Laura's Secrets

by Shannon Greenland

  He laughed and gave her a quick hug.

  She slipped her rabbit's foot out of her front pocket. “Tell me about this."

  "Our father's an artist. He made those in his workshop when you turned two years old.” Ed took the foot from her fingers and held it up. “Ya know the engraved stick-figured boys and girls circling the top?"

  Sandra nodded.

  "They're holding hands. Dad made them for us because when you learned to walk you were holding my hand, and every time after that, you'd ask for me. You always wanted my hand, not Mom or Dad's."

  "Oh, Ed,” she sighed. They sat there, staring at each other, their lips curved into pleasant, peaceful smiles. “I have so many questions."

  He grinned. “I figured you would. We've got all night, lil’ sis."

  * * * *

  Early the next morning, Sandra flopped down into her tiny, two-man tent, exhausted, but more happy and content than she'd been in her entire life. She and Ed had stayed up the whole night talking. There'd always been a small void, a missing chunk, something she knew had to be sated before feeling complete and whole.

  She'd been right. She had a family now. A real family. Sandra smiled, for what felt like the millionth time since Ed had told her the news, and rolled over onto her side.

  She didn't have any mental illness running in her blood. She wasn't the daughter of a schizophrenic prostitute. She hadn't been born in an alley behind a dumpster. Her mother didn't try to abort her with a coat hanger. Her father hadn't been a whore's trick. She wasn't even related to Aunt Jane.

  Sandra closed her eyes on a groan. How could she have believed those ugly things?

  Flopping onto her back again, she threw her arm over her eyes and thought of Will. She'd been so mean to him. She'd said things she wished she wouldn't have. She'd acted out of hurt and anger and feeling lost. She'd yelled at him. She'd never yelled at anybody in her whole life. She'd made him cry. And all along he'd had the investigation going on. It must have killed him to keep it a secret, especially when she'd pushed him away.

  Why had she pushed him away? Weren't people supposed to rely on those they loved? Maybe that meant she didn't love him, which didn't feel right, but what else could it mean?

  Sandra inhaled a frustrated breath. If only she had somebody to talk to, somebody older and wiser. She'd never had that before, hadn't needed it until now.

  A snore filled the air. Ed. He'd pitched a tent right beside hers. She smiled. Her brother snored.

  Snuggling deeper into her sleeping bag, she recalled Ed's inquiry about her past. He'd wanted to know the details of her life with Aunt Jane. Sandra would never tell her family the whole story. They'd had enough pain and sorrow over the last twenty years. It was time for all of them to build a future together. And tomorrow she'd finally meet them.

  Twenty

  * * * *

  "Sandra, you okay, dear?"

  She looked up at her mom, approaching from across the yard, still not used to her new name. “Yes, Mom, I'm fine."

  Mom. Sandra had said that word every chance she could over the last five days.

  Mom squatted down on the other side of the garden. “Do you realize that's where you were the last time I saw you twenty years ago."

  Sandra turned and surveyed the dense woods behind her. Had that been Aunt Jane's, Mary Wood's, hiding place? “No, I didn't know that."

  "I made some hot chocolate. Feel like visiting with me on the porch?"

  Tucking her hands in her coat pockets, Sandra got to her feet. “Sure. Sounds good.” It sounded more than good. Her whole life she'd fantasized about sitting on a porch with her mom, talking, sipping hot chocolate. “Where's Dad?"

  "Gone to get some steaks for tonight."

  "Oh.” Just the sort of thing a normal, real dad would do.

  A few minutes later they settled on the back porch, each with a warm mug, side-by-side on the swing. Sandra gazed out over the yard, the garden, the woods, and the creek beyond. She visualized her and Ed playing as kids. Her parents had thought they were completely safe in this secluded location.

  No child was ever safe.

  Mom shifted and placed her hand on Sandra's thigh. “Ed called last night."

  Sandra slipped her arm under her mom's and lowered her head to her shoulder. A comfortable, easy affection had developed between them over the last five days. “What did he say?"

