Summer Secrets -- Out now from Signet Books There are secrets meant to be shared and those that must be kept forever ... Bestselling author Barbara Freethy presents her most powerful contemporary novel -- the story of three unique sisters ... the secrets that bind them for life ... and the summer that will set them free. Eight years ago, the three McKenna sisters -- Kate, Ashley, and Caroline -- had their fifteen minutes of fame. Driven by their ambitious father, they won an around-the-world sailing race as teenagers. But something happened out on the turbulent sea -- during a fierce storm they could never forget ... Now Tyler Jamison has come to Castleton, a picturesque island off the coast of Washington State, asking questions about the famous McKennas. But even as the sisters close ranks against the tenacious reporter, the past threatens to drown them in its wake. It will take Caroline's willingness to right a wrong, Ashley's struggle to face her greatest fears, and Kate's attempt to embrace life -- and love -- again to finally calm the winds and stop the rain... Read Reviews | Read Excerpt

The Latest Reviews...

"Freethy skillfully keeps the reader on the hook, and her tantalizing and believable tale has it all-- romance, adventure, and mystery." Booklist

"Freethy's zesty storytelling will keep readers hooked, and the sisters' loving but prickly interactions will make anyone with a sibling smile." Publisher's Weekly

"Freethy is at the top of her form. Fans of Nora Roberts will find a similar tone here, framed in Freethy's own spare, elegant style." Contra Costa Times

"SUMMER SECRETS is a knock-your-socks-off tale of deception, family, and love. Master storyteller Barbara Freethy draws readers into the characters' lives on the first page and keeps them engrossed and enthralled to the end. This riveting tale of love and forgiveness, of letting go and beginning anew will resonate in readers' hearts long after the last page is turned." Romance Reviews Today

"SUMMER SECRETS is a marvelous story about relationships, especially the strong bond between three sisters and their father who has fallen from grace." ReaderToReader.com

"In the tradition of Lavyrle Spencer, gifted author Barbara Freethy creates an irresistible tale of family secrets, riveting adventure and heart-touching romance." Susan Wiggs

"Barbara Freethy writes with bright assurance, exploring the bonds of sisterhood and the excitement of blue water sailing. SUMMER SECRETS is a lovely novel." Luanne Rice

Prologue

Ship's Log - Moon Dancer - July 10th

Kate McKenna's fingers tightened around the pen in her hand as the Moon Dancer surfed up one wave and down the next. The Ship's Log told nothing of their real journey, revealed none of the hardships, the secrets, the heartbreak, the danger they now faced. She wanted to write it down, but she couldn't. Her father's instructions were explicit, nothing but the facts.

She couldn't say that she was worried, but she was. The weather was turning, the barometer dropping. A big storm was coming. If they changed course, they would lose valuable time, and her father would not consider that option. They were currently in second place and heading straight into the fury of the sea. She could hear the winds beginning to howl. She feared there would be hell to pay this night. Nerves were already on edge. Arguments could be heard in every corner of the boat. She wanted to make it all go away. She wanted to take her sisters and go home, but home was at the other end of the ocean.

"Kate, get up here," someone yelled.

She ran up on deck, shocked to the core by the intensity of the storm. The spray blew so hard it almost took the skin off her face. She knew she had to move, had to help her father reef down the sails, but all she could do was stare at the oncoming wave. It must be forty feet high and growing. Any second it would crash over their boat. How on earth would they survive?

And if they didn't -- would anyone ever know the true story of their race around the world? .

Chapter One

Eight Years Later ...

"The wind blew and the waves crashed as the mighty dragon sank into the sea to hide in the dark depths of the ocean until the next sailor came too close to the baby dragons. The end."

Kate McKenna smiled at the enraptured looks on the faces before her. Ranging in age from three to ten, the children sat on thick, plump cushions on the floor in a corner of the bookstore Kate called Fantasia. They came three times a week to hear her read stories or tell tales. At first they were chatty and restless, but once the story took hold, they were hers completely. Although it wasn't the most profitable part of her bookstore business, it was by far the most enjoyable.

"Tell us another one," the little girl sitting next to her pleaded.

"One more," the other children chorused.

Kate was tempted to give in, but the clock on the wall read five minutes to six, and she was eager to close on time this Friday night. It had been a long, busy week, and she had inventory to unpack before the weekend tourist crowds descended. "That's all for today," she said, getting to her feet. Although the children protested, the group gradually drifted from the store, a few mothers making purchases on their way out the door.

