What Doesn't Kill Her (Cape Charade #2)(64)

Kellen and Max exchanged grins.

“I’m sure it is, whatever it is. And I’m sure your daddy is taking good care of your mommy.” With an edge in her voice, Verona said, “Maximilian, remember what happened last time you took care of Kellen Adams, and this time, practice safety!”

How did she know they were standing here naked except for some bedclothes? “Are you sure there’s no video?” Kellen mouthed silently at Max.

“Grandma, Mommy can’t help if she was shot at while she was saving me!” Rae was squaring off with her grandmother. Over Kellen.

Kellen dived toward the microphone. “Did you show your grandma the yarn that was your poor blankie? Did you ask her if she would teach me to crochet so I can put it back together for you?”

“What happened to your blankie?” Verona sounded angry.

“We used it for a spider web to catch the bad guys. Let me show you!” They heard Rae’s shoes clatter away at a run.

In a low voice, Verona asked, “She was in real danger, wasn’t she?”

“I’m afraid so,” Kellen said. “But she’s home with you now, safe and sound, and I promise I’ll never take her into danger again.”

Verona took two slow, audible breaths. “It wasn’t your fault. She’s a feckless child, adventurous to a fault, and I...thank you for keeping her safe. I’ve just been so frightened. So frightened.” Verona was making an excuse for herself, for her rudeness.

Kellen understood. “Of course. She is my daughter.”

“She’s very like you,” Verona said. It was not a compliment. But it was a fact.

Max was looking at Kellen, frowning, as if they were speaking in code. Which Kellen supposed, to a guy, they were.

“Verona, would you do something for me?” Kellen asked. “Would you call Yearning Sands Resort and talk to Birdie Haynes, tell her that I’m safe, and I’ll contact her as soon as I get off this mountain?”

“Of course. I’m glad to do that for you.” Verona took a breath. “Be safe. Be safe. I know how to crochet. I can put her blanket back together. I can even teach you to do it. But I can’t fix everything. So take care.”



34


“So Rae’s strategy worked. You’re bonded.” Max beamed at her, his brown eyes bright and triumphant.

“Yes.” Kellen realized she sounded disgusted, possibly not the response he was looking for, and hastily she added, “I know it’s a good thing. But I have so many regrets for what I’ve missed, and I can see so much pain ahead.”

He waved away her concerns. “Don’t worry about what you’ve missed. With a little prompting, my mother will give you the whole Rae-from-birth-to-first-grade-graduation slide show.”

“How long will that take?”

“How many weeks do you have?”

Kellen narrowed her eyes at him. “It can’t be that bad.”

“Mom never deletes a picture,” he informed her.

“Yippee.”

“I wouldn’t mind so much, but since I’m the tallest she always cuts off the top of my head.”

Kellen chuckled.

“Do you remember my family in Pennsylvania at all?” He had a way of making her laugh, relax and then—wham! He slapped her with a question or a memory.

Kellen opened her mouth and shut it, squinted and tried to explain. “I remember some things very well. I remember being on the streets and seeing that man dragging that screaming, crying little girl.”

“My niece, Annabella, in the hands of her father, Ettore Fontina. That worthless bastard.” Max’s mouth was set in an unusual cruel crescent. “Did I tell you he hung himself? When he found out that this time, not even his wealthy Italian mama could get him out of prison, he hung himself in his cell.”

“Hung himself in prison? Good. That’s good. I can never forgive him for that shot that stole—”

“Memory, love, a year of your life? More than we can even say?”

Max’s anger hung on the air between them. In a placid tone, she said, “He taught me the value of time.”

“I should have killed him when he tried to kidnap Annabella.”

“You’d still be serving your sentence.”

“I’d get off for good behavior.” He dismissed that with a wave of his hand. “What else do you remember?”

“Your sister.” Kellen had spoken with her once on the phone since regaining her memories, but there had been no family visits yet. Kellen suspected Max had insisted the new family have time alone. “She was so grateful to me for saving her daughter. She kissed me on both cheeks. I remember thinking she was a little nuts. Then I remember realizing everyone in your family thought I was more than crazy, or on drugs.”

“I didn’t think that.”

“I know. You always believed I was just—”

“—hurt.”

She swallowed and nodded. “I remember your mother. She liked me a lot more in Pennsylvania than she does now. I remember—” Kellen was squinting again, trying to see through the fog of amnesia to those winter days eight and a half years ago “—Christmas! Your family! So many of them. I don’t know that I could have remembered them even if... Even that spring if I hadn’t been shot in the head.” She touched the round scar on her forehead and looked at him. “Mostly I remember you. I remember how kind you were to me, as if I was fragile.”