“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.

“Kevin!” She flew across the lawn, hair blowing, cheeks tracked with tears. “Go on,” Nathaniel murmured to the boy. “She'll want to hug you first.” With a nod, Kevin dropped his knapsack and raced into his mother's arms.

“Oh, Kevin...” She couldn't hold him tight enough, even kneeling on the grass, pressing him close, rocking and weeping in terrible relief.

“Where'd you find him?” Trent asked Nathaniel quietly. “Up on the cliffs, holed up in a crevice in the rocks.”

“Good God.” C.C. shuddered. “Did he spend the night up there?” “Looked that way. I had this feeling, I can't explain it. And there he was.”

“A feeling?” Trent exchanged a look with his wife. “Remind me to tell you sometime how I found Fred when he was a puppy.”

Max gave Nathaniel a pat on the back. “I'll go call the police, let them know we've found him.”

“He'll be hungry.” Coco swallowed fresh tears and burrowed closer to Dutch. “We'll go fix him something to eat.”

“You bring 'em in when she's finished slobbering over him—” Dutch camouflaged the break in his voice with a cough. “Women. Always making a fuss.”

“Come on, let's go in.” Suzanna tugged on Alex and Jenny's hands. “But I want to ask if he saw the ghosts,” Alex complained.

“Later.” Holt solved the problem by hoisting Alex onto his shoulders.

With a shuddering sigh, Megan drew back, ran her hands over Kevin's face. “You're all right? You're not hurt?”

“Nuh-uh.” It embarrassed him that he'd cried is front of his brother and sister. After all, he was nearly nine. “I'm okay.”

“Don't you ever do that again.” The swift change from weeping mother to fierce parent had Nathaniel's brows rising. “You had us all worried sick, young man. We've been looking for you for hours, even Aunt Colleen. We've called the police.”

“I'm sorry.” But the thrill of knowing the police had been alerted overpowered the guilt.

“Sorry isn't enough, Kevin Michael O'Riley.”

Kevin's gaze hit the ground. It was big-time trouble when she used all his names. “I won't ever do it again. I promise.”

“You had no business doing it this time. I'm supposed to be able to trust you, and now— Oh.” On another hitching sob, she pressed his head to her breast. “I was so scared, baby. I love you so much. Where were you going?”

“I don't know. Maybe Grandma's.”

“Grandma's.” She sat back on her heels and sighed. “Don't you like it here?”

“I like it best of anything.”

“Then why did you run away, Kevin? Are you mad at me?”

He shook his head, then dropped his chin on his chest. “I thought you and Nate were mad at me because he got beat up. But Nate says it's not my fault and you're not mad. He says it doesn't matter about him. You're not mad at me, are you?”

Her horrified eyes flew to Nate's, held there as she drew Kevin close again. “Oh, no, baby, I'm not. No one is.” She looked at her son again, cupping his face in her hands. “Remember when I told you that sometimes people can't be together? I should explain that sometimes they shouldn't be together. That's the way it was with me and—” She couldn't refer to him as Kevin's father. “With me and Baxter.”

“But I was an accident.”

“Oh, no.” She smiled then, kissed his cheeks. “An accident's something you wish hadn't happened. You were a gift. The best one I ever had in my life. If you ever think I don't want you again, I guess I'll have to stuff you into a box and tie it up with a bow so you'll get the point.”

He giggled. “I'm sorry.”

“Me too. Now let's go get you cleaned up.” She rose, gripped her son's hand in hers and looked at Nathaniel. “Thank you.”

In the way of children, Kevin bounced back from his night on the cliffs and threw himself into the holiday. He was, for the moment, a hero, desperately impressing his siblings with his tales of the dark and the sea and a white bird with green eyes.

In keeping with the family gathering, all the dogs attended, so Sadie and Fred raced with their puppies and the children over the rolling lawn. Babies napped in playpens or rocked in swings or charmed their way into willing arms. A few hotel guests wandered over from their own feast provided by The Retreat, drawn by the laughter and raised voices.

Nathaniel passed, reluctantly, on the impromptu softball game, figuring one slide into third would have him down for the count. Instead, he designated himself umpire and had the pleasure of arguing with every batter he called out.

“Are you blind or just stupid?” C.C. tossed down her bat in disgust. “A sock in the eye's no excuse for missing that call. That ball was outside a half a mile.”

Nathaniel clamped his cigar in his teeth. “Not from where I'm standing, sugar.”

She slapped her hands on her hips. “Then you're standing in the wrong spot.” Jenny took the opportunity to attempt a cartwheel over home plate, and earned some applause from the infield.

“C.C, you've got one of the best-looking strike zones I've ever had the pleasure of seeing. And that was strike three. You're out.”

“If you weren't already black-and-blue...” She swallowed a laugh, and sneered instead. “You're up, Lilah.”

“Already?” In a lazy gesture, Lilah brushed her hair away from her face and stepped into the box.

From her position at short, Megan glanced at her second baseman. “She won't run even if she connects.”

Suzanna sighed, shook her head. “She won't have to. Just watch.”

Lilah skimmed a hand down her hip, cast a sultry look back at Nathaniel, then faced the pitcher. Sloan went through an elaborate windup that had the children cheering. Lilah took the first strike with the bat still on her shoulder. Yawned.

“We keeping you up?” Nathaniel asked her. “I like to wait for my pitch.”

Apparently the second one wasn't the one she was waiting for. She let it breeze by, and earned catcalls from the opposing team.

She stepped out of the box, stretched, smiled at Sloan. “Okay, big guy,” she said as she took her stance again. She cracked the low curveball and sent it soaring for a home run. Amid the cheers, she turned and handed her bat to Nathaniel. “I always recognize the right pitch,” she told him, and sauntered around the bases.

When the game broke for the feast, Nathaniel eased down beside Megan.

“You've got a pretty good arm there, sugar.”

“I coached Kevin's Little League team back in Oklahoma.” Her gaze wandered to her son, as it had dozens of times during the afternoon. “He doesn't seem any the worse for wear, does he?”

“Nope. How about you?”

“The bats in my stomach have mellowed out to butterflies.” She pressed a hand to them now, lowered her voice. “I never knew he thought about Baxter. About... any of it. I should have.”

“A boy's got to have some secrets, even from his mother.”

“I suppose.” It was too beautiful a day, she decided, too precious a day, to waste on worry. “Whatever you said to him up there, however you said it, was exactly right. It means a lot to me.” She looked over at him. “You mean a lot to me.”

Nathaniel sipped his beer, studied her. “You're working up to something, Meg. Why don't you just say it?”

“All right. After you left yesterday, I spent a lot of time thinking. About how I'd feel if you didn't come back. I knew there'd be a hole in my life. Maybe I'd be able to fill it again, part of the way, but something would always be missing. When I asked myself what that would be, I kept coming up with the same answer. No matter how many ways I looked at it or juggled it around, the answer never changed.”

“So what's the answer, Meg?”

“You, Nathaniel.” She leaned over and kissed him. “Just you.”

Later, when the sky was dark and the moon floated over the water, she watched the fireworks explode. Color bloomed into color. Waterfalls of glowing sparks rained from sky to water in a celebration of freedom, new beginnings and, Megan thought, hope.