"Great story," Theresa Delantoni said. "Did you make that up as you went along or did you read it somewhere?"

"A little of both," Kate told her assistant. "My dad used to tell us stories about dragons that lived under the sea. One time we were sailing in the Caribbean, and the sea suddenly seemed to catch fire. Dragons, I thought, just like my father said. It turned out to be phosphorus algae. But my sisters and I preferred the fire-breathing dragon story."

"A romantic at heart."

"It's a weakness, I admit."

"Speaking of romance," Theresa's cheeks dimpled into an excited smile. "It's my anniversary, and I have to go. I promised I wouldn't be late, because our babysitter can only give us two hours." Theresa took her purse out of the drawer behind the counter. "I hate to leave you with all those boxes to unpack."

Kate followed her to the door. "Don't think twice. You deserve a night off with that darling husband of yours."

Theresa blushed. "Thanks. After eight years of marriage and two babies who need a lot of attention, sometimes I forget how lucky I am."

"You are lucky."

"And you are great with kids. You should think about having some of your own."

"It's easy to be great for an hour."

"Brrr," Theresa said as they walked out of the store together. She stopped to zip up her sweater. "The wind is picking up."

"Out of the southwest," Kate said automatically, her experienced nautical eye already gauging the knots between twelve and fifteen. "There's a storm coming. It should be here by six o'clock. Take an umbrella with you."

"You're better than a weather man," Theresa said with a laugh. "Don't stay too late now. People will start to suspect you don't have a life."

Her bookstore at the northern end of Pacific Avenue had an incredible view of the deep blue waters of Puget Sound, and was just one of the interesting, quaint shops that ran down a two mile cobblestone strip to Rose Harbor, a busy marina that filled every July with boats in town for the annual Castleton Sailboat Races.

Castleton was known for its rugged beauty, fir and evergreen covered hillsides and over one hundred miles of driftwood strewn beaches. Most of the island traffic came via the Washington State Ferry, although boaters were plentiful, and small private planes could land at the Castleton Airport. The unpredictable southwesterly winds created swirling, dangerous currents along many of the beaches, and had driven a few boats to ground on their way to shelter in the harbor. But the winds didn't stop the boats from coming or the sailors from congregating. Tales of sails and storms could be overheard in every restaurant, café and business in town. There were more boat slips in the marina than there were parking spaces downtown. Their lives weren't just by the sea, they were about the sea.

Kate loved her view of the waterfront, loved the one from her house in the hills even better, but more than anything she appreciated the fact that the view didn't change every day. Maybe some would call that boring, but she found it comforting.

The wind lifted the hair off the back of her neck, changing that feeling of comfort to one of uneasiness. Wind in her life had meant change. Her father, Duncan McKenna, a sailing man from the top of his head to the tips of his toes, always relished the wind's arrival. Kate could remember many a time when he had jumped to his feet at the first hint of a breeze. The smile would spread across his weatherbeaten cheeks as he'd stand on the deck of their boat, pumping his fist triumphantly in the air, his eyes focused on the distant horizon. The wind's up, Katie, girl, he'd say. It's time to go.

And they'd go wherever the wind took them. They'd sail with it, into it, against it. They'd lash out in anger when it blew too hard, then cry in frustration when it vanished completely. Her life had been formed, shaped and controlled by the wind. She'd thought of it as a friend; she'd thought of it as a monster. Well, no more.

She had a home now, an address, a mailbox, a garden. She might live by the water, but she didn't live on it. The wind meant nothing more to her than an extra sweater and a bowl of soup for dinner. It didn't mean that her life was about to change. Why couldn't she believe that?

Because of the boats.

They'd been sailing into the harbor for the past week, every day a few more, each one bigger, brighter and better than the last. There was an energy in the air, a sense of excitement, purpose, adventure. In a little over a week, those boats would race each other around the island in the annual Castleton Invitational Sailboat Races. Two days later, the boats would be off again, racing to San Francisco then on to Hawaii for the Pacific Cup. The sailors would battle the elements and each other. In the end only one would be victorious.

Kate didn't appreciate the direction of her thoughts. She didn't want to think about the boats or the damn race. Ten days -- it would all be over in ten days, she reminded herself as she walked back into the store and shut the door firmly behind her. She could handle the pleasure cruisers, the fishermen, the tourists interested in whale watching; what she couldn't handle were the racers, the fanatical sailors who lived to battle the ocean, to conquer new seas. She knew those men and women too well. Once, she'd been one of them.

