Father By Choice. M.J. Rodgers

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СКАЧАТЬ Founders Day Celebration was the biggest event of the year—if not the decade—and had been hogging the local headlines for days. Everyone wanted to attend, and from what Brad had heard, if you didn’t have some pretty high-up connections, you couldn’t get in.

      “You playing bodyguard to some dignitary?” he asked.

      “No, strictly there as Emily’s brother. She’s been putting it together for the past few months so she’s my in.”

      Brad was sure he couldn’t have heard right. “Your sister is in charge of the Founders Day Celebration?”

      “I take it she didn’t tell you.”

      “She told me she was a gardener.”

      Ed chuckled. “A psychic and a gardener. Boy, did she have fun with you today. Emily’s the curator of the city’s Botanical Gardens and a member of the Historical Society. She also has a Ph.D. in botany and she’s written a couple of books on medicinal plants.”

      “Jeez,” Brad said as his head went back in his hands.

      “Yeah, I know. A damn overachiever. Sure put the pressure on me and my brother while we were growing up. Our parents were always so button-popping proud of her. Still are. I planned to push her off a cliff when I got big enough.”

      “Can’t imagine what stopped you.”

      “It was this annoying habit she had of always making me feel like I was the talented one. No matter what sport I played, she was in the stands cheering for me and threatening the other team’s members with the loss of various body parts if they so much as harmed a hair on my head.”

      The scene materialized so clearly in Brad’s mind that it made him wish he’d had such a sister.

      “My pass to the ceremonies tomorrow is for two,” Ed said. “You can be my date if you promise not to wear anything too low-cut.”

      “I’ll see what I have in my wardrobe,” Brad said dryly. “If you were me, how would you approach her on this?”

      “Beats me.”

      “Come on. You’ve known her all your life. You must have a feel for what would work?”

      “It’s precisely because I have known her all my life that I can assure you nothing will work. Emily’s made up her mind to have this kid alone and raise it by herself. And that’s what she’ll do.”

      Brad looked out at the night, hoping for inspiration. But his mind was as hazy and blank as the starless sky.

      Ed grabbed hold of his arm and pulled him to his feet. “Come on. We’re going back to the bar and tie one on.”

      “You think getting drunk is going to help?”

      “I sure hope so. Tomorrow, I have tickets to the hottest event of the year and look who I’m taking.”

      THE TEMPERATURE WAS IN the seventies, the air a fragrant kiss across Emily’s cheek. In the distance, the Pacific Ocean whispered against white sands. To the north, south and east, the steep mountains circled into a soft blue sky. The gardens all around her were ablaze with sunlight and the beauty of growing things.

      “You even arranged for us to have perfect weather,” Dorothy said near her ear. “I am impressed.”

      Emily sent her friend a smile.

      The Botanical Gardens were filled with the by-invitation-only spectators. Chief of police Max Zirinsky was among them and so were a lot of his plainclothes officers, unobtrusively milling about and keeping a watchful eye.

      On a slightly raised platform sat the city council along with Phoebe Landru and Oliver Smithson, Dorothy’s fellow members of the managing board of the Historical Society. The local KSEA TV news crew had set up cameras. Ken Kerr, the society’s photographer, was busy taking pictures with his thirty-five millimeter.

      “All we need now is the mayor,” Dorothy said glancing at her watch.

      As though hearing his cue, the newly elected mayor, Patrick O’Shea, turned the corner. The TV crew immediately aimed their cameras at him and started to roll. Emily went over to greet him.

      The mayor shook her hand warmly, wearing a genuine smile. In Emily’s experience, there were two types of people who went into politics—egoists and idealists. The preponderance of officeholders fit into the first category. Patrick O’Shea, thankfully, fit into the second.

      He’d been fire chief before running for mayor, not the kind of job that most candidates for public office held. But maybe the kind that they should. O’Shea knew how to put the welfare of the people of Courage Bay first.

      Emily accompanied him to the platform and showed him to his seat. Dorothy had taken her place next to the other members of the Historical Society. The clock in the Botanical Gardens’ Heritage Museum was striking the hour. Everything was in place and on time.

      As Emily turned to the crowd before her, she felt proud to be a part of this historical moment for Courage Bay. Raising her hands for quiet, she caught sight of her brother at the right of the large crowd and smiled. When she saw who was standing beside him, the smile froze on her lips.

      Oh, no. What in the hell was he doing here?

      Emily forced herself to turn her eyes and thoughts away. She was going to let nothing and no one interfere with this momentous occasion. “Ladies and gentlemen, it is my great pleasure to welcome you to our Founders Day Celebration. And it is my deep honor to present to you the mayor of Courage Bay, Patrick O’Shea.”

      Emily took her seat beside Dorothy as Mayor O’Shea approached the podium accompanied by enthusiastic applause. When it had died down, he turned to Emily and publicly thanked her for all her hard work in making the celebration a success.

      Dorothy rose and began to clap. The crowd quickly joined her as the mayor, city council and other members of the Historical Society’s managing board also got to their feet and applauded. All this focused and very unexpected attention made Emily glad she wasn’t a blusher.

      Once the audience had sat down again, the mayor faced forward.

      “I want to tell you a story my father told me when I was no more than five,” he began. “It’s a story I’ve passed down to my children. It’s one I hope you will pass down to yours.”

      The crowd listened with hushed attention.

      “In January of 1848, an American ship called Ranger was caught in a terrible storm at sea and blown off course to these Southern California shores,” O’Shea said. “When the ship was struck by lightning and began to sink, its exhausted crew would certainly have drowned if not for the brave Indians of this land who risked their lives fighting the raging current to bring them safely to shore. In honor of the selfless act of their rescuers, the survivors of Ranger named this settlement Courage Bay.”

      Emily knew this story well. Still, she never tired of hearing it told. These events were a proud heritage that she and all the residents of Courage Bay shared. She found herself caught up in the favorite tale.

      “When the Indian chief invited the shipwrecked crew to stay, they readily agreed,” СКАЧАТЬ