Redemption Bay

CHAPTER THREE

AFTER A RESTLESS NIGHT filled with very strange dreams involving a certain sexy billionaire, McKenzie rose before sunrise and headed outside, leaving a disgruntled Rika behind. She grabbed her kayak and paddle from the shed next to the lake then launched it from the dock.

The rim of the sun started to appear above the high peaks of the Redemptions as she paddled south along the shoreline through clear, quiet water.

Only a few hardy anglers shared the water with her but they were way out in the deep water of the middle, probably going after the huge lake trout that could be found there. She hardly noticed them as she stroked through tendrils of mist that curled off the water on these mountain mornings.

A few loons flapped their feathers and moved away from her as she paddled in their direction. To her left, a fish jumped, going after all the little morning bugs that skimmed across the surface, and in the pine trees offshore on the other side, she heard an owl hoot as he returned to bed after a night prowling the forests. Sometimes it seemed like a dream that she really had a life here—a good one, too, filled with good friends, responsibilities she did her best to tackle, a thriving business she loved.

Things could have turned out very differently for her, the child of an overworked single mother who struggled every day to care for both of them.

When she considered what could have happened to her if she had ended up in foster care in California after her mother died, she had to cringe.

Okay. Things here hadn’t exactly been perfect for her. She glanced at the shoreline, still in shadows as the sun continued its slow climb over the mountains. From here, she could see the house of her father and stepmother, where she had come to live when she was ten—a frightened, lost, grieving young girl.

Though nearly two decades had passed since the day Xochitl Vargas had arrived and been transformed slowly into McKenzie Shaw, she still felt the awkwardness of that first day when Richard had pulled into the driveway with her in the passenger seat of his BMW and her one suitcase of belongings in the trunk.

As uncomfortable as it had been for her, how much worse must it have been for her father, showing up in a small town like Haven Point with the half-Mexican love child he fathered with a paralegal during a business trip a decade earlier?

While it had taken her many years to come to this point, she had a more mature perspective now and could acknowledge the person who had been thrust in the most difficult situation—Adele, Devin’s mother and Richard’s wife.

She had opened her home and her family to the by-product of a brief affair her husband had during a difficult time in their marriage. Maybe she hadn’t been completely enthusiastic about the idea—or particularly warm and welcoming, for that matter, but she had done it.

McKenzie couldn’t really say she blamed her. What woman would have been thrilled at being forced to face the evidence of her husband’s infidelity every morning at the breakfast table?

Adele’s coolness had been more than offset by Devin and Richard. Devin had been thrilled to have a new sister—even one just two years her junior—and Richard had gone out of his way to make up for the ten years he had never known she existed.

She felt a pang at the thought of her father, gone three years now. She missed him so much sometimes and would have dearly loved to ask his advice a hundred times a day.

Some distance past her childhood home—where Devin lived alone now since her mother had moved away after Richard’s death—McKenzie pivoted the kayak around so she could paddle back home in time for work.

A few more boats had come out on the water by the time she made it back to Redemption Bay and reached the dock she shared temporarily with Ben. Even so, Lake Haven seemed quiet, serene.

Who could come here without feeling embraced by the beauty of the place?

Ben, probably. She frowned at the reminder as she hauled the kayak out of the water and carried it to the shed. He obviously hated it here—or why would he not have taken at least a passing interest in his holdings over the years?

As she headed out of the shed, she heard a low-throated bark and glanced over to the house next door just in time to see Ben and Hondo come out to the deck. The dog caught her attention first as he hurried down the deck steps to take care of what looked like urgent business. She smiled a little, then looked at Ben—and immediately wished she hadn’t.

He wore only jeans and his hair was damp, as if he had just stepped out of the shower. He held a mug of something steamy and as she watched, he took a sip, then lowered the mug and appeared to be enjoying the sunrise bursting over the mountains.

She stood gawking like an idiot, unable to look away. Her insides felt shaky and hot and she remembered suddenly some of those weird dreams she’d had about him, filled with heat and steam and hunger.

He must have sensed her presence—or, who knows, maybe she whimpered or something. To her great dismay, he glanced in her direction and after an extremely awkward moment that seemed to stretch and tug between them like the taffy Carmela Rocca sold in her store, he lifted a hand in greeting.

With sudden chagrin, she remembered she was wearing a skintight wetsuit—the only way she had found to truly enjoy chilly morning paddles around the lake—and that from his vantage point, he had an entirely unobstructed view of her too-generous curves.

It couldn’t be helped.

She nodded in response and then turned and walked with as much dignity as she could muster to her own house.

When she made it safely inside, she found Rika waiting by the door.

“Seriously?” she exclaimed to the dog. “You were out for fifteen minutes before I left. I can’t believe you need to go again.”