The door to her store opened, accompanied by a melodious jangle from the wind chimes that hung outside. A man entered, dressed in khaki pants and a navy blue polo shirt. He had the look of a man on business. There was an energy in his movements, a gleam in his deep blue eyes, and an impression of power and purpose in his stance. As he ran an impatient hand through his dark brown hair, Kate felt her pulse jump. Strangers came into her store all the time asking for books, directions, information about the island, but she had to admit none of those strangers had given her heart such a jump start. Maybe Theresa was right. She definitely needed to get out more.

"Hello." His voice had a bit of a drawl to it. The south? Texas? She wasn't sure where he'd come from, but she had a feeling it had been a long journey.

"Hello," she said. "Can I help you?"

"I certainly hope so."

"I'm betting you need directions, not a book."

He gave her a curious smile. "Now why would you bet that?"

"You don't look like an armchair adventurer."

"You can tell that just by looking?"

She shrugged. "What can I say -- I'm good."

"Not that good. I don't need directions."

"Oh. A book about sailing then?"

"Wrong again."

Kate studied him thoughtfully. He hadn't stood still since he walked in the store, shifting his feet, tapping his fingers on the counter. He looked like a man who couldn't stop running even when he was tired. Hardly one to settle into a recliner with a good book. However, she couldn't refute the fact that he had come into the bookstore of his own free will, so he must have had a reason. "I know." She snapped her fingers. "Gift book. You need a book for Aunt Sally or Cousin Mary or maybe the girlfriend whose birthday you forgot."

He laughed. "No Aunt Sally. No Cousin Mary. And regretfully, no girlfriend."

Kate had to bite back the incredulous really that threatened to push past her lips. She settled for, "Interesting. So what do you want?"

"I'm looking for someone."

"Aren't we all?"

"You're very quick."

He was quick, too, and it had been awhile since she'd flirted with a man. Not that she was flirting, just being friendly. "So, who are you looking for?"

He hesitated, and it was the small pause that made Kate tense. That and the way his gaze settled on her face. It had been eight years since someone had coming looking for her. Not that it was likely this man was here for that reason. What were the odds? A million to one.

"A woman," he said slowly.

Kate licked her lips, trying not to turn away from the long, deep look he was giving her.

"I think I've found her," he added.

So much for odds.

"It's you, isn't it? Kate McKenna." He smiled with satisfaction. "The oldest of the fearsome foursome that raced around the world in a sailboat. I recognize you from the photographs."

"Who wants to know?"

"Tyler Jamison." He stuck out his hand.

Kate gave his hand a brief shake. "What do you want?"

"A story."

"You're a reporter?" She had to admit she was surprised. She'd once been able to spot a reporter from a block away. She'd gotten complacent. That would have to change right now. "I can't imagine why you'd be looking for me. That race was a long time ago."

"Eight years. That would make you twenty-eight, right?"

Kate walked over to the door and turned the sign to closed. If only she'd done it five minutes earlier; she would have missed this man. Not that he wouldn't have come back in the morning. He had a look of stubborn persistence about him. A man who usually got what he wanted she suspected.

"I'd like to do a follow-up story on what's become of one of the most interesting sailing crews in ocean racing history," Tyler continued. "It would tie in nicely with the upcoming sailboat races."

"I don't race any more, but I'm sure I can find you some interesting racers to talk to. Take Morgan Hunt for instance. He raced in the Sydney to Hobart last year and could tell you tales that would curl your toes."

"I'll keep that in mind. But I'd like to start with you and your sisters, your father, too."

Her father, Duncan McKenna, would love the publicity, adore being in the spotlight, but Lord only knew what he'd say once his tongue got going, especially if his tongue had been loosened by a few pints of beer, which would no doubt be the case.

"My father loves to talk about the past," Kate said, "but just like those fishermen whose stories of catches grow bigger by the year, so do my father's stories about that race. You can't believe a thing he says."

"What about you? You'd tell me the real story, wouldn't you?"

"Sure." She gave him what she hoped was a casual shrug. "Let's see. We sailed forever it seemed. Some days were windy, some were hot. The wind ran fast, then slow. One week turned into the next with more of the same. The food was terrible. The seas were treacherous. The stars were always fantastic. That's about it."

"Short and succinct. Surely you can do better than that, Miss McKenna. A woman who appreciates books should be able to tell a better story."

