The story of extraordinary acts
of faith and courage …
SAFE
HARBOUR
PRAISE FOR
DANIELLE STEEL“Steel pulls out all the emotional stops.… She delivers.”—Publishers Weekly“Steel is one of the best!”—Los Angeles Times“The world's most popular author tells a good, well-paced story and explores some important issues.… Steel affirm[s] life while admitting its turbulance, melodramas, and misfiring passions.”—Booklist“Danielle Steel writes boldly and with practiced vividness about tragedy—both national and personal … with insight and power.”—Nashville Banner“There is a smooth reading style to her writings which makes it easy to forget the time and to keep flipping the pages.”—Pittsburgh Press“One of the things that keeps Danielle Steel fresh is her bent for timely story lines … the combination of Steel's comprehensive research and her skill at creating credible characters makes for a gripping read.”—Newark Star-Ledger“What counts for the reader is the ring of authenticity.”—San Francisco Chronicle“Steel knows how to wring the emotion out of the briefest scene.”—People“Ms. Steel excels at pacing her narrative, which races forward, mirroring the frenetic lives chronicled; men and women swept up in bewildering change, seeking solutions to problems never before faced.”—Nashville Banner“Danielle Steel has again uplifted her readers while skillfully communicating some of life's bittersweet verities. Who could ask for a finer gift than that?”—Philadelphia Inquirer
a cognizant original v5 release october 16 2010
PRAISE FOR THE RECENT NOVELS OF
DANIELLE STEELSAFE HARBOUR“Danielle Steel offers readers a poignant tale of friendship, family, and hope. The relationships are full, and the unforgettable spirit with which the characters struggle to renew their love for life makes this book a treasure.”—Oklahoman“Her page-turning plot and charming depiction of loving relationships will endear Ms. Steel to her fans.”—Library JournalRANSOM“This suspense novel has automatic appeal for Steel fans.”—Booklist“A surefire best seller.”—Daily NewsJOHNNY ANGEL“Call us sentimental, but sometimes we prefer the classic authors. Make it a point of pride to read Johnny Angel.…”—Chicago Sun-TimesDATING GAME“A cheerful story full of colorful dating scenarios … you can't stop devouring it.”—Chicago TribuneANSWERED PRAYERS“Smooth plotting …”—Publishers WeeklySUNSET IN ST. TROPEZ“Steel's skillful character development shines.”—Newark Star-LedgerA MAIN SELECTION OF
THE LITERARY GUILD
AND
THE DOUBLEDAY BOOK CLUB
Also by Danielle Steel
SECOND CHANCE VANISHED RANSOM MIXED BLESSINGS JOHNNY ANGEL JEWELS DATING GAME NO GREATER LOVE ANSWERED PRAYERS HEARTBEAT SUNSET IN ST. TROPEZ MESSAGE FROM NAM THE COTTAGE DADDY THE KISS STAR LEAP OF FAITH ZOYA LONE EAGLE KALEIDOSCOPE JOURNEY FINE THINGS THE HOUSE ON WANDERLUST HOPE STREET SECRETS THE WEDDING FAMILY ALBUM IRRESISTIBLE FORCES FULL CIRCLE GRANNY DAN CHANGES BITTERSWEET THURSTON HOUSE MIRROR IMAGE CROSSINGS HIS BRIGHT LIGHT: ONCE IN A LIFETIME THE STORY OF NICK TRAINA A PERFECT STRANGER THE KLONE AND I REMEMBRANCE THE LONG ROAD HOME PALOMINO THE GHOST LOVE: POEMS SPECIAL DELIVERY THE RING THE RANCH LOVING SILENT HONOR TO LOVE AGAIN MALICE SUMMER'S END FIVE DAYS IN PARIS SEASON OF PASSION LIGHTNING THE PROMISE WINGS NOW AND FOREVER THE GIFT PASSION'S PROMISE ACCIDENT GOING HOME
To my incredible, wonderful children,
Beatrix, Trevor, Todd, Sam, Victoria,
Vanessa, Maxx, Zara, and Nick,
who keep me safe, happy, and loved,
and whom I love so much.
May you ever be a safe harbour for each other.
And to the angels of “Yo! Angel!”:
Randy, Bob, Jill, Cody, Paul, Tony, Younes,
Jane and John.
with all my love,
d.s.
1
IT WAS ONE OF THOSE CHILLY, FOGGY DAYS THAT MAS-querade as summer in northern California, as the wind whipped across the long crescent of beach, and whiskbroomed a cloud of fine sand into the air. A little girl in red shorts and a white sweatshirt walked slowly down the beach, with her head turned against the wind, as her dog sniffed at seaweed at the water's edge.
The little girl had short curly red hair, amberflecked honey-colored eyes, and a dusting of freckles across her face, and those who knew children would have guessed her to be somewhere between ten and twelve. She was graceful and small, with skinny little legs. And the dog was a chocolate Lab. They walked slowly down from the gated community toward the public beach at the far end. There was almost no one on the beach that day, it was too cold. But she didn't mind, and the dog barked from time to time at the little swirls of sand raised by the wind, and then bounded back to the water's edge. He leaped backward, barking furiously, when he saw a crab, and the little girl laughed. It was obvious that the child and the dog were good friends. Something about the way they walked along together suggested a solitary life, as though one could sense that they had walked along this way often before. They walked side by side for a long time.
Some days it was hot and sunny on the beach, as one would expect in July, but not always. When the fog came in, it always seemed wintry and cold. You could see the fog roll in across the waves, and straight through the spires of the Golden Gate. At times you could see the bridge from the beach. Safe Harbour was thirty-five minutes north of San Francisco, and more than half of it was a gated community, with houses sitting just behind the dune, all along the beach. A security booth with a guard kept out the unwelcome. There was no access to the beach itself save from the houses that bordered it. At the other end, there was a public beach, and a row of simpler, almost shacklike houses, which had access to the beach as well. On hot sunny days, the public beach was crowded and populated inch by inch. But most of the time, even the public beach was sparsely visited, and at the private end, it was rare to see anyone on the beach at all.
The child had just reached the stretch of beach where the simpler houses were, when she saw a man sitting on a folding stool, painting a watercolor propped against an easel. She stopped and watched him from a considerable distance, as the Lab loped up the dune to pursue an intriguing scent he seemed to have discovered on the wind. The little girl sat down on the sand far from the artist, watching him work. She was far enough away that he was not aware of her at all. She just liked watching him, there was something solid and familiar about him as the wind brushed through his short dark hair. She liked observing people, and did the same thing with fishermen sometimes, staying well away from them, but taking in all they did. She sat there for a long time, as the artist worked. And she noticed that there were boats in his painting that didn't exist. It was quite a while before the dog came back and sat down next to her on the sand. She stroked him, without looking at him, she was looking out to sea, and then from time to time at the artist.