But she could see enough to know the two men were exchanging a long stare. And to sense something in Daniel.
Relief? Was that what he felt? A sense that if Luke did take a swing at him he’d know how to deal with it. And it would be an escape from the talking, from trying to explain . . .
“It’s okay, Luke,” Ellyn offered when Kendra didn’t answer.
Luke broke off the stare-down to shoot a look at Kendra.
She nodded, agreeing with Ellyn’s assessment.
Maybe getting rid of this man as fast as possible wasn’t the best response. She deserved an explanation. If that made him uncomfortable, too bad. She’d get the explanation. Then she’d send him on his way.
She hadn’t yet sorted out words to express this new determination when Marti came around the corner.
“He’s still here.” The older woman looked from Daniel to Kendra. “Luke can make him leave.”
“Marti, I don’t think Kendra wants . . .” Conflicting doubts crowded into Ellyn’s voice, “I mean, they have a lot to talk over.”
“Not unless Kendra wants to talk to him.” Marti’s flat statement rang with unqualified support.
Four pairs of eyes came to Kendra.
Luke broke the silence. “Kendra, you want this guy outta here?”
She didn’t doubt Luke would try–and try his damnedest–to remove Daniel Delligatti from her house, from Far Hills and from her life if that’s what she said she wanted. Would he succeed? She didn’t know. Did she want him to? That was even murkier.
She looked at the man who’d returned so unexpectedly to her life, and knew–with the same certainty she’d felt in the aftermath of a hurricane that Paulo Ayudor would return and lead her to safety–if she said she wanted him to leave now, he would go.
But he’d be back.
And he’d keep coming back.
She released a breath so deep she might have been holding it for three years.
“No. No, thank you, Luke. It’s okay. Ellyn’s right. We . . . we need to talk.” She glanced at each of her friends. “Alone. I’m sorry about our meeting on the special section. We can reschedule–”
“Don’t worry about that.” Ellyn gave her a quick hug. “Give me a call when you can.”
“Kendra, are you sure . . .” Marti’s frown shifted from her to Daniel and back. “As long as Emily’s asleep, I might as well stay.”
“No, Marti. If you don’t want to wake Emily, I’ll bring her up later.”
Still the older woman didn’t budge.
“I’ll get Emily,” Luke volunteered.
“Second door on the left,” Kendra told him.
“Are you sure–”
“I’m sure, Marti.”
“C’mon, Marti,” urged Ellyn. “Let’s get our stuff from the kitchen. About tonight, Kendra, if you don’t think you’ll make the meeting for the babysitting cooperative–”
“No, no I’m still going.”
“Okay, then come by at seven, so we can settle the kids. See you then.” Ellyn left after a quick, reassuring smile at Kendra.
Marti hesitated before she gripped Kendra’s arm. “I wish I hadn’t agreed to have dinner with Fran before the meeting . . . but I’ll see you there. In the meantime, call if you need anything.”
“I will. Thank you.”
With a final hard look toward Daniel, she followed Ellyn. Luke emerged from the hallway carrying the still sleeping Emily snuggled against his broad chest. With a nod toward Kendra, he headed out.
Daniel stared toward the hallway, and Kendra tensed, waiting for him to ask to see Matthew. What would she say? She’d cried silent tears so many nights that Matthew didn’t have a father, knowing the pain that would bring him as he grew older. And, yes, she’d cried worried tears for Paulo Ayudor.
But now Matthew’s father was here, now Paulo stood in front of her alive and well and as another man . . . She could never have anticipated so many emotions churning in her.
Staring blindly at the off-white wall that showed signs of close encounters with grubby toddler hands, Kendra stood stockstill and listened to Ellyn and Marti’s whispered conversation accompanied by the rustlings of them gathering their things. Only the sound of the back door closing released her from her stupor.
She met Daniel’s gaze.
“Would you . . .” She swallowed, licked her lips and started again. “We can sit in the kitchen.”
Before he followed, he paused, as if he might be looking toward the hallway again. She gestured to a chair at the table and continued on to the counter.
“Would you like coffee?”
“Yes, thank you.”
She’d set out sugar earlier, knowing Marti liked her coffee sweet and Ellyn took hers black. But how did he take it? She didn’t have a clue. The father of her son. A man she’d done the most intimate act with–not only making love but creating a life–and she didn’t even know how he took his coffee.
She jerked her shoulders straight, forcing calm into her words. “I don’t have cream. But there’s milk or–”
“Black, thanks.”
She poured two cups and brought them to the table, taking her usual seat, with one chair safely between them.
“I suppose it’s easier that way. Not needing sugar or cream in your coffee, I mean, when you’re on the run.”
His finger stroked slowly across the surface of the cup. His touch had been that light on her skin sometimes, yet she’d felt each contact of his roughened fingers–She dropped her head abruptly, wishing she could discipline her thoughts as well.
“I have never been a criminal, Kendra. Some have called me an outlaw, but I don’t speak well of them, either.” From the corner of her eye, she saw his hands still.
She looked up to find his dark eyes intently focused on her.
“You’re Taumaturgio, aren’t you.”
“Yes.”
She’d suspected. Maybe at some level she’d known from the start. Yet his answer raised a thousand more questions.
But before she could say anything, he added, “I was, anyway. Taumaturgio won’t be helping the Santa Estellanos any more.”
Behind those words lay a bleakness that surprised her almost as much as the surge of sympathy it provoked in her.
“What happened?”
He rubbed his hand across his eyes twice, before dropping it to the table. A flash of memory showed her Paulo Ayudor making the identical gesture.
She pressed the side of her knee against the