"I sell books, I don't write them. But there were a dozen news stories about the race in the weeks that followed our return. Everything that needed to be said was said. If you're interested, I'm sure you could find them on the Internet or in the library." She paused. "Do you write for a sailing magazine?"

"I'm a freelancer. I go where the story takes me."

Kate frowned. This was great. Just great. Another man who went with the wind. Why did they always stir up trouble in her life? "Well, there's no story here. We're all very boring. I run this bookstore, not exactly a hotbed of commerce as you can see." She swept her hand around the room, forcing him to look at the cozy chairs by the window, the neatly stacked shelves of mysteries, fiction, fantasy, romance, children's books, and, of course, the ever popular books on seafaring.

Although she was trying to downplay the bookstore, she couldn't stop the sense of pride that ran through her as she looked around the room that she had decorated, the care she'd taken with the children's corner brightened by posters and stuffed animals. She'd turned the bookstore into a home away from home, a place of delicious escape. It hadn't been easy to build a business from nothing. But somehow she'd done it.

"It's nice," Tyler said. "From sailboat racer to bookstore owner. Sounds like an interesting journey. Tell me more."

She'd walked right into that one. "It's not interesting at all. Trust me."

"You're avoiding my questions. Why?"

"I'm not avoiding anything," she said with a laugh that even to her own ears sounded nervous. "It's like this -- I was an awkward teenager during that trip. I'm grown up now. I don't particularly want to rehash that time in my life. It was no big deal."

"It was a huge deal. Most people who win ocean races are seasoned sailors, sponsored by big corporations, sailing million dollar boats. But the McKenna family beat them all. I can't understand why you don't want to talk about it. It must have been the biggest and best thing that ever happened to you."

"We had fifteen minutes of fame a long time ago. And our race was different. It wasn't filled with racing syndicates but with amateur sailors who had a passion for sailing and a longing for adventure. The racing world has changed. No one cares what happened to us."

"I do."

"Why?" Something about him didn't ring true. He seemed too confident, too purposeful to be after a fluff story. "Why do you care?"

"I like to write about adventurers, ordinary people who accomplish extraordinary things. And I'm fascinated by the thought of three girls and their father alone on the ocean, battling not only the other racers, but the wind, the icebergs, fifty foot waves. I've read some accounts of the trip, especially the harrowing details of the terrible storm during the second to last leg of the race. I can't imagine what you must have gone through."

There was a passion in his voice that spoke of a genuine interest, but why now? Why after all these years? Why this man -- who had appeared out of nowhere and didn't seem to work for anyone? Why him?

"You look familiar," she said, studying the sharply drawn lines of his face. "Where have I seen you before?"

"I just have one of those faces. An average every day Joe." He paused. "So what do you say? Will you talk to me? Or do I need to track down your sisters -- Ashley and Caroline?"

Kate couldn't let him talk to Ashley or Caroline. She couldn't let this go any further. She had to get rid of him, but how?

"You're stalling," Tyler said. "I can see the wheels turning in your head."

"Don't be silly. I'm just busy. I have boxes to unpack before tomorrow, so I'm afraid we'll have to do this some other time." The phone behind the counter rang, and she reached for it immediately, grateful for the interruption. "Fantasia," she said cheerfully. Her heart sank as she heard a familiar voice on the other end of the line. Will Jenkins ran The Oyster Bar on the waterfront, her father's favorite hangout. "How bad is he?" The answer put her heart into another nosedive. "I'll be right there. Yes, I know. Thanks, Will."

"Trouble?" Tyler inquired, as she hung up the phone.

"No." She opened the drawer and pulled out her purse and keys. "I have to go. And so do you."

"You look upset."

"I'm fine." She opened the door, the breeze once again sending goose bumps down her arms. There was change in the air. She could feel it all around her.

"You don't look fine. Is someone hurt?" Tyler persisted, as she locked the door behind him. "Can I help?"

Kate told herself not to be taken in by the concern in his eyes. He was a reporter. He just wanted a story. "No one can help. You should go home. Back to wherever you came from."

"Thanks, but I think I'll stay a while. With all these sailors in town, I'm sure someone around here will talk to me."

"Suit yourself."

Kate hurried to her car, which she kept parked in back of her store. Tyler Jamison was a problem she hadn't anticipated, but right now she had a more pressing matter to deal with. She turned on the ignition and let out the brake. Her small Volkswagen bug shook with another gust of wind. Her father always said if you can't own the wind, you have to ride it out. She had a feeling this was going to be one wild ride.