himself. He wouldn't let anything happen to Kevin.
He turned, started to climb higher, calling the boy's name as he searched.
It was the bird that caught his eye. A pure white gull, graceful as a dancer, swooped over the grass and rock, circled back with a musical call that was almost human, eerily feminine. He stood, staring at it. For one sunstruck second, Nathaniel would have sworn the gull's eyes were green, green as emeralds.
It glided down, perched on the ledge below and looked up, as if waiting for him.
Nathaniel found himself clambering down, ignoring the jolts to his abused body. The thunder of the surf seemed to fill his head. He thought he smelled a woman, sweet, soft, soothing, but then it was only the sea.
The bird wheeled away, skyward, joined its mate— another gull, blindingly white. For a moment they circled, calling together in something like joy. Then they winged out to sea.
Wheezing a bit, Nathaniel gained the ledge, and saw the shallow crevice in the rock where the boy was huddled.
His first instinct was to scoop the child up, hold him. But he checked it. He wasn't altogether certain he wasn't the reason Kevin had run.
Instead, he sat down on the ledge and spoke quietly. “Nice view from here.”
Kevin kept his face pressed to his knees. “I'm going back to Oklahoma.” It was an attempt at defiance that merely sounded weary. “I can take a bus.”
“I guess so. You'd see a lot of the country that way. But I thought you liked it here.”
His answer was a shrug. “It's okay.” “Somebody give you a hard time, mate?” “No.”
“Did you have a fight with Alex?”
“No, it's nothing like that. I'm just going back to Oklahoma. It was too late to take the bus last night, so I came up here to wait. I guess maybe I fell asleep.” He hunched his shoulder, kept his face averted. “You can't make me go back.”
“Well, I'm bigger than you, so I could.” He said it gently, touched a hand to Kevin's hair. But the boy jerked away. “I'd rather not make you do anything until I understand what's on your mind.”
He let some time pass, watching the sea, listening to the wind, until he sensed Kevin relaxing a little beside him.
“Your mother's kind of worried about you. Everybody else is, too. Maybe you ought to go back and tell them goodbye before you leave.”
“She won't let me go.” “She loves you a lot.”
“She should never have had me.” There was bitterness in the words, words that were much too sharp for a little boy.
“That's a stupid thing to say. I figure you've got a right to get mad if you want but there's not much point in just being stupid.”
Kevin's head shot up. His face was streaked with tears and dirt, and it sliced through Nathaniel's heart.
“If she hadn't had me, things would be different. She always pretends it doesn't matter. But I know.”
“What do you know?”
“I'm not a baby anymore. I know what he did. He made her pregnant, then he went away. He went away, and he never cared. He went away and married Suzanna, and then he left her, too. And Alex and Jenny. That's how come I'm their brother.”
Those were stormy seas, Nathaniel thought, that needed to be navigated with care. The boy's eyes, hurt and angry, latched on to his.
“Your mother's the one who has to explain that to you, Kevin.”
“She told me that sometimes people can't get married and be together, even when they have kids. But he didn't want me. He never wanted me, and I hate him.”
“I'm not going to argue with you about that,” Nathaniel said carefully. “But your mother loves you, and that counts for a lot more. If you take off, it's going to hurt her, bad.”
Kevin's lips trembled. “She could have you if I was gone. You'd stay with her if it wasn't for me.”
“I'm afraid I'm not following you, Kevin.”
“He—he had you beat up.” Kevin's voice hitched as he fought to get the words out. “I heard last night. I heard you and Mom, and she said it was her fault, but it's mine. 'Cause he's my father and he did it and now you hate me, too, and you'll go away.”
“Little jerk.” On a flood of emotion, Nathaniel yanked the boy to his knees and shook him. “You pulled this stunt because I got a few bruises? Do I look like I can't take care of myself? Those other two wimps had to crawl away.”
“Really?” Kevin sniffed and rubbed at his eyes. “But still-”
“Still, hell. You didn't have anything to do with it, and I ought to shake you until your teeth fall out for worrying us all this way.”
“He's my father,” Kevin said, tilting his chin up. “So that means—”
“That means nothing. My father was a drunk who used to kick my butt for the pleasure of it, six days out of seven. Does that make me like him?”
“No.” Tears began to roll more freely now. “But I thought you wouldn't like me anymore, and you'd never stay and be my father now, like Holt is with Alex and Jenny.”
Nathaniel's hands gentled as he drew the sobbing boy into his arms. “You thought wrong.” He rubbed his lips over Kevin's hair, absorbed the jolt of love. “I ought to hang you from the yardarm, sailor.”
“What's that?”
“I'll show you later.” He tightened his grip. “Did you stop and think that I might be hoping you'd be my son? That I want you and your mom to be mine?”
“Honest?” Kevin's voice was muffled against Nathaniel's chest.
“Do you figure I've been training you to take the helm just to have you walk off?”
“I don't know. I guess not.”
“I've been looking for you, Kevin, longer than just today.”
With a sigh, Kevin let his head rest in the curve of Nathaniel's shoulder. “I was awful scared. But then the bird came.”
“Bird?” Remembering, Nathaniel glanced around. But the rocks were empty.
“Then I wasn't so scared. She stayed all night. She was there whenever I woke up. She flew away with the other one, but then you came. Is Mom mad at me?”
“Probably.”
Kevin sighed again—a long-suffering sound that made Nathaniel smile. “I guess I'm in trouble.”
“Well, let's get your things and go back and face the music.”
Kevin picked up his knapsack and put his hand trustingly in Nathaniel's. “Does it hurt?” he asked, studying Nathaniel's face.
“You bet.”
“Later, can I see all your bruises?” “Sure. I've got some beauts.”
Nathaniel felt every one of them as they climbed back up to the cliff path and started down the rocky slope toward home. It was worth it, worth every jar and wince, to see the look on Megan's face.