rocks. The breeze teased her autumn tendrils of hair, and the brightness of her smile seemed to challenge the setting sun. Like a pixie, she enchanted him. He studied her longer than was polite.
“Hello,” she called. “Gulliver and I are going for a walk along the beach, care to join us?”
Gulliver, she’d called the dog, and the image of a tiny Lilliputian queen trying valiantly to capture the giant brought a smile to his lips.
“What’s so funny?” she asked, swiping at a fiery strand of hair whipping in the ocean air.
He doubted telling her she reminded him of a Lilliputian would sit well, even if he bestowed the respectful title of queen, so he changed the subject. “Looks to me as though that dog wants to drag you down the beach.”
“I’m stronger than I look,” she said with a grin. “Tougher, too.”
Michael smiled again, finding it hard to believe that the redheaded pixie was either. He’d seen his share of strong women, hard women. Spending a few moments with one who was entirely different than others he’d known suddenly seemed appealing. He stood and climbed from the rocks, brushing the sand from the backside of his khaki shorts while he made his way toward her. “Maybe I should hold the dog.”
She shrugged as though his offer didn’t warrant much consideration, but a dimpled cheek and dancing green eyes told him she found something amusing in his words. “Suit yourself,” she said, handing him the leash.
As she transferred control of Gulliver, the dog danced and pranced before nearly dislocating Michael’s shoulder. “Hey, settle down, boy.” Then he glanced at the woman walking at his side and wearing a smile as light and easy as the ocean breeze.
“Gulliver loves to run on the beach,” she said, the lilt of her voice as fey as her appearance. “But I’m trying hard to train him to be well mannered.”
She had her work cut out for her, Michael thought. The dog still needed a lot of discipline, but he didn’t mention it. “How long have you been working with him?”
“Since I found him about three weeks ago,” she said, stooping to reach for a shell resting on the sand. She blew on it, then held it out for him to see. “Pretty, isn’t it?”
He nodded, although he would have stepped right over it himself.
She flashed him another effervescent smile. “I collect things.”
“Besides stray dogs and strangers?” he asked, unable to resist teasing her a bit.
She tucked the brown and yellow speckled shell into the front pocket of her shorts. “There’s enough loneliness in the world.”
He wondered whether she had experienced loneliness firsthand, or if she just had a compassionate heart. Both, he surmised. The sudden curiosity about her surprised him. “Mrs. Campbell said you’ve been helping her with the kids.”
Kara nodded. “At first, it was a neighborly thing to do, like reading to Mr. Radcliff. But I fell in love with Ashley and Eric. And we’ve become a family of sorts. When Lizzie can no longer take care of them, I’d like to be their guardian. Their mom. And I’ll take care of Lizzie, too.”
It seemed a noble thing for her to do. He couldn’t imagine his ex-wife being so tenderhearted that she’d take in a couple of orphans. Denise hadn’t wanted any of her own kids.
Why hadn’t he spotted her true character until after it reached up and smacked him between the eyes? In a way, he only had himself to blame for the entire mess.
“How long have you known the Campbells?” he asked, trying to put the past aside.
“Ever since the accident.”
“Accident? What happened?”
She sighed, then looked at the ocean. “Eric, Ashley and their parents were driving home late at night when they were involved in a hit-and-run collision. Somebody sideswiped them, causing the car they were driving to spin out of control. It hit a concrete guardrail and burst into flames. The parents died upon impact, according to the coroner.”
The wind whipped a strand of hair across her face, and she brushed it from her cheek. “Eric was seriously injured, but instead of panicking, he released his baby sister from the car seat and carried her from the burning vehicle. A highway patrolman who came upon the scene found Eric holding Ashley on the side of the road, tears running down his face, trying his best to calm the crying baby. The city council proclaimed him a hero. It was in all the papers.”
Michael vaguely recalled reading about it, but lately, his mind had been on his own trials and tribulations. A small voice urged him to take care, to avoid rubbing elbows with anyone who might stir up media curiosity, but he pushed it aside. The accident had happened nearly a year ago, if he remembered correctly.
“Mrs. Campbell mentioned she had custody of her two grandchildren,” he said.
“Lizzie had to fight hard for it, though. She’s nearly seventy-five years old, and her health isn’t the best. A wave of public sentiment swayed the judge to grant her temporary custody. I help as much as I can, when I’m not working or in school.”
School? She had a youthful appearance, yet a wisdom in her eyes. He wondered how old she was. Yet what did it matter? So what if she was at least ten years his junior. She was just a woman he’d met while on vacation, certainly not a potential date. Still, she had tweaked his curiosity.
“Where do you go to school?” he asked, wanting to know more about her, about how she spent her time, what goals she had set.
“I graduated from Cal State San Marcos last June. I’ve been accepted into graduate school, so I’m working hard to save enough money to go.”
“What’s your major?”
“Liberal arts. I want to be a teacher and plan to get a master’s degree in education.” She flashed him another fey smile, and he had no doubt she would charm children and parents alike. He’d seen her with Eric. She’d make a great teacher.
“How about a student loan?” he asked. “Then you wouldn’t have to work at all.”
She sobered. “No. I’ve had enough public assistance in my life. I want to put myself through school, even if it means working at the Pacifica Bar and Grill until I can save enough for tuition.”
He missed the smile, the lighthearted tone of her voice. And he wondered where she’d hidden them. And why.
Be clinical and detached, he reminded himself. This woman is none of your business.
“Oh, look,” she said, pointing to a round piece of blue plastic up ahead. “A Frisbee.”
She darted toward the circular toy and bent at the waist to retrieve it, giving Michael a tantalizing glimpse of a perfectly rounded derriere and two shapely upper thighs that peeked through the flared hem of her shorts. He swallowed hard, trying to ignore a surge of desire. Kara might be small in stature, but she was woman through and through. An enticing woman, although he had the feeling she wasn’t aware of how striking she was.
“Want to play?” she asked, eyes bright.
Play? With her? In a heartbeat. But not Frisbee. Gulliver jerked on the leash, drawing Michael to reality. “I’m afraid I haven’t played on the beach in a long time. I doubt my aim is worth a darn.”
“We’ll just have to see about that,” Kara said, waving the blue toy as she carried it to him, all the while flashing him a dimpled smile.
A seagull cried overhead, then swooped toward the sand, pecking at a bag of potato chips left on the beach.
Spotting the gull, Gulliver yipped in excitement, then leaped up and jerked against the leash. In an effort to chase the bird, the fool dog circled Kara, throwing her into Michael. Then, as Michael reached to steady her, Gulliver wrapped the leash around their legs.
Off balance,