Her dog moved to the sunroom and whined, her attention solely focused on Ben’s German shepherd. Apparently Rika was smitten.

“I’ll let you out again in a minute—as soon as That Man lets his dog back in. You wouldn’t want to fraternize with the enemy, would you?”

Rika looked mournful, obviously disagreeing, but she gave a resigned sigh and plopped onto the rug.

As she expected, Rika hadn’t really needed to go out. When she saw the other dog was no longer in the yard, McKenzie opened the door but her dog only yawned and stretched out on the rug, just as if she hadn’t been sleeping for most of the past ten hours.

McKenzie showered and dressed, then grabbed Rika’s leash and the two of them took off into town.

By the time she reached downtown, she was brimming with energy from the walk and the early-morning paddle and hardly needed her usual coffee at Serrano’s but she and Rika stopped, anyway.

The small columned city hall on Lake Street might be the political apex of Haven Point, with the old city library next door serving as the literary hub, but Serrano’s, in its weathered redbrick building, was the social center of Haven Point.

The diner took up both stories of one of the downtown’s oldest buildings and was founded by the current owner’s great-grandparents, immigrants from Italy.

She tied Rika up in the small fenced grassy area Barbara Serrano and her husband had created just for visiting animals, then strolled through the glass door.

She loved walking inside the diner, that sense of slipping into an Old West time warp. From the mirrored wall behind the counter to the stamped-tin ceiling to the red leather chairs and old tables, Serrano’s likely wasn’t that different now than it had been a hundred years ago when it was founded. In the morning, the place smelled of pancakes, bacon and the best coffee in central Idaho.

Even more than the decor or the alluring scents, McKenzie loved the friendly welcome she always received when she walked inside.

A chorus of hellos rang out, almost as if people had spent hours practicing it together.

She waved to friends in general but made her way to the table of old-timers who had breakfast there each day, mostly to have somewhere to go and shoot the bull. She found them all completely adorable, BS and all, and always stopped to chat.

“Why, if it isn’t the prettiest mayor west of the Mississippi.”

“Morning, Ed.” She smiled at Edwin Bybee. He was just about the happiest guy in town, with a kind word to everyone. It was remarkable to her, especially considering he was fighting stage-four liver cancer.

“How are you this morning?” she asked after kissing him on his wrinkled cheek.

“Oh, I can’t complain. I’m still ticking, aren’t I?”

“Was that you out on the lake this morning?” his constant companion, Archie Peralta, asked her.

He used to be the manager of the grocery store but retired when she was still in high school. She had worked for him in her first job as a bagger and cart retriever and had a deep fondness for him.

“It was indeed.”

He gave a raspy laugh. “Thought so. That pink life jacket is a dead giveaway.”

She grinned. “I hope I didn’t scare the fish away.”

“The cutthroat biting this morning?” asked Paul Weaver, whose family had a small dairy farm on the outskirts of town.

“You’ll have to ask Archie here. He was the one with the line in the water that didn’t seem to be moving much. I was only kayaking.”

“Not this morning. They weren’t going after the bait,” Archie answered. “Don’t know why anybody would bother going out on the water without a fishing rod.”

“I’m only out there so I can watch you not catching anything,” she retorted, which made the whole table bust up.

She spent a few more minutes talking to the group and was about to go order her coffee and head to the store when Barbara Serrano headed over with a go-cup for her all ready.

No wonder she loved the woman.

“Is it true?” Barbara asked, holding the coffee just out of McKenzie’s reach as if they were playing a particularly cruel game of Monkey in the Middle.

“I don’t know. I hope not,” she answered automatically. “Is what true?”

“People have been talking all morning. Word is, Ben Kilpatrick is back in town.”

Instantly, the diner seemed to go deathly silent, as if somebody had flipped a switch. The comfortable buzz of conversation, the occasional laughter, even the clatter of silverware seemed to shut down as everybody in the vicinity stopped as if Barbara had just doused them all with McKenzie’s coffee.

“Kilpatrick. That son of a—” Ed bit off whatever harsh name he wanted to call Ben. His usually kindly, wrinkled face tightened into a scowl that shocked her, until she remembered that Ed as well as his only son had worked at the boatyard. After Kilpatrick’s closed its doors five years ago, Ed’s son and family had been forced to move away. She knew he lived in the Pacific Northwest along with Ed’s only grandchildren.

Folks here took the closing of the boatworks hard, especially those who had worked there and been displaced in a single afternoon after Joe Kilpatrick’s funeral.

“So is it true?” Barbara demanded. “Is he really back, after all this time?”

She sighed. “Yes. I can verify firsthand. Ben is in town. He showed up last night, renting Carole’s place next to mine.”

