Honey Moon (55 page)

but my daddy wouldn't let me 'cause of the nightmares. He was so mean. And then he made us leave early just 'cause he said I was crabby."

Honey concealed her amusement. "Were you?"

"I sort of throwed my ice cream cone, but I didn't mean to hit his shirt, and he shouldn't of made us leave."

Honey couldn't help but smile, especially since she wasn't the one responsible for raising this cute little hellion. Something about her made Honey remember another little girl who had also plunged dauntlessly into life.

The child regarded her reproachfully. "It wasn't one bit funny."

Honey immediately sobered. "I'm sorry. You're right. It definitely wasn't funny to leave Disneyland early."

"Daddy already said I can't ride Black Thunder. I even cried, but he wouldn't change his mind. He's

really
mean."

No sooner were the words out of her mouth than her face splintered into a wide grin as she caught sight of someone behind Honey's back.

"Daddy!" she shrieked. Arms and legs pumping, she took off Honey smiled as she heard an
oof
of expelled breath. Which one of her workmen had fathered this little stinker? Just as she was about to turn and see, she heard that unforgettable voice.

"Jeeze, it's only been five minutes, Rach. Watch that elbow. And I asked you to wait while I took Becca to the bathroom."

Honey's entire world tilted. Her emotions leaped between a piercing sense of joy and a suffocating fear. She was abruptly conscious of her dirty jeans and untidy hair. What was he doing here? Why hadn't he stayed away so she would be safe from him? Slowly, she turned to confront him.

"Hello, Honey."

The man who stood before her was no one she knew. He was an expensive stranger, an icon with a gilded Oscar on his mantel and the world's power brokers at his feet. The eye patch was gone. The long hair that she remembered so well had been civilized in a two-hundred-dollar haircut that didn't quite reach his collar. His clothes screamed money and European style: a designer shirt instead of soft flannel, loosely fitting slacks in a subtle gray-on-gray windowpane rather than faded jeans. He pulled off his costly sunglasses and slipped them into his shirt pocket. His turquoise movie-star eyes revealed nothing of what he was feeling.

She tried to get the pieces to click together so that she could connect the movie star with the clown, the construction worker, and, most of all, with the man who had let her see his private demons, but she couldn't make the link.

Not until he gazed down at his daughters. At that moment, his false identities faded away and she knew that the man who stood before her was the same one who had laid bare his soul that night four months ago while they sat on top of Black Thunder.

"It looks like you've already met Rachel," he said. "And this is her sister, Becca."

She dropped her eyes to the child whose hand was completely enveloped in his, but before she could

say anything, Rachel broke away from his side and ran to her.

"Becca's got Down syndrome," she said in a fierce whisper that was loud enough to be heard by the world. "Don't say anything mean to her. Just 'cause she doesn't look like everybody else doesn't mean

she isn't smart."

Honey found her tongue with difficulty. There was no use trying to explain to Rachel that her silence hadn't been caused by her sister's handicap, but by her father.

"Hello, Becca," she managed, her voice shaky. "I'm glad to meet you."

"Hi," Becca said shyly.

Apparently Honey had met Rachel's standard for behavior because she nodded her approval and returned to her father's side.

Honey slipped her fingertips into the pockets of her jeans and addressed Eric for the first time. "I—I thought you were working on a film."

"Just finished up. I decided I couldn't miss the great event." His eyes were expressionless as he looked

up at Black Thunder.

"I didn't expect you," she said inanely.

"No, I don't imagine you did." His bad boy's mouth gave that cynical twist he hid behind when he was hurting. "How was your magical mystery ride?"

"I—I haven't taken it yet."

He lifted his eyebrow. "Waiting for a full moon?"

"Don't, Eric."

Rachel's voice interrupted, and her tone was decidedly condemning. "I thought you said Honey was a grown-up. She's
little
."

"That's enough, Rach."

"I bet I'll be taller than her by the time I'm in third grade. She's a shrimp for a grown-up."

"Rachel. . ." Eric's voice held a note of warning.