  "Oh, the usual. Tourist's latest city, a little bit of gossip, asked how you were doing. Wanted to know if we had any problems with reporters."

  Nothing about Will? “Did you tell him what I've decided?"

  "Yes. He thinks it's a great idea."

  She'd decided to sue the magazine that printed the original story. Not for money, but she did want them to admit their wrongdoing in not investigating the facts. She'd also put together a press release detailing the true story of the kidnapping and how her family had come to be reunited twenty years later. It was an amazing saga that deserved to be told and maybe give other families, who were going through the same thing, hope.

  Mom took a sip of hot chocolate. “Tell me about Will."

  Tears pressed the back of Sandra's eyes. She'd wanted to talk to her mother about him, but hadn't known how to bring it up. “I've made a muck of things,” she mumbled, lifting her head from her mom's shoulder.

  "Oh, now, I doubt that. It's never as bad as it seems."

  "I hurt him. I said things I wished I wouldn't have. I pushed him away when he reached out to me.” Sandra watched the steam from her hot chocolate lazily stream upward. “I made him cry,” she whispered achingly.

  Mom reached over and smoothed a lock of hair behind Sandra's ear. “Your dad and I have been married a lot of years. Do you know how many times we've hurt each other and regretted it? A lot. Saying things you wished you wouldn't have is human. You acted out of your emotions. Tell me, do you love Will?"

  "Yes,” Sandra answered without hesitation, more sure of her feelings than ever before. Everything about her life had clarity now. All the pieces of the puzzle had fallen into place.

  "Have you told him?"

  Sandra shook her head. “No."

  "Little words like ‘I'm sorry’ and ‘I love you’ go a long way, especially when they come straight from your heart."

  "You don't think it's too late?"

  Mom chuckled. “Oh, honey, where love's concerned it's never too late. I'll bet you that young man can't think of anything else."

  Sandra inhaled a contented breath. Her mom had spoken the exact words she'd needed to hear.

  "By the way, I met Will Burns a few years ago when your dad and I visited Ed on the road."

  Sandra's stomach did a slow roll. She looked at her mom expectantly, waiting to hear what she thought of him.

  "He's very funny and ... well, heck. He's extremely appealing."

  Sandra laughed and gave her mom a hug. “Thanks, Mom. I love you."

  "I love you, too, dear."

  * * * *

  Will stared moodily out his hotel window down at Nashville. Laura had worked here last year before coming to Tourist, at the same arena, in fact, that they'd perform in tomorrow tonight. It'd been thirteen days since he saw her last, five she'd been at the Grand Canyon and eight at her parents in Oregon. The only reason he knew she was at her parents was because Ed had told him. Laura certainly hadn't contacted him.

  Will had read her press release in the papers. It was excellent, done with an angle of awareness for missing children. She'd touched briefly on Mary Wood's past, but only to explain why the kidnapping occurred. Laura hadn't gone into the details of her own childhood, and he understood why. Those were private, personal details that she'd worked through. There was no reason to splash it all over the media.

  With a sigh, he dropped his forehead to the glass. He missed her so much. Every single day that ticked by, Will wanted to go to her. But every day he told himself to wait. She needed time to reunite with her family, work through all that had happened, gath
er her thoughts, formulate a plan for her future, and realize that she wanted him in it ... hopefully.

  He'd give her one more day, and then go for her. Who was he kidding? He'd wait until the end of time for Laura-his life, his love, his heart, his soul.

  A knock sounded at his door. “Go away, Eric, I'm fine.” His best friend had been checking on him regularly. Eric's good intentions were beginning to annoy him.

  A knock sounded again, this time a little more persistent.

  "I said I'm fine,” Will shouted.

  The knock came again.

  Will pushed away from the window with a growl and stomped across his suite. He reached for the knob and wrenched open the door. “What do you wa—"

  Laura stood in the threshold, looking more beautiful than he ever remembered, and he had a superb memory when it came to her. His aggravation slowly dissolved as he stared at her face curved into that delicious, sweet, shy smile he adored. He closed his mouth and swallowed.

  "I love you, Will Burns."