Conversation immediately started up again, animated and annoyed.

“Why is he back? What kind of trouble is he planning to stir up now?” Archie asked.

“How much more damage can he do?” Ed glared at McKenzie as if all this was her fault. That was the problem with being the mayor, she was finding. Everybody expected her to solve their problems, from a neighbor who watered his garden all night to a streetlight that had gone out.

“I don’t know why he’s here,” she confessed. “We only spoke for a moment last night. He did have an old Killy. Maybe he’s here in advance of the boat festival.”

It was a hollow explanation. She couldn’t see Ben hauling a boat from California to the hometown he hated just to show off what even she could tell had been a very fine watercraft.

“What model?” Ed asked. For the moment, he seemed to forget his animosity toward Ben. The people who had worked at the boatworks took great pride in their product—probably why Killy boats were still so sought-after these days.

“He mentioned it was a Delphine.”

“Oh, that is a fine boat,” Archie said, almost reverently.

“One of our best,” Ed agreed, in the same devout tones.

“I can’t see that the kind of boat the man owns matters a good gosh darn,” Barbara said. “I just want to know what he’s doing here with it.”

“I don’t know,” McKenzie admitted. “I can only promise you this. If he plans to cause more damage to this town than he already has, the jackass will have to get through me first.”

“Is that right?”

An instant too late, she realized all conversation in their vicinity had ground to a halt again. She turned at the familiar low drawl and of course, there he was standing just a few feet away. He looked gorgeous, wearing those jeans—buttoned up now—and a tailored polo shirt and fancy high-tech watch that could probably cover her entire mortgage.

The air inside the diner seemed to suddenly plummet thirty degrees, as if a January cold front had just blown across the lake.

No one seemed to know what to say—which she found as shocking as Ben’s presence here, since regulars usually had the opposite problem and never seemed to know when to shut up.

“Hello,” Ben said.

She cleared her throat, grateful the dusky skin she inherited from her mother didn’t show the heat she could feel soaking her cheeks. At least she hoped not.

“Um. Hi.” He knew she didn’t want him there, so she couldn’t see the point in showing outright hostility to the man. Okay, any more than she already had. “Everyone. You remember Ben Kilpatrick, I’m sure.”

Edwin opened his mouth to say something but Archie elbowed him in the ribs. While she would have liked to see them rip into Ben, this didn’t seem the time or the place—and she had a feeling that as resentful as everyone in town might be toward him for his negligence, most people were too well-mannered to throw it in his lap the first time they met.

“Hear you’ve got yourself a Delphine,” Archie said.

“I do. A 1965 model. She’s a beauty.”

“You restore her yourself?” Edwin asked.

“The easy parts. Mostly, I worked with a couple guys in the Bay area, who did the heavy lifting. I’m planning to put her in the water later today.”

“You want to keep an eye out for crevice corrosion. As I recall, the Delphine was prone to that.”

“I’ll do that. Thanks.”

“If you need a hand off-loading from your trailer, my grandson Jake works at the marina,” Paul said. “Don’t let the earring fool you. He’ll treat your Delphine like a newborn babe.”

Just once, she wished the residents of Haven Point weren’t so darn nice. This man had single-handedly turned a thriving community into a shadow of itself—but here was Ed, who had been directly impacted by Ben’s overnight decision to close the boatworks, giving him tips on the Delphine, for crying out loud, and Paul offering up his grandson’s help.

Was she the only one willing to fight the good fight?

“As I recall,” Ben said, “Serrano’s was always the best place in town for breakfast. Is that still the case?”

“Sure enough,” Archie answered.

“Try the Western omelet,” Paul said. “You can’t go wrong.”

“I never met a Serrano’s pancake I didn’t like,” Archie said.

Ben smiled. “Both sound good.”

“Why don’t you take a seat at the bar and you can see for yourself?” Barbara said.

“I prefer a table if you’ve got one free.”

“Sure. I can swing that. Looks like a nice one just opened up by the front window. Just over there.”

“I see it.”

McKenzie glared at her friend. She would have thought Barbara, at least, would be on her side. Why give the man the best table in the house?

“Menus are at the table and I’ll bring coffee in a minute.”

“Thank you. Mayor Shaw. Can you join me for a moment? I need a quick word.”

She could think of several words she would be happy to give him, free of charge, but she forced herself to remain calm.

Out the window, she could see Rika, who looked perfectly content, flopped onto her belly in a small patch of sunlight, watching the cars go past on Lake Street. “I’m in a rush, but I can spare a moment.”

She followed him to the booth, trying not to notice the broad shoulders tapering down to a narrow waist. It seemed wrong, somehow. He was a tech geek businessman, right? He ought to be pale, hunched over and asthmatic, not brimming with tanned athletic grace.