"It's all right, Eric." There was something decidedly calculating about Rachel's comments, and through

her own distress Honey felt a spark of admiration, not to mention a strange kinship. She knew all about this sort of challenge.

"I may be short, kiddo," she said. "But I'm tough."

"I'm tough, too," Rachel retorted.

"I can see that, but you have a way to go before you'll be as tough as I am."

Honey stuck the tips of her fingers in the back pockets of her jeans. "I was running this place when I wasn't much older than you.

It's what's inside a person that counts, not what's outside. Nobody who's got any sense
ever
messes

with me."

"Oh, Lord," Eric muttered. "I knew this would happen."

Rachel regarded her with the first hint of respect. "Are you strong enough to fight a man?"

"A dozen of them," Honey replied without hesitation.

"I had to fight my Grandpa Guy. He was giving me bad touches."

Honey felt a jolt of outrage as she realized there was more to Lilly's story than had been made public.

She concealed her dismay, and the only emotion she permitted herself to display was respect. "I'll bet

he was sorry he tangled with you."

Rachel nodded vigorously. "I screamed and yelled real loud, and then Daddy beat him up. Grandpa

Guy had to go to a special hospital for—" She looked uncertainly at her father.

"Alcoholics," he said, supplying the word.

"A hospital for alcoholics," Rachel continued. "And me and Becca don't ever have to be alone with him again. And Daddy said I don't ever have to let anybody see my underpants."

"That's good," Honey replied. "Some things are private, aren't they?"

But Rachel was no longer interested in talking about the past. Her eyes returned to Black Thunder.

"I'm not a baby. I don't see why I can't ride the roller coaster, Daddy."

"It's not negotiable," Eric said flatly.

Honey interrupted the argument she could see brewing. "Where are you staying?"

"The hotel in town."

"I don't see why we can't stay here like you did, Daddy." Rachel turned to Honey. "Daddy told us

how he helped build Black Thunder, didn't you, Daddy? And he lived right here in the middle of the 'musement park."

"It's not much of a park, Rachel," Honey warned. "If you're expecting Disneyland, you're going to be disappointed. There's just what you see. Black Thunder and a few rented attractions that get sent back on Monday morning."

"I don't care. Why can't we stay in the park where you stayed, Daddy? Becca wants to, don't you, Becca?"

Becca nodded obediently. "Becca wants to stay here."

"Sorry, girls."

Rachel tugged on her father's arm. "If we stay at the hotel everybody'll bother you for autographs just

like they did on the airplane. I want to stay here. And so does Becca. And she doesn't wet the bed anymore, Honey, so you don't have to worry."

Becca regarded Honey so sheepishly that she couldn't help but smile. "I wasn't worried at all."

Eric didn't look at Honey. Instead, he kept his eyes on his daughter. "I'm sorry, Rachel, but I don't think it's a good idea."

"Remember last time we stayed at the hotel, and I had a nightmare, and I couldn't stop screaming. That man came and pounded on the door and said he was calling the police."

Honey saw Eric's hesitation, and although she wasn't privy to the details, she could guess his dilemma.

"I don't mind, Eric," she said stiffly. "It's up to you."

"Please, Daddy! Pretty please!"

Eric shrugged. "I guess I don't have much choice, do I?"

Rachel squealed and began to hop up and down. Becca squealed, too, and also started jumping.

"Let's go look around." Rachel snatched Becca's hand and began running toward the rented carousel, which was just visible through the trees.

"Stay in sight," Eric called after them.

"We will," Rachel shouted back.

"They won't," Eric sighed.

He turned back to Honey. "You could have said no."

"And be forced into another shoot-out with your daughter? No, thank you."

He smiled. "She's pretty awful, isn't she?"

"She's wonderful, and you know it."

An awkward silence fell between them. He stuffed his hands into the pockets of his slacks. "I planned

to come here alone, but Rachel went into a tailspin when I talked to her about it."

"I imagine she was afraid you wouldn't come back."

His face darkened. "As you may have gathered, Lilly's father attacked her, and she's had terrible nightmares almost every night since."

Honey felt sickened as he filled her in on the details.

"Just getting her to separate from me during the day has been difficult enough.

