“Maybe, but I’m stronger because of it. I’d never lived on my own. I’m not saying I needed to, but it worked out.”
“I know it did. I can see it in you. The confidence.” He shifted, his eyes lost in the shadows. “I never wanted you to trim your dreams to make me look good. I’m not that kind of guy. In fact, I think that kind of guy’s a jerk.”
She smiled, even as she wanted to cry. “I don’t want you to give up on your dreams. I couldn’t stand it.”
“I haven’t. This adventure travel gig’s right up my alley.” He leaned back on his outstretched arms. “We’ll see what happens. I know now that the only dream that matters is being with you and the boys.”
“I know,” Maggie said, up on her knees now, at eye level with him as she touched his dark hair. “Deep down, I’ve always known.”
He flicked a mosquito off her shoulder. “The bugs have found us.”
“What do you say we could go into your tent now?”
“I thought you hated camping.”
“It’s not the camping part I’m thinking about.”
“We worry about Phoebe,” he said, “but it’s Noah we should worry about. The guy has no idea what he’s in for getting involved with an O’Dunn.”
Twenty-Three
Phoebe was alone in a room dedicated to Noah’s collection of antique swords. The lighting and climate controls were set to protect the contents of the room. It was at the back of the house, on the second floor above the pool. She’d already dipped her feet into its warm, silky water. Noah had watched her from the patio. She’d smiled at him, mumbled something about the Southern California sun and her freckles. He’d smiled back and said nothing.
He was letting her get acquainted with his world, she thought as she leaned in close and studied the ornate handle—or whatever it was called—of another sword, an eighteenth-century French rapier.
“Note the shape of the blade,” he said, coming into the small room. “It’s specifically designed for thrusting.”
She stood straight. “Thrusting as in…”
“Just what it sounds like.” He pointed at another sword next to it. “This blade has a double edge. It’s a bit longer. It can be used for thrusting but it can also slash.”
“It’s a fascinating subject.”
“There are a lot of technical terms but it’s not as complicated as it might seem,” He nodded to the sharp tip of the first rapier. “One touch in the right place is all it takes to kill one’s opponent.”
“Are you a thruster or a slasher, or is that too simplistic?” She smiled. “I’m sure I have a lot to learn.”
His eyes held hers. “I’d like to teach you.”
Phoebe tried to ignore a flutter in the pit of her stomach as she moved to another display. “You have quite a collection here. One antique sword led to another antique sword?”
“It was something to do on quiet nights after work,” he said. “What do you do?”
“Lately I’ve been fixing up my house.”
“You have your family and friends, too.”
“Don’t you?”
“I have a small family and a few good friends. I know and like a lot of people, mostly from work, fencing, karate.”
“Hollywood,” Phoebe added.
He shrugged. “Some.” He walked over to her. “This one is nineteenth-century Persian. Eventually I’ll donate most of this collection to charity, to help young martial art athletes.”
“You’ll still fence and do karate.”
It wasn’t really a question but he nodded.
“And NAK?”
“We’ll see.”
Phoebe pretended to study the ornate sword but was intensely aware of his presence. They were alone, unlikely to be interrupted. They’d flown overnight. Now…she had to consider where she’d sleep.
She cleared her throat. “Olivia and I were talking on the way to the airport. I mentioned that I’ve been reading about intensive seminars in entrepreneurship. New entrepreneurs spend a long weekend or even two or three months immersed in how to set up their own company. She said you and Dylan would be naturals. You could use the adventure travel barn for classes. People could stay at Carriage Hill. It’s a thought, anyway.”
Noah was so close now she could almost feel his breath. “It’s a good thought,” he said. “It would give me another reason to be in Knights Bridge.”
She shifted her attention back to the sword but couldn’t focus on the details. She saw Noah in Knights Bridge. Saw him in winter, skating with her on the little homemade outdoor rink on the common. Saw him careening down a snow-covered hill in a toboggan with her and her nephews.
It all felt so right when just a short time ago she couldn’t have pictured him in her small town at all.
Or herself in San Diego, with him, and yet here she was.