An image popped into her mind of him that morning on his terrace wearing only those jeans, masculine and relaxed. She swallowed hard. She really needed to get out more. Her friends were always trying to set her up with a grandson here, a cousin there. Maybe she needed to stop fighting the would-be matchmakers and give in, once in a while.

She slid into the booth across from him, noting the lovely view of the lake and the mountains from here. She never got tired of looking at those calming blue waters.

“You’re an early riser,” he said.

She felt that heat rising on her features again and was grateful again he couldn’t see her discomfort. “Wasting a beautiful June morning here is nothing short of criminal, as far as I’m concerned.”

His mouth twitched a little. When he didn’t quite make it into a full-fledged smile, she told herself the little clutch in her stomach couldn’t possibly be disappointment. “Have you made a law against that, Mayor?”

“Not yet. I’ll add it to the next town council agenda.” She refused to be drawn to him. Everyone else might roll over like Rika for a good long belly scratch, but not her.

“I have to go open my store,” she said shortly. “What did you want to talk to me about?”

“You want to know why I’m back in Haven Point. I thought about it overnight and decided it’s only fair to tell you.”

Ah. Finally. “I agree. We have the right to know, especially if you’ve come to town to figure out some other way to drive our economy into the ground.”

He frowned. “I’m beginning to find that accusation and your hostile attitude more than a little tiresome.”

“I’m so sorry,” she said with a forced sweetness that made her teeth ache as if she’d just eaten an entire bag of that taffy she was thinking about earlier. “I guess something about you brings out the worst in me.” Could be the lasting damage you’ve done to my town, but that might be just a guess. “Go on. Tell me why you’re here.”

He sighed. “I didn’t expect to ever return but apparently I have a tough time saying no to some people.”

“Aidan Caine.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Did he contact you to let you know I was coming?”

“A lucky guess. You’re the chief operations officer of Caine Tech and Aidan’s right-hand man. Aidan just bought half the town. Aidan and his wife-to-be, Eliza, have wonderful taste and both love Haven Point—unlike some people I won’t mention—and they’ve been working to revitalize it. Suddenly, you show up, obviously not happy about being here. I connected the dots. What did Aidan ask you to do?”

A muscle worked in his jaw. He glanced around Serrano’s. If not for her own tension, she might have found it amusing how heads swiveled back to their meals as if everybody in the place wasn’t watching him covertly—and some not even bothering with that.

He angled slightly toward the window, away from the other diners, and leaned forward, speaking in a low voice that forced her to incline forward as well, until their heads were just inches apart, far more intimate than she was completely comfortable with.

Up close, he smelled of toothpaste and some kind of expensive soap, woodsy and masculine and delicious.

Not that she noticed.

“This is a delicate situation and one that requires total discretion, as I’m sure you can understand. Unfounded rumors only stir the pot to overflowing and generally end up making a big mess.”

“What sort of rumors should I have heard?”

“Nothing, I hope,” he said. “I would like to keep it that way. Please don’t share what I’m about to tell you with anyone. Not the town council, not your executive staff.”

Which consisted of Anita Robles, her personal assistant at city hall and the real driving force behind the town. She supposed Dale Pierson, the public works director, might count as executive staff, but that was about it.

“Fine. I won’t say anything,” she said.

He studied her as if trying to gauge whether she meant it. Finally, he nodded. “The truth is, Caine Tech is expanding into a couple fresh areas and we have need of a new facility that would employ about three hundred people. Aidan is pushing to move those operations to Haven Point.”

Her brain seemed to stall on “employ” and “three hundred people.” Jobs. An economic base beyond tourism. That was exactly what Haven Point needed. It could mean new housing, stores, restaurants.

Bless Aidan and his sweet fiancée. If Eliza had been there, McKenzie would have smooched her right on the lips.

As it was, she almost smooched Ben, since he was only a few inches away—until her brain kicked in again and she remembered exactly who sat across the table from her.

Her burgeoning excitement popped as if he had just blasted it with a shotgun. Very carefully, she eased away a little and entwined her fingers together in her lap. “Aidan asked you to come here,” she said slowly. “In what capacity?”

He glanced out at the others in the restaurant then back at her. “Call it a fact-finding mission. In two weeks, I’m supposed to report to Aidan and the board of directors with a cost-benefit analysis of placing our new facility in Haven Point.”

Just as she suspected. Her stomach dropped. So much for all those beautiful jobs and families and dreams of prosperity.

“Why would he send you? Aidan can’t possibly think for a moment you’re capable of offering an objective opinion,” she hissed. “You hate it here with a passion.”

“Hate is a strong word. I don’t hate Haven Point. I’m indifferent. There’s a big difference.”