The child psychologist who's working with us doesn't think I should push it, and I agree. Rachel needs to feel safe again."

"Of course she does."

"No child should have to endure what she has," he said bitterly.

Honey wanted to reach out to him, but instead she looked toward the roller coaster. "She's going to give you a hard time tomorrow about riding Black Thunder."

"I know. It's one of the reasons I shouldn't have brought her here, but I was too self-absorbed to think it through."

Why had he come? She was afraid to ask, and he didn't seem ready to volunteer the information.

"I think I need to go on a scouting mission," he said.

She glanced over toward the carousel. Just as he had predicted, the girls had disappeared. "Why are you here, Eric?"

His movie-star eyes caught her up. "I need to get on with my life, Honey. I want to find out if there's

any future for the two of us, or if I'm just kidding myself."

His frankness both surprised and dismayed her. She realized the real Eric was something of a stranger

to her, and she wasn't certain how to protect herself against him.

"Eric, I—"

Rachel's voice interrupted, calling from the other side of the trees. "Daddy!

Come see what we found."

"I have to go. We'll pick you up for dinner at six."

"I don't think that's—"

"Wear something pretty."

She opened her mouth to argue, but he was already walking away.

* * *

Honey wore the only dress she had brought with her, a simple jade-green sheath that stopped well short of her knees. She accessorized it with matching opaque stockings and jade-green pumps. A heavy gold Egyptian necklace complemented the plain round neckline. Her only other piece of jewelry was her wedding ring.

"Neat!" Rachel spun in a circle in the middle of the living area of Honey's trailer. "This is so neat,

Daddy! Why can't we live in a trailer like this?"

"I'll sell the house tomorrow."

"He's being sar-cat-sick, Becca."

"Sarcastic." He corrected her automatically while his eyes drank in the sight of Honey Jane Moon Coogan. She had bent forward so Becca could touch her necklace, and as he watched his daughter slip her hand into Honey's long hair, he tried not to think about how much he wanted to do the same thing.

"I get to sit next to Honey," Rachel announced as they left the trailer and walked toward the lot where

his rental car was parked. "You sit in the front seat with Daddy, Becca."

To his surprise, Becca stamped her foot. "Me want to sit with Honey."

"No, dummy. I saw Honey first."

Honey stepped between the girls and took their hands. "All three of us will sit in the back. We'll let your daddy chauffeur us."

"Great," he muttered, beginning to wish that he'd brought the girls' nanny with him so he could have Honey to himself for a little while.

By the time dessert arrived, he was definitely wishing he'd brought the nanny along. His daughters had completely monopolized Honey's attention. Not that he could have had a lengthy conversation with her anyway. Every time he lifted his fork, someone else appeared at the table asking for his autograph.

Across from him Honey gave a soft whistle of admiration as Becca counted out their four water glasses. "That's terrific, Becca. You sure are a good counter."

Becca had blossomed since Eric had gotten her back. The bed-wetting had stopped, and her language skills had taken a giant leap forward. Normally shy around strangers, she was chattering like a magpie

to Honey.

His gaze moved to her sister. Honey and Rachel had had several clashes of will during dinner, but Honey had won every one. He kept expecting Rachel to throw a tantrum in retaliation, but there seemed to be some kind of unspoken understanding between them. Not that he was entirely surprised. In every way except physical appearance, Rachel could have been Honey's child instead of Lilly's. Both these females he loved had crusty, aggressive exteriors and marsh-mallow interiors. They were affectionate, loyal, and fiercely protective. They also shared an entire truckload of negative traits that he didn't want to think about with pigheaded stubborness leading the pack.

Across the table, Rachel was unhappy with the fact that her sister had claimed Honey's attention, so she licked her spoon and stuck it on her nose. Honey ignored her until the spoon dropped off, then she complimented her on her dress.

He shifted his thoughts to Lilly. Just last week, they had talked. She was working with an excellent therapist—the same one who was helping him deal with Rachel's trauma— and she was more at peace than he could remember. To ease the guilt she felt over what she had put them all through, she had given him full custody of their daughters, believing he could help them heal in a way that she couldn't.