  He sucked in a gulp of air as his heart leapt into his throat. He reached out, grabbed her wrist, and pulled her into his arms. “Oh, Laura, I missed you so much."

  "I'm sorry."

  Will reached past her and shut the door. He kissed her cheek. “Don't apologize.” He kissed her forehead. “I understood.” He kissed her other cheek. “I knew you were upset.” He kissed the tip of her nose. “Don't ever leave me again.” He kissed her eyelids. “I was so miserable without you.” He pressed his cheek against hers. “I love you. Tell me you love me again."

  Laura took his face between her palms. She put her lips against his, held them there for long seconds, then pulled back and looked him in the eyes. “I love you with every fiber of my being. I give you my whole heart. Make love to me, Will."

  His heart melted at her soft-spoken request. He linked fingers with her and led her to the bed. Slowly they undressed each other, exploring every inch of skin, cherishing every curve, every corner, elbow, knee, finger, toe. When he finally entered her it felt like home, like everything clicked into place as their souls merged to one.

  Afterward, they lay in each other's arms, their eyes closed, listening to the other breathe. Will had no idea how much time went by. Minutes, hours.

  "I changed my name. I'm going by Sandra Barslow now. Do you mind?"

  He nuzzled the top of her head with his cheek. “I don't care if your name is Winky Dink. As long as you're in my arms, that's all that matters."

  She laughed softly and snuggled deeper into his chest. “I get my green eyes from my mom."

  Will's lips curved. “Yeah?” He ran his fingers through her hair. “What about your hair? Who do you get that from?"

  "Both. Dad and Mom both have blond hair."

  He opened his eyes and scooted down to look at her face. “Tell me more."

  Sandra rolled onto her back. “They live in Oregon in a woodsy, secluded area. There's a creek and a garden and they have two dogs. Mom's a music teacher. That's where I get my musical ability, and Dad's a retired fireman and an artist. He made the blue rabbit's foot."

  With his cheek propped in the palm of his hand, Will smiled down at her, falling in love with her all over again as she delightedly described her family.

  "They've lived in the same house for thirty years. Can you imagine that? My dad's name is Chris and mom is Helen. I have two grandmothers. We call them Mams and Nana. Both my grandfathers are gone, but I've heard all about them. Oh,” Sandra put her finger in the air, “my parents don't make any noise when they laugh. It's the strangest thing. Mom does this cute little giggle where she holds her breath and hunches her shoulders, but no sound comes out. And dad, he grins and slaps his thigh every time something's funny, but he doesn't make any noise either."

  Will trailed a leisurely finger down between her breasts. “Who do you get your amazing body from?"

  "My dad's side of the family gives me and Ed our height."

  "Oh.” He traced a line to her naval, twirled a few slow circles around her belly button.

  She reached up and toyed with a lock of his hair. “Mom wants us to come visit on our next break. Is that okay?"

  He turned his head and kissed the inside of her wrist. “That's more than okay."

  "Oh, and I had an idea."

  Will bit back a smile. She'd never been so bubbly chatty. “What?"

  "Our song, the one we did together. I thought it'd be a good idea if we donated the profit to helping families find their missing children."

  He cupped the side of her face with his palm, filled with pride and admiration for the woman he loved. “You're amazing. I think that's a fantastic idea."

  "Yeah?"

  "Yeah."

  Sandra rolled onto her side and snuggled their bodies together. “I guess I can tell you the news now."

  Will wrapped his arm around her back and pulled her closer. “What news?"

  "I talked to management a few days ago, and to make a long story short, I'm Tourist's sound engineer again. I'm mixing tomorrow's show."

  He gave her a quick squeeze. “You little sneak. Nobody even let on they knew. I could've been out of my misery days ago."

  She pushed him over onto his back and pouted her lower lip. “I'm sorry you were in so much misery. How will I ever make it up to you?"

  Will pretended to give the question a lot of thought. “Well you can start by kissing the hurt away."

  Sandra nuzzled her nose against his chest. “Where all does it hurt?"

  He pointed to his cheek, and she slid up his body and pressed her lips there.

  He pointed to his mouth, and she followed.

