*****162:

At a small port they disembarked, three leashes in place, three adorable tots wearing native dress, and a tanned and glowing momma, in a white and blue turtle batik lava lava, with a blue off the shoulder loose fitting top, hair down, four shell necklaces, huge earrings, and several arm bracelets. They walked along the boardwalk, smelled the smells, stopped to look at birds along the quay, and meandered along.

She'd been thinking a lot. Thinking about Richard.

He, who could find her in less than fifteen minutes anywhere in the world.

He, whose 'in tune' meant he could practically read her mind.

He, whose music swelled within her as no one else's ever had.

He, who, knowing what meant the most in this life, was doing what it took to prepare himself, and to learn how to be an eternal family.

He wanted her.

And his wanting made everything else in her life insignificant.

She thought about that kind of insignificant. Film was insignificant, stage was insignificant, houses, clothes, toys, movies, ABC So Cal, and Utah were insignificant....

Maybe a wonderful way to help people and that was a plus, something in her favor, but really, in the long run, insignificant.

She eyed the three little munchkins scooting along ahead of her spying out the details at three feet and under. They were significant. They were the only things of importance. Family was important. People were important.

She knew this.

But sometimes she forgot it.

Austin was important. He was hurting.

He had taken advantage, but so had Blaze... she needed to be on better guard.

She needed to know for herself what she wanted, and then stick to it. Her life needed to be based on real conviction, not on circumstances. Richard made her feel good, it was true. He was her friend, he cared about her. But Jules cared about her, Austin used to care about her...

Maybe she needed to get a few female friends. She tended to get in trouble with male friends.

"Tracy? Are you Tracy McCaffrey?" Came an excited woman's voice off to the right. Tracy reigned in three toddlers and lifted Megan into her arms instinctively as she swirled to find the source and ascertain its veracity.

A small black woman, a tall white man approached her. They were smiling. The small woman held her companion's hand and hurried to catch up to Tracy and the children on the boardwalk. She glanced toward the safety of the boat quite a distance off shore, and the skiff they'd taken to the island, several hundred yards away. There weren't many people around, but still, that was no protection. She now sported a cell phone, but who would she call for help?

"Hi! I'm Geena Macintyre, do you remember me from Michelle's party last year? I covered the whole Grammies, the party afterward, do you remember?" Her voice was so excited, and so animated. Tracy thought about playing it off, but it was obvious she'd been recognized.

She didn't know the woman, or her over six-foot boyfriend, but she smiled softly. "Hi, Geena, yeah, I do remember you." That was a lie, outright lie. She not only didn't remember her, but only knew a few paparazzi by name, Mark Shepherd being one of the only reporters she completely trusted, and even he was not the safest bet. He'd printed some pretty skanky revealing pictures once.

Geena was to her, dropping her male friend's hand without an introduction, and Tracy saw that they both carried cameras. She had stopped walking, pulling Danny and Melia close. Geena eyed the children carefully, and Tracy could see them both reaching for the shutter buttons. She decided to eye the camera first and address it, hopefully, she could persuade the couple not to take pictures of them. "How are you enjoying the cruise, Geena?"

"Loving it, how about you?" She brought the camera up to her eye and was snapping away before Tracy could turn the children around.

"Well, it was pretty relaxing until now, you know, I'd rather not be photographed this trip." She tried to smile, to bluff her way through, but it was just as obvious that both people were aggressive and not open to negotiation.

Geena tossed her hair out of her eyes. "Yeah, feeling the heat?" She grinned. "Look over here little girls. Look at me!"

Tracy bit her lip and turned back the way they had come, walking quickly around the snapping couple, having to push past when the man wouldn't move and let them by easily.

"It is kind of amazing meeting you here, Tracy. You and the kids on vacation?"

Tracy didn't even wave, she slung her hair out of Megan's way, pulled tightly on the leash when Melia would have gone a different direction and cursed her luck. Imagine running into paparazzi now, after a week without recognition. She didn't answer.

It was slow going now that she wanted to hurry. Ahead she saw the skiff and the porter from earlier standing at attention, waiting for the shoppers and tourists to return. She hefted Megan higher and loosened the leash a bit, so that Melia's arm wasn't being wrenched out of the socket.

