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paint. Pounding music, the buzz of a Skil saw and manic hammering assaulted them from every direction
as they walked through the house.
"What's up?" she yelled, following him out onto the front porch. Luke made a walking motion with his
fingers and led her down the steps and across the scraggly front yard, then crossed the narrow street to
the beach. The noise from the house dimmed, overshadowed by the whisper of waves curling up the
beach. The gorgeous day was made absolutely perfect because she was with Luke.
Catherine removed her sandals and inhaled the salty air deep into her lungs. "Glorious. Beats paint
fumes." Several cheap laborers off to the right pretended to hide behind the sea grasses when they saw
Luke coming down to the water. "Isn't lunch over?" he yelled.
"We haven't even lit the barbecue, Captain Bligh!"
Several of the men called out rude comments, which Luke volleyed back with laughing ease. People
naturally gravitated to him. It was one of the things Catherine loved about him that easy, relaxed
warmth he exuded without even trying. He was such an extrovert, so charismatic that he made people
happy to be near him. People always seemed to want to do their best when Luke was around.
Together they walked down the beach in the opposite direction of the rowdy lunch crew.
"You're lucky to have such great friends."
"Yeah. A good bunch. You fit in nicely. All the guys think you're hot. The women like you, too."
Catherine felt a warm glow. In the years she'd been taking care of their dad, she'd lost contact with
many of her friends. She'd almost feared she might have lost some of her social skills. More than the
words, the approval she heard in Luke's voice put a lump in her throat. She was glad she'd put off leaving
for another day. She'd have one more Luke memory.
"Where are we going?" She skipped to keep up with his long strides. "Not, mind you, that I object to a
break from slaving over a dripping paintbrush for a while."
"Let's sit over there in the shade." Luke pointed at a small sandy dune shaded by a wisp of a tree and tall
sea grass. He leaned against the frail, gnarled tree trunk and stared out at the flat blue horizon for a few
seconds without saying anything. Catherine's stomach clenched.
She concealed the frisson of unease that coursed through her, the sensation familiar and annoying. Old
history. She usually managed to control it, but it still blindsided her every now and then. She'd felt it when
her mother had left her with Peter Van Buren. She'd felt it every time Luke had tormented her as a child,
insisting she was no relative of his. She'd felt it most profoundly the night of her seventeenth birthday,
when Luke had rejected her amateurish advances. And she'd last felt it when the man she considered her
father had died, eight months ago.
She didn't need a psychiatrist to tell her she had a fear of abandonment.Don't be ridiculous, she told
herself,no one is abandoning anyone. Luke was everything he'd always been. A typical big brother. It
wasn't his fault her feelings had grown and changed. And it would be unfair to blame him because his
hadn't. Luke would never hurt her. At least not intentionally. Pulling her shell around herself like a crab
and wanting to hide was a knee-jerk reaction.Get over it, she told herself firmly. She'd already decided
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to leave.
"If this is going to be a lecture about something, save your breath." Catherine sat gingerly on the hot sand
and circled her bare knees with her arms. Wriggling her toes, she buried them in the dry, hot granules. "I'll
be out of your hair tomorrow."
"That's what I wanted to talk to you about. Look, it's not like you have to go, is it? The house is sold.
You said yourself you wanted to make a fresh start. The Bay area's great. In a month or so I'll be living
out here, then you can finish turning the condo into the Amazon. Why leave now?"
She scratched a flake of cream paint off her shin. "I'm in the way."
"No you're not, Cat." Luke dropped to his knees beside her. He took her chin in his palm and made her
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