The Secret Sister. Brenda Novak
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The beach was cold and damp, but there was nowhere soft enough to lie down in the bungalow, and nothing to cover up with. Hugging herself, Maisey tried to go back to sleep. She wasn’t ready to wake up, was exhausted in a bone-deep way. With dawn breaking, she hoped it would get warm quickly and she’d be able to nap for a couple of hours before she had to face the day.
“Maisey? Is that you?”
Startled to realize she had company, she came more fully awake and squinted at the man standing over her. He looked like a giant amorphous shape surrounded by a halo of bright sunlight. At first she had no idea who he was. But after she blinked the sleep from her eyes, she saw that it was only Rafe, wearing jogging clothes and a pack-like contraption strapped to his back that made him appear larger than he was.
Maisey’s face grew instantly hot. She was wearing several layers of clothes—almost everything in her suitcase. She must look like some kind of homeless person. Which, in fact, she was...
Scrambling to her feet despite the restriction caused by all those layers, she started brushing away the sand clinging to her cheek, hair and clothes. “Sorry. I—I didn’t mean to alarm you. I didn’t expect anyone to be on the beach this early.”
“I’m just glad you’re breathing,” he said. “I had a terrible feeling I’d discovered your...never mind.”
The glare of the sun made it hard to interpret Rafe’s expression. She couldn’t see his face clearly, but his tone conveyed surprise.
Once she shaded her eyes, she was surprised herself. The contraption on his back was a child carrier, and there was a child in it—a girl, who had to be five or six, with blond pigtails and sunglasses.
Why was he carrying such a large child? And on a run? Most people found it challenging to exercise without the extra weight. But...he looked stronger than a lot of men. Maybe that was how he’d gotten to be so muscular. Maybe he liked to push himself.
“Why are you down here?” he asked. He didn’t add, “Looking like that,” but she heard it in his voice. “Did you lose your key? If you couldn’t get in, you should’ve come to my place. I would’ve helped you.”
She cleared her throat. “No, I’ve got the key.”
He gestured at the indentation her body had made in the sand. “Then what’s this about?”
Maisey was relieved when the child spoke, because it saved her from having to come up with an answer. She wasn’t sure what to say. Her mother was so private, and Rafe worked for her mother...
“Who is it, Daddy?”
Daddy? Yesterday, when she first saw Rafe, Maisey hadn’t even considered the possibility that he might have children. Had he ever been married?
“It’s our new neighbor, sweetheart,” Rafe replied.
“Our neighbor?” the child echoed. “We have a neighbor?”
“We do now. Her name is Maisey Lazarow.”
Wrinkling her nose, the girl rolled her head back; she seemed to be looking at the sky instead of at Maisey. “She doesn’t sound like Mrs. Lazarow.”
“Because she’s not,” he said. “This is her daughter.”
“Silly!” she said with a laugh. “She doesn’t have a daughter.”
He adjusted the pack. “Maisey moved away a while ago. And now she’s back.”
Curiosity lit her face as she sobered. “How old is she?”
The way they were talking—as if Maisey wasn’t right in front of them—seemed odd. If those sunglasses made it difficult for the child to see, why didn’t she remove them?
“Thirty-four,” Maisey volunteered, but that was an unexpected question. Generally, to a child of that age, an adult was an adult. But this girl acted as though she had no frame of reference. “How old are you?” Maisey asked.
“Five and three-quarters.”
Almost six. Maisey had guessed correctly; this wasn’t a toddler. “Nice to meet you. What’s your name?”
“Laney,” she announced, and wrapped her arms around her father’s neck in an impulsive and exuberant hug.
Maisey shifted her eyes to Rafe.
“I would’ve told you,” he said. “You didn’t let me get that far.”
“I see. Well, you certainly don’t owe me any explanations. Congratulations on having such a beautiful daughter.” That wasn’t an empty compliment. Although the girl acted a little...different from other kids her age, she was exceptionally pretty. Maisey could see a lot of her father in her. Her hair was lighter than Rafe’s, but she had his smile and bone structure.
It wasn’t until Maisey noticed the collapsible cane dangling from the child carrier that she realized the sunglasses weren’t the reason Laney couldn’t see. The girl was blind, which explained why Rafe was carrying her, even on a run. He probably couldn’t leave her alone when he worked out.
“Are you exercising, too?” Laney asked.
Out of habit, Maisey shook her head. Then, feeling silly since the child wouldn’t be able to tell she’d responded, she followed up with, “No. I—I was sleeping.”
“On the beach?” She giggled. “Daddy, I want to sleep on the beach!”
Rafe’s gaze swept over Maisey. “I’m pretty sure it’s too cold this time of year.”
“It wouldn’t be if you had some blankets,” Maisey said.
Laney swung her legs to show her enthusiasm for the idea. “We have blankets. We could take them from our beds!”
Feeling awkward and self-conscious, Maisey rubbed her arms, even though the adrenaline that had shot through her at being startled awake had done a great deal to ward off the chill. “How long will you be visiting, Laney?”
Laney rolled her head back again. “Visiting who?”
“How long will you be staying with your—”
Rafe broke in. “She lives with me.”
“Oh.” Maisey combed her fingers through her hair and encountered several tangles that told her she must look as unkempt as she feared. “Then you should have plenty of chances to camp on the beach.”
“With our blankets,” Laney added.
“You wouldn’t want to go without them unless you had to,” Maisey said.
“Why did you have to?” Rafe asked.
“I ran into a little...trouble last night, but I’ll get everything worked out today.” She started to back away, toward the road that led around to their units. “See you later. Have fun, Laney.”
Raphael’s daughter waved. “I like your voice. You seem nice. She’s a nice lady, isn’t she, Daddy? Do you like our new neighbor?”
Maisey spoke before he could respond. “There’s no question that you’re nice,” she said, then turned and ran.
MAISEY TRIED CALLING Keith as soon as she got back to the house. He didn’t answer, so she left another voice mail and sent another text.
Seriously? You won’t answer my calls? Are you okay? I’m not mad. I swear it. I just want to know that you’re safe.
She stared at her phone for several seconds. Then she called Coldiron House.
Clarissa answered again.