They were following her, snapping away, moving around to run and be in front of her, blocking her way.

"It was nice seeing you Geena. My... lawyer will be in touch...."

"What for?" Geena threw out, stopping right in front of Tracy as she tried to walk the dock where the skiff was tied up.

"I told you, I'd rather not be photographed this trip."

Geena and her friend were still snapping away. "Your life is open to the public, McCaffrey, I can take whatever pictures I want, and you can't do anything about it."

Tracy squinted as she pushed her sunglasses back off her face. "Get out of my way, or I will call for security, press charges of harassment and get you thrown off this cruise."

Geena laughed. "You think that will stop us? We know our rights." She kept standing in Tracy's way and Tracy, feeling defenseless walked a few steps toward her, trying to push her way through. Geena's camera was right in her face.

Right in her face when somebody grabbed it from behind. A nice looking young man, dark hair, white flowing slacks, brown belt and sandals, an open blouse, over a very tanned expanse of chest. His sunglasses hid dark eyes, and Tracy felt a moment's unprecedented relief that she recognized and realized she'd once again been rescued, when she needed help getting away from the paparazzi.

Now the porter was blocking the way to the dock, had nudged the over six-foot white guy aside rather forcefully, and had planted himself at an angle so that the white flowing gentleman and himself made an easy avenue for Tracy and the children to get aboard without any more difficulty.

"According to our policies, Miss..." The porter stated casually as Tracy passed him. "You can't harass anyone of our guests, you are not allowed to photograph our guests, and I'll have to ask for your digital card. I'm within my rights, according to our ship's policies. Miss Maverick is within her rights to request that you leave the ship at the next available port with an airport for you to terminate your voyage with us.

"Give me my camera back!" Geena snapped, facing the dark-haired, white flowing man as he popped the side button and released her card and gingerly threw it into the sea. He handed her camera back and tipped his glasses at her companion.

"I have other stuff on my camera, don't take my card." He pleaded and the man nodded as he retrieved the camera and pressed delete buttons on all the recent pictures as if he were a pro at it, and familiar with all digital cameras. Tracy watched now from the safety of the bow on the skiff, which had also been gated off so only she and her children were admitted.

Then she watched as the man in the flowing white loose fitting and very sexy looking clothes boarded the skiff and let himself onto the bow with her, in fact came over to her, reached for her cute straw hat and lowered his sunglasses so she could see his chocolate colored eyes, smart goatee and 'stache, and read the mockery there.

He embraced her with one arm, pulled her very close to him, squishing the child between them and whispered in her ear rather than kissing her, "Gotcha out of trouble again, Trace?" To anyone else it would have looked like he was kissing her, and she wondered who else had cameras. Angry that she had put them in a position to be rescued once again, angry that she'd been found so quickly, it had only been one day, had Richard simply called the one person he knew would go to her immediately? Thank God it wasn't Austin, was all she could think.

"Nice to see you too, Blaze." She replied as Megan pushed against Blaze's bare chest and gave him a warning look that was correctly interpreted to mean "stay away from my mommy!"

He turned them all to the narrow railing and the cushioned seats around the bow and pulled Danny around to face him. "Remember me, young man?"

"I remember you, Blaze Phelps." Danny said, his eyes betraying his disconcerted feelings at being caught once again by camera bearing people.

Blaze leaned back, an arm still up and around Tracy who had moved moodily away from him, and set Megan down. Finally, as the skiff moved away from the dock, minus its two token paparazzi passengers Tracy faced him. "Why are you here?"

"You looked like you could use a little help."

"Did you fly straight here?"

"I got a call, yeah, I flew straight here. Thought I'd finish the trip with you, however long that takes." His voice was low against the stiff breeze.

He had raised both arms to lie along the railing expansively.

"This isn't your style." She countered in disappointment, mostly at herself, but also at him as there was no other target available. "Who called you?"

"Michael."

She nodded and looked away then reached into her belt bag for her cell and dialed Michael's number. He answered almost immediately. "Hi." She said, a catch in her throat, and the wind making it hard to hear. Blaze had leaned forward and was doing coin tricks for the girls.

*****