  He pointed to his neck, and she followed.

  He pointed to his chest, and she followed.

  He pointed to his stomach, and she followed.

  He pointed...

  Twenty-One

  * * * *

  Grammy night. Tourist had been nominated for album of the year, but as Will sat in his suite five minutes before leaving, only Sandra occupied his thoughts. He replayed their entire time together in his mind...

  Meeting her that day in Canada and wondering what lay beneath her haunted eyes. Watching her pounce in muddy puddles in a rainy Central Park. Holding her hand for the first time after one of her nightmares. Giving her a state patch for her duffel bag and feeling as if he'd given her a diamond ring instead. Pulling her secrets from her little by little. Losing to her in a game of pool. Falling asleep on the couch with her in his arms. Wrestling on the floor of his suite. Spending four gut-wrenching weeks away from her when she'd gone to his cabin. Kissing her for the first time. Hearing her screech for joy on the back of his Jeep. Putting her guitar music together with his lyrics. Spending the holiday at his sister's house. Meeting Aunt Jane. Linking the blue rabbit's foot with Ed. Making love to Sandra. Showering together. Losing her on Valentine's Day when all those lies hit the tabloids. Sending Ed after her and wondering if she'd ever return.

  Hearing her say, “I love you."

  Will flipped open the small box he held. Inside, her engagement ring twinkled back at him. He'd chosen twenty tiny emeralds and had the jeweler set them in a zigzagging pattern over a platinum band. It matched Sandra's eyes.

  Tonight would be their first public appearance together. Ever. Before Aunt Jane had returned, Will and Sandra rarely went out unless they'd worn a disguise. It'd been two months since the truth about Mary Wood hit the press. Since then, Will and Sandra hadn't ventured beyond their hotel or whatever venue Tourist performed in. There'd been plenty of stories and photos in the tabloids about their relationship, but tonight Will would cement the rumors. He was proposing. They'd appear hand-in-hand, no more hiding. He was going to show her off.

  Will clicked the box closed and slid it into his jacket pocket. Someone banged on his door. He blew out a breath, wiped his damp palms down his pants, then joined everyone in the hotel's corridor.

  "Well it's about time. What were you doing in there? Fixing y
our makeup?"

  Will ignored his blockheaded best friend and gave Eric's wife a quick peck on the cheek. “How do you put up with him?"

  "Love blinds,” she muttered through the side of her mouth.

  Eric slapped him on the back. “You clean up real nice."

  "Thanks. Black's easy and it matches.” Will turned to greet the other guys’ dates, all clinging proprietarily to their arms. He didn't recognize any of them. Flavors of the month.

  The drummer let out a slow whistle. “Check it out. I knew she was hiding the goods under those jeans and caps."

  Will watched as Sandra emerged from her doorway down the hall. Now he knew why she'd insisted on getting ready in her own room. They wouldn't have made it to the Grammy's if he'd seen her in that dress.

  His fantasy of her long legs in high heels had come true. She wore a floor length, silver gown with a slit running all the way to her upper thigh. Tiny straps held it onto her shoulders and gave the appearance it'd been casually draped over her breasts. She'd left her hair down, just like he liked it.

  She walked toward the group, and even though she held her head high and shoulders back, Will knew his Sandra. All eyes focused silently on her made her uncomfortable. But how could they not stare? She looked incredible.

  He managed to tear his gaze away from her exposed thigh and looked her in the eyes. She gave him a small smile and made him feel like the luckiest man in the whole world.

  "Well, I don't know about you all, but I think we've got the sexiest sound mixer in the whole industry,” the band's manager said. The other guys showed their agreement with good-natured catcalls and whistling.

  Sandra blushed, and Will's heart melted. He went to her. “You look amazing,” he whispered against her ear, then inhaled her scent. “Your perfume is intoxicating. I've never seen you in a dress before."

  "Thanks,” she whispered back. “I haven't worn one since high school."

  Will slipped his hand under her hair and trailed his fingers between her shoulder blades down to her lower back, discovering it bare. “I hope this thing doesn't come off of you."