“All right, dear, now don't you worry.” Coco hurried over to sh'p a supporting arm around Megan's waist. “I'm sure he's just playing a game. There are so many places to hide in the house, on the grounds.”

“He was so excited about today. It's all he could talk about. He's supposed to be playing Revolutionary War with Alex and Jenny. He—he was going to be Daniel Boone.”

“We'll find him,” Nathaniel told her.

“Of course we will.” Gently Coco began to ease Megan along. “We'll organize a search party. Won't he be excited when he finds out?”

An hour later, they were spread throughout the house, searching corners and hidey-holes, retracing and backtracking. Megan kept a steel grip on her composure and covered every inch, starting in the tower and working her way down.

He had to be here, she reassured herself. Of course, she would find him any minute. It didn't make sense otherwise.

Bubbles of hysteria rose in her throat and had to be choked down.

He was just playing a game. He'd gone exploring. He loved the house so much. He'd drawn dozens of pictures of it to send back to Oklahoma so that everyone could see that he lived in a castle.

She would find him behind the next door she opened.

Megan told herself that, repeating it like a litany, as she worked her way from room to room.

She ran into Suzanna in one of the snaking hallways. She felt cold, so cold, though the sun beat hot against the windows. “He doesn't answer me,” she said faintly. “I keep calling him, but he doesn't answer.”

“It's such a big house.” Suzanna took Megan's hands, gripped hard. “Once when we were kids we played hide-and-seek and didn't find Lilah for three hours. She'd crawled into a cabinet on the third floor and had a nap.”

“Suzanna.” Megan pressed her lips together. She had to face it, and quickly. “His two favorite shirts are missing, and both pairs of his sneakers. His baseball caps. The money he'd been saving in his jar is gone. He's not in the house. He's run away.”

“You need to sit down.”

“No, I—I need to do something. Call the police. Oh, God—” Breaking, Megan pressed her hands to her face. “Anything could have happened to him. He's just a little boy. I don't even know how long he's been gone. I don't even know.” Her eyes, swimming with fear, locked on Suzanna's. “Did you ask Alex, Jenny? Maybe he said something to them. Maybe—”

“Of course I asked them, Megan,” Suzanna said gently. “Kevin didn't say anything to them about leaving.”

“Where would he go? Why? Back to Oklahoma,” she said on a wild, hopeful thought. “Maybe he's trying to get back to Oklahoma. Maybe he's been unhappy, just pretending to like it here.”

“He's been happy. But we'll check it out. Come on, let's go down.”

“Been over every bit of this section,” Dutch told Nathaniel. “The pantries, the storerooms, even the meat locker. Trent and Sloan are going over the renovation areas, and Max and Holt are beating the bushes all over the grounds.”

There was worry in his eyes, but he was brewing a pot of fresh coffee with steady hands.

“Seems to me if the kid was just playing and heard all this shouting and calling, he'd come out to see what the excitement was all about.”

“We've been over the house twice.” Nathaniel stared grimly out the window. “Amanda and Lilah have combed every inch of The Retreat. He's not in here.”

“Don't make a lick of sense to me. Kevin's been happy as a clam. He's in here every blessed day, getting under my feet and begging for sea stories.”

“Something's got him running.” There was a prickle at the back of his neck. Rubbing it absently, Nathaniel looked out toward the cliffs. “Why does a kid run? Because he's scared, or he's hurt, or he's unhappy.”

“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?”