The Homecoming by Anne Marie Winston Read Free Book Online

lunch, which she served beneath the same large umbrella where they’d eaten breakfast.
    â€œThis looks wonderful,” Sydney told her. “What are these dishes?”
    â€œSeared ahi with a mustard-soy sauce,” Leilani said, “macadamia-nut wontons stuffed with brie, sea-vegetable salad and for dessert, Kilohana mud pie with mocha ice cream.”
    â€œ Ahi is just tuna,” Danny told her. “And she stole the recipe for the mud pie from her cousin who works at Gaylord’s over on Kauai.”
    The housekeeper sniffed. “It was my idea first. She’s the one who copied. But I don’t mind. It’s a compliment to know that my cooking is so in demand.”
    Danny couldn’t entirely suppress the smile that tugged at his lips. “I bet you’re making her pay you royalties on that recipe.”
    â€œHa. What you know?” Leilani gave him her best menacing glare before turning and heading back into the house.
    Sydney was staring at him. “Is she really mad at you?”
    He shook his head. “Nah. She sharpens her tongue on me all the time. It’s a good day when I can pay her back a little.”
    Sydney smiled at him as he stepped forward and held her chair. “She and her husband are sort of like family to you, aren’t they?”
    Family. The word actually hurt. He didn’t know what to say, so he said nothing as he took his seat. But when he glanced at her, Sydney looked stricken.
    â€œI’m so sorry,” she said. “That was thoughtless of me. Leilani told me about your son.”
    He nodded curtly. “Apology accepted.”
    There was a strained silence as they passed the food. Sydney shook out a huge snowy white napkin and placed it over the short pink shirt and skirt set Leilani had given her that morning. The outfit was one that a granddaughter had left behind and it bared her pale, slender midriff and nicely toned arms.
    Danny cleared his throat as she cut into her tuna. “If you’d like to tell me about your son, it’s all right.”
    As olive branches went, he thought that was quite a large limb. Apparently she agreed, because she looked across the table at him. “He’s just a typical little boy.” Then she frowned. “Except for his family structure.”
    â€œWhat do you mean?”
    â€œI’m not entirely sure,” she admitted, frustration coloring her tone. “I thought I’d remembered everything but this morning I realized I can’t recall anything about Nick’s father. Nothing! It’s like I found my baby under a toadstool or something.”
    â€œYou mean you don’t remember…” There was no way to put it delicately so he didn’t finish the sentence.
    A blush that matched her top flooded into her cheeks. “No. But it’s odd. I don’t feel as if I’ve ever been married, but I also don’t think I’m the kind of woman who’d conceive a child without being in a committed relationship.” She stumbled over her explanation a little, but plowed on. “I really don’t have an idea what kind of person I am! I could have a much more colorful history than I think I do.”
    They ate in silence for a few minutes while he digested all that she’d told him.
    â€œHave you asked anyone who knew you before?” he said at last. “About what you were like before this?” He didn’t think she seemed like a woman who’d sleep around, either. She had the genteel, restrained manner of one who’d been raised a lady. She wasn’t wearing a wedding ring and he’d bet she hadn’t worn one any time in the recent past, because her ring finger was smooth and unmarred by any paler skin or slight groove from a ring.
    â€œI talked to my mother briefly this morning,” she told him, “but I didn’t want to alarm her so I didn’t tell her exactly what had happened. Also, I didn’t